Message-ID: <33804asstr$1007363406@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Rass Senip Reply-To: rass_senip@usa.net X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 02 Dec 2001 11:25:08 PST X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Sun, 02 Dec 2001 19:25:08 GMT Subject: {ASSM} Tim, the Teenage MC - Chapter 21 (c/f) NEW!! Date: Mon, 3 Dec 2001 02:10:06 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: hecate, gill-bates Tim, the Teenage MC By Rass Senip Chapter XXI: Fall 89 - Summer 90 Part 3 - The Greatest Tests Are From Within (no sex) Joey sensed me twenty miles from the Kenton county boarder. Damn his excitement was contagious. The moment I felt his mind touch mine I instinctively sped up. I was shocked to learn he wasn't linked with anyone. Neil had gone home to visit his family for the holidays, and without Suzi around he just hadn't felt the need to link with anyone else. But he gladly accepted my offer, and after that it was like he was in the car with me from all the talking we did over our two-way link. What we talked about, I don't have a clue any more. I totally forgot about my concerns of feeling uncomfortable while I was there. In total honesty, I never felt more comfortable as we spent the day hanging out in his new home watching cable TV, working out in the basement, and playing Super Mario Brothers on Tommy's Nintendo which Joey had borrowed. That night after his parents turned in, we watched an old Abbot and Costello movie somehow neither of us had seen before, then surfed channels for hours, watching parts of some B movies just like old times. We slept until almost noon the next day, spent half the day in the shorts we had slept in while doing the same as the day before until Margaret ordered we had to get dressed for dinner. It was while I was getting my clothes out I uncovered the key to the apartment Joey and Suzi had rented for me. I had totally forgotten about it and everything else I had worried about the past two weeks. I think that was the first moment I actually truly considered what it would be like to use their gift the way they had intended it. I took a shower just to give myself time to think about how to bring it up with Joey. During dinner, I found myself again completely at ease. I was with the family I had spent many meals with, and the changes time had made to us all didn't seem to matter. The surroundings were unfamiliar, but the feelings were just as they had been ten years before. After we finished eating, Joey and I were trying to find something worth watching on TV in the family room when Joey sighed and suggested, "Wanna go out tonight?" "Sure," I managed to say convincingly even though I would have rather not. "Where do you have in mind?" "Well," Joey said thoughtfully, "The Rave is open till midnight all week. It's a restaurant and dance hall on campus. It shouldn't be too crowded since half the students are still gone for the holidays." "Sounds good to me." "Is there anywhere else you can think of you want to go too?" Joey asked innocently enough. "Well..." I said as the key in my pocket poked me when I stirred uncomfortably. "What about taking me to see that apartment you two got me before we go dancing?" "I'm with that," Joey said, trying to constrain some of his enthusiasm. "I was beginning to think you forgot about it and left the key at home." "You kidding? I haven't stopped thinking about that damn key since I got it," I said, then bit my tongue for having said it that way. When Joey didn't respond, I added weakly, "I do appreciate why you did it and all..." The TV snapped off, and even though I sensed his eyes on me, I was afraid to look at him. "Tim, I want you here, Suzi wants you here, but if you really don't like it here, there are plenty of other people who are interested in that apartment. If you're worried about us losing our money on it because you don't want it, we won't. You can take it or leave it. Okay?" I relaxed after that sunk in, but I couldn't help but still feel a little guilty. I opened my mouth to tell him how I felt, but he cut me off saying, "Come on. Let's go. Don't worry about the apartment. Let's just go and have fun." There were maybe twenty people in all when we entered the Rave, but that was good, for if it had been overly crowded right away, I would have been overwhelmed by the churning emotional tide of a crowd. At first I was a bit bored, Joey having recognized some guy from one of his classes last semester and had struck up a conversation about the final. But as more people showed up, I started paying attention to the women's body language, especially when they started to dance. It was a very flirtatious atmosphere, and while there were couples, most didn't seem so serious so as not to flirt with others when the opportunity arose. I wasn't there an hour before I was out on the dance floor doing my best to flirt and dance like the rest. I felt so alive, so free, even a bit wild, letting my empathic senses go with the flow of the crowd, feeling the crowd's combined emotional force, and shaping my responses to amplify the free good feelings. Without really knowing I was doing it, I began to drive the crowd's good mood and free spirits higher with the simple gestures and expressions I had learned to restrain the year before. I just completely let go, generating the vibes that would make everyone around me feel what I wanted to feel myself, and reveling in the results. I had... No, everyone had a blast. They were supposed to close the place at midnight, but no one made any announcement about it until well past one, probably due to I having taken a long breather at a table with some girls I had met on the dance floor. We went back the next night and completely wore ourselves out, but left well before midnight after some of the girls I was dancing with started getting a little too flirty with me. I decided the accumulative affects of my empathic abilities were to blame, and told Joey I thought it would be best if we did something different the next night. So Joey and I went to a keg party the following night and we both got nicely plastered. I had always associated getting drunk with escaping my worries and fears, and never really saw what was so fun about it until that night. Shit, I've never laughed so hard and so long over the stupidest things before. And oh man, did I ever make a fool out of myself. But I don't regret a moment of it because Joey was right there with me making as big of a fool of himself as I was. Of course I might not feel that way if I could just remember some of the details... We decided not to go out the fifth night even though I was supposed to go home the next day. We spent most of the day in bed recovering, and between the hangover and the growing desire to stay, I was pretty uncomfortable. So was Joey for probably the same reasons, but neither of us mentioned anything but the hangover when sharing our mutual displeasures. After dinner, Joey decided he needed to workout, but I wasn't really in the mood for it myself. So while Joey did his thing in the basement, I pretended to watch TV while sorting through my very mixed feelings about whether to stay or not. Joey startled me when he suddenly came up and