Copyright© 2001-2003

A sweetheart named Teresa Arden
Went down on her beau in the garden.
He said, "Good lord, Tess,
Don't swallow that mess!"
And she replied, "Ulp, beg your pardon?"

"Turn your light off and get some sleep young man!" Gregory's mother had her head stuck in her son's bedroom doorway, and though she spoke harshly, she had a familiar gentle smile on her lips. It was the warm familiar 'game' she played as a 'mom'.

"OK mom." Gregory put down his book and reached for the bedside light. It had been a good book and he loved to read!

"Good night honey. Get some rest, its the first day of school for you tomorrow." He knew, how could he forget.

"Night." She closed his door softly just as Gregory turned off his light - her instructions having been correctly followed.

Gregory's father had been transferred to this city and the family had just moved into their new home two days ago. Much of the house still had piles of boxes that needed to be attended too. But Gregory's bedroom was nearly finished, especially his books and computer, his clothing was still in opened packing boxes.

Time passed slowly, as it always seems to if you can't sleep. There was a little amount of street lights coming through the single bedroom window, from the quiet streets outside, enough to see much of his room. Though Gregory was trying to get to sleep, he really did not want too - dreading his first day at the new school.

The neighbourhood Gregory and his family had moved into was much different than what they had been used too. They had moved from a three bedroom apartment located downtown - this new house was in suburbia and had a huge lot with a five bedroom house. The neighbourhood had huge oak trees lining the roads and it was always very quiet, day or night.

One thing had not changed though, his father still travelled a lot for work. Possibly more so now that he had to work in his old location, for a few months, till a replacement could be found. Gregory doubted he will see his father a total of one week in the next twelve.

Car lights illuminated Gregory's room for a second, before the squeal of a car turning into the drive next door was heard.

The fifteen year old boy sat up in his bed - looking for any excuse not to sleep, and if he leaned over the edge, he would be able to just see over the sill of the ledge. He had learnt that much in the two days he had lived in this room.

It was his neighbours - or at least it as an old four door car pulling into the side driveway of his neighbour's home. His family had not seen anyone on that side of their home yet, it was notable as three other neighbours had already come to pay their respects - one bearing a freshly backed apple pie.

This mediocrity nauseated the teenager boy.

A tall skinny teen climbed out of the car and stood looking around - as if checking to see if anyone was coming. The driver turned the lights of the car off but left it running, the glow from a cigarette could be seen through the driver side window.

Gregory began to wonder if these guys were, in fact, not his new neighbours but someone thinking of breaking into their home.

Then the neighbours garage opened, and the tall teen began to slowly walk toward it. There was movement in the dim corners of the open door then three people started to come out. This calmed Gregory, knowing then that these could not be burglars.

Gregory sat bolt upright and practically pressed his nose against the glass of the window when he saw that the skinny teen was joined by another, short dumpy teenager, and they were carrying someone.

It was not 'something' but 'someone' - there was no mistaking!

It had to be a woman, as her long hair was dragging in the driveway, and she was bound wrist and ankle. The white rope could just barely be viewed. Her head was whipping about and her hips thrashing - as if trying to get away. Even in the shadowed light from the street lamps, I could see the wide terrified whites of her eyes - the gray tape over her mouth.

What was going on, Gregory thought near panic?

The trunk of the large old car popped open and the two teenagers half-carried, half-dragged the woman to the boot and swung her in. Without another glance, the tall skinny teen slammed the trunk door closed.

The two teens stood chatting for a few minutes, before the short chubby boy returned back to the garage. The wide steel door started to shut.

The driver turned the headlights of his car on and began to ease his big old vehicle out of the driveway.

All the while the tall teenager, stood waiting, his eyes scanning the area.

The teenager went over to the car, now waiting in the middle of the quiet road, opened the door and lifted one foot into its dark interior when he looked up and right into Gregory's eyes.

No one believed it - his mother, nor his sister. Said it was a product of his active imagination, too many books his sister suggested.

