Approximately 5 months have passed since we returned from our vacation in Hawaii.

I was getting regular reports from the private clinic/hospital on Martha's progress.

I am confident that she is receiving the best of care.

 

The tattoos were removed, as were the scars from the burns and whippings, or at least they were minimized to be barely noticeable.  

While they were married, that sick bastard Frank Abzug broke Martha's nose.    

Her nose has been reshaped by the best plastic surgeons.   

Her deviated septum was also corrected and Martha no longer has to breathe through her mouth.

Arthur tells me that he is amazed at the results 

 

The scum even pulled some of her teeth out... we assume that he did because Martha always had perfect teeth. 

We also suspect this because the teeth around the extracted ones were chipped and damaged. 

Martha's teeth were cleaned, repaired and/or reconstructed to make the most vain Hollywood Diva jealous with envy.

 

Lastly, Martha was given laser surgery to correct her naturally deteriorating eyesight; her eyesight is now 20/30. 

 

Martha's emotional scars are another matter entirely and she is presently receiving counseling.

Arthur hinted about another treatment that it is experimental and cutting edge having to do with biorhythms and subliminal suggestions and such.   

 

This was quite successful with former Grand Mistress Maud, and necessary because of her intimate knowledge of the Sanctorum and its finances.

 

Arthur has also made all of the legal arrangements pertaining to Martha, and with everything Arthur does, they were rock solid and insoluble. 

 

I have Power of Attorney over her affairs and she is now my legal ward.

Martha will be released in my care in approximately three months.

 

Although she is not my slave, Martha has no real say in anything.

I really haven't sorted out my feeling about her yet.... except that I never wanted anything bad to happen to her despite our very acrimonious divorce. 

There is a lingering feeling left from her betrayal ... I must learn put this aside. 

 

At one Saturday meeting, I explained to my girls that in my book Martha would be starting with a clean page.

"Martha's abuse at the hands of that monster, Abzug was punishment enough, ladies.

Martha will be staying here on temporary basics until we decide if she is suited to our lifestyle."

 

"What do you mean by we, Michael?"

Mandy asked.

 

"We are a family my dear ladies...................................." I said standing up and smiling at her.

I then walked over to each of my girls, kissing them lightly on the mouth and gently touching their faces, feeling very content and happy.

I was thinking; "Yes, life is definitely good."

 

"As I have said many time before, we are a non-conventional family, but a family, nevertheless.  

I want input from each of you because you will be living with and working with her.

She may not be compatible for our household or our lifestyle, in which case I will find other living quarters for Martha.

Perhaps I will build a small log cabin in the woods behind our house or set her up in an apartment in town.  

If I decide on the log cabin, it will be a modern one with electricity and other amenities not the primitive kind."

 

All of my girls consider and refer to my house, (my name is on the title) as our house or their home. 

They take great pride in seeing that our home is neat, clean and absolutely spotless, especially Sarah and Minerva, they being my house slaves.

 

Our kitchen and our bathrooms are a standard of clean to which many hospitals can only hope to emulate.

Therefore, I allow Sarah and Minerva great latitude in how the house is decorated.

For example: the color schemes/decor for paint and fabrics, for choosing the oriental rugs, bedding, drapes, bath towels and sheets, or curtains etc., things of that nature.

 

Our home is bright and airy, full of plants, and always.... always, fresh cut flowers in every room which pleases them greatly.

It is also free of clutter, especially the unnecessary knickknacks and common commercial collectables gathering dust that my ex-wife

was so fond displaying, and hardly ever dusted, that I always loathed and barley tolerated.

 

My library is off limits for their decor venue, (except that I let Minerva choose the oriental carpets) nonetheless they keep it vacuumed, dusted, plus all the paneling and woodwork is meticulously waxed and polished. 

 

"A real log cabin!"

Sarah exclaimed.

"That will be so intimate and so cozy.

We could use it as a guesthouse if things do work out with Martha.

The cabin will be our get away to be alone with you, one at a time of course. 

Yes, that would be so intimate and cozy."

Sarah repeated, crossing her arms and hugging herself.

 

"You should consider a hot tub, Michael.

A hot tub with pulsing water jets would be very therapeutic, especially one deep enough to come up to our necks."

Katherine offered. 

 

"You will put in a fireplace, won't you, Michael?"

Sarah asked, delighted with the prospect of a log cabin.

 

"Yes, a fireplace, what a wonderful idea, Sarah, and Katherine's hot tub idea is great too!"

Mandy exclaimed.

 

"A field stone fireplace and a granite hot tub.

Anything else, ladies?"

I asked.

 

I noticed that Minerva was unusually quiet and thoughtful.

I would speak to her when we were alone, as her experience as a Mistress could prove to be valuable.

 

"I will consider all of your suggestions, ladies, and we will speak of it further.

In the mean time, I suggest that we get dressed so that we may all go out and have brunch together.

Then we will be going for a drive in the country to get apples and fresh apple cider.... we will make it a day and enjoy the fall colors."

 

They dressed casually, each wearing form hugging blue jeans and white Nike walking shoes with pink accents and pink laces.

They all were wearing pale green voile cotton peasant blouses with satiny dark green embroidery on the front, on the sleeves and around the neck. 

The blouse's smocked neckline had a dark green tasseled tie at the center front with matching trailing tassel ties on the three-quarter sleeves; the hem was unadorned.

 

If later in the day the weather turned cooler, they each had a pink front zip hooded sweatshirt.  

I allowed them matching black beaded purses with a narrow shoulder strap.

The purses were just large enough for their makeup, basic Identification and spending money.

The only makeup they were allowed today was eyeliner, mascara and lip-gloss... and of course their signature scents.

 

As I often do, I chose their hairstyles for the day, starting with Sarah.

Sarah's well cared for hair is thick and soft, like a dark brown waterfall, cascading over her shoulders and now flowing to the middle of her back and well on its way to being waist length again.

Her beautiful hair is blunt cut without layers, and she still has the same eye framing bangs.

Today her hair will be parted in the middle and fixed in twin French braids with the ends tied with pink ribbons.

If I decide on a late supper in a restaurant this evening, she will put her hair up in a bun.

 

And then there is my delectable peach, Mandy, so small and petite, barely 100 lbs. soaking wet.

Her rich, honey-blond hair is now almost 4 inches past her shoulders and blunt cut, as is all my girl's hair.

Mandy's will be side parted and fixed in thick and soft twin ponytails, just above and behind her ears and tied with the same pink ribbons.

 

My voluptuous Katherine, whom I still can't best at chess and still delight playing chess with and losing.

For her I have chosen a simple three-strand braid for her light brown hair.

Her light brown hair now is just short of touching her shoulder blades.

And of course her hair will be tied with pink ribbons.

She too, along with Mandy and Sarah, will be mandated to fix their hair in a bun for a possible late supper. 

 

Minerva will not be wearing her red auburn hair in a braid or a bun for it is not quite long enough for a proper one as yet.