said, "If you're gonna see the apartment before you leave, now would be a good time." I felt some urgency in his words, but I just attributed it to being similar to my own need to come to some kind of decision about staying. "I think you're right," I said, getting up. "Good," he said with relief. "And I need explain a few things on the way over." The short drive over to the two-level, four-apartment, apartment building started out with Joey explaining how there were a lot of things he still wanted to show me, but he couldn't without knowing I wanted to stay. But the rest of the drive and a good twenty minutes after we got there ended up being all about my reasons why I didn't want to stay, and more importantly the reasons I did want to stay. I was just as undecided as I had been before we got in the car when Joey's sister Sarah showed up at the open door. "Well?" she queried right off the back without even a simple hello. "He hasn't decided yet," Joey said, visibly uncomfortable by her sudden appearance. "I told you I'd let you know if he did." "I can't wait all night," Sarah insisted. "I'll give you ten more minutes." "Ten minutes!" Joey said exasperatedly. "Come on Sarah! I haven't even told him yet!" "Tell me what?" I interrupted, sensing Joey's panic. "If you stay, you have to join the Group," Sarah stated. "What if I stay but I don't join the Group?" I said while I felt my heckles rising up. "That isn't a choice," Sarah stated coolly, then huffed from Joey's scalding stare and left as sudden as she had arrived. "What is this all about, Joey?" I asked as calmly as I could after following her cluster of symbols out to what was probably a car where three other shielded minds were waiting. "Tim," Joey said anxiously to my face while putting both hands on my shoulders to get my full attention. "I can't tell you anything until you can tell me for certain you will stay. I swear to God the last thing I wanted to do was put you on the spot like this, but it's now or never." "Why is it now or never?" I demanded. "I've had a great time, Joey, and I really want it to continue, but we both know this isn't the way it would normally be. I just need more time to figure out what I really want." "But everything you want is here," Joey urged. "God, I wish I could show you. Please, Tim... if there was ever a time to trust me blindly, now's the time. I can't tell you why." "That's only because of her!" I nearly snarled. "No! I mean, yes, but its not just her!" Joey said, turning away, suddenly unable to face me. "I can't say anything else. I just can't, Tim. I can't." I could hear the tremble in his voice even though it had only been ever so slight. I opened my mouth to ask why he couldn't, but I already knew why, so what was the use? I had to decide what I wanted more. To either be with Joey and Suzi or... not. Suddenly the very concept of not being around either of them for long periods of time upset me immensely. To go without Suzi's council, to live without Joey's camaraderie, to return to the life I had before Christmas break... "I want to stay," I whispered. "What?" Joey said, turning around. "I said, I want to stay," I said again, this time louder but shakier. "I don't care what I have to do. I just don't want to go without you and Suz again." "Are you sure?" Joey excitedly restrained himself from yelling out. I shivered from the new mixture of emotions I was struggling with, but without much hesitation I said, "Yeah, I'm sure." The next thing I knew the air was being squeezed out of me as Joey gave me an exuberant hug that almost made me see stars. After he released me and I gasped for breath, Joey was telling me something about the Group's new precautions against ensuring the loyalty of newcomers and protection of outside attacks. When he mentioned that every member had to submit to having what he called a failsafe program inserted into the deepest portion of their minds, my stomach knotted up and I immediately objected. "What do you mean, no?" Joey said almost argumentatively. "You said you didn't care what you had to do to stay, and you can't join the Group if you don't allow this one thing." "But I just can't let someone put something in my head like that. What's to stop someone else from using it against me?" "We've been really careful to make it almost impossible for it to be triggered by anything but someone enslaving you to work against the Group. You can even fine tune it if you want as long as we approve of the changes." "No, Joey... I... I just can't..." I said as I struggled to understand why I felt so certain I couldn't allow it. Suddenly the four minds out in the car probed and attempted to command me not to resist, but even with the element of surprise on their side, because they had probed for my mind, I was able to cancel the command symbols before they reached even half the distance between them and I. Joey seemed as startled as I, but just as I started saying, "Joey, what the fuck is ..." four more minds probed me and attempted to break through my newly raised mental barrier. The first four tried to use the second four's attack as a distraction, but detecting and canceling bursts of symbols like that was really trivial if you know how. "What's going on!" I demanded when I saw he was communicating with his sister. "Sarah's says she's sorry but she can't let you go without the failsafe. She's afraid someone might use you to get to Suzi and I. I didn't know she was planning this." "Tell her to stop or I'll start fighting back!" I said just before ten more minds joined in the fight and they simultaneously attacked. "Shit, Tim. She's not going to back down. But if you can hold them off without fighting back, Sarah says she might let you in without the failsafe." "Shit, I don't know if I can..." "Just try, okay? The worse thing that will happen is you have the failsafe put in. I'll help you take it out later if you really want me to." "Promise?" I grunted out, looking him in the eyes while detecting another six minds preparing to add their own streams to the now steady flow of symbols. "I swear," Joey said truthfully. I closed my eyes to focus myself entirely on my symbolic sight just in time to see Sarah send a telepathic transmission to a distant group of symbol clusters. While I was holding off the twenty or so people's dynamically changing streams of symbols, I wasn't sure I could hold off many more without seriously straining myself, and if all those distant clusters of symbols that were coming closer were telepaths coming to join the fight, I knew I was in deep shit. My heart was already racing from the excitement and effort I was exerting, but as the large group of symbol clusters drew closer (and thus the number of other minds between them and I diminished giving me better clarity of their clusters), my heart started beating even faster out of growing sense of terror due to their numbers. "Joey tell them to stop!" I yelled when I felt at least twenty more minds probe for me. Whatever his reply, it was lost in my effort to protect myself from the combined attack of forty-three minds. I was frantically canceling as many symbols as I could while the ones I simply couldn't get around to pounded my barrier of purely telepathic energy. My