Incredible Changes - Cover

Incredible Changes

Copyright© 2013 by Dead Writer

Chapter 547: Do I Have A Therapy Degree Too?

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 547: Do I Have A Therapy Degree Too? - David is a apathetic eighth grader who has a very dramatic experience with nature that forever changes his outlook on life and guides his future.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Safe Sex  

What kind of therapy am I providing here?

I rubbed the girl’s back and butt, though I didn’t stop her when her hips started moving. Her orgasm hit her like an unseen two-by-four, knocking a villain off a speeding motorcycle in a bad b move. It lasted close to ten minutes before she started to come down, but involuntary twitches of her hips fast-tracked her up and over O-mountain again. She had a ten-plus minute second cum. Cindy did stop getting off, but only because she had to wait for her orgasm energy to build back up to full again. When she came the third time, Cindy moaned and started tongue-kissing me. Around sixteen minutes later, her body didn’t have anything left to use to cum or sit upright.

When she got her breath back, she asked, “Why didn’t you stop me? Girls can’t have pleasure during sex. Only the male gets to feel good for the purpose of procreation. How come you aren’t putting it in me or trying to get it in me? The doctors said it would fit when they checked me inside. I only look tiny down there, but I’m as big inside as my sister.”

“Cindy, you may be big enough to be with a boy or man, but I’m not going to let you push me inside you because you’re not at least sixteen. It has nothing to do with you as a person,” I explained.

“That didn’t stop the others,” Cindy said, realizing she said it aloud.

She was back to crying against my chest. When she stopped, I got us out of the tub, dried, and over on a chaise lounge on top of my legs as she had been in the tub. I let her grind against my dick to get herself off and suck the cum out of my dick as much as she wanted. Cindy eventually got to where she didn’t want to cum anymore, for now, and couldn’t suck me to completion again.

I woke to my dick in a scorching hot pussy as I started to cum. Of course, I would have gotten instantly angry if I didn’t have Cindy’s butt in my right hand and her tits against my chest. I did get pissed off when I saw it was her older sister with my dick inside her.

“What the hell are you doing? You almost died yesterday, got a dislocated shoulder, and had surgery.” I yelled at her.

“Blame Cindy!” the girl on my dick said. “All I did was sit there while she rubbed us off to have us come together. I needed it in so many different ways that I never even knew. It isn’t like I’m not protected.”

Cindy helped her big sister off my dick and cleaned us up before having us sit on a couch together. I had Cindy naked in my lap, holding my renewed boner.

She was off somewhere in her head for a while before saying to her sister, “I came to your room one day to show you the bruises from falling off the playhouse and found you with your friend between your legs licking you. I watched as you came and then rubbed her off. A few days later, I came to tell you that I had to come home from the pool because of storms. You were having sex with the boy next door. So, I would go off each day, wait, and come back a little later so I could watch you with the boys and girls. I knew what you were doing and that it made you both feel good, or you wouldn’t do it. Rubbing myself didn’t do anything for me, so I just watched you feel good because you’re my sister, and I love you. Then one day, I reached down, which did something for me. Mom’s boyfriend caught me rubbing myself when he came to tell us it was dinner time. He got mad but didn’t tell mom about me, but I had to go to his house the next day to talk about what I had done.”

Cindy explained how her mom’s boyfriend spent the next day preaching to Cindy about her sins against God. He took her to some church, pushing religion to fanaticism. The guy meant well and tried to keep Cindy from going down the same path her mother had gotten on and ended up pregnant at twelve. They were close until he got transferred to somewhere in Asia by his father. His dad owned the company. The guy never touched her inappropriately nor made her feel guilty about her natural impulses.

Cindy continued going to the church when the guy left because she liked going there as often as possible. After a few weeks, the deacon of some form noticed she was there alone and asked why. When she explained, he told her that they would stone her for touching herself or having thoughts about sex with anyone in earlier times. He took her to a group of men running the church. That is where things went sideways. They explained that she needed to seek God’s forgiveness for her evil thoughts and behaviors. Penance was their way.

It started small by saying hundreds of prayers for forgiveness and moved on to physical self-punishment. A few cretins in the group used her willingness to seek forgiveness as a reason to molest the girl. They told her it was all to help her control her sexual urges, as those urges were an abomination in the eyes of God. Only whores had those urges, and the devil let the whores feel pleasure during sex.

I saw the look on Cindy’s face when she said, “Some of what they did with me I secretly loved, and thus had to punish myself harder as my penance. One wanted to fuck my ass, which I knew was against God’s wishes. He tried to tell me that God gave him the authority to do that to me and other bullshit. When I screamed and ran off, he grabbed me and did it anyway. I told mom, and she enrolled me in the martial arts school. It was more to help me control my need to punish myself for anything that might even be a sinful thought than it was to be able to defend myself against men like the one that raped my ass. I liked that a lot, though. Police tried to go after the people in that church, but everyone vanished. I am going to a Catholic church now.”

Her big sister looked down and started to cry. She had no idea what was going on with her little sister. Some guys or girls saw her little sister watching them have sex, so they hammed it up as they watched Cindy’s reaction.