It has grown out nicely from that ultra-short layered pixie cut that I had once imposed on her.

Her hair is just past the nape of her neck, being a perfect long bob that is blunt cut without bangs.

 

Mandy fixed Minerva's hair in luscious ringlet curls, and then pulled the curls in front away from Minerva's face.

She gathered the front sections into two small curly ponytails and then tied the ponytails with pink ribbons leaving the bulk of the luscious curls loose for my fingers to fondle.  

 

My girls made their entrances while I was outside hitching our utility trailer to the 3/4-ton Dodge Conversion Van that Mandy normally drives.

Minerva was first, walking up behind me and putting her hands over my eyes. 

I was crouched down securing the safety chains to the hitch and I was pretending not to see her.

 

"Guess who, Michael?"

She teased.

 

"Katherine, I know it is you, you can't fool me."

I answered, standing up and not turning around.

 

"Wrong answer!"

Minerva exclaimed, mussing my hair, playfully.

 

I grabbed her wrist and quickly turned to face her.

I then pulled her close, shifting my hands to the back of her trim waist.

"I'm sorry Shirley Temple, I mistook you for someone else."

 

"Shirley Temple was a blond, Michael."

Minerva said, turning her head so that I couldn't kiss her mouth, and then putting her hands on my chest and pretending to push me away.

 

"That can be arranged.

I will talk to Mandy about it, although I am thinking platinum blond, and your hair will be cut shorter. 

You will be given regular permanents to maintain that look."

I kissed her mouth, enjoying her generous lips.

 

"You wouldn't dare....  I take it back, and stop tickling me."

She said, laughing and squirming, this time really trying to get away.

"I give up, Master, I give up, you are just liable to do it!"

I stopped tickling and kissed her mouth, moving one hand to her head and running my fingers through her red curls.

 

"You look beautiful my love, my marvelous curly redhead. 

Is there something that you want to talk to me about?"

 

"I want to talk to you about Martha as soon as we are alone together."

 

"I thought as much, you were quiet this morning and I want to talk to you as well.

Switch with Sarah and sleep with me tonight and we will talk and cuddle.

She can have your turn tomorrow night."

 

I kissed her again and then helped her into the van waiting for my other ladies.

 

Next was my pretty girl, Sarah, whom simply put her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately.

I put my arms around her waist and returned her kisses, enjoying her sweet lips and vanilla scent.

"Do you like my hair, Michael?"

 

"I love your hair and everything about you, my little lady.

I would ask you a favor; I want you to switch with Minerva.

I promise you and we will do something special for your thoughtfulness."

 

"What are we going to do, Michael?"

She asked, kissing me again just as passionately.

 

"I not sure yet, but I'll think of something, and it may be when you least expect it."

I answered, tugging her long braids and then helping her into the van.

 

Katherine and Mandy came out together, as they often do, and looking as lovely as always.

They tend to pair off naturally, much like Sarah and Minerva do now.

Mandy was carrying an insulated cooler full of frozen bottled water.

 

Katherine was carrying a medium sized square duffle containing an extensive field first-aid medical kit.

She is currently a Physician's Assistant, and an excellent one at that.

I'm considering sending her to medical school to become a full pledged doctor.

 

Although a slave, Katherine has a brilliant, analytical mind and has a gift for medicine.

I am more then willing to open and fund a clinic for her.

Katherine's bedside manner and compassion for Martha was very impressive.

She even treated that offal scum, Frank Abzug, efficiently and professionally, although in his case, coldly and dispassionately.

 

I received my hugs and kisses from Mandy and Katherine, after complimenting them on how nice that they looked.

Then I helped them into the van and we were soon on our way. 

 

We had a pleasant brunch planning the log cabin and then a wonderful afternoon picking apples and kissing under the trees. 

We went to 3 different farm orchards and picked 9 bushels total: Empires, Honeycrisps, Braeburns, Cortlands and McIntosh, plus Idareds, Crispins, Jonagolds and Fuji apples.

 

We stopped at a large outdoor farmers market for fresh garlic, bushels of eggplant, tomatoes, hot & sweet peppers and/or any other fresh produce that struck our fancy. 

Sarah and Minerva would be freezing and canning starting Monday. 

 

At one point in the afternoon, Sarah and I were alone walking side-by-side, browsing, after just purchasing dried lavender to put in our linen closets and dresser drawers.  

I had my arms around her waist and Sarah was eating an Italian Ice.

The other girls were back at the van getting ready for dinner at the Black North Inn.

The Inn is located at the end of Route 98 North at the mouth of the Oak Orchard River where the river empties into Lake Ontario.

 

While we were browsing, we came across the booth of the young married couple that owned and operated the floral shop where I purchase my flowers.

Toby & Mary McAllister are good, solid people who have worked hard to make their business a success and I admire them for that. 

They both put in long hours and Toby does this large Farmer's Market in the late summer and early fall while Mary stays in the shop.

 

Toby's ride was parked behind his booth, a full dressed, black, 1999 Honda GL 1500 SE Gold Wing Touring Bike.

This gave me an idea.

Even though I have not ridden in years, I still have my motorcycle license.

 

I walked up and shook Toby's hand in greeting and Sarah politely greeted him as well.

She then stood next to me holding my arm and patiently waited while I talked with him.

 

"Toby, how would you like to make one thousand dollars this weekend for just sitting home on Sunday?"

I asked, laying ten one hundred dollar bills on the table between us.

 

"That would be wonderful, what do you have in mind?"

He answered, but not picking up the bills, his interest obvious from the momentary surprised look on his face, but caution prevailed

and he waited to hear my proposal before he accepted the money. 

 

"I want to rent your scoot for the rest of the weekend.

I will pay to have it fully serviced and detailed at the Honda dealer when I am done.

I doubt that I will put more then 150 miles on it, but if I do I will pay you ten dollars a mile for very mile over 150."

 

We consummated our agreement with a handshake.

Sarah tried on his wife's leather jacket that was stored in the one of the saddlebags.

I suspected that it would fit since Mary was slightly larger then Sarah and Mary's helmet fit my pretty girl as well.

 

As for myself, I left the house in blue jeans, a, long sleeved white silk shirt (a gift from my ladies) and a well-worn and comfortable dark brown goatskin A-2 Bomber jacket.

 

I also had on my scuffed but polished, and very comfortable black steel toe engineer boots. 

I wear them for safety reasons when cutting and splitting wood. 

Mark's helmet fit me perfectly, so that base was covered as well, perfect.   

 

Sarah was a little nervous when she first got on the bike behind me. 

I drove slowly behind the various vender booths until I got to the van.

Mandy and Katherine had their hair pinned up in pretty buns and were looking forward to going out to dinner.

My girls surrounded Sarah and I wanting to know where I got the ride, all of them talking at once.

 

I promised Minerva a ride home and Mandy would get her chance tomorrow.

Katherine declined my offer saying that she had no use for motorcycles, which brought on some good-natured teasing.

I was not about to force her. 