heart was pounding so damn hard I could hear the rush of blood in my ears. Then I felt the knife stabbing inside my brain that meant I was overstraining my telepathic abilities, but suddenly found some measure of relief when I surged more blood into my head somehow. But it wasn't enough. My barrier was weakening, I was having painful bright flashes behind my eyes, and there was this noise rising above the almost deafening shhhhhing in my ears... I had just recognized that sound as coming from my open mouth when I felt my defenses fail and my heart leapt up another notch in a burst of pain. Joey said he had felt the pain in my chest the moment my barrier fell, and between that, the blood coming out of my nose and eyes and the look of total fear on my face made him realize Gladius's conditioning would kill me before allowing my mind to be taken by another. The next moment Joey began shielding my mind as he shared his strength with me, startling the others long enough for me to recover from my near fatal panic attack. I kept my grip on the world around me in case the attacks began again, but to my relief they never did. Just Joey's telepathic message I was safe followed by a query asking if I needed to go to the hospital. I opened my red blurred eyes and croaked, "Take me home," to which he worriedly nodded and proceeded to gently gather me up and carry me out to the car. My head hurt, but thanks to Joey's share link the stabbing knife was for the most part gone. I felt so weak, so violated, so defenseless. All I wanted to do was rush home and seek the comfort and protection of my mom and dad. But at the time, the best I could do was to stay linked with Joey until I was strong enough to go home. I must have looked terrible when we got to Joey's house. Despite Joey having cleaned up the blood from my nose, Margaret nearly freaked from the blood on my shirt and the little bit around my eyes from what my tears had been washing out. Joey managed to explain what happened while Margaret carefully cleaned around my eyes, then after I took some aspirin and said I wanted to shower and go to bed, Joey helped me get undressed and showered with me in case I might pass out. After the shower, I called home and told them I was coming home first thing in the morning. When I hung up, Joey handed me a glass of orange juice, then asked the question he had been avoiding ever since we got there. "Are you going to come back?" I didn't answer him right away, but instead laid down on my side of his bed and rested long enough for the sharp pounding in my head that had been building up while I was upright to go down to a dull throb. "I don't want to join the group. I don't know if I even want to be around them." "I'm sorry Tim." "It wasn't your fault." "Yes it was. I pushed you and Sarah into it." "You didn't push me into anything I didn't want. Now shut up and let me go to sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow when you drive me home." "But ..." "Shhhh!" I said, then I moaned from the new throb that had created. My sinuses started acting up pretty bad in the middle of the night. I felt like I had a serious head cold, and the one time I risked blowing my nose, I nearly shit from all the really dark red and chunky blood I got out. My eyes hurt, my head hurt, and I swear at times I could hear three different ringing sounds in my ears. I felt so much worse the following morning than the night before that when Margaret learned the details of what hurt, she immediately called up my mom and they both agreed I needed a CAT scan, against my own protests I might add. At least they didn't push taking me to Central State's medical complex when I objected to it. Instead we went to a local hospital and after only about an hour of waiting I was injected with something to make the scan come out clearer, then laid there as this thing rotated around my head as it x-rayed. Once the scan was finished, they moved me to a hospital bed when I complained I felt sick to the stomach, which I blamed on the substance they had injected me with. I rested in there alone, which was fine by me, but then I sensed something was wrong, and out of instinct reached out and found Joey. "... not sure it's a tumor?" Margaret asked the doctor and technician while Joey immediately started explaining to me they really didn't seem to know what they found. Through Joey's eyes, I examined the computer screen that displayed the results of the scan, and as the technician varied the views, I started getting a sense of where this supposed tumor was located inside my head. "Joey, I'm not sure of this, but I think that's where it hurts when I overexert my telepathy." "So you don't think it's a tumor either?" Joey queried while asking the technician for a bigger view of the anomalous tissue in question. "I don't know. You said yourself they don't know what it is. If it doesn't look like a regular tumor to them, then maybe its something to do with telepathy." "Sarah says none of the other telepaths she had CAT scans done on ever showed anything like this." "You're talking to her about this?" I angrily thought to him. "Can you think of any other doctor who might know more about the medical aspects of telepaths?" he bluntly thought back. I broke off my link with him and muttered, "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here in the first place." Having at least found forming simple links wasn't causing me any further discomfort, I started scanning some of the other resident doctors for information about tumors. Brain tumors are pretty dangerous things to have. While this supposed tumor wasn't in the exact center of my brain, it was deep enough to rule out any kind of surgery to remove it. The absence of any symptoms before the attack, its location, and the doctor's uncertainty all made me think what they were seeing was a result of the depletion of sugar in that area of my brain. Of course when I tried to pass that idea through a couple of doctors' minds, they all rejected it since they couldn't fathom the brain using glucose at such a high rate like that. Brain cells would die from hypoxia (lack of oxygen) long before the lack of glucose would. Of course that was always based on something blocking the flow of blood to those cells. At least they were able to help clear my sinuses and relieve my headache, which was the reason I had come there in the first place. And I also learned my venous sinuses (cavities in the skull that act like wide blood drainage canals) were larger than average, but the doctor who pointed this out also said he had seen larger. After many hours of consultation with other doctors, a new prognosis was starting to gain favor, especially with me. The golf ball size area which they were detecting was similar to scar tissue, but no one had seen scar tissue so deep in the brain, so localized, and without any symptoms beyond the pain which was not even noticeable any more. What cinched it for me was the comment it looked like something had burned out part of my brain somehow. While these doctors didn't know anything about telepathy, I did know from past experiences that whatever tissues in the brain responsible for telepathy used sugar for their energy source. I deduced that in my