Chapter 60

Simone came back to Sally's laden with packages from stores of which I had never heard but which I was sure, given the quality of the tiny bags, were very expensive. Small boutiques with names like 'le Petit Waif' and such. Given the quantity, I was sure she had put a serious dent in her Mom's credit cards. Nicole didn't seem to mind and surveyed the mound of merchandise with a matter of fact calm, as if this type of extravagant spree were a common occurrence. Like, right. I should talk about extravagant. Maybe I was just piqued that nothing she bought would fit me. Or maybe I was simply astounded that she and Gertie had actually managed to go shopping.

Simone distributed a couple of her purchases to Janey, Nicole and Sally, gifts for them she had picked out for them. I watched for a while, but when the lacy teddies came out and other frilly things she had purchased for herself, I felt uncomfortable, like I was intruding. I went to my office to catch up on some more work and pack a few more boxes for the move.

Simone's first indication that things were different came at dinner. She came flouncing into the dining room in a filmy negligee, more appropriate for a seduction scene in an XXX-rated video than the dinner table, although, in her defense, she was actually over dressed for what had been considered acceptable prior to this.

She got a funny look on her face when she saw the change in the seating arrangements and Janey's jeans and heavy T-shirt. And bra. Nicole and Sally were, as usual, completely naked but for their collars and nipple rings, so I would grant you, it would be confusing.

Sally and Nicole simply folded their hands and put them in their laps. Janey saw them and followed suit. My hands were already below the table, but not in my lap. Simone slipped into her chair, the only one empty. No one spoke for several minutes.

"That is a very pretty nightgown, Simone,"

"It would be a shame to soil it at the table."

"It might be better if you changed,"

"Into something like your sister is wearing."

"But you do look lovely."

It was almost funny to watch Simone's reaction to the ping-pong style of speaking that Sally and Nicole had developed. It took her a while, but she finally realized that they had asked her to change clothes and even then, it took Janey to take her by the hand and lead her into their room. The two returned dressed in jeans and shirts. By the adjusting hitch Simone had made walking in, I guessed that not only bras were being worn, but panties as well.

Sally and Nicole bestowed brilliant smiles on their decently clad daughters and dinner continued as if nothing unusual had happened. I continued to be fed and fondled and to fondle the two women as we had when we were alone. Janey and Simone tried to ignore our strange behavior, and for the most part, did a pretty good job. It was only after a particularly malicious fingering or nipple-tweak that I could get either mother to lose her train of conversation or elicit a giggle. Neither mother minded my attentions, either of themselves or the other and often rewarded my efforts with seductive winks, a squeeze of my prick or a tongue dueling kiss. The teens eventually stopped staring when these things would occur.

The biggest change in the routine was the assignment of cleanup duty. It was now the teens' responsibility to do the dishes, clean the kitchen and then to 'disappear' for a while following dinner, as well as all other meals. It almost raised an objection, but faced with the unified front of all three of adults, they wisely kept their own counsel.

That night, preparing my wives for bed, I sensed that there was something disturbing them. "Hands," I commanded and two pairs of wrists were produced. Still, something was wrong. I waited, not tying them.

"Master? We would like to request something."

"Not to complain. Please do not misunderstand"

"We are exceedingly happy with all that you do."

"You know that something occurred between Sally and me."

"We, well, we find we need to touch."

"It is not necessary and if it pleases you"

"To arrange us at night to prevent us touching"

"Then we will be pleased to please you."

"But, Master, it is better for us if we can touch."

"If it pleases you."

They stopped and waited, their palms still together, waiting for me. I knelt down in front of them, and lifted each lowered head to look at me. There was no fear or defiance in them. It was simply a request, but only if I would be pleased.

As enjoyable as having them bound as they were last night was, there were a hundred other possibilities. I decided to go with one.

"I do not want this to be a punishment for you, but I want you bound at night, as befits your status as my slaves. I think, however, we can make a few modifications."

I had them kneel on the bed facing each other. Then, with the soft cords I had used the night before I tied their wrists together, right to left, left to right. They were squealing in delight when they realized what I was doing. I wasn't done yet.

