Chapter 5

Early Tuesday afternoon, Dad came home from work early, a wild look in his eyes. Within half an hour of getting home he had received three phone calls, and I think he also had a number of text messages and emails. And that was just in that time short time. He had also made half a dozen phone calls.

He took Mum into their bedroom and they were there for nearly half an hour before they called Joanne in. She worked in a school canteen, not my school, so she wasn’t working. Mum didn’t work. Ten minutes later Mum and Joanne left, and Dad called me in.

“Toby,” said Dad. “I’ve been trying and trying to delay the inevitable. I was hoping to delay it until May or June next year, because I wanted you to come with us. Now I find I can’t delay.” He took a deep breath. “I know all about you and Mrs Clarke and Talulah Evans. I know, understand and totally agree with her priorities. So I need to ask you a question.

“Do you want to take Mrs Clarke? In which case you’ll have to wait, or will you come with us? In which case you won’t be able to take her?”

“Mrs Clarke”, I said instantly.

He nodded slowly, a look of sadness, but also of understanding, on his face.

“Sorry,” I whispered. “But saving Talulah and her sister is very important to me. It has to be done right so that their father doesn’t get suspicious. If I pull out now it might mess up Mrs Clarke’s plans.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he said with a small sad smile. “You are definitely doing the right thing for her and for your friends. I know your mum will be sad though.”

“When are you going?”

“Tonight. There’s been an emergency and we need to leave fairly quickly.”

“Tonight?” I gasped, suddenly slightly scared. “Why? What’s happened?”

“In the last three days there’s been a bombing at a CAP testing centre in Texas, another in California and a third in New Jersey.”

“But that’s America. How does that affect us?”

“We don’t know. It might not, but after the second one, all complete pre-packs were advised to be ready for short-notice collection. About two hours ago I got notice that we would be collected at nine this evening and to be ready to go. We are complete now. We have eleven sponsors and we’ve sorted out all concubines and dependents. I was hoping you’d make the round dozen, but you’re not ready are you?”

“No. And I really do want to help Mrs Clarke and Talulah Evans.”

“All right. Let’s go downstairs.”

When I got downstairs I was surprised to see a male I didn’t know and a slightly younger woman.

“This is Michale and Rachel,” Mum told me. “He’s a good man and he’s taking Joanne.”

“Bonjour,” said the young man wirh a pleasant smile. “Hello.”

He was French, which at least partially explained my sister’s agreement. She was very much a Francophile.

Dad quickly picked up the keys to Mum’s MPV and left. He was back half an hour later with eight more people before rushing off once more.

A couple of hours later the house was full. Dad had done five trips, bringing about twenty-five people in total. The rest had either come by taxi or in a few cases had walked. Most had brought drinks and food, but nothing else. It had become a party.

Shortly before six in the evening, I suddenly realised that a few people were wearing less than they had been, and shortly after that most people were naked or close to it.

“You can if you want to,” Dad told me with a small smile. “But you don’t have to.”

“If I do?”

“Well, if you do, I’m sure there’ll be a few girls along to, erm, play with you shortly.” He grinned at me. Once again my jaw had dropped in surprise.

“Oh,” I gasped.

I looked around and was even more shocked to see Mum in just her knickers. To my utter amazement and, it has to be said, delight, Joanne was standing next to her dressed identically. I watched as they slowly stripped off. “Holy hell,” I muttered. I drank in the sight of my naked sister. She was a gorgeous as I’d always imagined.

Staring around I now saw that everyone was naked or almost naked, and those that weren’t quite naked, were heading that way rapidly. Most of the men had partial erections. Mine wasn’t partial. I was fully erect. That didn’t matter to me right then and I stripped off quickly.

Over the next hour and a bit I received five blow-jobs, three to completion, licked three pussies and fondled innumerable boobs and bums and pussies and female bodies in general. I saw lots of sex. Real sex. I saw Dad having sex with a woman I didn’t know, and I saw Joanne bouncing up and down on Michale, the man who was going to be her sponsor. She didn’t see me, but I watched her in awe for a while. Somehow her boobs were smaller than I had imagined, and she had a tiny tuft of pubic hair. She was as sexy as I’d imagined. I still wanted her and wondered whether I would get the chance this evening. I doubted it really, but I was going to try.

Then I saw Mum bent over the back of a chair and being fucked wildly, I had a slightly wicked thought. I made my way over to her and rubbed the head of my hard cock against her mouth.

