Chapter 48

A few weeks had passed, and we were recovering from the McBride-Hodges wedding when the phone rang. I was surprised to find that it was Jonathan Wilkerson calling. Although we had spoken on the phone a number of times, with the single exception of Little Bit and company, we had been the ones initiating the calls. But not that time.

“Cam,” he began, “I have a favor to ask.” He wasted no time with small talk, but rather moved immediately to the reason for his call.

A favor for Jon Wilkerson? The only “favor” we had ever done for him was to accept our four utterly darling sisters. Some favor!

“Of course!” I replied. “What is it?”

Very diffidently — and very much out of character for him — he asked, “Could ... could you, Kristin, and your mother come down here to the Yucatan? It’s quite important.”

I thought for just a moment. “I’m sure we can, but in return, could you do a favor for us?”

“Of course!” he replied, echoing my reply to him. “What is it?”

“My mother has been utterly fascinated by your system for matching people. Recognizing the risk, she still would like to come down with my father and be run through your system. Could you do that?”

There was silence on the line for a moment. Then he replied, “Of course we can, but are you sure she — and your father — understand the risks?”

“Yes, they do. And for that matter, I think Kris and I would like to do it again, too.”

“What for?”

I chuckled. “I could give you a line, but the truth is that Kris is certain that if we did it again, it would blow out your hardware.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Jon, I’m sure you remember that when we did it the first time, the computer produced 99 percent matches. Well, you also know that Tina Miller Harrington is now a sister of mine. And you also know that she knows a fair amount about computers. Although she doesn’t know all the ins and outs of your software, she’s pretty sure that identical matches would blow your unit. So anyway...”

“I’ll take the chance,” he laughed.

“One more thing,” I added. “Could we bring down a pair of tigers with us? I’m sure they would like the weather down there better than what we have up here.”

“Did you say... tigers?”

You may remember some of the meals Mom and Kris served to our four resident tigers. And the reason was to try to ensure that when we got a pair of our own, they would be good ones. Well, we did, and they were the very best young tigers in the pack. They had been mated by the pack just before coming out from Los Angeles, and they were Tom Jefferson and his mate, Martha.

The funniest thing was when Martha met my mother for the first time. Not only was she in awe of Mom’s beauty, but she was astonished at the number of her “children” and the fact that she had a grandson older than her youngest daughter. With her eyes as big as giant green saucers, she asked Mom, “Mistress, I have been mated for only a few days, while you must be the most experienced mate in the world! Could ... would ... you be willing to give me pointers on being a better mate for my beloved Tom?”

And I’ll really give Mom credit. She didn’t laugh, realizing that the poor thing would have been crushed had she done so. (Thinking about it, the idea of a 550-pound tigress being crushed by my mother really is funny.) Instead, she replied, “Martha Jefferson, I would be delighted to help you in any way I can!” Then she hugged the tigress around her neck and kissed her. It was truly love at first sight in both directions.

Anyway, after explaining to Jon about the tigers, he agreed enthusiastically.

“There’s one more thing...” he began, but then stopped.

“One more thing... ?”

He blurted, “Do you happen to know a physician who would like to join our staff?”

“What happened to Doctor ... Henson, wasn’t it?”

“He’s leaving to go home to Indianapolis.” There was another pause, and then he asked, “Is that magic pregnancy power that The Carriers have transferrable ... over the phone?”

That question really took me aback. Then I looked up and found that Kris had locked in on my conversation. She held up her hand with two fingers crossed and mouthed, “Ask him!”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “but why do you ask?”

“Because! Jenny Blake, Jeff Henson’s nurse, went up to Indianapolis with him and they returned just a week ago.”

“So... ?”

“They were gone for four weeks, and when they came back, they were married... and she had a baby with her!“ he wailed. “And ... and ... Becky is really on my case. She’s expecting again, and it’s twins again ... at least. And to quote her, ‘I’m sick and tired of my belly getting to a door before I can even reach the doorknob!’ So she wants that power, too.”

