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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 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. .
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.
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. . .
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. .
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. .
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.
.
