Sera Ch. 08

Steven

I went directly to the kitchen for brunch, sitting and waiting patiently while my erection receded. By the time I was done eating, it was safe to tuck my shirt tails and start looking for the nearest beer, but I found Mum instead.

"Oh, there you are, hon," she called.

She was at the rear of the first floor main hall, looking like she'd just come in from out back as she struggled to see in the diminished light of indoors. A black, loose but form flattering dress covered her curves less than halfway to her knees, the square necked collar unbuttoned at the top to show a bit of pink lace bra. I watched its contents jolt and bounce as she approached on confident high heels to stand before me with a friendly, if careful smile.

"I'm a little bothered by how fast I got used to sleeping in," she confided.

Adopting the same careful, but friendly attitude, I replied, "The lifestyle of the rich and famous grows on me quick, I must admit."

"Especially Ashleigh's vision of it, huh?"

I smiled, thinking of the night before with my forbidden aunt and the audience of off duty staff.

"We should probably talk about some things," she said. "You think?"

"Yeah."

"Your place, or mine?"

"Doesn't matter. Yours."

In a way, it wasn't like dealing with Mum as I sat on her couch soon after, she going to the kitchenette to fix herself a drink and get me a beer. It was almost as if she was a stranger and I really was the detective/agent. The thing of it was that I was supposed to be her detective/agent.

She came back, passing me the bottle with a smile as she bent low enough for me to see down her top, on purpose I knew. I smiled back and took a drink while she sat beside and slightly turned towards me on the edge of the couch with her knees together.

"We haven't really had much time together since we've been here," she commented.

"No, I guess not. But then, maybe it just seems that way after Saint John and that little room."

"Yeah, could be. I miss you sometimes, even though I know you're in the house or on the grounds somewhere."

"Remember when you told me that you thought that all our big house back home ever did was keep us apart?"

"Uh huh," she said, hissing a short laugh and adding, "Now we're in a house eight times the size. And to think, we were going to get a small apartment."

"We did, in a sense," I observed with a glance around us.

"Yes, in a sense. ... Sweetie pie... I'm sorry about what happened. Not so much about Kitten, although I'm sorry if you feel badly about that, but I mean what I, uhhh... tried with you afterwards. I'm sorry, I just..."

She took a long drink from her glass, regarding it thoughtfully for a minute as she held it in her lap, then went on.

"I wanted you to know how I felt. I also wanted us to... connect. Like I say, we haven't been seeing as much of each other as we used to and... You know, that experience we had together? The first time we had sex? We've never done it again and lately you don't seem interested. I was just trying to make you see how I felt, not just about Kitten, but to reconnect with you and... feel you."

I believed it. Sure I did. But I couldn't be sure if those were her only, or ultimate reasons for attempting the Jedi spell with me. Half truths are the trickiest lies of all, and I oughta know.

"Okay."

"You forgive me?"

"Yeah," I truthfully said with a little grin.

"I love you," she said with her own smile, kissing my cheek.

"I love you, too."

"Uh, I hate to ask, but is it going to bother you with me and Kitten?"

"She was supposed to be mine," I said.

I wasn't even planning on saying that, it just came out of me without accusation or doubt, just a matter of fact.

"Uh... we- Honey, I'm sorry. I understand that there's something between you two, but how was I to know that? And I hate to say it, but it's not as if you were showing any interest and you still aren't. You two haven't even really spoken yet."

"We were actually kinda hanging out earlier."

"Oh?"

"I remember what I said out on the balcony a few days ago, it's just that... I don't know. I can't help it. I don't want to have these feelings for her, but I do and it's more than just feelings. It's the parasite that really wants her."

After a pause, Mum offered, "She speaks much the same way about you and I definitely got the impression that there's a lot more to it than just boy-meets-girl. She's quite serious about you."

"Oh, I know.

"Well, that's good."

I raised my brows in doubt at that and took a slug of beer.

"Isn't it?"

"Mum... I was talking to her and at one point she smiled. It was this great big smile that should have been adorable, but..."

"But, what?"

"Her... It was... Mum, she's crazy."

"That's absurd."

"Uh, no it's not. This is one reason why this whole thing about her bothers me."

"I don't see that about her at all."