While he had been talking, I had been watching Kris. When we learned about Jenny, Kris made a motion as if wiping sweat from her face, then rapidly nodded her head, and silently asked me to let her speak to Becky Wilkerson. I nodded. That mental communication we share is really great sometimes.

“Jon, Kris would like to speak to Becky. Is she there?”

She was and Kris took the phone. “Hi, sweetie!” she greeted her friend, “How far along are you?”

“What difference does that make?” Becky replied. (At that point, I was the one monitoring both sides of the call.)

“Just curious,” Kris blithely replied. “How far?”

“Only about the second month. I don’t look like a beach ball... yet!”

“Well, you now have the power. What’s going to happen is you’re going to stop right where you are ... Unless, of course, you want to swell. Both Mom and Tina did, and they found they could control exactly how much bulging there would be. Mom did it so she could show off to her friends at the club. Tina did it because Scott wanted to do a series of paintings of her pregnancy. The day she delivered, she had the loveliest swelling, and she even allowed her tits to grow, too.

“But anyway, what about you?”

“I think I’ll stop right here,” Becky replied.

“There’s one thing I should point out, though,” Kris added. “Doing it our way, when you deliver you’ll lose the weight of the infants plus the birth material. With twins, that could leave you looking pretty hollow. As a suggestion, you might let yourself swell a bit.”

That idea made sense to Becky who said she would probably do it.

Anyway, just three days later we were off to the Yucatan. As usual, our pilots were Guy Barnes and Bill Jones, but they were flying a brand-new plane, a Gulfstream G-550. That’s the extended-range bird that can fly point to point between almost any two places on the globe, nonstop.

In the event, we had quite a crowd. Mom, Dad and Karen were aboard along with Kris, me and Billy. Liz Johnson and Tina Harrington came with their babies, but they would be only staying for a few days and would be returning with Dad while the rest of us stayed longer. And then there were the tigers, Tom and Martha Jefferson.

The flight down was interesting. There was a small bar on the starboard side, aft, and Mother wasted no time. As soon as the seatbelt sign went off, she was out of her seat and standing behind the bar, but with her body bent over it. In an instant, her slacks and shoes were on the floor and Dad was behind her. For her part, Tina wasted no time. She knelt on the floor beside Mom and began playing with her tits and clit ring while Dad plowed her.

Talk about being multi-orgasmic! Mom was out of sight. She was cuming nonstop for a very long time. For that matter, I think Dad came in her at least twice, and maybe more than that.

When it was all over, Kris asked Tina what she had been doing.

“Well, in view of Mom’s advancing years, she needs all the help she can get,” Tina blithely responded.

That earned her a solid smack on her arm when Mom had recovered her breath. “The nerve of some people’s children... !”

With her eyes wide, Tina replied, “But I’m yours, Mom, so...” She ignored the punch on the arm, but later we saw that it was really bruised. Mom can really hit hard.

When we landed at the terminal — the airport was so small a single building served all functions — we were met by a small army of uniformed young women. There were limousines and even a Ford Expedition with its rear seats removed to carry about 1,200 pounds of tiger.

I guess it was funny, really, particularly the way the young women acted with respect to Kris, Tina and Liz. When they realized that each of them had her baby, it was Katy Bar the Door! I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Are all women hard-wired to goo at babies? From personal observation, they must be. You may remember that in my first visit Liz commented that some of the patrons acted like they wanted to walk to the car on a path of tits. Well, guess what? The attitude of the young women toward The Carriers was such that I’m certain they would have considered it an honor to be walked on! It was the return of the goddesses, and the goddesses had babies! Oh, well.

We got in the limos and moved out in a not-so-little caravan. At that point, I received another surprise: Although the airport was only a bit more than 20 miles from the Institute, it had been about an hour’s drive over one of the worst roads I had ever had the misfortune to travel on. But no more. While it was no Interstate, the road was then well paved and well marked. That trip only took about 20 minutes.