case those tissues could even steal the sugar from surrounding tissues when needed. All those times I had strained my telepathy until it hurt believing I was strengthening my abilities, I had actually been killing brain cells by depriving them their supply of glucose, the type of sugar the body and brain actually burns. The result: My brain had a dead spot. I was feeling pretty drowsy after all the drugs they had given me kicked in, but at least I only had a mild soreness left by the time we got back to the Connors' house that evening. Joey had some sort of Group thing the next day, so I was seriously considering just have a limo pick me up and have another driver drive my car back. But with Suzi planning to make the trip to school the day after, Joey talked me into letting someone else drive me home in my own car and then they'd come back with Suzi. The next morning my driver arrived promptly at nine. I had expected an Eta, but Joey had wanted someone with voice, and more importantly, someone he trusted. "Neil Rhine, Tim Brandton. Tim, Neil," Joe introduced us formally in his living room. What to say about Neil... Hmmm.. Well, he was oriental in heritage, but born and raised in America as had been his parents before him. He was as tall as I was, had a roundish youngish face, yellowish tan skin, perfectly straight black hair, and while not up to Eta standard, he was quite muscular in build. We shook hands with the regular exchange of pleasantries, and I noted he avoided looking me in the eyes, something that was becoming a regular occurrence with people who knew of my empathic abilities but hadn't experienced me using them. Despite myself, the sense of friendship between Joey and Neil stirred some feelings of jealousy in me. I could feel they shared secrets that Joey couldn't share with me. Was it due to their friendship, or were they just secrets of the Group? I didn't know, and I made a point not to look into it. My purple feelings were somewhat dispelled a short while later when Joey and I exchanged manly hugs while Joey only gave Neil a friendly pat on the back. Of course that might have been due to the fact he would be seeing Neil again the next day. Neil was verbally impressed with my car to my chagrin. He loved all the buttons and gadgets, and especially made a big deal about the CD player, which I think I had used maybe twice up to that time. When he mentioned he wished he had brought some of his CDs with him, I suggested we stop by his place so he could do so. I didn't have to suggest it twice, and while I didn't go inside with him, I got the impression his apartment wasn't as nice as the one Joey and Suzi had gotten me. It was one of those larger apartment buildings with three floors and dozens of individual apartments of varying sizes. He brought out six CDs, all of which I liked, even the four I had never heard before. I think I drifted in and out of consciousness after a while, but I always seemed to snap awake when he changed CDs. I don't think either of us realized we were doing it, but we both had avoided topics concerning Joey. But after finishing our lunch without saying much, I was a bit surprised when we got back on the highway and Neil didn't start up another CD. I could tell Neil was gearing himself up to say something he was uncomfortable about bringing up, so I wasn't surprised when he suddenly broke the silence saying "You're not going to hold what the Doc and the rest of us did to you against Joey, are you?" "Of course not," I said a moment before realizing he had been one of the attackers. "He didn't know, and you were just following orders." Several minutes of silence passed. "Joey's worried you won't come back after what happened. I personally couldn't blame you if you didn't." I sensed an understatement in his words. "I don't know what I'm going to do," I said in all honesty. More silence. "I've never had a friend like Joey before. You're lucky to have known him so long." "Yeah, well... You're pretty lucky too. From what Joey's told me, you two have had some pretty outrageous times together." "What has he told you?" "Shit, what hasn't he told me. No offence, but when he was staying with me before Christmas, I got sick of him constantly talking about what you and he did together the past four months." "Really?" he exclaimed, followed by an explosion of laughter. "What?" I said, finding his laughter full of relief as well as humor. "From the day I met him, all Joey could ever talk about was what you and he did in high school!" he gurgled. "Really?" I exclaimed myself before finding the humor of the whole thing and chuckled. "Yeah really!" he said wiping his eyes. "I got to the point where I wanted to barf every time I heard the name Tim." "Shit. I only had to endure a week of 'Neil, super bud.' I can't imagine what months would be like." "Yeah, he drove me crazy with it, but I couldn't tell him it did. He gets so ...." "Excited," I finished for him. "Yeah. Exactly... Wow," he exclaimed as it all sank in. "You can say that again." More silence as we both wondered what stories Joey had told about each other. "You know what we should do?" Neil prompted. "What? Oh... Yeah." "Only seems fair." "Want me to go first?" "Excellent." For the rest of the trip we traded stories about what Joey had told us about each other and sometimes gave our own versions. Nothing really embarrassing came up, not that we limited ourselves in that fashion. I guess you could say we bonded that way, and the more I got to know him, the easier it was to see him as one of us. Yet to this day can't explain what it was about him that made me feel that way. He was different, yet he was the same. ---------------------------------- I had Neil drive my car into the garage and park it near the door leading into the North Mansion. Servants immediately showed up, and one of my dad's part-time nurses made me get in the wheelchair she had brought while my luggage was taken in and my car was taken over to the cleaning station where it was vacuumed out and later probably washed. Neil was rather shocked by all this. He had known of my dad's wealth and wasn't the least bit surprised by the size of the North Mansion or its grounds, but Joey apparently had never mentioned the enslaved servants my parents had. He was just getting over that when my mom showed up in her birthday suit and he witnessed our hug and kiss. Not that our hug and kiss was inappropriate or anything. It was just your standard mother and son squeeze and peck on the lips. No tongue or anything like that. Just a quick smooch on the old facial puckers. Joey used to kiss his grandma like that. My mom's nudity made Neil uncomfortable, and while I sympathized, I wasn't about to ask my mom to put some clothes on or send her away. And after I introduced Neil to her and told her a little about him, I teased them both with the suggestion they get to know each other a little more intimately while I took my next dose of pills and probably pass out. I actually did dose off once the pills started kicking in again. When I awoke I found Suzi had come over, but she had already left and had taken Neil with her without me having been able to thank him for the trip and all. My mom was gone too, but she had told me