In fact, a week after that night, Gregory started to doubt what he had seen as well - when the neighbour, a Mrs. Simon, came over to introduce herself. Behind her stood her son, a short dumpy pimply teenager whom she introduced as Paul. The mother had a cute round face, but was otherwise a short voluptuously round middle aged woman.

Then Gregory noticed Mrs. Simon's long hair, straight and nearly to her waist. These were the two that he had seen that night - but perhaps he had imagined it, perhaps having seen them prior to that dream?

The teenagers shook hands, "Hi."

"Hey."

"You boys go out back will you?"

Paul replied, "Sure mom."

The two mothers were animatedly chatting - Gregory's asking about the best places to shop in the neighbourhood, or some other mindless chatter. The two of them already acting like life long friends and the thought disgusted Gregory.

"I was told to talk with you." Paul seemed embarrassed.

The leaves were falling, and the boys kicked through ankle deep piles - heading to a bench in Greg's backyard. It had been left from the previous owners - probably since it was rotting wood and would never have survived being moved.

Greg's heart was pounding rapidly as he tentatively asked, "About last week?" Somehow he knew that his voyeur tendencies of last week were known by this older boy.

Paul sat down on the old bench, brushing leaves from its surface first - his eyes noticing the rot of the old wood. He then mumbled, "Yes."

There - he knew it. He had not been dreaming, Gregory realized, almost thankfully! If it had not been a dream... ?

"What the hell was going on?"

The older teenager just shrugged and kicked at the multi-coloured leaves at his feet.

Greg sat down next to him, feeling the tension between the two.

If he hadn't been dreaming last week, then he had seen Paul and another guy take out a bound woman from Paul's house. A woman that had the same shape and long hair as Paul's mother.

"I wanted to call the cops after what I saw."

Paul started to huff, as only chubby boys can, and turned sideways to glare at the young teen.

Gregory continued, "I didn't of course. Mom thought it was only a dream."

Paul visibly calmed and sat back, but now kept his eyes on the teenager next to him.

"I'm glad you didn't." The chubby boy added after calming himself.

"Why?" Gregory just had to know what was going on - it was like a mystery in one of his books.

The chubby boy shrugged and again seemed embarrassed.

Then after a few minutes of embarrassed silence, he rushed, "You're new around here - and you're too young."

What did either of those have to do with what he saw.

Greg asked, "Whatever you were doing, was it something illegal?"

Paul suddenly stood up and started to walk slowly, as if in thought, back to the Himes house. Greg rushed to catch up, more confused now than before Paul had come over with his mom.

"I'll talk with him OK, just promise not to say anything to anyone else?"

Greg still had no idea what the boy was talking about but figured he would find out soon enough, if he did as was asked, "Sure."

"Yea, Paul here. Can you come over this afternoon at two o'clock?" It was a Saturday.

"Sure." This was it, he was finally going to find out what he had seen - it was probably nothing surely. Some prank most probably.

Paul mumbled something then hung up the phone.

The tall thin teenager that shook his hand could only be the boy that helped Paul carry the bound woman. Paul stood to the side looking nervous but staying mute.

"Hi, I'm Greg." He did his own introduction - as Paul seemed frozen with inaction. More certain than ever, his imagination had built up the events he had witnessed.

"Call me Cray." He was older than Greg or Paul, nineteen the young man guessed.

Cray looked calm and relaxed as he ignored Paul and lead Greg into the large clean living room. A tray was set, with soft drinks and chips. Paul stood in the doorway nervous and silent.

"Paul told me about your chat earlier this week."

Greg shrugged and smiled, "It was dark and I had no idea what was going on."

"Of course. I'm here to clear up any concerns you have."

"Thanks." Greg took a chip and munched loudly on it.

"Do you have any questions?"

"Uh... yes, who was the girl I saw you guys carrying?" He half expected Cray to say a girlfriend or a cousin, all a harmless prank.

"Paul's mom."

Gregory's hand froze half ways to the chip bowl. The young teen starred up at the chubby boy and saw that he was staring at the hardwood floor before him - obviously not willing to join into the conversation. In fact, Paul looked very embarrassed.