(But she wouldn't, would she?)

"Does she have it? I asked."

"'It'?"

"The parasite. Have you ever seen her... you know."

"I hate that term, but no, I've never noticed it in her. She's too young."

"Are you sure? I'm younger than she is."

"She has that Burchell presence, a lot like Sheila has, but I've never seen any evidence of it in her, no more than I did in myself when I was her age."

I nodded, taking my turn to stare thoughtfully at the drink she held in her lap until I could work up the nerve to ask, "Mum... have you two done what you and I did that first time? Have you had... that experience with her?"

"No. Why?"

"I just wanted to know," I replied.

This was another half-truth. Of course I wanted to know, the unsaid reason being that I now knew for sure that sex with another Burchell kick-starts the parasite. Whether or not Mum was aware of this, I had no idea, but it was her who taught me to never share what could be sensitive information for no reason and, since I was now a double agent, I had to be careful of that stuff.

"I wish we could do it again," Mum pointedly stated.

"We will. I want to."

She took my hand and gave me one of those old motherly smiles that I returned the way only a mother's child could.

"So, are you going to pursue Kitten?" she asked after some long moments.

" ... What I know is best for me is battling with what I want."

"She would understand that, and I really think you're misreading her."

"That's what I want to believe."

After another pause, "Would you like to watch?"

"Watch?"

"Kitten and I. I'm sure I could make it happen."

"Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Look, you should know what your Mum's all about by now, sweetie pie," she teased, moving closer to me.

"Yeah, but..."

"Think of it this way: Kitten doesn't know about us, so imagine the thrill of what would be going through her head if it just happened that something started in front of you. Oh my god, what a fun little role-play that would be," she excitedly projected.

Mum did have a point there and I had to quickly evict the mental images she'd put into my head.

"Eh?" she prodded, our thighs touching while she grinned and elbowed my side a few times.

"Aw Mum, come on," I begged with a laugh.

"Okay, never mind. How about just hanging out with us for a bit sometime soon?"

"There's a problem with that," I stated.

"What problem?"

"Well, we both, uhh... we get really turned on when we're around each other. I mean really turned on and it shows very clearly on both of us."

"That'll be fun," she giggled.

"I'm serious," I assured her with a slightly embarrassed grin.

"So am I," she sleazed, moving closer. "But now Mummy's all turned on.

"Mum, you're always horny, you slut."

"(Giggle!)"

Kitten

I'd wondered why Ashleigh used the plural when she referred to her apartments, but the reason was clear once we reached the third floor. She had an entire wing to herself, and the space used a sort of open concept design rather than a corridor.

At the top of the private staircase, I found myself in an atrium with a huge skylight above, the natural light it allowed into the spacious chamber supplementing the large windows in the opposite wall. The usual plants were everywhere and the light quality and feel of the space was such that, at first, I almost thought I'd stepped outside. The floor was done in gray mosaic tile with reddish, cloudy streaks, the walls something that looked like polished, medium gray cement with huge, exposed wooden beams that were aged to a light gray at evenly spaced intervals.

Perhaps strangest of all, there were actual windows in the interior walls alongside the wide, black stained, wooden doors at each end of the atrium. They had curtains, some of which were drawn, ledges with flower troughs under them and everything. There was even an outside light above each of the doors, these I guessed, being the lighting for this space when the sun went down.

Ashleigh took me to the left as I tried not to trip over my feet while looking around myself at this curious spectacle. We entered a set of wide, ten feet tall, double wooden doors and I found myself in the living room of what I might call a luxury bungalow. This décor was more modern feeling, yet still traditional, and I figured this must be her inner sanctum as she led me on through the residence, down a corridor and to a curious bedroom.

The dark hardwood floor worked well with the beige walls and dark trim. One large window was covered by heavy, dark brown, velvet curtains that reached the floor, and the furniture, though nicely detailed in its own way, had a sort of rough look to it, especially the huge bed with the big, mysterious eye-bolts screwed into the wooden head, footboard and along the heavy frame.

"This is sort of a guest room," she said with a smirk as she walked towards a closed door. "You might say it's where I punish people for good behaviour."