earlier she was going to meet some of her old co-workers for dinner and probably wouldn't be back until late that night. I laid around watching TV until it was time for dinner, and then went to the dining room for some grub even though I wasn't really hungry. My head was a little cloudy from my medication, so I didn't really concern myself with the uncomfortable feelings I got whenever I passed someone in the halls on my way down. I just thought it was the medication making me feel odd. I was the first to arrive in the dining room, and I waited patiently for ten or fifteen minutes for my dad and Richie to show up before asking the regular dinning room attendant Jillian about them. She explained that my mom had fed Richie before she had left, and my dad had had his dinner brought to him in the south wing's study. After I had her verify that my dad had requested his meal in the south wing's study, this startling news lifted the fogginess in my head, and my empathic senses quickly focused on the source of the discomfort I had been having around others. My dad at that time had around thirty five women serving him, some of them only part time, less than half of them living within the walls of the North Mansion, but all programmed to need his cock inside them to keep them happy and satisfied with their job, and to some extent even their life. The men who served my dad were motivated differently, but most of the servants had sex with each other periodically, probably about half of them having sex with one or two others on a regular basis, and generally they were all pretty happy bunch. Oh, individuals had the usual up and downs when relationships formed or broke up, but for the most part my dad's enslaved servants were quite content with their lives. But Jillian was under a lot of personal stress, and I quickly discovered virtually everyone else was as well. It seemed my dad hadn't fucked any of his fuck slaves for over two weeks, and the women were getting so depressed about this that it was depressing the men as well. After forcing myself to eat a hamburger, I checked on Richie who I found playing with some of the servant's kids around his own age. I thought that was a great idea, and told the parents so with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. But when they mentioned they thought it would help cheer him up, it obviously meant to me that Richie had not been excluded in the increasingly depressive atmosphere. I managed to get a hug and kiss from my little brother before leaving him with his playmates and headed towards the south wing. I found my dad still in the south study, lounging on a couch in the dark wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt while talking business to someone on the phone. He acknowledged my presence, yet he continued to focus his attention on the phone conversations he had with the untold number of people he called or got transferred to. Even without my empathic abilities I would have known he was trying to avoid talking to me about what I obviously was there to talk about. But I wasn't going to let this go on any further without at least getting an explanation of what it was all about. I was kicking myself for not having done so before leaving for Central State, and since my mom wasn't available and something had to be done about his lack of concern for his slaves' state of minds, I just patiently waited him out, knowing he couldn't talk forever. During my wait I wondered where the twins were. I quickly tried to seek out Sherman only to find he wasn't on the estate. I learned through some of the other servants that my dad had sent Sherman and the twins to England, and got the impression the twins put up quite a fight before my dad apparently did or said something which put them in their place and they left without any further trouble. That troubled me immensely. I don't know of anything that would have broken the twins resolve to stay and help him when he obviously needed their council. And it was a simple fact that my dad loved those two more than he did me. What possible chance did I have in getting him to level with me and listen to my opinion if the twins for whatever reason couldn't? After taking a deep breath and holding it for as long as I could, I let it out saying," Dad... I just want to know what's going on." After a long pause, my dad said into the phone "I'll get back to you tomorrow, Wan," and hung up. "Is your mother still out?" he finally asked. "Yeah. She said she'd probably be late tonight." "How's Richie?" "He's having a ball with his new friends. Why don't we go see him?" "No, that's all right." "Why?" "I don't want to disturb him while he's having fun," he made up on the spot. "You sent the twins and Sherman to England." "Yes." "No reason, you just sent them?" "The girls were getting overly protective of me, and Sherman wasn't helping. They'll be back in a few weeks." "Overly protective?" "They wouldn't leave me alone! I'm not going to justify my reasons in my own house!" "What is WRONG with you? Ever since Christmas, you and mom have been... What is it that's making you two act like ... like ... two selfish children? And why are you purposely letting the entire house suffer from your stupid pouting?" "Pouting!?!" he cried with anxiety. "You think I'm pouting?" "What else do you call it?" I said forcefully while scrambling to define the emotions behind his words. "How many times have you told me how important it is to give slaves whatever they are conditioned to need to keep them happy and productive? I've never thought of you as a hypocrite." "Timothy? I am not a hypocrite! You... You... You just wouldn't understand! ..... I'm going to bed! Good night!" I bared his way and as calmly as I could I said to his face, "Not until you tell me what you and mom are fighting about." "I can't tell you, and that's the truth. You have to ask your mother. Now get out of my way before I make you!" The sudden anger and frustration behind his threat startled me enough to comply with his demand, but not before I noticed the exhaustion on his face, especially around his eyes, in the dim light. I had the strong suspicion he wasn't going to get any sleep despite he obviously needed it. I could see that something to do with my mom was eating away at him, something that he either was blaming himself for or had resigned that he was powerless to stop. I decided I would ask my mom the moment she got back, but I doubt she would know why my dad was ignoring his obligations to the people he had forced to need his attention. I mean, if he didn't want to fuck 'em, he could easily enough change their programming so it wouldn't make them so unhappy going with out it. This is why I wasn't willing to just wait for my mom to learn anything more. If there was anyone besides my mom and the twins who would know what was going on with him, it would be his right hand man. "Sherman? This is Tim." "Oh hello, sir," he said somewhat enthusiastically. "I'm afraid the twins are currently indisposed at the moment. Would you like me to ring you back when they ...?" "No, no... I called to talk to you." "I see... Is it that bad?" he said, dropping the forced sound of optimism in his voice. "Depends on how bad you expect it