I had... shall we say, two other potential biker chicks waiting to ride with me?

 

I told the girls to bring our purchases home, unhitch the trailer and then meet us for dinner in two hours.

I took Sarah's hair out of her braids, letting her long brown hair spill down to the middle of her back on the borrowed leather jacket.

I tied the two pink ribbons together and put them in my jacket pocket.

 

In order to get the feel of the bike, I started out at slow to moderate speeds. 

This was a serious machine, with a four stroke, 6-cylinder boxer/1520 ccm. (92.75 cubic inch) displacement and a 5 speed

gearbox.

With a top speed of 118 mph (180.0 km/h), if you will pardon the expression, this bitch could hall ass.

 

I rode a beat-up moped while in college, until I sold my first patent to IBM.

They wanted to keep my motherboard out of the market for the next ten years or until the competition came up with one similar.

This gave me my seed money to incorporate and start my own business with just one employee... me.

 

In celebration, I purchased a trashed 1965 Harley panhead and completely restored it to almost showroom condition, except for adding a suicide throttle.

 

I rode with a very rough crowd in those days, drinking and getting into fights, sometimes just for the sake of fighting.

Not that I was a hardcore biker, but I liked the unfettered freedom that it afforded me, and the women.

In the beginning, many of the fights were because word got out that I was somewhat of an intellectual, and heaven forbid, liked poetry.

 

There is a price to pay for everything, I won some and lost some, and have the scars to prove it.

 

I never looked for trouble; however, I never backed down when trouble found me.

I was grudgingly tolerated, and mostly was left alone, but never really accepted, however I was allowed at all open meets.

Actually, I was somewhat of a novelty to them. 

 

I charmed many of the biker chicks over with poetry or Shakespeare: Romeo & Juliet was a favorite.    

It was said that "Shakespeare" (me) was OK to party with because he minded his own business and kept his mouth shut and was a pretty good crank (mechanic) with a wrench... and he just might bash you with it.

 

That was my nickname, my handle in those wild days.

I sold my panhead to Snake, during the third year of my marriage, my interests were changing and I did not want Martha or my child exposed to this crude and rough lifestyle. 

This was the year that Martha was carrying my son.

 

Snake was the closest thing to a friend that I had with the bikers, and he was one scary son of a bitch.

The man could look at you with his cold expressionless eyes, snake eyes, and back most men down with his frigid stare alone.

I took his back in a fast food restaurant parking late one night against 6 drunken jocks, football players looking for trouble.

 

At that time, I knew of him, but never met him.

 

As I said, Snake was a loner and one crazy son of a bitch; even the bikers were afraid of him, and for those people, that was saying something.

 

He was down on the ground and they were stomping the hell out of him, although he did manage to bite a pretty big chuck out of one jocks legs while down there.

I set one of the jock's cars on fire as a distraction and managed to knock one of them out, and rupture another's testicles, giving Snake a chance to get on his feet to fight.

 

In all the confusion, I grabbed Snake and got him the hell out of there before the police and firemen arrived.

The fight was mostly out of the jocks by now; all we got was mouth from them at that juncture, but not Snake, who could barely stand.

They made no attempt to stop us or follow us, at least not on foot... and the car was engulfed in flames by then.... but I digress, back to my pretty girl.

 

Sarah was glued to my back with her arms around my waist and holding on tight.

She was also urging me to go faster and was laughing with delight along with the music from the pipes.

When I hit a 3-mile straightaway, I opened the throttle all the way.

The vibration of that powerful engine between my legs, coupled with a beautiful woman behind me.... a beautiful and loving woman with her long hair streaming behind her in the rushing wind, gave me a rock hard erection.

 

I had plans for us and intended to make a detour and stop at the Hamlin Beach State Park to get into my pretty girl's pants.

Her initial fear was now over and Sarah was exhilarated with this new experience.

 

Sarah was getting turned on by the speed and was trying to put her hand down into the front of my jeans.

If only this horse was equipped with a suicide throttle.

No doubt, for Sarah the bike was a 100 horsepower vibrator at 5200 RPM, stimulating her sweet clitoris.

 

When we arrived at Hamlin I paid the entrance fee, declining the complimentary map, as I knew all the parks along the lake like the back of my hand.

 

We drove around a bit checking things out; Sarah has been here often with me, particularly before I acquired my three other ladies.

Aside from a few late season fishermen, and a smattering of campers, we pretty much had the place to ourselves.

I went to a secluded stones pavilion in an isolated corner and drove the bike inside parking on the concrete floor.

Before I could get my helmet off, Sarah had already taken off hers and was all over me.

 

Sarah was kissing my mouth hungrily, her little tongue seeking mine.

I could smell the musky sweetness of her arousal before I reached down to touch her crotch through her snug, damp blue jeans.

I took Sarah's head in my hands, burying my hands in her long soft hair, and returned her kisses, while enjoying her sweet mouth and welcoming her little tongue with mine.

 

"Please, Michael."

She begged, while rubbing my face with her hand.

"I am so horny.

I want you to make love to me right on the bike."

 

I took off my blue jeans and got on, while telling her to remove hers.

Sarah's panties were wet from her sweet juices and before she could get them off, I took her panties in both hands, and ripped them from her making her gasp in surprise and then smile.

 

I reached up underneath her blouse and unhooked her bra so that I could get at her marvelous, firm, round breasts.

Sarah's nipples were already hard and I cupped her breasts, squeezing.

I stroked her hard nipples with my thumbs, making her moan with pleasure.

Sarah has such wonderfully sensitive nipples.

 

I stroked her dripping vagina, feeling her wet swollen pussy, sending a shiver through her body.

I then pulled up her blouse to lick and suck on her proud hard nipples, while continuing to stroke her musky fragrant flower.

 

Sarah's head was tilted back, her eyes were closed, and I watched tip of her little tongue tease her lips and teeth, waiting for my cock to arrive.

I kissed the base of her throat, while caressing her breasts... teasing... and then I kissed her face and behind her ears, her vanilla scent mingling with the rich musky woman's scent of her arousal.

 

I got back up on the seat and had my little princess straddle the gas tank in a sitting position facing me with her feet on the pegs.

I picked her up and placed her on my rock hard manhood with my hands under her ass cheeks.

 

Sarah's arms were around my neck while she was impaling her sweet cunt, up and down, up and down on my manhood, pushing her feet against the rear pegs for leverage, as I was using the front ones for the same, matching her rhythm, and supporting her bottom to keep her from sliding off.

 

I was watching my sweet chattel, her head thrown back in ecstasy and exposing her long vulnerable neck for me to kiss.

Sarah's long hair was bouncing and swaying with our movements on the smooth surface of her leather jacket.

Her eyes were clenched tight, and her little tongue was darting in and out between her teeth and lips.

She was moaning, softly and wanting to scream, so shamelessly and selflessly intent on pleasing herself.

 

This is something I find so endearing when making love to her. 

As a person, and by nature, Sarah is sweet and generous, modest and kind.

My love for her is equal too my love for Minerva.