She opened her eyes and looked up at me. “Hello Toby,” she said, and promptly sucked me into her mouth. Her mouth was an utter delight, but after a few seconds of this she pushed me away. She held onto my hard cock with her soft hands as she began to wail her orgasm from the pounding in her pussy.

After she had relaxed, and her paramour of the moment had pulled free of her, she looked up at me with a grin. “Thank you love. That was amazing.”

“But I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh yes you did. You gave me your cock to hold and taste.” She began to stroke my cock, gently wanking me. “We can’t have sex,” she said, “even though I want to.” She pulled my cock back into her mouth and gently sucked and licked, lightly fondling my balls at the same time. After about a minute, she let go of me and stood slowly up. Smiling at me she drew me into a big hug.

“I like the taste and the feel of your cock,” she whispered. “And I love the feel of it against my tummy.” She held me for a while, not speaking, then let go. “Go find someone else,” she whispered.

I watched as she went to Dad and gave him a hug. At the time he was getting a blow job from a girl who I would soon find out was one of his concubines. When Mum got to him he gently pushed the young girl away. For the first and only time I saw my parents making love. It wasn’t the euw experience I had expected. It was loving and touching and moving and tender and very beautiful.

I spotted Joanne on her own by the door, and wandered over to her. “Hey Jo.”

She looked at me expressionlessly and for a moment I thought her usual coldness towards me was in full force. But then she softened, smiled, and put her arm around me. I returned the favour. A few minutes later, Jo turned to me and pulled me into a hug.

“To my total surprise,” she said, “I find I’m going to miss you.”

“I know I’m going to miss you all.”

“I never hated you,” she said softly. “I did resent you at first, but I soon got over that. Then you were too young, then I was at college, now...” She sighed and hugged me even tighter.

“At first I was cross with you for wanting me, for perving after me, but as you never did anything to hurt or harm me I got over it. All I ever really tried to do was not encourage you. Not give you false hope. I don’t want to have sex with you. Or with Dad. Incest gives me the squicks, but I don’t hate you.”

“I don’t hate you, either,” I said. “I do love you, as a sister.”

“And I love you, as a brother.”

I gave a brief huff of amusement.

“What?” she asked.

“Mum’s just sucked my cock. She didn’t give me a full blowjob, I didn’t come, but she said she enjoyed it. I know I did.”

Jo gave a similar huff of amusement. “I can feel your cock against my tummy, and it feels nice.”

“Your boobs against my chest feel equally nice.” I felt her smile. Gingerly I placed my hands on her firm bum. “And you have a nice bottom,” I added softly.

She pushed gently back from me and looked at me with a half smile. After a moment she took gentle hold of my hard cock and began to stroke. I quickly followed suit and began to lightly fondle her boobs, teasing her nipples. When I bent down to suck one of them she gave a groan, squeezing my cock slightly.

I straightened up again and looked at her. Her face was slightly flushed.

“You do have a lovely cock,” she murmured. “And if you weren’t my brother I could probably learn to love it a lot. But you are my brother, and that does give me squicks.” There was a brief pause. “However.”

She kneeled down and took my cock into her mouth. I don’t think she was quite such an accomplished cocksucker as Mum, but she was good. After a few seconds she stood up, her face filled with desire.

“If you want to touch my pussy, now is the only chance you get.”

“Can I lick you?”

She just grabbed me and moved to the stairway. Sitting on the third stair up, she spread her legs wide and pulled my face between them.

I sucked and licked her labia and her clit. I stuck a couple of fingers inside her pussy, and I even played with her anal opening, “Oh oh oh oh oh,” she cried out, then she was coming. I kept licking her until she pushed me away. “Too sensitive” she gasped.

I watched her, my cock as hard as it had ever been, as she slowly relaxed. After a few moments she grinned at me.

“You’ve had a lot of practice. I wish I’d known.”

I shook my head. “I’ve licked three pussies. Four now. All of them today. You are the only one to actually come though.”

“Wow,” she gasped. “Then you’re a natural.”

Her legs were still wide apart, though not as wide as they had been. I reached over and began to lightly stroke her pussy and her tiny patch of pubic hair. Jo shook her head sorrowfully and closed her legs, lifting my hand gently away. “No more,” she whispered. “We’re not going to fuck, and if I let you do any more, you might get ideas, and things might get horrible.”

I gave her a sad smile. “Okay. Maybe you’re right. I think I do want you.”

Slowly Jo stood up, and I stood up alongside her. She pulled me into another hug, then surprised me by kissing me soundly. “I love tasting my pussy on someone else’s face,” she grinned.