As before, Greg's heart began to pound and he started to think this wasn't all an exaggeration of his imagination.

A large clock in the corner started to chime, startling Greg.

"Would you boys like anything else?" Paul's mom came silently around the corner, from another entrance to check on her sons friends.

Cray spoke up with a voice Gregory had never heard a teenager use with an adult before, "Just stand right there and don't say a word." Greg looked to Paul to see his reaction at the rough instruction given to his mother by another guy, but the boy just stood mute - as now did the mother.

"How old are you Greg?"

The question startled him, but he answered quickly, "Fifteen."

"Hum... a little young... but I suppose there are outside factors to consider." What 'factors' thought the boy?

Cray seemed to think for several minutes, the only sound was of the clock as it ticked to the passing seconds.

Finally, "Do you have any bonds or savings that you can get?"

"What does that have anything to do... ?"

Cray interrupted impatiently, "Just answer the question and take it easy, you'll understand everything soon enough."

"Yea, sure. My parents have been putting money into a bond for college for years. Of course I don't have access to it."

"Your mother does?"

For some reason, it made Greg nervous to include his mother in this conversation, "Sure."

"What do you think about Paul here?" Cray looked humorously at the chubby boy still standing in the foyer entrance.

Greg shrugged before replying honestly, "I barely know him." What he did know was that the chubby guy was an odd person, one that he would not normally associate with in any social circle that he could think of.

"What are you initial impressions - what do you think about him?"

"A little overweight, shy... nervous." Greg wasn't sure how honest he could be with the teenager only a meter away.

"Fat and stupid would be closer to the mark."

Greg shrugged.

"Paul - what do you think about Greg here?"

It was the first time he had spoken since the visit - "A nerd."

Cray laughed when he saw Gregory's face redden.

After he calmed down the older teenager finally continued, "One of the prerequisites of joining our little group is that your an outsider of 'normal' society. A 'nerd' fits that profile. And since you saw our little transaction the other night, I'll forget that your a year too young."

What the fuck was going on here, thought Gregory, getting angry. What 'transaction'?

"Another prerequisite is that you have to afford our service." The skinny teen reached out and took a can of pop - probably thirsty from doing all the talking thought Greg.

"Now, would you like our help?"

Cray sat staring at the young teen as if he seriously expected an answer.

Greg finally lost it, most probably from the confusing but frightening content of his own thoughts, he stood up abruptly and shouted, "I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about!"

Calmly, "Sit down Greg." Gregory did, with reservation. "Did you not wonder how Tilly here", he nodded to Mrs. Simon smiling standing form, "could be seen kicking and bound from her own home and then appear the next week as if nothing happened?"

Of course he had, "Yes."

"Paul here had his mother programmed to be his slave."

Paul screamed out in his normally hoarse voice, "Cray!"

Greg looked from Paul to Tilly Simon to Cray slowly, incredibly. Not one of them looked like they were about to break out laughing - as if this was all a joke.

"Oh, calm down Paul. Nearly ever guy who hires us has their mom, aunt or sister programmed. Its perfectly natural."

What? Greg stood again and felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest, before walking on unsteady legs out of the large expensive home.

His mother's name was Sara. Sara Himes. She brought the last bowl for supper to the table, mashed potatoes, before sitting at the end of the table.

They sat in the kitchen, as they only ate in the dining room when Gregory's father was home - which was very rare.

"Honey you OK?"

"Why did we have to move here mom?"

She looked at her youngest child with sympathy, when Yvonne interrupted, "I think this place is great!"

Greg cursed her silently, she always thought everything was great. She was also so damn perky, thought her brother.

The mother of two reached over and took her son's hand in both her hers, and met his eye firmly. "Please give it a chance Gregory, for your fathers sake?" She was almost pleading with him.

They moved to a different city, to the fucking burbs, for his father - now Greg was propositioned by some weird fucking perverts. He stared into his mothers green eyes, the same colour as his, and then moved down to her lips - full, red and moist.