to get." "Sir... Believe me when I say I truly am just as concerned with the Master's... problems, and I am quite distraught with worry about how the staff are handling it, but... I must not interfere if he does not wish me to." "Interfere? I'm not asking you to interfere. Just tell me what you know about why he's... shit, what's the word for it? Negligence? Abuse? Irrespons--" "Sir! I protest! He has done everything he can to..." "What? Sherman, for pity sake, tell me!" "Master Timothy, I'm sorry, but to _say_ anything more, no matter what I _think_, would be an act of betrayal to your father. Do you understand?" "I believe so," I said, already trying to feel his mind out. "But I'm having some trouble... Could you explain it to me?" "Certainly sir. Since I was acquired by you father, I have worked very hard to prove to him I was more than just a reliable and competent servant, but someone who he could confide in, talk to, bounce ideas off of, and in summary, be his friend without the usual complications. My entire childhood was structured in such a way so I would find it easy to accept my position and to place the honor to serve with loyalty and perseverance above any other selfish indulgences like collecting wealth or engaging in relationships with the opposite sex. I believe I have been most fortunate serving your father. I quite honestly don't know how my life could have been any more productive..." "Sherman, are you sure you don't want to say what my dad's problem is before I go?" I interrupted him when I finally made contact with his mind. "I'm quite sure, Master Timothy. But I hope I have enlightened you otherwise." "Shit. Uhm, yeah, you have. Thanks, Sherman. Thanks a lot. I'm not sure what I'll do, but... I'll figure out something." "I'm sure you will, sir. Thank you for calling." "Thank you, Sherman. You really are my dad's best friend." I hung up to save him from what would probably be a long winded response, then gently rubbed my temples in circles as I fought the return of an ache from some of the drugs starting to run low while considering what if anything I could do to consol my father about his... Uhm... problems. Problems. Plural. The first of which was his inability to get any sleep, which apparently directly caused the second problem of his voice being too weak to work on anyone. The third, however, was the most significant problem, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it directly, and confronting him about it or even letting him know I knew would most likely only depress him even more. So I waited for my mom to get home. I still didn't know what the conflict between them was about, but I knew whatever it was, it was the source of my dad's three problems. It was after three in the morning when her new red custom limo pulled into the garage. When she got out a little unsteadily, then giggled slightly to herself, I was too shocked for words or action finding her a bit tipsy from the drinks she had drunk. "Hello, sweetie Timmy..." she cooed as she approached. "Did you wait up just to see your mother to bed?" "Something like that," I said coolly as she gave me a limp hug, and then licked my earlobe teasingly. "Oh, I've had such a wonderful night..." she sighed, stroking the back of my head gently while she laid her head on my left shoulder. "I feel like I'm twenty again..." "You want me to help you get to bed?" I asked gently, sensing nothing but her love and trust in her otherwise suggestive actions, and also finding she was too drunk to reason with so questions would have to wait until morning. "Would you dear?" she purred. "Just you and me, like when you were little?" I hadn't meant sleeping together, but this was my mom. I believed that no matter how drunk she was, she would see me as her son first, and as a male second. And I really didn't have anything to worry about. She laid down on the bed when we got there, then passed out fully clothed. I undressed her down to her underwear since she would have ruined her outfit if I had let her sleep in it, then after several minutes of indecision, I went to my own room to sleep alone. My head felt like shit when I woke up the next morning, but after I got some of the drugs in me, I knew I'd feel more or less human in an hour, so I went back to my mom's room and cuddled up to her and fell asleep again. Richie woke me up by crawling on top of me, but he too was a cuddler in the mornings and we both fell asleep with him lying on top of my belly and chest. No matter how many times it happened to me, it was always embarrassing to wake up with my morning stiffy and have my mom notice it. This was no exception, but to make matters worse, my baby brother woke up and started to crawl off to cuddle with my mom, stopping and turning around when his foot accidentally found the tent pole in my shorts. Richie grinned and immediately started pulling on his little dick, then said, "Timmy, do it. Do it." "No, Richie. Now cut that out. You're not supposed to do that in front of mom!" "Mommy?" Richie mewed to her for confirmation. "You do it if you want to, baby. I don't mind." "Mom!" "He's only a baby, Timmy. He'll want to do it in private when he starts doing it for real." "How can you be so sure? You don't know what he might remember by that time." She smiled gently then, as Richie climbed up and into her arms, I saw it in her eyes. "I did not!" "You did too. I imagine all little boys do. You don't remember a lot of things." "Like what?" I asked, somewhat afraid of the answer. "Well... Like you used to love pineapples. You never got tired of pineapples." "Yuk." "Mommy, pineapples?" Richie murmured. "Yes, baby. You like pineapples too." "Yuk," he stated, and then turned his head towards me to seek my approval. I grinned at him and shook my head back and forth as I moved to butt my nose against his, then after smashing our noses together a few moments, I rose up and gave him a raspberry on his back making his squeal. "MMM... I do like them raspberries though," I joked before giving him another. I felt every ounce of her discomfort and depression in her short sigh, naturally bringing my attention to the problem at hand, which she saw on my face to be the next subject of the morning. "Did he tell you?" she asked. "Who dad? No. I asked, but he said he couldn't tell me, that I had to ask you." "He would," she said with contempt in her voice. "Are you going to tell me or not?" I said, suddenly angry at the both of them for letting this get so out of hand. "Now isn't the best time," she said carefully while hugging Richie who's eyes were wide with confusion. "Too bad," I said more calmly for Richie's sake. "I told dad you two were acting like children, and looks like I was right. If it's so terrible for Richie to hear, then you can think it to me, but I'm not going to wait any longer." "All right! I was planning on telling you both today anyway. On Monday I'm going back to work." "For how long?" "I don't know... Until I decide to retire probably." "Oh.. Uhm... Why?" "Uhg! Why is it so hard to believe I might actually enjoy working for a living?" "That's not what I meant," I said crossly. "I just meant why now? Are you that bored?" "Bored? Well... No..." "Then what? Is Dad giving you a hard time