All her big sister knew was that Cindy stopped popping in after her mom’s boyfriend started taking Cindy to his church. She didn’t even know that her sister was whipping herself because Cindy didn’t show her big sister since it wasn’t a bruise.

“I had to get them to bring my sister over because I had to get you off inside my pussy, but since you won’t do that with me, I got you off inside her,” Cindy said. “The head doctors were right about you, David. You didn’t do anything sexual to me or with me, but let me do as much as you would allow me to do with you. I was almost to my first cum when he walked in on me. He told me I could finish, but the mood was gone. I never knew a girl or woman could cum for more than a few seconds, but I went on for much longer. The second time I looked at the clock right before it happened and then after. It was over ten minutes.”

Her big sister did want me to fuck her until she came from sex, as it was something she had tried to get to happen, but it never did. We got her on top of pillows, and Cindy helped keep her sister from moving too much.

It doesn’t matter because I will keep tripping both of your cum triggers.

We got some food and then took a nap.

Cindy’s big sister was gone when I woke up, but a woman I hadn’t met before was sitting in a chair waiting for me to awaken.

“Sorry to arrive uninvited, but I felt I owed it to Cindy,” Cindy’s mom said. “My parents never told anyone about Cindy being born three months early, seven months after I had her sister. She was in the NICU for six months after that but still only looked like a newborn when I took her home. Her sister is almost seventeen, and Cindy is sixteen, even if she looks younger. Your staff said you would fully understand the reasoning. You have to check with them to confirm what I’m saying, as I wouldn’t believe myself if I were a wealthy adult male and a girl’s hard-working single mom told me her daughter was legal. Even if I hadn’t told you, she is fourteen as far as her school records go. That is the age of consent in Hawaii to have sex with an adult five or fewer years older. Her being sixteen makes that a non-issue and meets your age criteria. You’ve shown her more kindness than any male she’s ever met, and she needs to see that sex is a joyous, pleasurable thing, not something full of shame. Her sister takes after the women on my father’s side of the family, and Cindy takes after mine. I hit puberty at nine. By ten years old, I was playing house with the neighborhood boys. I was pregnant three times before staying pregnant for more than a few months. I never knew it wasn’t normal for a girl or woman to have orgasms that lasted five minutes or longer until my mom asked why I couldn’t keep my legs together. We never had that mother-daughter about me becoming a woman. I was three months pregnant with my first child when she thought I needed it. The discussion about long cums was eye-opening, to say the least.”

Why didn’t medical know this or at least tell me?

They found that they didn’t know because Cindy looked like she was the age on the birth certificate they had on record from the school and in the medical records from Cindy’s pediatrician. They confirmed what her mom said when they ran Cindy’s DNA, did a deep dive into the hospital records databases, and dug into the insurance records for the paid bills.

Cindy was getting another medical workup given the new information about being older than she appeared on paper or physically. They found that to keep up appearances, Cindy’s endocrinologist worked with a nutritionist to add something to Cindy’s diet that didn’t exactly stop puberty but slowed it way down for a few years. It was something from some remote part of Asia.

That is what kept those men molesting her at that fringe church from being able to screw her.

“She won’t be back until this evening, and it has been a long time since I’ve had sex. The boyfriend Cindy mentioned wasn’t interested in sex until after marriage. We slept in the same bed and cuddled but had no sex. He is a good man with honorable intentions and didn’t know those he entrusted Cindy’s spiritual wellbeing didn’t follow what they preached,” Cindy’s mom told me. “Cindy was an emergency c-section. I needed an emergency hysterectomy, so no more children, no matter how much I loved making my babies. So, I stopped having sex after that. The last time I had sex was the night of my senior prom. He was a random guy from my high school that was a decent enough guy. We had a hotel room and went at it like rabbits most of the night until he ran out of rubbers. I was enjoying it and didn’t care anyway. It hit me hard when he said he hoped I didn’t get pregnant and that he wouldn’t marry me if I had. Cindy needed a lot of help, so I focused on the girls when I wasn’t working. It took this accident to pull my head out of my ass and realize that I hadn’t done all that well with my girls. I can’t believe I didn’t know about Cindy’s ordeals until she came to me because the guy raped her ass. She said you helped her so much that I should see if you can give me at least a quickie. I need to get back to living my life.”

That depends on how you define quickie here. Is this a quickie for you or me?

For her, it seems.

Since she didn’t squeeze down too tightly when she came, I kept pounding away as she had long orgasm after long orgasm. After about twenty minutes, I pulled out, and she fell asleep.

Cindy came outside where I was showering.

“I didn’t expect mom to beat me to your dick. She never told me anything about being born premature, and I still have to find out why. It makes no sense to me,” Cindy said. “Can you take me somewhere away from here for a belated sweet sixteen dinner? Someone is getting to be my first tonight, and I want it to be you if you don’t think mom is lying just to trick you into having sex with me for some reason. I’m still sore from the exam, but they said my ovaries and uterus haven’t developed enough for me to worry about getting pregnant, which is a plus.”

Do you want a sweet-sixteen dinner? I can do that. Do you mind having your legs waxed to wear the outfit I’m going to have them put on you?