She must have thought she was loosing her son's focus, and stood up to stand before him. Before Greg realized it, his head was pressed between the valley of his mothers breasts as she hugged him fiercely.

"Darling, I love you so much, you know you can talk to me about anything right?"

The rear of his skull was pressing into the curve of her right boob - the clean smell of her sweater and of the subtle perfume she used filled his nostrils - before him he imagined he saw the press of her nipple thrusting against her garment.

God, realizing these new thoughts must have originated by the crude introduction to that alter world Cray thought he lived in, and they were wrong in so many ways.

"I'm fine mom." He firmly pushed her away from him, fearing that twitching between his legs.

"OK honey." She bent down and kissed the top of his head, thus allowing the vee neck of her sweater to drop away from her right before her son's eyes. "Love you."

Greg looked down to his mothers white bra and the swell of her breasts.

Yvonne was driving Gregory nuts - why did she not hate this place as much as he did? It was her last year of high school and she seemed genuinely excited about the possibility of completing it here, in the burbs. Already planning on where to go to University with an ecstatic excitement that drove her brother nuts.

Paul was phoning nearly every day and Gregory's mom was asking her son why he didn't want to talk or make friends with the boy next door.

In fact the only thing Gregory wanted to do, was sit in his room and read. It was the escape he craved, from the crazy notions that Cray had presented him. And when he sat at the table with his sister and mother, he could not help but notice that his mom was indeed a woman. It was driving him crazy with guilt and a new foreign lust that he had never felt before. His mom only had to lean away from him and his eyes will immediately look to her bottom. If she licked her lips clean, he would see it as if in slow motion - her red glistening tongue rolling over her full red lips.

To make matters worse, when Gregory would not return Paul's phone calls or answer the door when he came over, Paul's mom Tilly started to hang out with Greg's mom, Sara. They gossipped about the neighbours, talked about books or movies, sometimes about their husbands, and even about their son's. It was another reason for Gregory to hid in his room, he would often find Mrs. Simon in the living room for a visit.

It disgusted the reclusive fifteen year old - that that woman who participated in such filth could be in his home, becoming friends with is mother.

The phone rang, and Mrs. Simon yelled up the stairs, "Your mom is outside talking to the milkman Gregory... can you get that?"

No, he immediately thought, it may be your moronic son!

He picked it up regardless, inherently conditioned to response correctly to person of authority. "Don't hang up Greg." It was Cray. "I'm a little worried about you son?" Gregory simply stood there, not uttering a word. "To prove our worth to you, as well as to keep you from telling anyone our secret, I'm going to do you a favour."

Favour, Gregory did not want any favours from Cray, Paul or any other disgusting pig.

"Did you notice your sister wasn't home yet? Well, she will be a little late tonight. And if you are happy with our adjustments, you can pay us later...".

Gregory slammed the phone down on the hook. "Prick."

Suddenly Gregory felt his veins turn to ice, what did Cray mean by 'adjustments' he wondered. They wouldn't dare drag his sister, kicking and screaming, to shove her into some old car trunk would they?

Oh god, what have I gotten Yvonne into, the teenager wondered!

Greg could hear his mom talking animately with Sara and knew he could not confide in her.

Though he tried to say awake as late as possible, Yvonne was not home when he finally fell asleep. His mother reassured him, "These graduation clubs can take hours Gregory - don't worry." Of course Mrs. Simon had been sipping tea at the table across from his mother, reassuringly, her eyes following him.

Maybe it was a little draft from his bedroom door being opened but consciousness suddenly returned to Gregory in the darkness of his room. "Yvonne?"

"Yes." Her voice was huskier than normal, near whispering, but must have been somewhere between his door and his bed. The night was a dark one, no moon, so that his bedroom was pitch black. Even the street lights seemed to make no difference to the blanket of darkness within his room.

"Where have you been?" He sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He wanted to ask if she was OK, if some odd characters had dragged her kicking and screaming into the boot of their old car, but the words could not come out for fear of the answer as well as the inability to phrase the question correctly.

