Chapter 4: Anne

As we were checking out of the ski resort, the next morning, the lady at the front desk game me a small package wrapped in brown paper. "It's from Brian," she said. "You are to open it in private."

As we were pulling onto the highway, Pyx unwrapped the box. Inside was a zip-lock baggie full of marijuana, and a generous supply of rolling papers.

Vonda and Pyx were elated.

I was troubled. "You better smoke all you can now. There's no way I'm going to take it on the plane."

Vonda pulled out an enclosed note. "Brian says that he's never had a problem flying with pot. All the dogs, these days, are trained to smell for explosives, not drugs."

"I'm not taking the chance. I'm not going to have our vacation ruined by getting busted."

Vonda rolled a joint, and started pondering the problem, as she and Pyx toked up.

It was Pyx who came up with the solution. "Why don't we mail it back to Tulsa?"

Vonda chimed in. "Yeah. And if it gets nabbed in transit, we can say that someone sent it to us as a joke."

I could find no hole in that plan, and since we had time, I used the car's GPS to find the nearest package shipping store on our way to Denver International.

As a stroke of genius, I put all our ski clothes, that we wouldn't need for the rest of our trip, packed them all in a separate box, and sent them home, as well.

The flight to Portland, Oregon was uneventful. The novelty of flying was still new to my girls. They spent most of the flight plastered to a window.

It was drizzling when we landed, and it was still sprinkling when we drove into town, in our rental sedan.

The car's GPS directed us to C & A Motorcycles. It turned out that Clint's house was connected to the business, through a door that I had thought was a hall closet, when I was there for the funeral.

The main entrance to the business was through the showroom, where a dozen new gleaming motorcycles stood, waiting to be sold.

An attractive brunette in a business suit, that showed off a lot of cleavage, greeted us as we entered.

"Hi, I'm Julie. Looking to get into a cycle today?" she said with a cheerful grin.

I shook her hand. "Hi, Julie. I'm Alex Woodward. I own this place. Half of it, actually."

Panic lit her face. "That was today?! I'm so sorry. Anne meant to meet you at the airport. She isn't the best with dates."

"I understand. Work comes first. Is she here?"

"Sure," she pointed to a white door on the far wall. "Go through there, down the hall, to the door at the end. Anyone back there can guide you to her."

The short hallway had two small rooms on each side, evidently for negotiating and filling out paperwork. The door at the end buzzed, letting us through.

The three of us stepped through, into a cavernous garage. The sounds of hammering and metal being cut filled the air, making it hard to hear anything else.

A girl nearby, wearing coveralls and ear covers was working on disassembling a motorcycle engine. I tapped her on the shoulder. "Where's Anne?" I yelled.

She assumed I was supposed to be there. "Over there! Welding!" She pointed to the left, where bright flashes of light could be seen from behind a barrier.

She pointed to a row of headphone-style ear covers hanging on the wall. "You'll need those!"

We yelled our thanks, put on the ear covers, and headed toward the light.

As we approached, I started looking for eye protection. Fortunately, the welding stopped as we got close.

Anne raised her welding mask, and pointed out some detail of her work to the girls who were watching her. She saw me, and told her students to carry on. The part-owner took off her welding mask & walked toward me.

"Was it today? I'm sorry. I lost track of when you were due."

Anne Cunningham was a big woman. She stood a good two inches taller than me, with broad shoulders. She had a blonde mullet that went down to her collar, and a tiny stud earring in each lobe. If you looked "bull dyke" up in the dictionary, her picture would be next to it.

"Not a problem. It's good to know you're keeping busy.

"I'd like you to meet my girls: Vonda..."

They shook hands warmly.

" ... and Pyx."

Anne's eyes lit up when she saw my petite slave. "Well, aren't you the cutest thing!"

Pyx cowered behind me. I hadn't seen her this frightened since the first day I met her. "M-Master..." she whispered to me.

"I'm sorry," I said to Anne. "She can be a bit shy at times."

"No, I'm sorry. I sometimes come on too strong for some people."

She turned to the frightened girl. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Talk to anyone here. I wouldn't hurt a fly."

Anne led us around the massive garage, showing us all the various stations for customizing and repair.

"Are all your employees female?" asked Vonda.

She nodded. "I've trained them all myself. Best 'cycle mechanics in the Northwest."

"Where did you find them?"

"They're mostly runaways. I found them at the train or bus station, or the airport."

"Not all of them can have the talent to be mechanics," said Vonda.

"Some don't," admitted Anne. "The artistic types work in the paint shop. Julie, who you've met, couldn't unscrew a nut, but she could sell ice to an Eskimo. I also have a team that cooks and cleans for this crew."

"And all of them eat pussy," said Vonda.

The boss smiled. "Like I said, I trained them all.

"There are a couple of girls who are strictly hetero. They've been at loose ends since Clint's been gone."

Vonda whispered into Pyx's ear.

She blushed and nodded.

A loud bell rang, and all the machinery sounds stopped.

Anne took off her ear covers. "It's five o'clock. We're closing down for the day, and will be eating soon. Care to join us?"

I nodded. "Do you all live here at the garage?"

"Yep. One big happy family.

"We haven't touched Clint's place. You can sleep there tonight."