I laughed with her. “Love you,” I whispered. “I will miss you all.”

“Well,” said Jo softly, mischief in her eyes, “after today you can have all my knickers whenever you want them.”

She gave me a peck on the cheek and then left me staring after her in stunned shock. She’d known all along?

I sat down heavily, not sure what to say or do. I don’t really know how long I had sat there when I heard Dad’s voice. “Twenty-five minutes,” I heard his raised voice. “Twenty-five minutes folks. Let’s make sure we’re all ready in good time.”

I stood and wandered into the living room. Mum spotted me and came hurrying over. She gave me a big hug. My erection was a thing of the past now, but neither of us cared about that.

“I’ll miss you so much,” she whispered, hugging me tight. “I’m so proud of you. I hope you succeed in what you’re planning with your teacher. I hope you do manage to rescue that poor girl.

I returned the hug. I would miss her desperately and could feel tears and real emotion start to well up in me. I felt her give a little, almost desperate, chuckle.

“What?”

“Joanne just spent ten minutes telling me what you did to her with your tongue. I almost came out here and pinned you down and made you do it to me. But that wouldn’t be a good idea. Joanne doesn’t want to have sex with you. I do but I also know we mustn’t. If I let you lick me, I’d just know I’d have to fuck you, let you fuck me. That’s a barrier we can’t cross, no matter how much I want to.”

I had to be honest. “I suppose you know I wanted Jo? I’ve wanted her for a while?”

Mum pushed me away from her and looked me in the eyes. “We guessed as much,” she said with a soft smile.

“I never did anything though.”

Mum grinned. “Well, that’s not quite true is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve all known about your little, er, penchant for Joanne’s and my knickers.” She pulled me into another hug. “Joanne was angry and upset at first, but soon got over it. I was worried rather than angry, but I did some research and soon got over it as well. After tonight, well, we won’t be here, and we leave naked, so,” she grinned at me and then gave me a kiss.

“I’ve got another little surprise for you as well,” she said with a grin after she pulled away from me.

“Oh?” I asked suspiciously.

“That’s for a little later. Now, did you enjoy your afternoon?”

I smiled. “Yes. Sort of.”

“Why only sort of?”

“I’m still a virgin.”

Mum gave a soft smile. “I did wonder. There were at least two girls in there who wanted to have sex with you, but they said you didn’t let them. Were you hoping for someone specific?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

Mum smiled wryly. “Joanne maybe?”

I sighed. “Or Mrs Clarke.”

“Not me?” she smiled at me coquettishly. It looked so funny that I had to laugh.

“Well, maybe.”

“All right love,” Mum said, stroking my cheek. “I was only teasing.” She lightly stroked my cock, not masturbating me, just fondling me.

“Just over fifteen minutes,” called Dad’s voice. “Can someone,” he paused and soon appeared next to me. “Hello Toby love, will you do me a favour please?” He must have seen what Mum was doing as her hand was still on my cock, but he ignored it. Mum just continued to lightly stroke and play with my erection while Dad spoke.

“Get dressed quick and run up to number thirty-seven as fast as you can. There’s twenty seven people there, mostly under thirteens. Bring them here as quick as you can.” He glanced at his watch. “You have about seven minutes. Go.”

I scrambled. Luckily I’d put my clothes to one side and was quickly dressed. I’d barely got to the front gate however when I saw a long gaggle of people heading towards us. I recognised the two at the front. They were twin sisters, a few months older than me, the daughters of one of Dad’s closest friends.

“Are you coming here?” I asked, seeing that most of the people behind her were youngsters, but at the rear were three older people, including the twins’ parents.

They nodded together. “Yes,” they both said in unison.

“Oh, right, come on. Dad says there’s not much more time.”

The group all came in. The house was jam packed now.

Dad caught me as I came in. “Take all the under fourteens up to my bedroom. It’s the safest place for them at the moment, and it’s the biggest room upstairs. Find out who are the eldest, the twelve and thirteen-year-olds, and tell them to make sure none of the younger ones leave until they are called. Okay?”

I nodded and quickly led the group upstairs. I found two twelve-year-olds and two thirteen-year-olds, a boy and three girls, and explained what they had to do. “It won’t be for very long,” I assured them. I just hoped that was true.

I wandered back downstairs and noticed some of the adults tidying up the kitchen and living room. I was grateful. I’d have to finish off I guessed, but at least it was started. I also noticed that many people had started to dress again. Including both Jo and Mum.