about being the money maker?" "No..." she sang with irony. "Just the opposite." "Ah... So that's what you're arguing about." "We're not arguing any more. He's just pouting because he knows he can't stop me." "When's the last time you saw him?" "Saw him? I don't know. He's been such a shit head about it that I've been staying clear of his... business." "So you've been ignoring him," I snapped. "Tim, I don't like your tone of voice," she said warningly. "Your father is acting like a spoiled brat who only cares about getting his own way. I am not going to give in to his stupid pouting because I don't want to live my life in his mother's image." "Who says he does?" "Oh you should hear his list of things I don't do right. Letting Richie nurse until he stopped on his own was only the beginning, and he still thinks I somehow weaned Richie without letting on I was doing it." "He's only trying to give Richie the things he had and loved as a kid," I prompted. "I know some of those things would be pretty ridiculous for you to do, but..." "Oh, so you think I should suck on my baby boy when he's unhappy or he's having trouble falling asleep?" "Oh come on, Mom. They can't all be that bad." "No?" she snorted. "Apparently you don't know your father a fraction as well as you think you do. A month ago, in the middle of sex, he had Richie come in and nearly got him to enter me from behind. And then he tried it again the next night, and the night after that... He's obsessed with this concept that Richie needs to fuck me for me to be a good mother to him." "Mommy, I don't yuck you..." Richie whimpered. "Oh sweety... I know you don't," my mom said, hugging him tightly and giving him a kiss. "You're a good boy, and I know you love me just as much as I love you. You're by little man. My precious little man." "I remember you used to call me that," I said somberly. "Well, back then, you were my little man. Timmy, you were all I had. Everything your father keeps trying to talk me into doing is something I at one time wanted to do with you, but I loved you too much that I never did. I need something to keep my perspective on what's good for him and I. That's why I feel I need to go back to work. I need a reminder to what it was like." "I understand, mom. Really I do," I said, finding her feelings similar to the original reasons I didn't want to move out to Central State. "But... What about dad?" "What about him?" "Uhm..." I hesitated, seeing Richie's attention was now following me closely. So I thought to her, "I don't think it's pouting, if that's even what it was to begin with. He hasn't slept properly in three weeks, he's so tired he can't focus enough to use his voice... And..." "And?" she thought back with a hardened expression on her face. "I don't know how to say it. He's so emotionally upset... Well, he... Uhm... He can't... You know..." "No I don't. What?" she snapped at me out loud. "He... can't... get it up." "What do you mean he can't get... Did he tell you this?" she asked suspiciously. "No. He wouldn't tell me anything. I ended up calling Sherman, and then he wouldn't say it either. I had to feel his mind out over long distance to find out." "Long distance? Where is he?" I gave her an incredulous expression before saying, "Dad sent him and the twins to England four days ago. You didn't know that?" "No. I did wonder why I hadn't seen the twins, but I thought they were simply staying close to Charles. My my my.... If it's true, maybe he really hasn't been playing a game." She then chuckled and added triumphantly , "Charles Richard Grodmen impotent? I never would have believed it." "Now who's being childish?" I pointed out. "Daddy sick?" Richie asked me with a worried expression and his thumb in his mouth. "Yes, Richie, he's sick," I admitted to him with my mom's disapproval. "Mommy... Go make daddy better?" Richie asked sweetly. "I don't think I can, honey," she said with reservation. "Does daddy need his mommy?" "Yeah, that's probably what he wishes for right now," I answered him. "Mommy, be daddy's mommy... Please?" "Richie, I can't. I can't be Daddy's mommy." "Please, Mommy?" "No! I can't, and that's that!" "Why, Mommy?" Richie said in tears. "Because she isn't anything like my mommy, Richie," my dad said from the door startling all of us. "Daddy," Richie whimpered, sitting up and raising his hands out to him. "No, Richie. You stay here with your mother. Since I'm the reason she'll be leaving you eight hours a day, five days a week, I don't want you to miss any more of her company as you have to." "Damn it Charles! You're just making things harder again!" "Am I Sam? I'm not the one running away from her child to a job." "Daddy..." Richie cried insistently. "Well, I'm not the one who can't get it up when things don't go the way he wants!" "All I want is for my son to have a mother when he needs her!" "You want him to have a nymphomaniac, not a mother!" "Come on, Richie," I said evenly. "Time for me to introduce you to Jack Daniels." "Don't you dare!" my mom shouted. "Just try and stop me!" "He's just trying to shock us, Sam. He's not serious." "Ha! Just watch me, pop!" I said while taking my baby brother out of my mother's frozen hands and walking out of the room. "I want daddy," Richie whimpered to me in my arms. "I know you do," I said coarsely, focusing my mind on preventing them from following us. Dad was easy. In his state he couldn't command a fly to.. well, fly. But my mom... It's pretty hard to override another telepath's control of their own body for very long. I didn't dare violate my mom's mind with commands, for that would have been going too far, so I just did my best at causing her legs to trip over themselves, lockup, go numb, things like that. My dad never moved. He didn't believe I would do it. You don't believe I would do it either, do you? Well guess what. Not only did I get Richie so drunk that he puked, I got nicely plastered before my mom got so furious she tried commanding me to strip and lay across her lap so she could spank the shit out of me. Luckily for me, even with my reflexes impaired, I held off her assault. But afterwards I corked the bottle and waited for the rest of the fireworks. Richie was pretty sick, and for that I was truly sorry. I should have never made him believe the shots of Jack Daniels tasted like pineapple juice with a warm after taste. He really had drunk too much. Why did I do this? As I told them when they finally stopped yelling at me and each other long enough for me to do so, I did it because I'm their son, and I could be just as stubborn, thickheaded, and purposely hurtful as they were. As you would imagine, they both did a whole lot more yelling after I said that. Richie surprisingly didn't hold a grudge against me for getting him sick like that. Once I sobered up, I went to see him in his room. He immediately wanted me to hold him, and quite frankly I very much wanted to and did so. He was always so sweet when he didn't feel good or was upset. I think in this case it was both. Maybe it was a reckless thing for me to do, and I honestly didn't know if it would accomplish anything when I did it, but they had been keeping this whole thing to themselves too long and I just felt I had to rebel as if to