At first, I didn't understand what she meant until I noticed the cable and swivel secured to the wall above the nightstand. The cable led to a pulley in the ceiling and then down again to a small winch affixed to the wall beside the bedhead, and that's when my online experience with BDSMers came back to me, my jaw slowly sagging with awe and nervous excitement.

When Auntie Ashleigh's staff referred to her as 'Mistress', they apparently really meant it and I wondered at what the employee of the month went through in this room.

"Oh my god," I giggled.

"What?" she asked, standing inside a huge walk-in closet.

"Are you a real Domina, Auntie?"

"Yes, sweetie pie, I am," she chuckled. "And I'm impressed at your knowledge of the proper term."

"I learned it online," I monotoned as I reached out and fingered the swivel, wondering...

"Oh? Well... I'm probably not exactly like what you'd expect from online."

"In what way?"

"We all have our own little kinks," she answered as she emerged with an outfit. "And online is one thing, but when you're in the room and part of the show... Take a shower and change into these. The bathroom's right through there."

She pointed to the other doors as she walked towards the exit and it was hard not to notice the subtle change in her presence. Here, she was in total charge and she didn't suggest or ask anything.

"Come to my bedroom when you're done, and don't be too long about it."

"I won't, Auntie." I replied with a whole new respect for her.

I couldn't help getting myself off in the shower, but I was plenty fast about it.

Surprisingly, it was a baseball uniform. White, skin tight breeches made of stretchy cotton. They were so thin, so tight that, without panties, they clung to miffy's pouting, spread lips, making her stand out in stark relief. There was also a snug, pink Jersey with a white Playboy bunny on the front, the number '69' on the back with my last name above it. Included was a pair of pink sneakers, ball cap and elastic for a ponytail. By the time I was done dressing, I couldn't help but wonder how long Auntie Ashleigh had this waiting for me. My horny couldn't even remember masturbating in the shower, but then it rarely ever did.

I soon found her bedroom and I knocked a little timidly on the open door.

"Come in and close the door behind you." She called from what I guessed was an en-suite bathroom. "Have a seat on the bed, I'll be out in a minute."

Her bedroom wasn't overly large, about the size of an average living room, but it was a Victorian masterpiece. I closed the door and crawled up on her unusually high, unusually large bed. The mattress was medium firm and all the oversize comforters, duvets and soft blankets made it a very cozy nest as I sat on one thigh, knees bent with my heels touching my bum and one hand on the mattress, waiting. I couldn't help but grin as I looked around myself.

Auntie Ashleigh soon appeared in an open doorway with an ashtray and what I thought was a cigarette, and her smile of expectation turned to almost pure lust when she stopped to look at me. It actually made me blush.

If you weren't my niece, you'd be working here. And I do mean here," she specified, gesturing to the floor with the cigarette.

"What would I be doing?" I asked.

"Whatever I told you," she responded with a leer as her eyes groped my body.

I giggled a little and she made her way to the bed, sitting on its edge and leaning over, resting her weight on one forearm and placing the ashtray on the bed between us. From between her boobies, she plucked a gold butane lighter and lit the cigarette, which was about half the diameter of a normal one and appeared to have been rolled by her. I wondered how it was that she didn't just go out and buy them ready made. It wasn't as if she couldn't afford it.

"Ever smoke pot, Kitten?"

And there was another question answered.

"Um, no. I've never even smoked a cigarette," I admitted as the sweet smell of the stuff reached my nose.

She inhaled, making swift 'whooshing' sounds as I watched curiously. Holding her breath, she passed it to me.

I coughed my lungs out. She told me not to inhale so deeply and to try again, so I did, again coughing my lungs out. I passed it back to her and she passed it back to me at intervals until my throat adapted and I could hold some of the smoke in my lungs like she did.

"That's enough for you, sweetie pie," she said when the joint was three quarters smoked, mostly by her. "You've been drinking and we don't want you all messed up on your first time, do we?"

By the time she finished the joint, I was definitely feeling something. I liked it.

"So..." Ashleigh started while placing the ashtray on one of the bed's attending, tall nightstands, "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" I asked?"

"Yes, wrong," she confirmed, leaning on her forearm again to look at me. "I could tell when you were coming up the main hall, and it wasn't just your overactive hormones."

"Well..." I dithered.