There was a loud banging on the front door and, as I was next to it, I turned to open it. In any case I was, almost, the only adult fully dressed: Dad and one other bloke were fully dressed.

I opened it to find a couple of young men. They made me seem tiny, though I am five foot nine. The one at the front smiled. “Mr Simpson?”

“You want my dad,” I said, waving them to enter. They came in, closed the door, and to my surprise, locked it.

“Is there a back door?”

I nodded and took them through to the kitchen. Mum and another woman were outside sorting stuff into the rubbish bins. I poked my head through the door. “Mum?” I called. “You need to come inside.”

The two looked at me, dumped everything onto the floor, and hurried in. “Sorry love,” said Mum. “You’ll have to finish sorting that later.”

I nodded and one of the men closed and locked that door too. “No patio doors or anything like that?”

Both Mum and I shook our heads. “Just front and back doors, there’s no connecting door to the garage either,” Mum told them.

“Good. Make sure all the downstairs curtains and blinds are closed please. We quickly did so while one of the men opened a brief case and pulled out a large folded disk of material. “Stand clear,” he said.

He put it down in the middle of the kitchen floor. It turned red and moments later two women appeared on it. Both were as large as the two men, but still managed to look very attractive. One of the women and one of the men stayed by the disk. The other two herded those still in the kitchen into the living room. To say it was a little uncomfortable is an understatement. There were, I knew from what Dad had told me earlier, forty-five adults, excluding me and the Confederacy newcomers. Eleven sponsors with all their concubines. Their dependents were all upstairs.

The two newcomers stopped at the door and just looked in. “Fuck,” I heard the man say. “Hadn’t realised it was going to be quite this packed.”

Dad, who was at the front, spoke up. “This was the biggest place we could go and still be reasonably central to everyone who was coming.”

They nodded but otherwise ignored him.

“Might as well go alphabetically on sponsor surname,” the woman said. Her colleague nodded.

“Okay folks,” she spoke up. “My name is Connie, this is Dan. You all know why you’re here. We are going to call you out, one sponsor at a time, in alphabetical order. You must show your CAP card,” there were a few panicky noises at that. “You were told to bring your CAP card. Does anyone NOT have it here?”

For a moment no one said anything. “I’ve brought it with me, but it’s in my coat pocket and I can’t find my coat.” That was a male voice, but I didn’t recognise it, nor did I see who had spoken.

“Well anyone who’s not got it to hand had better find it before they are called,” Connie said crossly. “That should have been obvious. You were told you needed it, so you knew you would have to present it. It should be in your hand. I’ll give you all two minutes to find your cards. After that, tough.”

I think she actually gave them closer to five minutes before speaking up again.

“Right. Michael Adams and four. Out here please.”

Five people pushed their way out. The four women were wearing only their knickers; the man was fully dressed. From the sounds in the living room, it sounded like there were still a couple of people without their cards to hand.

I watched from the door as Connie spoke to the five. “Cards please,” she said calmly. Five cards were produced. She scanned them with some device, then nodded. She looked at the male. “Michael Adams, you have accepted service in the Confederacy. Do you still accept?

He nodded.

“Speak up please.

“I do.”

“Thank you.” She turned to the concubines, “Do each of you understand what you are getting into? What you will be accepting if you go with Michael here?”

They all nodded.

“You are, in effect, his property, his slaves, to do with as he pleases. You have few rights, technically not even to food, water or air, but you do have responsibilities. Do you all understand?”

They nodded again, slower this time.

“That said, if your master, your owner doesn’t treat you reasonably, that shows in his character and he may find himself reduced in score, even to becoming a concubine himself.” She looked at Mr Adams. “Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Good. In that case please introduce me to your concubines, one at a time.”

As each concubine was introduced, Connie asked a similar question. “Do you accept Michael Adams as your sponsor, with all the responsibilities and duties that entails?”

Each said they did. One was his wife while the others did not appear to be related to him. They had different surnames, anyway.

“Do any of you have any dependents?”

“Three, they are all upstairs.”

She nodded and looked at me. “I understand you’re not going? Is that correct?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good. Stand at the bottom of the stairs, take the names of the dependents for each family group, then go and get them. Only the ones named though. No one else.”

“Okay.”

I was given the names, and went upstairs. The thirteen year old boy who had been acting as one of my monitors, and two other boys, one about eight, the other about five, followed me down.

“Right,” said Connie when the kids had arrived. “Concubines strip please and then all of you follow Dan into the kitchen.”