My Marvelous Minerva, whom I have known and loved the longest and was to pig-headed to tell her when she was a Mistress.

 

I love Mandy and Katherine in different ways, but not with the same depth of passion that I feel for Sarah and Minerva.

In the Sanctorum, a man is free to pursue his instinctual drives, in regard to sex and women.

I can't put it into words.... I just know how I feel...

 

"Oh Master."

She moaned, softly.

"My god it feels so good.....mmmm....suck on my nipples, Michael....yessss........ I love you so much.

 

Sarah came in waves, her orgasm washing over me as it crested. 

I had to cover her mouth with my hand to muffle her screams of pleasure.

She was bucking and squirming in shear orgasmic desperation.

 

I grabbed hold of her long hair, still holding her bottom with one hand as she rode me to keep her from falling off the bike.

This intensified her wild orgasmic pleasure even more; so oblivious to everything was she except her throbbing clitoris.

The pulling of her hair was arousing her even more if possible, and making her muffled orgasmic screams louder.

 

After she came, Sarah collapsed in my arms, red in the face and embarrassed at screaming like that in public.

I held her and stroked her hair, curling my finger around one long tress.

 

"You are such a horny little thing, my pretty girl.

Thank you for switching with Minerva." 

 

"Do you love me, Michael?"

She asked, touching my face... this was the first time that Sarah had ever asked me this.

"I know you love Minerva, we talk about you.... Minerva says that you do.

She also told me that you love me as much as her, perhaps more, and that she was jealous of me once."

 

"I love her like a sister, Michael, and sometimes we know what each other are thinking.

I have three older brothers whom believe that women and children should be seen and not heard." (It should be noted that Sarah's

parents are both deceased, an important reason why I chose her)

 

"You are the first man who ever really talked to me and cared about my opinions because my brother's certainly didn't. 

I so enjoy discussing with you the books that you taught me to love, and the music and the flowers and everything.

Do you remember when it was just you and I, before Minerva's Tribunal and you introduced me to Shakespeare?

When sat on the floor in front of our fireplace, sharing a bottle of ice wine to get warm?" 

 

"Of course I remember.

We were snowed in and the roads were closed.

As I recall, you were disappointed that we couldn't go out and buy the lights your first Christmas Tree.

We froze that afternoon cutting it down, our first tree together and then dragging it home."

I replied, smiling and remembering that day, how she felt and how she smelled.

 

"You started with Hamlet, Act 2., Scene 2".

She continued.

"We were to take turns reading, and you started first, supposedly opening the book at random and starting to read.

"Doubt thou the stars are fire! Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love."

Then you cleared your throat and took a sip of wine and started at the beginning of the play." 

 

"Do you remember afterwards.... you just held me.... nothing else.... and we fell asleep on the floor in front of the fire."

 

"I remember, Sarah"

 

"I'm not asking you to play favorites, because I know that you can't, but do you love me as much as Minerva?" 

Sarah asked, putting her head on my shoulder. 

 

"As a Master, you have put me in a precarious situation by asking such a question; discipline, order and harmony must be maintained.

If I were I were a father with 2 daughters and I was asked such a question I would answer that I loved them both the same, and that would suffice.

This situation is much more complicated and certainly more delicate in nature.

There is no past wisdom to fall back on, not even in Shakespeare." 

 

"Therefore, until a precedent is set, my best course of action to honestly answer your question would be a conscious between you and Minerva and a mandate for you and Minerva never to discuss this fact with Katherine or Mandy.

That would be the correct answer.... that, and for you to follow your heart."

I said, trying not to grin, being pleased with my clever answer. 

 

"Minerva is right, Michael, you can be so damn smug and deliberately evasive and obtuse at times.

 

"As a Master of the Sanctorum, I am well within my rights to take the belt to you for such impertinence, Sarah my love."

I told her while getting off the bike and putting my jeans and boots on, taking off my belt and folding it.

I then snapped the belt with a sharp crack.

 

"You won't beat me, Master, that is not your way."

She replied, offering me her hand to help her down from the bike, which I did, and then she mussed my hair and kissed my mouth.

"I just wanted to hear you say it again in your own round about way, just as you did that night in front of the fire."

Sarah announced, and then turned her back to me, adjusting her bra and blouse and then putting on her jeans.

 

I stood there with my arms folded watching her dress.

When she bent over to tie the pink laces on her sneakers, I slapped her ass with my hand making her jump and stand quickly

to face me.

 

"Now who is being smug?"

I asked, watching her rub her smarting bottom and smile at me.

 

"I was Michael, I mean Master."

 

"Come her, Princess."

I ordered.

 

Sarah quickly complied and stood in front of me.

 

"Put your arms around my neck, slave."

 

She complied and was smiling as I put my arms around her waist and pulled her close.

"Do you have any Hershey Kisses for me, Master?"

 

"Don't change the subject, I'm still annoyed with your impertinence."

I kissed her saucy mouth, and then whispered in her ear.

"Who am I, my pretty and saucy girl?" 

 

"You are my Master and you love me."

She whispered, putting her head on my shoulder again.

"And you are my Michael, and I love you."

 

"What you say is true, I do love you, and not just as my slave, but as a person, that person being.... Sarah."

I whispered and I continued whispering and stroking her hair.

"You both have come a long way, you and Minerva, and your affection for one another compliments you both.

It is a special and unique thing that we have three have, Sarah, or for that matter the five of us.

For love humbles the Master or Mistress as well as the slave, the man, Michael and the women, be they Sarah or Minerva.

Love transcends the flesh... in love we remain spiritual equals." 

 

"Now my dear, you know what to do.

Let's put your saucy, impertinent little mouth to another good use."

I took the pink ribbon out of my pocket.

 

"Turn around and cross your wrists, my love."

I tied her wrists together with the ribbon.

Then I took off my jacket and folded it for her to kneel on.

 

Sarah knelt down on my jacket and I unbuttoned my fly and I took my manhood out for her to suck on.

I gathered her hair in a ponytail to keep it out of her face, her long hair my love reins to control her during the oral pleasuring.

Sarah was all smiles and looking up at me.

She started by kissing and licking the tip, her little tongue fluttering around it and her moist lips, caressing and teasing.

 

Finally my pretty girl took my entire cock in her mouth, licking and sucking as I had taught her, it now being second nature to her,

knowing and sensing when my orgasms were about to crest and swallowing everything when I exploded in her mouth.

When she finished, I untied her.

Sarah brushed her hair and then we were on our way to the Black North.

 

We arrived ten minutes ahead of my ladies and it was well past the dinner rush.

I requested a table on the screened in porch overlooking the water to watch the boats come and go.

Sarah went into the ladies room to put it up her hair into a nice bun and to check her makeup. 

When they arrived, the hostess escorted my ladies to the table and I got up from my chair to greet them.

 

They stood in the isle adjacent to the table, and one by one, I took their arms and then escorted them to their seats, pulling their chair out for them to sit down.

I did the same for Sarah when she arrived from the ladies room. 