There was a restaurant not too far from here that I didn’t own but on the list of places for wealthy people below the elites to eat. I picked it because it wasn’t a place where Cindy was likely to see any of her friends for them to ask why she was there. The place required reservations years out, and no one could walk in to get a table. A quick check confirmed that Elena’s dad didn’t own it either.

It doesn’t take much to make me look like a billion dollars. I found I have closets full of suits, shirts, and dinner jackets considered formal for meetings with elite families. Today wasn’t one of those occasions, so I picked out something acceptable for casual elite family dining. It cost more than most people dining at the restaurant tonight could make in ten years. Cindy wore an expensive designer pink dress with a design made from small pink and red diamonds. Around her neck was a forty-karat red diamond surrounded by ten-karat rose diamonds. Her earrings were flawless, with three karat orange diamonds.

The butler at my mansion decided that while my Pininfarina Battista would make a statement, the Aston Martin Valkyrie would make an announcement. There are only a few in the world, and I had one. None of those who come here to eat can even hope to touch one, much less buy one.

My butler told me that I could have any car I wanted, and someone would fly it anywhere in the world I wanted it.

I have proof that she is sixteen, even if someone could think she is younger from how much older the staff here made her look in that dress.

When I drove up, I saw the eyes of the people waiting for their tables popping wide open. Seeing my suit may not have impressed them, but Cindy’s dress and jewelry got their attention.

“Table for two, please,” I said, walking up to the maître de.

Snort and comment all you want. The joke is on you.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said politely. “We require a reservation. We will be pleased to serve you in three years if you reserve a table now. I wish I could be of more assistance in this matter, sir. Good day.”

“Sorry, Cindy. It looks like we will need to eat somewhere more expensive. I wanted to try someone else’s restaurants to see how they compare to my friend Elena’s father’s restaurants or mine. I could buy this place, but what is the point?” I asked her as we walked to the valet stand to wait on my car.

A man in a suit one-tenth of my cost rushed over to us and asked if we would return inside.

The lobby and bar went silent as we returned.

The man, who turned out to be the owner that was both reclusive and eccentric, said, “Mr. Jones. My apologies. Please, give me a few moments to adjust our seating arrangements.”

“I can’t do that to these people who have waited years to eat here. I wouldn’t want anyone doing that to a customer in my restaurants,” I explained.

“It is an honor that you chose us for dining this evening. I want you to have the chance to enjoy my head chef’s creations,” he explained as he tried to find us a table.

He started getting frustrated at how the reservation system wouldn’t allow him to change anything. After getting the manager to try, he was furious.

I put a hand on his arm and asked, “Do you have a table back in the kitchen where we can eat? We don’t mind. I would eat with the staff at my resorts for all my meals if the cooks didn’t ban me from their kitchens for washing dishes, and this evening out is a special night for my friend, so no dishes for me tonight.”

“One of the richest men in the world, if not the richest, wants to eat in the breakroom with my staff? For what you paid for the rock around your friend’s neck, you could buy this building and have money left over to gut and fully renovate it,” he said loud enough for those listening to the conversation. “If only you were dining here, I wouldn’t give it a second thought, but this beautiful woman will not eat in my kitchen. That is unacceptable.”

A man in his thirties came over and said, “We have a reservation for a party of ten, but two are unable to join us this evening. If you wouldn’t mind joining us, I believe that would address the current dilemma.”

“Cindy, this is your night. Do you mind sharing their table?” I asked her, shocking a subset of the people listening in.

She replied, “I don’t want someone else getting bumped from a table so that we can eat here. If they seriously don’t mind us sitting at their table, I would be honored to share their table.”

That resolved the issue, and we were promptly seated.

I should have looked at the menu or pictures of meals here.

While the food was excellent, my siblings would still be hungry after eating the meal served here. I didn’t get why people would pay this kind of money and wait for years to eat here. We got five leaves of something, a drop of some sort of dressing, and hair-thin shaved carrots that they called a salad. Our soup was three spoonfuls of something I couldn’t quite identify, even if it tasted great. Dinner consisted of what I guessed to be maybe an ounce of meat, a few long green beans, and some form of another vegetable, all artistically arranged on the plate.

I excused myself to find the manager. He looked like he was going to shit in his pants.

“I eat ten-pound sushi challenge rolls for an appetizer, and my four-year-old twin siblings would still be hungry after that dinner,” I said as he began to sweat. “People who come to these places do it to be seen, not to eat. I did it to take my friend out for a special dinner as a belated birthday celebration. She wouldn’t get to come here, ever, otherwise. That said, a thousand dollars a plate for two dollars’ worth of food is a bit crazy. These people gladly thumbed their noses at me when I came in and got refused a table. So, here is what I want to do. Please have all the checks added and brought to me at the table. I want to see the totals per server and bartender so that I can tip accordingly. All I ask is that you allow my friend and me to depart before other guests find out what I did. Don’t tell the servers that I also tipped them, as I want anything they get from the other tables to be on top of what I gave them. I will put a tip in cash on the table before I leave. I don’t think you will pull this crap, but I better not find out that you took any tips the staff gets tonight.”

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