punish them. It had just been the first opportunity that presented itself to do so. In any case, they were at least communicating again instead of avoiding each other. Communicating very loudly, in fact. They weren't hiding it at all any more, and I had never heard my mom talk so filthy in my life before. By the weekend, however, my dad had verbally relented to her decision to work, and in fact I found he was, for the most part, trying to give her what she wanted. But it was as plain as day that he thought she was a terrible mother for leaving her son to go to work when she didn't need to, and that just made my mom furious. On Sunday, the day before my mother would start back to her job, I found myself longing to see Joey and Suzi. Home just wasn't homey any more, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to pack things up and go. The only thing stopping me was Richie. I couldn't bear to leave him there with only servants to take care of him during the day while my mom and dad went to work. My dad hadn't actually gone to work for nearly a month, but he did spend a lot of time on the phone during the day. I found it somberly ironic that for weeks I had wanted to find some real reason not to go just to justify not wanting to, then when I actually wanted to go, I had this real reason not to. At least my dad found some relief from his sleeplessness. He was trying to get Richie to take a nap and was reading him a story his mom had read to him when he was little. Apparently it hadn't lost its magic, for when I checked on them, they both were sound asleep in Richie's king size bed which had been a Christmas present I forgot to mention before. My mom and I ate a late dinner together, both of us not saying much but we both felt like there was something we wanted to discuss. We watched TV together, ate a bowl of ice cream together, then when she decided it was time for her to go to bed so she could get up for work the next morning, I hugged her good night and told her good luck. I was in bed, almost asleep, when she came into my room and as quietly and, as gently as she could, got into my bed, not realizing I was still somewhat awake. When I heard her sniff, I woke up the rest of the way and turned to her saying, "What's wrong, mom?" "I don't know who's right any more. Me or him" she cried softly. I hugged her, not know what else to do or say, feeling somewhat tired of this old battle of wills and thus wanting to stay completely neutral. "You think he's right?" she asked me. "I don't know." "Do you think I'm right?" "I don't _know_," I said, letting her go and moving slightly away and laying on my back. We laid in silence for probably a good twenty minutes, and I think she had started to drift to sleep when I said, "Do you really want to know what I think?" "Yes," she said, snapping awake. "I think you want to go to work, not just to get away from 'temptation', but because you miss it." "Why on Earth would you think that?" she said, propping her head up with her arm. "I guess... Well, when you came home the other night a little drunk, you said you felt like you were twenty again. I thought maybe you miss having friends at work and all that." "I do a little," she admitted. "But when I _was_ twenty-three, I went to work because I had to support myself and you. I _hated_ leaving you in day care, and I swore I'd make it up to you some day, but I never felt I did... Do you think I'm a bad mother?" "No... You're a great mother. You've always come through for me when I needed you to. Just because you didn't spend every minute of my childhood with me doesn't make you a bad mom." "But what about now? Charles is right that I don't _need_ to work." "Mom? In all honesty, I think you should do whatever you really want to do. Richie isn't going to be left with strangers when you're not around. I'll be here, Dad can take off work whenever he needs to... Hell, I imagine the twins would make great baby sitters in a crunch, and there's always several of the staff who I'd trust in a blink of an eye. So if you really want to work, go work. There's plenty of time left in the week to be the best mom in the Universe." "But by whose definition? Yours?" she said with weak smile. "Nah. Richie's." She sniffed several times then leaned over and gave me a hug saying, "You're still my precious little man. I love you..." I awoke with a jolt, finding it after eight in the morning and my mom gone. "Well, I guess she went to work," I glumly stated to no one. I stretched, scratched myself, got up, and then sighed a resigned sigh, accepting I wasn't going to join Joey and Suzi after all. I drug my ass down the hall to Richie's room, then when I found it empty, I figured my dad had Richie either in his room, eating breakfast, or somewhere else. I didn't bother feeling out their location, just headed towards the master bedroom on the other end of the wing. I felt sorry for myself, feeling I had given up my own freedom for my moms, and stuff like that. The covers were in such a huge disarray it took me several long moments to realize that while my dad was certainly fast asleep in his bed, Richie was not there. I started to get a little concerned at that point, for Richie was pretty clingy, and it wasn't like him to leave one of us in bed in the morning unless it was to go and snuggle with another one of us. When I didn't find him back in my room, I felt him out, and to my surprise found him getting fed by our mother. "You're not going to work?" I asked her breathlessly after hightailing down to the dining room. "Nope. Not for a few more years, anyway. Why? Does that make you happy?" "Yeah it does! Does dad know?" I asked incredulously. "What, you didn't hear us?" "What? When? No! Why?" "Daddy's not sick," Richie explained. "Mommy made him all better." "You didn't..." "Well... I couldn't resist the challenge..." "What challenge?" "To see if I could cure impotency..." she said shrugging but with a smile forming on her lips. "So.... Does that mean you two have a new understanding about... What a good mother should do?" "Well, I though someone's advice to just let Richie decide what makes me a good mother would appeal to your father, so after I got him to promise not to try and push ideas into his head, I forgave him for being an es ach eye tea ach e ahe dee and started treating him for his you know what." "Timmy, what does es ach eye tea ach... uhm... what does that spell?" I looked at him a moment, then with a grin I said, "poophead." "Mommy, what's a poophead?" "Never mind, honey. I think your big brother needs to eat before he packs." "Pack? What for?" "Do _I_ have to spell it out for you?" she said, raising her right eyebrow like Joey's Mr. Spock imitation. "But.. I mean ... Holy shh ... Holy poop! Thanks Mom!" I cried before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and rushed out to start packing. "Aren't you going to eat?" she cried after me. "Later!" "Mommy, is Timmy a poophead?" "Oh Richie... Look, I'll tell you a secret. All men are poopheads." "Is me a poophead?" "No, not for a long time anyway. And I'm going to enjoy every minute until then." "Mommy?" "Yes baby?" "Is me a shithead?" "Eat," she groaned. "And hush." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+