 

We enjoyed a nice dinner together, ordering the Cajon broiled catfish with salt potatoes, an outstanding coleslaw, tangy with just a hint of horseradish, and then coffee, cheddar cheese with homemade apple pie, that was good, and that we all agreed couldn't, hold a candle to Sarah's. 

Before we left, my girls went to the ladies room. 

 

Afterwards we planned to meet at the end of breakwater to enjoy the view.

All my girls came out to wait with me except for Mandy, who seemed to be taking longer then usual.

Concerned, I went back inside to check on her.

The restrooms are located on the east side of the building in a corner near the bar.

In order to get to the rest rooms one must walk past the bar to get to them. 

 

There were three men standing in front of her, blocking Mandy's path and trying to prevent her from leaving.

The one blocking her access to the ladies room to keep her from going back inside was grabbing his crotch, pushing his cheek out with his tongue and licking his lips, the obscene inference most obvious.

They were laughing, and trying to get her to drink with them, telling her to dump the faggot on the rice burner (meaning me) and ride with some real men, meaning them.

 

I refer to them as weekend bikers, they being upper middle class to wealthy and riding expensive Harleys while pretending to be hardcore bikers on the fringe of society.

Weekend warriors if you will, right down to their new unmarked leathers and two wearing lace-up knee high boots. 

One of the idiot clowns had a Chicago Police Department uniform patch sewn upside down on his new leather jacket.

This made him a target for the police to stop and investigate, the inference being that he "snuffed" (killed) a policeman or Corrections Officer.

 

This would make him even a bigger target with the real deal, particularly with a Hells Angel, whom would promptly kill him just out of general principles.... if he were that lucky. 

At least Snake would give him a chance to be a bitch and remove it, and then walk away, naked, his hog (Harley) being forfeit, if not.....................

 

The largest of the clowns, the one with the patch; also the biggest idiot of the gaggle was wearing spurs... spurs, can you believe that? 

All three had bandanas tied on their heads to hide their hundred dollar plus haircuts, or trendy shaved heads, and one of the clowns was wearing wrist length black gloves with small pointed studs sewn into the knuckles to hide his manicured nails, while two of the three were wearing dark wrap around designer sunglasses, indoors. 

 

No doubt, they would not know how to check the oil on their scoots, let alone change it, disdaining to get their hands dirty.

I saw these clowns dismount their ostentatious and ridiculous chrome accessorized motorcycles when they pulled into the parking lot.

I was thinking at the time that the bikes were much like pretty women with big hair and wearing too much makeup, making them look cheap and trashy. 

 

I put my arm around Mandy's shoulder, as she was sitting closest to me and gave her a little hug because my ladies were none of those things and my little peach rewarded me with a thoughtful smile. 

 

I learned my lesson with my confrontation with Abzug; I wasn't as young as I used to be, or as fast.

I was carrying my new taser, having made some modifications and improvements to the old model.

I boosted the voltage up to 2.5 million volts and substituted the 9-volt alkaline battery with a small rechargeable 36-volt lithium ion/ tritium battery with an imbedded microchip of my design that is currently in use by the Mossad in their ultra-compact night vision goggles.   

 

In consideration for this technology, they have provided me with a generous supply of a ceramic/ metal composite with almost

non-existent impedance properties that I fashioned into the electrodes for the new taser.

The advantage to the new model is that I do not have to makes direct contact with a person.

Just a 1-inch gap or closer is all that is necessary to achieve the needed full effect.

 

I am presently incorporating parts this new technology into a ladies compacts for my girls, waiting for the titanium cases to be machined.

I will insert the titanium cases inside the ordinary plastic ones that can be bought anywhere makeup is sold.

They will be small and inconspicuous.

They will function like a true ladies compact as well, but with electrifying results....  if you will... no....  please excuse my bad pun.

 

I walked towards them and they turned to confront me.

The biggest of the clowns was in front, he being the one with the spurs. 

He was making kissing sounds and sneering; for identification purposes, I will call him clown number one.

I was watching his eyes, and as he led off with his left foot, he spun around and tried to kick me with his right, to slash or impale me with the sharpened spurs.

 

Being marginally familiar with the martial arts, most likely what he saw on TV or in the theatre and somewhat drunk, he telegraphed his movements, not to mention exposing his back with his clumsy attempt to slash me.

I moved to one side and zapped him with the taser, his fancy, new, leather jacket, embossed with the Harley logo making no difference as the 2.5 million volts entered his central nervous system.

 

The second clown, clown number 2, grabbed his friend to keep him from crashing to the floor, his arms around number one, embracing him as if they were gay clown lovers.

I zapped the now occupied clown number two and they slumped to the floor in each other's arms.... that was funny.

 

This gave Mandy the opportunity to get past clown number three and get behind me.  

Minerva and Sarah rushed over to Mandy hugging her and then stepped in front of Mandy, closing ranks.

I glanced at the bartender, just standing there with his mouth open and his eyes were practically bugging out of his head.

I would deal with him later, and realized at that point Katherine was nowhere to be seen.

This left clown numbers three, the clown wearing the spiked gloves and the ringleader of this gaggle of buffoons, and the one blocking the bathroom.

 

I definitely wanted a piece of this one and I walked towards him smiling and depressing the switch on the taser.

Letting him watch and see what was in store for him as the electricity crackled and arced between the electrodes.

 

"You wouldn't be so tough without that thing!"

He exclaimed with false bravado while looking frantically around.

Then he looked at the bartender, lifting his head slightly while rolling his eyes as if asking for help.

This was a definite tell... I thought as much. 

 

"Perhaps...  or perhaps not, clown."

I replied calmly.

"You have upset and disrespected my lady, and I will have my satisfaction.

Did anyone of these buffoons touch you, or lay hands on you in any manner, Mandy?"

I asked, not taking my eyes off of him and overturning a table, giving me a clear path.

 

"Yes Michael, he grabbed my crotch when I first tried to walk by him; be careful he has spikes on his gloves."

 

"And the others?"

I asked.

 

"They just laughed and made lewd suggestions."

Mandy replied.

 

"I don't know how much you paid that whore to look the other way, or what your agreement was with him."

I said, pointing to the bartender.

 

"Minerva?"

I called, taking off my ring, and handing her the taser and ring as she stood beside.

Minerva put the ring on her thumb, the samarium cobalt magnet contained within the titanium ring necessary to activate the tasers switch.

 

"Keep an eye on the whore behind the bar."

 

I then slowly advanced on him, overturning tables and throwing chairs as he retreated, and projecting my voice as if I were actor upon a stage.

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice, Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth,
With carrion men, groaning for burial."

 

My tempered rage and inspiration; Julius Caesar, Act 3, Scene 1., so much for learning my lesson, even though the clown was younger then me, I still wanted a piece of his ass.

 

Clown number three turned and bolted.

In his panic, he ran into the ladies room by mistake and locked himself in.... tough guy.

 

The two clowns on the floor were starting to come out of it and Minerva zapped them again for good measure.