I didn't want to get into it because of how the pathways of some of my troubles led to Daddy, but her expectant, raised eyebrow and her wonderful, loving, sparkly eyes opened me up to the Mistress in her private domain. Her change in demeanor here made it obvious that this was where she exercised her authority as head of the family and home owner as it pleased her.

"It's just... Well, Gina and I kinda aren't getting along."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"She, uhhh... She doesn't think this is a good environment for me."

" ... She wants you to leave," she told me more than assumed.

"Yes."

"I understand. Are you going to?"

"No, Auntie. We agreed on two weeks and she has to stick to that."

"Okay. So, it's the ah... uninhibited atmosphere she doesn't like."

"Yes."

"Right. Well, Gina doesn't understand us. When I say that, I don't mean that she doesn't know you personally but, as a Burchell, she doesn't understand you. She couldn't."

"You mean the Burchell drive."

"Among other things. Spread your legs. ... Uh huh, nice and wide for Auntie. So, now you see even better why she can't be included in a lot of family discussions."

"Yes."

"You'll see that even clearer in time, but right now I'm a bit concerned with how this is making you feel."

" ... It's like being really, really tired and having someone who's always waking you up whenever you drift off. I love Gina, and I know she's only looking out for me, and what's good for me, but..."

"But, what?"

"Everybody in my life has always been doing that and I'm sick of being..."

"Herded?"

"Yes! That's it exactly. I go where I'm told I should go, doing what I'm supposed to do when I get there in a life that's been set out for me by people I love and who claim to know better than I do of what's best for me. It makes me feel like a child, like I'm stupid, and I hate it."

I was a little surprised at this outburst, but it felt good to finally tell somebody.

"Does your boyfriend treat you this way, too?"

"Yes."

After a thoughtful pause, Ashleigh asked, "Were it up to you, how would your life in Langley have turned out? What choices would you have made for yourself?"

" ... I used to be an exotic dancer, y'know."

"Yes, I do."

"Well, I'd probably be doing that for a living because I really loved it, and because then I'd feel independent. I'd be making my own money and lots of it, but even more important is how independent I'd feel. Everybody looks at me like a child, even Gina, and I just want people to see me as a woman."

"And respect you as such."

"Yes. Exactly."

"I understand that. Do you think you need to be herded through life? Be honest, now."

I sighed, thinking about this for a moment before replying with, "Well, everybody needs support from people who love them, but... I don't know. Sometimes I believe the stuff they say and I think I do, but sometimes I refuse to believe it."

"Do you love your boyfriend?"

"Very, very much."

"What's his name?"

"James," I lied.

"Have you ever cheated on him?"

I hesitated, then with my eyes down said, "Yes. I did it yesterday with two groundskeepers... a- and Auntie Kathleen."

"And that's another reason you're upset. Does Gina know?"

I shook my head.

"Hm?"

"No, Auntie," I replied. "I wish I didn't do it and I can't..."

"Can't what?"

"I can't let it happen again, but..."

"Speak your feelings here, Kitten. I won't hold anything against you or judge like others would."

" ... But, what about Stevie? Sex with the staff will make him see me as a useless little slut, but sex with him would be so much more cheating because of how I feel about him. In the meantime, I have no right even thinking about sex with either Stevie or staff because of James. It's pretty fucked up, Auntie."

"Alright... Who do you want to have sex with? And when I ask that, I don't mean from the perspective of loyalty, monogamy or propriety. As a horny woman, who do you want?"

"Stevie."

My reply was prompt enough to startle me. It meant that Stevie had won out over 'James' where my horny was concerned.

"And if you had a choice of either's company on a trip somewhere?"

I did pause in thought there, but my answer was the same.

"Why?"

"Because he wouldn't be there as an authority, as a babysitter. He'd be there as an equal."

"How do you know? What if, once he got to know you, he started treating you as James and Gina do because he sees the same things in you that they do?"

"Um... well, he... If he did, he'd be different about it. We'd be with each other, not just me with him, and we'd be taking care of each other, me of him as much as he of me."

"But, how do you know that? You can't know him or what he's all about from the little time you two have had together."

"I know this sounds weird, but I do know. I mean, no, I don't know him or what he's all about at this point, but I know... I just know inside that he wouldn't be like that. Does that sound stupid?"