To my surprise, one of the women looked at me and winked as she slipped off her knickers. The five left, all four of the women dropping their knickers into my hands as they passed me. “Look after these for me,” the one who had winked said with a smile. Another grinned at me; the others just nodded. Connie looked a little surprised, no less than I was, but said nothing.

“John Franklin and two,” she called moments later.

John Franklin had his wife and her sister. They also had three dependents. Like the first group, the two women gave me their knickers, one giving me a kiss as she did so.

Next came Peter Hall and four, plus two dependents, then Andrew Jacobs and four. No dependents. All eight concubines gave me their knickers, three with a kiss or a hug as well.

Pauline Lipp and two. Plus three dependents. I was only expecting, well half expecting, one pair of knickers, but as she passed me, Pauline raised her skirt and slipped off her knickers, flashing her clean-shaven pussy at me. “Look after these,” she said with a laugh, giving me a smooching kiss.

Graham Morris plus four. This was the family that had been up the road with the kids. Graham was taking his wife, his twin daughters, and a friend of his wife. Connie was a little surprised, but as she asked the questions of each of them, I realised I knew exactly why this had been the family looking after the kids, even though they actually weren’t the ones who lived there.

Dad, and probably a number of others, did not approve of incest, though they accepted, reluctantly I suspect, that the Confederacy did allow it. If this family had been in with the orgy, it might have caused a bit of bother; but Dad had probably also been afraid it might give people ideas. I thought I now knew what a well-fucked woman looked like. The twins both looked well fucked and very satisfied. Actually, so did Graham’s other two women as well. I would have given a lot to have seen Graham fucking his daughters, Samantha and Alexandra.

Connie seemed to want to be absolutely sure, and asked both the twins three times if they were absolutely sure they wanted to be the sex slave of their own father. At the third asking, Samantha took her father’s hand and stuck it inside her knickers. Alexandra stuck her own hand into her father’s trousers, and was obviously holding his cock. “Yes.” They both said together.

I went and got their two dependents, but I was a bit worried now. The oldest dependent was now a nine-year old, and she was looking after eight other dependents, including two four-year-olds who were just starting to look like they might start a tantrum.

First Samantha then Alexandra gave me a smooching kiss as they gave me their knickers. Their mother and her friend had just given me a smile. Along with their knickers of course. “Be very careful with those particular knickers,” Alexandra whispered to me. “There’s a present inside them I think you’ll like. A lot.” She and her sister gave a little giggle and scurried off. The twins were very pretty. Very sexy.

“Michale Olwyn and two.” Joanne was one of the two. As she passed me she gave me a huge hug. “When I give you my knickers, will you put them on for me please?”

“Um,” I gasped.

“Please?” she whispered, hot tears running down her cheeks and onto my neck.

“Yes.” I said.

She relaxed the tight hug, and even before Connie had started to talk she had taken her knickers off and passed them to me. With a deep, shaky, breath I stripped off and put them on. Both Connie and Dan looked at me in complete surprise. A few other people looked at me in surprise also, but most just smiled, a few of the women even blowing wolf whistles or clapping.

“She’s my sister,” I said.

Connie just stared at me.

“And no,” I said, suddenly thinking I knew what she was thinking. “We don’t, we have never had sex.”

“Okay.” Connie turned to Michale, Jo’s sponsor, and began her normal spiel. There were no dependents.

Jo gave me another hug as she left. “I’ll miss you,” she said.

“I’ll miss you too. Love you.”

She smiled. “Love you too. I now almost, but only almost, wish we had had sex.”

John Reed plus two and one dependant was next, both women giving me hugs and kisses along with their knickers.

Dad was called next, but when he came out, he came out alone. “Would you mind if we went last?” he asked Connie. “This is, was, our home and it’s our son that will be staying. “We’d just like a few moments alone, at the end, to say goodbye.”

Connie looked at him for a moment. “All right.”

She called for Stewart Thackerey plus four and one dependent, then Steven Walters plus two and three dependents. Again all six women gave me a hug and a kiss along with their knickers. Two of them even fondling my panty covered cock.

The last four dependents, one boy and three girls between four and eight, were all sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting. But now it was only Mum and Dad plus three other women, two of whom I did vaguely recognise from Dad’s office.

“I’ve left my wallet in the bedside table,” Dad told me, “along with my debit card and pin. There’s no balance on my credit card so I’ve cut it up just to be safe. It’s in an envelope along with your mother’s. Please send them back to the bank.”

I nodded.