The excitement was now pretty much over and I turned to find Mandy standing behind me.

Mandy was trembling and looking like she wanted to cry.

Sarah was standing next to her and holding Mandy's hand.

Minerva was standing at the end of the bar blocking the bartender's escape and glaring at him, daring him to try to leave.

Her beautiful green eyes were flashing, as if on fire, such was her rage.

The bartender was looking down unable to meet her eyes.  

 

I took my little peach in my arms and Mandy put her head on my chest, crying softly.

Katherine came in shortly afterwards, grinning, and walked over to Minerva and Sarah and started talking to them, quietly.

Sarah put her hand over her mouth to hide a smile, while turning her head briefly to look at me, while Minerva just nodded her head, and was smiling as well.

 

As for the rest, I will cut to the chase.

The State Police did arrive and three arrests were made, the 3 clowns. 

Katherine and I were given appearance tickets and my taser was temporarily confiscated, but then returned at our hearing in town court after the charges were dropped against us.

I put my ring back on and kept it not telling the police it's purpose, and therefore it was overlooked.

I was right about the gaggle of buffoons; they very cocky after at first threatening me with high priced New York City Lawyers, which one of them was, and one of them was wealthy enough to have connections, however mine were better.

 

I allowed them to plead to 200 hours of community service, each, picking up trash along the road.

This was their official sentence imposed by the court.

There were two unofficial stipulations and sanctions imposed upon them. 

Someone real scary talked to each of them, that person being an old friend of mine returning a favor.  

The first stipulation was that they dress as circus clowns while performing the said community service and believe me, they did.

The second was that after their Harley's were removed from the lake bottom at the end of the west breakwater, they would be

reconditioned at their expense and then donated to three small volunteer fire departments to be raffled off as a fundraisers.

Arthur suggested this stipulation.  

 

As for the bartender, out of the goodness of his heart he donated $5000.00 cash to the county animal shelter.

His stipulations; first he make an appointment over the telephone requesting that a photographer be present, and that his picture be put in his local paper as a human interest story.  

Then he would deliver the cash in person.

The caveat, he would be dressed like a prostitute.

This was Minerva's suggestion.

Starting with an expensive Elvira style wig, heavy and trashy makeup, he was dressed like a drag queen whore right down to red fishnet stocking and shocking pink high heel platform shoes.

This was very generous on my part when you consider that he whored himself to the clowns for a lousy two hundred dollars. 

 

That evening after we were done with the police, Mandy rode home with me on the back of the motorcycle, her long honey blond hair streaming behind like a banner.

Unlike Sarah, Peaches (Mandy) had ridden before and didn't hold on quite so tight, knowing how to shift her weight in the turns.

We stopped on the way home for coffee and bagels. 

While I placed our order, she went into the bathroom to freshen up and brush her hair.

She was pleased to be allowed to wear her hair down and loose for me in public and sat close next to me squeezing my hand while we enjoyed our coffee and bagels and just talked, Mandy glad to be out alone with me and I with her.

 

Mandy would be sleeping with me that night in consideration for what she had been through, and my ladies were waiting up for us in the kitchen when we arrived home.

There was no discussion, I ordered Mandy upstairs, and then followed, leaving my ladies in the kitchen.

As I was walking up the stairs, I could almost feel their smiles caressing my back... yes life was definitely good. 

 

As is my custom, Mandy and I showered before soaping each other down and then shampooing each other's hair.

I left the bathroom first, leaving Mandy to blow dry her hair, and Minerva was waiting for me outside of her bedroom. 

She put her arms around my neck and kissed my mouth, tasting like mint toothpaste, as did I, and then she whispered.

 

"You can be such a bastard, Master, goodnight."

And then smiling, she let go and turned to leave.

 

"Not so fast my impertinent redhead bitch."

I whispered back, giving her buttocks a familiar little squeeze, and then grabbing her shoulders gently to turn her around.

I returned her kiss, hugging her tight.

 

Then Minerva went into her bedroom and closed the door and Sarah opened hers and stepped out.

Sarah walked up to me, and then I took both her hands in mine and pulled her close.

I then kissed my pretty girl's sweet mouth, fresh and clean from a recent brushing and then sent her to bed, wishing her a "goodnight".

 

Last, but certainly not least was Katharine, coming out of her room when Sarah closed her door.

"Katherine." I said sternly while glaring at her.

"Come here and assume the position."

I pointed at my feet, and she did.

"Of all my ladies, I always thought you were one of the most level headed.

Have you any idea how much those Harleys are going to cost me?"

 

And then turning, I said.

"Minnie, Sarah, move away from your doors right now and get into bed or there might be three girls leashed to the pole before the night is through."

 

I heard two sets of feet scurrying and then Mandy darted from the bathroom into my bedroom closing the door quietly behind her.

 

Turning back to Katherine, I said, harshly.

"Heel, slave and look at your Master."

Katherine came up from the floor into a kneeling position, looking frightened.

 

"Put your arms behind your back and keep them there.

I gathered all her long hair into a ponytail and twisted it around my hand until it was tight to her scalp.

"You have such beautiful long thick long hair, Katherine, do you know what you have forced me to do now?" 

 

"Please, Master, don't ....................."

 

"Be silent."

I loudly commanded, as Katherine swallowed and closed her eyes.

"Stand, slave, you brought this on yourself and are only getting what you deserve for your impulsive actions."

 

You could hear a pin drop...................................................

No doubt Sarah, Mandy and Minerva were holding their breath straining to listen through the closed doors. 

 

I kissed her mouth long and deep, and Katherine opened her eyes in surprise as I let go of her hair, letting it drop down her back. 

I put my index finger in front of my lips and winked at her, smiling.

 

"As I was saying, my voluptuous and buxom Katherine, hear my sentence.

For your wonderfully impulsive, clever, although expensive actions of putting three Harleys into neutral, pushing them one by one to the end of breakwater and then into the Lake."

 

"I said get away from the doors ladies".... and then I heard two sets of feet, plus one more, scurrying again. 

 

"I will be sending you to medical school.

This is something that I know you have always wanted, and that you thought was beyond your reach when you signed your contract with the Sanctorum.

I am sure that we will all be proud with having a Doctor of Medicine in our family...right ladies?"

 

"Yes, Michael!"

Minerva, Sarah and Mandy all said in unison, opening their doors as Katherine hugged me with tears of happiness running down her face, as I was hugging her and wiping those tears.

 

"Ladies....  hallway, now!"

I shouted, and the three came out of their rooms and lined up side by side.  

Katherine joined them, wiping the remaining tears from her face and smiling, as they all were.

 

"Assume the position ladies... very nice, and don't think for a minute that I didn't know you all were running in place and not in bed."

I lifted their white silk nightgowns and gave each of them a sound slap on the ass, including Katherine.

"Order and discipline will be maintained in this household as well as your obedience, heel.   

Minerva and Sarah, it is bedtime, goodnight.”