"With your friends." That made his heart nearly stop, since he understood what she meant. The strange thing, was that she was not irrational with anger. What had they done to her, he wondered not for the first time?

"Cray?"

"Yes." Something rustled but Gregory could not place the sound, it had been near his sister. Had she tightened her bathrobe maybe?

"Does mom know you got home?" She had gone to bed before Gregory had fallen asleep, though his mom didn't appear worried in the least. Her eldest had never been in any trouble and was always the dependable trust-worthy child. Yvonne had always been given a looser reign by their mother.

"She is still asleep." Why was she talking with such a deep voice?

Yvonne stepped closer to his bed, the sound of her bare feet almost loud upon the hard-wood floor.

Finally, the dark silence drove him to ask, "Are you OK Yvonne?" It was the closest he could come to asking the direct questions.

"Oh yes." She sounded very sure of her answer.

Another step closer and another strange rustle from her vicinity, until it was obvious she was standing directly next to his bed. From this distance, Gregory could hear her heavy anxious breathing, deafening in his small room. He could even smell the sweet smell of her favourite perfume - she must have applied it generously Greg thought.

"Yvonne... ?"

"I want you Gregory." She almost hissed this statement out, in a hushed whisper. It was deafening to the teenage boy, the sound of those words ringing in his ears.

She had to be joking, some type of sick joke at his expense! Gregory knew this could not be true - his sister was a distant flighty older girl and they had nothing but their shared last name in common.

His body shivered as if cold and he asked, "Want me how Yvonne?" Gregory felt stupid simply asking, fearing he knew the answer already.

She didn't hesitate though, in her hoarse voice, "I want you in me."

Outside, the wind blew through the big old oak trees, whistling at this insane moment. Before him, in the dark of his room, his sister stood breathing heavily - showing more patience than he head ever seen within her before.

Then she moved, toward the curtained window - pulling it aside with a deafening rasp. The distant street lights darted into the dark room, illuminating it barely. There standing before the window was his sister, completely bare. Her smooth skin the brightest object in the room - so much so that her brother's eyes could not take his eyes away from her.

Looking out the window, "Gregory, Cray is still outside."

The teenage boy jumped up and stood next to his naked sister and looked down. Outside leaning against his car was Cray. He was smoking, and the glowing tobacco like a firefly in the night, as he looked up right into Gregory's eyes.

The two shared a long look, Gregory too stunned to move or say a word. Then Cray smiled, like a triumphant viper may, and slipped into the passenger side of the car. It began to leave, with not a light turned on.

Soon Cray and the car was gone.

When Gregory finally turned his eyes from the view from his window, he saw that his sister was upon his bed, beneath the covers with only her firm perky breasts exposed as she was sitting as if waiting for him.

"I want you Gregory." She looked very calm, a rare look in his sister, as if this was her sole reason for living.

"He did this to you Yvonne?"

"Cray said it was what you wanted?" Her brow furled, and it looked alien upon her angelic face in some way.

A dream, this had to be some fucking strange dream thought Gregory.

A warm strong hand took his and pulled it. Gregory found his thin hand suddenly holding a large firm teenage breast, the first he had ever touched. Yvonne was smiling gently at him, and he knew this was no joke.

What had Cray done to her, this was not the sister he had always known?

"I am yours Gregory and I want nothing else in life but to make you happy!" She was smiling broader now, her tiny hard nipple starting to harden and thrust forcibly into his palm.

Gregory understood the madness, even if it appeared nothing more than a dream. Cray had 'adjusted' his sister for him, had turned Yvonne into his 'slave'. It was impossible to believe but the indescribable feel of that perky breast oh so very exciting - his first touch of a woman!

What had he said, if he was 'happy with the adjustments', then he could pay latter.

Yvonne gently lay back onto his bed, and kicked the covers down to her feet. There laying before him was the first naked woman he had ever seen, the most beautiful creature that he had ever laid eyes upon.