All the girls, including Julie, filed through a set of double doors, and down a hall. It opened up into a long room. There was a table that ran the length, covered with a white tablecloth, and was set for dinner. Somebody had told them we were here, because there were places set for us.

On the table were big bowls of beef stew, platters of cornbread, and brownies for dessert. It was acceptable food, but it all tasted like it was all prepackaged, and all the cooks did was heat it up.

Pyx leaned forward and asked Anne, in a small voice, "Could I see your kitchen later?"

"Pyx, here, works at a four-star restaurant in Tulsa," I explained.

She perked up. "Really? Our cooks are always looking for any help they can get."

Pyx bowed her head. "I don't know if can be of much help. But I'll try my best."

"How many are working in the kitchen right now?" I asked.

"Three."

"So you have a total of twenty girls."

"At the moment," said Anne. "We have a core that is permanent. But some come and go. Others move on, and we never see them again.

"Which brings up a concern I hope you can help me with, Alex."

"I'll do what I can."

"A few months before Clint died, his assistant, Angie, got her GED and decided to go to college. He started training a new girl, Briana, to take her place. He had her up to speed on secretarial skills, but had just started in teaching her bookkeeping.

"She had tried mightily to use the software Clint used. But we're behind on our records, and need to be caught up before tax day."

"I'll see what I can do. Hopefully your software is similar to mine."

After dinner, Vonda sat at the table, talking with some of the girls. Pyx joined another bunch, playing a board game I had never seen before.

I was invited by another six to play some poker. It seems that Clint had started the game, and these girls had kept it going in his honor.

I basically broke even that night, but I had a sneaking suspicion that they had gone easy on me.

When the game ended, I noticed that none of my girls were present. I was informed that they had already gone to bed. I got instructions, and headed to Clint's house, where we were sleeping.

In the bedroom, my girls weren't there, but there were sounds of the shower running. I shucked off my clothes, and went in to join them.

I was shocked to find not two, but three girls in the shower. None of them were mine. "I'm sorry, am I in the wrong place?"

Julie, the saleswoman, the only one I knew by name, said "You're in the right place. We're your bedmates for tonight. A gift from Vonda and Pyx."

I then remembered that these were the girls Vonda had been talking to after dinner. "And where are my girls?"

All three giggled. The black girl spoke first. "They're off with all the others, getting 'better acquainted.'" She made quote marks with her fingers.

"I've met Julie," I said to with C-cup tits, "but I don't know you two."

The black girl, with dark skin and short hair, did a little curtsy. "I'm Mimi. I work in the paint shop, and sometimes housekeeping." She was six foot two and had massive DD tits and a wide ass, but not overweight. She could easily get a job as a nude model.

The last girl was Hispanic, and seemed shier than the others. "My name is Linda," she said, blushing slightly. "I work on engines, on the main floor." She had straight black shoulder-length hair, and dark eyes. She was five foot four, had narrow hips, and small A-cup breasts. The left one was slightly larger than the right.

Julie stepped up and handed me two prescription medicine bottles, both were made out to Clint Woodward. One was for Viagra and the other for Cialis.

"I don usually need..."

Mimi cut in. "Believe me, by the time we're done with you, you'll need it."

I took one blue and one peach pill.

Feeling like they were going to take control, I decided to assert my dominance. "I don't know if Vonda told you, but I have one requirement of all girls I sleep with."

They all looked a little leery. "What's that?" asked Julie.

"Each girl must have shaved pussy."

All three relaxed. "We haven't done that in while," said Linda.

Mimi stepped out of the shower, and returned with a razor and shaving cream. I assumed they were from Clint's toiletries.

The shower was large. It had six nozzles and could easily hold ten people. On the far wall, away from the shower heads, was shower bench that could seat three. The girls took turns sitting on it, while another shaved her smooth.

They finished remarkably quick. "Are we acceptable now?" asked Mimi.

I got down and inspected each. Their readiness was obvious. All three had rock hard clits, and fluid glistening between their swollen labia.

"Very nice," I said. "Have you figured who I'm going to fuck first."

Linda spoke. "We thought we'd let you decide."

"I thought I'd do you all at once."

Julie gaped. "You can do that?"

"I've done it with two before, not three. Let's see how it works."

We stepped out of the shower and dried off. "All three of you get on the bed."

They crawled onto the king-sized bed. I then arranged them so their rears were facing me, with Mimi in the middle, Linda on the left and Julie on the right. They were in a slight arc toward me, not just side-by-side. I then adjusted their height above the bed, so my cock lined up with their pussies. For the leggy Mimi, I had her hunch down as low as she could, with her knees spread wide.

"Are you all ready?" I asked.

"Oh yeah," said Julie.

"Let's make sure."

Using both hands, I ran my index and middle fingers between their pussy lips. I rotated, so all got equal attention.

"Enough!" cried Mimi. "I want to come on your cock, not your hand."

I was about to rebuke her, but I stopped myself. These were not subs, like I was used to. "Okay. Here I come."

I slid my cock into Linda's dripping snatch. She cried out in pleasure.

I pulled out, and did the same to Mimi, then Julie. I moved around, fucking each in turn, one stroke at a time.

I soon got tired, and thrust into each girl twice, before moving on.

All three of them pled with me not to tease, and stay inside them. But my attentions were sufficient that each girl came at least once before I did in Mimi, by chance.