They each received a kiss and hug for me, and I sent them on their way.

 

"Katherine and Mandy?"

 

"Yes, Michael."

They said, again.

 

"I'm really not sleepy after all that has happened today and I feel quite amorous.

You will both be sharing my bed this evening and we will be sleeping in late."

 

"May we fix our hair for you, Michael?"

 

"Yes, Katherine, and you may choose the styles."

 

When they returned they were carrying extra pillows and a blanket.

 

They both had fixed their hair into ponytails and their faces were makeup free, freshly scrubbed and glowing.

As they came bustling into the bedroom, they looked so happy and wholesome as if they were "attending a slumber party".... that's what I was thinking at the time.

 

I was lying on my back as they came in naked and then got into bed with me, one on either side. 

I sat up, propping my pillows again the headboard, taking a girl in each arm and hugging them, and stroking their soft and thick ponytails.

 

Katherine went down on me first, licking the tip of my manhood and then the shaft while Mandy and I were kissing, and I was playing with Mandy's breasts and stroking her sweet flower.

Soon, Mandy was kissing my face and neck, working her down my chest and groin to help Katherine.

They were taking turns sucking and licking my cock while kissing each other long and deep as I watched.

I took their hair out of the ponytails so that I could feel it teasing my chest and groin while they continued licking and sucking my cock and balls.

 

I came in Mandy's mouth and she swallowed all of my semen; my orgasm was indescribable, nevertheless I was soon hard again.

Two lovely women in the same bed will do that to a man.

Katherine likes it a little rough and I grabbed hold of her hair, pulling, and then ordered Mandy to get on her back and told her to close her eyes.

 

I forced Katherine's face into Mandy's dripping vagina ordering Katherine to lick and play with herself.

After a time, I shoved my cock into Katherine's dripping, swollen pussy.

I slapped Katherine's voluptuous ass as I rammed her, while she was licking Mandy's dripping swollen pussy with abandon.

They both were moaning loudly and I so wanted to orgasm again, but I held back.

Mandy was the first to come, and then Katherine, both of them bucking and squirming.

 

I again grabbed Katherine by her hair, wrapping my hand in it pushed her face into my rock hard welcoming cock.

I had my second orgasm coming in her mouth and afterwards Katherine swallowed everything.

She and Mandy licked my cock and balls clean, as I lay there relaxed and satisfied. 

I was absolutely spent by then and feeling as weak as a kitten, and sleepy... so sleepy, imagining that I was one being licked clean by two sexy mother cats.

 

I just lay there until they finished, and then cuddling up on either side of me. 

I kissed them both before drifting off into a calm and blissfull sleep.................

 

I woke up late the next morning to find Mandy and Katherine gone and Minerva sitting on the bed with a tray of bagels with cream cheese, smoked fish, honey dew melon and a carafe of coffee.

I sat up and arranged the pillows for us to lean against the headboard.

 

"With everything going on lately I thought that we might never get a chance to talk about Martha."

Minerva said, getting next to me and pouring two cups of coffee from the carafe, taking hers and then placing the tray on my lap.

I noticed that Minerva had her hair done up in a French twist, wonderful, apparently it was long enough for this elegant style now and she was wearing a vibrant red silk kimono with white chrysanthemums over her white silk nightgown. 

 

I reached over to stroke the soft hair at the nape of her neck. 

"You look lovely, my love, good enough to eat and your hair is very elegant and sexy."

 

"That is how I will be wearing until it is long enough for a nice bun... Mickey."

She said, teasing, I could see the amusement in her eyes, even though she said it with a straight face.

 

Mickey, short for Michael, and term of endearment with a little story behind it.

Martha called me Mickey when we were first married, in the days when I thought she loved me, and before we lost our child.... my son.... my boy, Aaron, and I cried at the time remembering a quote by Roman Polanski.

 

"If you have a great passion it seems that the logical thing is to see the fruit of it, and the fruit are children".

Afterwards, I internalized my grief for my son, while my wife wore it on her sleeve and accused me of being cold and heartless.

 

No matter what I did or said after that there was no pleasing Martha, and eventually I stopped trying.

For whatever reason, Martha blamed me for the death of our son and the complications that rendered her sterile.

She completely let herself go, becoming quite obese, although she kept herself clean, paying particular attention to her perfect teeth.

Martha denied me sex and cut her beautiful long hair brutally short to spite me.

 

When we were first married, Martha was a small, petite woman with much the same figure as Mandy.

Martha had such beautiful long black hair, being thick and soft, falling just to the middle of her back.

Of Portuguese decent on her mother's side, Martha has the same rich black hair, dark onyx eyes and the prefect light olive complexion of her mother. 

 

She also has a hot fiery temper.

One to match Minerva's, and Martha can swear up a blue streak in Portuguese when angry.

Unlike Minerva, whose anger is tempered and controlled, Martha can be spitefully inventive, and has a tendency to throw and break things. 

For example, she sold most of my music collection to a flea market promoter for pennies on the dollar while I was away on business. When I returned from Japan, to find my records and cassette tapes gone, I was served with divorce my papers, via a singing telegram the same day.

 

When angry, Martha would often strike me, although I easily blocked her ineffectual blows and kicks making her even angrier still. 

I never hit her back.... if she hurt herself hitting me, so be it.

An only child, her parents doted on her giving her everything that she asked for.... Martha was a spoiled brat.

 

I took my marriage vows seriously, "for better or for worse", making the best of a bad situation and throwing myself into my work.

I felt betrayed when Martha left me and filed for divorce, as if my grief was any less real then hers, and then trying to have me thrown

out of own home, property that owned before I married her.

I never strayed or had an affair while we were married.  

 

The last time that Martha had called me Mickey was the day I confronted Frank Abzug, when she fainted in my arms.

 

"Why did she call you that, Michael?

Was it Mickey for the mouse?

Minnie and Mickey?"

She said, lightly, and laughing, she not possibly knowing the man from my past, the man, the father never to be, Mickey.

Mickey was buried with his son.

The only other person who knows this is Arthur. 

Arthur felt my pain, I saw it in his face when we talked in my Library, on the day the enforcers took the offal scum away.... he told me a little about his nephew, knowing that I would never betray a confidence.

 

Minerva saw the pain in my face, even though I tried to hide it with a smile.

"I'm sorry Michael, I was only teasing and I can see that you don't want to talk about that.

May we still talk about Martha?"

 

"Come closer."

I said, putting the tray on the floor, and she put her coffee on the tray and then got close putting her head on my lap.

"You are intuitive as well as beautiful, my Marvelous Minerva and I love you.

I lightly stroked her beautiful face, and continued until I finished my story.

I will take you into my confidence a second time my love.... let me tell you about my son.............................."

 

Minerva listened to my story, not interrupting to ask questions.

I sat and held her for a while, just enjoying our intimacy.

Finally, she spoke.

 

"I never realized why you were so bitter, at first, Michael... so very bitter.

You showed up at my dance studio unshaved, and in desperate need of a haircut.