Later I learned from Wilkerson that a small portion of the money we had given the Institute had gone to the provincial governor and a few other highly-placed officials. The result was the road had been paved for the first time ever. However, he pointed out, the amount of money he had “invested” was far less than the cost of paving. Foreign Corrupt Practices Act, anyone?

Waiting for us at the main entrance were Jonathan Wilkerson and his wife, Becky. As we drove up, I commented to our driver that there were no patrons in sight. I then learned that all reservations for the period had been canceled. There were no patrons, only staff and students. Wow!

Jon greeted us warmly and ushered us into his private office. Immediately, Becky took us one by one out to her desk where a Polaroid ID camera had been set up. That only took a few minutes, and then a few minutes later she returned with ID cards, another new development at the Institute. Dad’s and mine were mounted with pocket clips while the women’s were all on gold chains. Furthermore, there was a colored band around the perimeter of the card, and all of ours were gold. Becky then filled us in on the color-coding. The students had one color, staff had another, and so forth. But there were only a tiny handful of gold cards like ours. Gold cards allowed the bearer full access to any place at any time.

Pretending to be shocked, Kris gasped, “You mean that Dad and Cam could have access to the girls’ dorm rooms? At night? When they’re sleeping?”

“Of course, Kris. Why wouldn’t they?”

Then Kris blew it totally. She giggled.

We learned that the students were on an accelerated class schedule that day since there were no patrons present. When Liz and Tina heard that, they asked if they could attend classes. But then Liz’s face fell. “But what about our babies?”

Becky laughed out loud at that one. “Believe me, Liz, that’s the least of your problems!” Immediately, she got on the PA system and we could hear a number of girls being paged. When she put the phone down she explained, “The fact of the matter is you’re doing me a huge favor. My poor little twins! About the only time I see them is when they’re in search of a working nipple.”

She grinned and added, “If it’s just a nipple to suck on, any of the girls are more than willing to provide one.” Back to her explanation, she said, “The fact is, the girls are literally standing in line to babysit. In fact, each babysitter has an assistant working as a gofer. And once in a great while — the babysitter might need to go to the bathroom — the assistant might actually get to hold a baby!”

There was a diffident knock on the door, and four girls entered, two of whom were carrying babies: Jon and Becky’s twins. The infants were sleeping soundly in the girls’ arms and appeared very contented. It was the Harris women’s turn to goo and ga, which, of course, they did immediately.

When the girls left to return the babies to their cribs, Becky explained, “There’s a theory that babies develop better if there’s someone to play with them, talk to them, and so forth. If there’s any merit to that theory, I’m certain that our kids are going to be the brightest kids on the planet! The poor things are besieged with loving ‘aunts’. But they love it!”

At that point four new girls appeared, with four others standing behind them. What followed was astonishing, to me at least. All of the girls were wearing white shorts with white cotton tops that barely made it to the bottom of their tits. The tops were closed with only two large buttons in front.

Becky proceeded to really give them a going over. She checked for any sign of makeup or perfume — a no-no: some babies don’t like it — and to ensure that the girls were spotlessly clean (they were). Then she had the four bare their breasts. One girl received a raised eyebrow because her nipples weren’t fully erect. “Babies like something to chew on sometimes,” she explained. The inspection then continued with the second rank of girls, the assistants. Finally, she informed us that, before being able to babysit, every girl had to complete a comprehensive course in baby and child care. When the girls left, cooing at their new charges, Becky admitted, “They’re all really far better at it than I am ... although I would never admit it to them!”

We were about to get down to our discussion when I realized there was an 800-pound gorilla in the corner. Or more accurately, about 1,200 pounds of tiger. When I mentioned that, both Kristin and Becky grinned. Apparently, they were way ahead of me, and they were. Again, Becky used the phone for a page and a few minutes later two very athletic-appearing girls appeared. They were wearing white shorts, white tank tops, and running shoes. The girls were beside themselves when they were introduced to the tigers, and Tom kissed their hands, while Martha curtsied.