Gregory realized his hand still held her breast, her nipple like a diamond point pressing into his palm, and she was smiling and gently rubbing her feet together in expectant pleasure.

Cray had done something to her, made Yvonne want her own brother - turned her into his 'slave'. Gregory sat down awkwardly, next to his naked sister.

"I... ?" He wanted to tell her that this was lunacy, that she would hate even being naked with him the next morning - but he could not find the words. She looked lovely and all other thoughts left him like a leaf on the wind.

Then all he wanted to warn her about was his inadequacy with girls, his virginity a barrier to his happiness.

Yet it didn't matter.

Yvonne's hand slipped along his cotton covered thigh and grasped his hard penis. It was the first female touch to do so, realized Gregory with embarrassment. His sister sighed with barely contained pleasure and slowly rolled over toward him.

Fishing out his erect member, his pale shaft thrusting comically from between the folds of his pyjamas bottoms, Yvonne gently leaned in and took him into her mouth.

Then she moaned... loudly... and Gregory started to ejaculate within his sister's mouth.

"About time you came down honey. Did you have a good meeting last night Yvonne?" The seventeen year old sat down heavily at the kitchen chair, across from her younger brother.

"It was a wonderful 'meeting' mother - very informative." She smiled knowingly at Gregory while he blushed a bright red. Their mother never noticed a thing.

It hadn't been a dream but the most incredible reality of his young life. Gregory had come in his sisters hungry mouth and she had not missed a drop. Then, after she eased him into his own bed, she had crawled into his arms and began to pump her crotch into his thigh - bringing herself to orgasm within minutes. Then the two siblings had fallen asleep, the smell of her pleasure obvious in the room, her head upon his chest and her hand encircling his soft cock.

Gregory had awoke with a hard dick and nothing but a memory. A part of him wished it had been a dream, another part hoped it was true - but until Yvonne had smiled at him just now, he wasn't sure what had truly happened last night.

How quickly he had accepted this crazed reality shocked the teenage boy - that he could forget morality and the laws of nature so quickly after touching the warm seductive flesh of his sisters breast!

It being Saturday, everyone was surprised when the doorbell ran and Mrs. Simon stood in the rear door window smiling and waving comically. Yvonne and Gregory groaned hugely and then quickly disappeared from the table. Their mom gave them a dirty look as they rushed to escape, then turned on her smile and moved toward the door.

Just as Gregory was entering his room, his sister rushed past him and jumped onto his bed. After he closed the door she knelt upon his messy covers and reached out to wrap her arms around her brother and lay a passionate kiss upon his lips. "Morning my brother dearest."

Gregory, feeling like he was weightless and even the simplest movements were foreign, lay his open palm upon his sisters covered ass. Her strong round buttock clenched and then relaxed as Yvonne sighed and gave him another kiss.

"Tonight dearest?" Her eyes were like a child's, he noticed, anxiously awaiting his agreement for the rendezvous.

Gregory was happier than he ever remembered, his sister had promised to come to his room late that night - and though he knew it was wrong, there was nothing more important in this teenagers life at that moment.

He was remembering the sounds of his sisters moaning as she humped into his thigh when the shower door opened.

There stood Tilly Simon staring at him as if he was a juicy steak.

"What... !" He reached for the handle to close it again but Mrs. Simon moved in the way and his hand pressed into her soft stomach.

"Oh... you naughty boy!" She was smiling deliciously toward the teen.

"Get... get out of here Mrs. Simon!" He actually covered his crotch with both his hands.

She ignored his plea, "Cray asked me if you liked what he did for you?"

"What... ?" It seemed incredible that she should be talking to him like this, about this. Does everyone know about Yvonne and him, he thought with something bordering on panic?

"Yvonne silly. She being 'conditioned' to be your slave?"

Gregory noticed that her nipples were poking out of her dowdy flower pattered dress.

She continued, though he was sure she caught him looking at her chest, "He was not sure if you wanted your mom or sister - but told me to tell you that there is nothing against you having both." She laughed knowingly and it disgusted the teenager.