I lay them down on their sides with their lower arms extended over their heads. That pair of wrists I fastened to the headboard. Then I bound their ankles together similar to the way their wrists were, right to left, left to right.

It wasn't until I was finished that the two sobered.

"But Master?" began Nicole in a forlorn voice.

"Where will you sleep?"

Grinning, I stepped between them and had them move as far apart as possible. They lifted their top set of arms automatically and I settled down gently between them, fitting my legs between the upper and lower sets of theirs. It was tight and it was a bit uncomfortable until we all learned to move the same way but after a bit of adjustment it was glorious. I made sweet love to both of them that night, the other wife an active participant riding my back, loving and encouraging the greatest enjoyment from the mating couple. It became our preferred sleeping arrangement.

When I woke up, Sally and Nicole were in blissful slumber. I untied their arms that were holding me in and carefully extricated myself. I hoped they would take that partial release as a sign they could finish untying themselves when they awoke.

I had been in my office about half an hour when Simone appeared at my side. I had never seen her wear such a thick or covering nightdress, and she wore a robe over that. Still, she was a lovely sight to see, except for the look of concern on her face.

"Papa?" she asked hesitantly, "May I sit on your lap?"

"Of course, Simone." I pushed my chair back for her and she climbed on. She seemed uncomfortable, as she was sitting way down my thighs. I hauled her slight frame up against me and her head finally nestled against my chest.

"This is OK? Being this close?"

"Sure. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe it was something I had done, that you didn't want to see me anymore, but Janey said it was her, too. Is it what Gertie said? She was just teasing you, you know."

I held the little girl tightly to me, resting my chin lightly on the top of her head. She was so tender, so sensitive. Hell, they all were. As the tears fell from my eyes, I sent her the same messages I had sent to Janey; that I loved her so very much, like a Papa, that I was proud of her, that I would always support her in whatever way I could, that I only wanted what was best for her. Things had changed, though and that this was now for the best. We had to move on, to grow. She had to take what she had learned here and start to face the world, to build her own life.

I don't know how long we sat there, father and daughter, but it was a long time. She understood what I had been trying to tell her, then began to convey to me all the things that Gertie had told her and what she had guessed and pieced together beyond that. I always knew she was a smart girl, but this went way past 2 + 2 = 4. And she was frightened, not for herself, but for me. She didn't know what or why, but she guessed a lot of my life story, what I had done.

She took me back to the beach we had gone to that first time so long ago. Our separate sandcastles had all been moved together, one bulwark made up of all of our individual sands, standing together, united against the swirling tides. She looked at the mounded sands that represented our family with a sense of pride, of belonging.

Taking my hand we wandered through the castle, suddenly in the dream very small in relation to it, like Alice in Wonderland going down the rabbit hole. As we passed by the multi-hued grains, the faces of our history, she would stop and point to one or another of them, asking me for that particular story, how this one had died, why had I killed that one.

She seemed to know who they were, the various enemies I had brought down. I realized then that I had been telling her, all along, which ones they were by my own fears that colored the grains.

We wept for the dead, Simone and I, friend and foe alike, our tears mingling together with the waves, washing and cleansing. The fear was still there, but Simone had a way of healing, drawing out the pain. It was her gift, her talent and she was learning to use it well.

Sally and Nicole found us asleep in my chair when they came to get me for breakfast, Simone's head lying comfortably on my chest with her hand holding mine, my chin resting easily on her head. Nicole broke down and cried and it wasn't until she haltingly explained that that was the exact way she remembered her own Papa that we knew she was happy for Simone, that she was finally healed from her ordeal.

Moving day was an anticlimax. We got dressed, all of us today, the movers came, the movers left. We got in the cars and followed. We were home.

Sally and Nicole had been busy at the house a lot, but they weren't the only ones who had done a little work and preparation. This was an old house and had originally had a stable attached, which my father had converted into a huge garage. I had several cars stored there that I had collected over the years, not necessarily vintage collector cars, but ones I liked.

Leading the small caravan of cars around to the parking area, I parked my BMW in front of a door marked with an "L." There were other garage bays with letters on them as well. An "M" for Marion, an "N" for Nicole, a "J" for Janey and not one but two "S"s.