You were wearing faded blue jeans, a white tee shirt, and engineer boots.

I couldn't figure out how you got past security, and classes were not starting for two hours and then by appointment only.

I was watching you from a live feed on my laptop in my office, and I thought you were a bum without two nickels to rub together.

 

"I watched you for two months before I went to your studio, my love.

I had business with the bank across the street from your building when I first saw you.

You had your hair pinned up, and were wearing a dark brown skirt and jacket, a white ruffled silk blouse, tan stocking and dark brown

pumps when you walked into the bank, and you were all business... no nonsense.

 

You walked in the Bank like you owned the place, walking past me, never giving me a second glance.

You walked right in the Bank President's Office, closing the door behind you and taking my appointment.

I was annoyed and intrigued.... I made some polite inquires and decided to meet you, despite your best efforts to keep me out."

 

"Why didn't you tell me all this before, Michael?"

 

"Because, I was waiting for the right opportunity."

I answered.

 

"Well as you remember I'm sure, my secretary refused to give you an appointment or let you talk to me."

 

"I remember."

 

"You told her that when you returned from business on the West Coast in two week you would be returning with flowers.

 

"Yes, and Donna your secretary told me to leave now and never come back or she was calling the police.... I left, didn't I?"

 

"You certainly did and we thought it hysterical that a bum whom was lucky enough to get past security had business on the West Coast.

I thought we would never see you again. 

When the telephones and intercoms were working again, and as a precaution, we called the police and reported you as a stalker.

I assumed at that time everything was a coincidence because of the Telephone Company truck parked outside and............

 

"Michael, you didn't?"

 

"Perhaps, or perhaps not."

I answered.

 

"You just vanished and nobody saw you leave, and the tapes from the security system were somehow completely erased.

"How did you do that, Michael?"

 

"It's a secret and I shall not tell you"

 

"Michael?"

 

"Minerva!"

 

"OK, Mr. Magician, be that way, I beefed up security, and then you got in a second time and I hardly recognized you, you clean up so nice."

"My secretaries office was full of flowers when I arrived, pots of peace lilies, hundreds of them, with cards addressed to me.

I suppose you won't tell you how you did that either?"

 

"Nope"

 

"There you were, sitting at my desk wearing a black tuxedo, and one that was custom tailored just for you, I can tell these things.

Your feet were on my desk...my desk! 

The audacity, if I could have called security I would have. 

Your hands folded on your chest, and your top hat tipped over your eyes.

 

Really Michael, you have such a flair for the dramatic.... cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war.

I can't believe that Martha could possibly find you so uninteresting that she left you for that lump, Frank Abzug.

 

"Martha changed, especially after the stillbirth.

Even after we were first married, all she wanted was a large family, the children to be the main focus in her life; sex was for the propagation of children; Martha was a virgin on our wedding night. 

Martha's Mother and Aunts had great influence with her, and I should have seen it coming; I loved her Minerva."

 

Forget about her for now....  I was fascinated and flattered that you got in a second time and you looked so different.

Cleaned up with a shave and haircut, top hat and cane and the flowers... how could you possibly know that I adored lilies?

Then you leapt over the desk and bowed to me with a flourish, you pretended to hand me your business card, which was blank, but took my hand instead in your strong-callused hand, so out of place for a man wearing a tailored tuxedo and you bowed a second time

and not letting go said:

 

"The modest Rose puts forth a thorn,
The humble sheep a threat'ning horn:
While the Lily white shall in love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright."

 

William Blake (November 28, 1757–August 12, 1827) was an English poet, painter, and printmaker, Ms. Flynn.

I wish I were as eloquent as he, but alas, I remain a thorn without a rose to stain your beauty bright.

 

Then you explained that all you wanted was a chance in the advanced ballroom dance class to brush up on your skills and prove your mettle...well, you know the rest, how could I possibly refuse, we moved as one.

 

"Dancing is like riding a bike, my dear, you never forget."

I replied.

 

"You need to treat her with a firm hand, Michael, and set limits for her.

You certainly can't allow her to hit and swear at you.... I was thinking out loud, of course you won't.

That being said, with us it is different, you bastard."

She whispered, squeezing and kissing my hand.

 

"Impertinent bitch, you certainly are not setting a good example for Sarah."

I replied smiling. 

"Martha has a temper, and in this department is your equal.

While yours is tempered and controlled, hers is not."

 

"What if Martha acts up and you are not around?"

She asked.

 

"I'm putting you in charge, my love.

You will be Mistress of the house and the keeper of the keys, over Martha.

The girls will follow your lead.

If Martha acts like a spoiled, petulant child, treat her like one."

 

"Seriously, Michael, I understand why you did not hit her back when you were married.

But how could you live with her without having sex.... without intimacy, that I don't quite understand.

You are such a passionate and loving man."

 

"I had my work, my inventions, loyal employees whom I had a responsibility for, and their families."

 

"Nevertheless, since you want my advice, don't bend over backwards to appear fair or feel too sorry because of her bad choices."  

Minerva advised.

"I should be thankful for it not for those bad choices, I would have never met you, or loved you the way that I do now." 

 

"You will forgive her betrayal Michael, as you forgave mine, because that is the type of man you are.

When you are angry, it seems that you have no fear, confronting the clowns like that, you could have been hurt."

 

"I knew what I was doing."

I replied.

 

"True, and you could have still been hurt.

Never forget you are a friend and confidant of a Grand Master whom wields the power of life and death.

You most likely will be Arthur's successor." 

 

"One more thing and then I will keep quiet, you are right; we are of the Sanctorum, you and I.

After experiencing both facets of it, I never have been happier.

When you look at me it is if you are caressing me with your eyes.... you look the same way at Sarah.

You know what else I think, Michael?"

 

"You said one more thing."

I reminded her.

 

"That was just a figure of speech and you know it."

 

"Please continue my love."

I said, blowing on her neck.

 

"I don't think that I shall."

She retorted.

 

"Are we going to start that again, Minnie?"

 

"You want the truth, Michael? Do you want the truth?

I don't think that you can handle the truth!"

 

"Try me."

 

"You are prickly to touch as a hedge is,

Or as soft as eiderdown fluff,

Sharp or quite smooth at the edges,

My Master, my Michael.... my love.... you would have made a Marvelous father." 

 

"That was very nice, Minerva."

I said swinging my legs over the side of the bed and reaching for my tray.

If I remember correctly, perhaps my voice may have been breaking when I said that.

 

Minerva then pushed me down on the bed and put her hand over my mouth.

 

"I am not done speaking, be silent.

You are not getting off that easy, Buster."

She said harshly, going into her mean, Mistress Mode.

"I have an announcement to make."                                                                                                                                      `   `

And then she leaned forward and bit my ear lightly, whispering.

"It is my turn to be on top.... with your permission of course......................"

 

Author's note in regard to the underlined sentences: I am quoting in part another Author's work; W.H. Auden:

1903-1973; 'Oh Tell Me The Truth About Love' (1938) .