“There should be about fifty quid in my wallet, there’s nearly a thousand in the bank. Be frugal. It won’t last long.” I nodded again. He grinned at me. “Go around and see how many wallets and purses you can find from people who have just left. You might find a bit more. Go through everything carefully. If it looks valuable, get someone, Mrs Clarke maybe, to help you sell it. You’ll need the money. The mortgage is paid for the next year, but you might have to think about selling up well before then. The gas and electric will easily eat into what funds you do have, so it’s even more important that you turn everything off.”

Dan interrupted him. “We have a package of help for people like him. If he’s careful it alone should keep him going for about eighteen months to two years.”

Dad looked at him with gratitude. “Thank you.”

He turned back to me and gave me a hug. “I love you,” he said with a whisper.

“Love you too Dad.”

Then it was Mum’s turn. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, hugging me close. She slipped off her knickers and handed them to me. She didn’t have to ask. I knew. I slipped Joanne’s off, and slipped Mum’s on. “Thank you love,” she whispered, looking at me as I slowly erected. Then she hugged me one more time. I pressed my silky nylon covered cock against her naked belly. “I do want you,” I whispered.

“I know,” she replied. “And that’s why we can’t. I want you as well.” It was true. In that moment I had realised that no matter how much I had wanted Jo, I had wanted my mother more. What’s more, Mum had known of my desires long before I had known.

I felt Mum slip her hand onto my cock. She held it tight. “The truth is love, I’ve wanted your cock ever since I found out you wanted my knickers.”

“I thought I wanted Joanne.”

“You did, but we both knew you wanted me more, but, because you hadn’t realised, there was nothing we could do.”

I looked at her in surprise. “You mean, if I had known I’d wanted you,”

“Yes,” she said, interrupting me. “But only since we got our CAP scores. If you had decided to come with us, we would have suggested you take an older woman, and I would have volunteered. If you had said yes, you and I might have been making love since then. Now it’s too late.”

She didn’t react even slightly when I slipped one hand between her legs and tried to stroke her pussy.

“What about Dad?” I asked after a few moments. Her pussy felt warm and wet.

“He knew. He wasn’t best pleased, but he wouldn’t have done anything. He loves us both and would have accepted it. He didn’t want Jo and Jo didn’t really want him. She wouldn’t have been opposed to it had it been necessary, but didn’t want it. Likewise she wouldn’t have been totally opposed to going with you, but didn’t really want that either.”

She looked at me with a sad smile. “You and me, however, that’s totally different. If things had fallen out differently I’d have been more than happy to go with you. Your father and I both recognised that you should have an older woman and Greg would easily have found someone to replace me.”

“I can’t give you any time now,” Connie said quietly. “We are already way over time. We should have been finished half an hour ago.”

“That’s okay,” said Mum. “Even if we had time, I wouldn’t want to do it now.”

Connie nodded her understanding, then looked at Dan. “Gotta do it a different way next time. This way is too time consuming.”

Dan nodded his agreement. “Need to get going guys.”

Mum gave me one last, brief, tight hug, and then let go of me, releasing my cock reluctantly. She stepped back, pulling herself free of my hand, and gave me another look. “I’m so glad I’ve seen you in my knickers at long last,” she said with a sad smile. “And held and tasted your cock.” She walked through to join Dad and his other concubines.

Connie went through the routine with Dad and his new family. I called the last of the dependents down, and two minutes later they were all gone. Once again the four women giving me a hug and a kiss. And their knickers. I already had Mum’s of course. I watched them as they went through the transporter. I smiled at Mum. Love you, I mouthed. Then my eyes locked onto Dad’s just as they all vanished. Connie and her female colleague went through and Dan quickly folded the mat up and put it back in the suitcase. Then they too were gone.

I wandered around the house for a few minutes, turning as much off as I could, then went and lay on my bed. Almost before I was aware of the feelings inside me, of the emotions welling up, I burst into tears. I already desperately missed my family, yet they had only been gone for a few minutes. I think it was the fact that I knew I would never see any of them again.

I was awake shortly after four in the morning, and I knew exactly what had happened. There was no slow dawning of remembrance. No half way. It was there. Instant. I really wanted to cry again, but my body was too exhausted.

I was cold. I was lying on my bed still in just Mum’s knickers. I walked through into my parents’ room. The kids had messed it up a bit, but I just got into bed, taking in the remembered scents of both my parents.

I woke up again a little after eight. I lay there in deep depression for about half an hour before my bladder forced me out of bed. Once up however, I didn’t want to go back to bed.

You might think; that with my new freedom, I would put on a pair of knickers, but I didn’t. I actually didn’t want to. I found my own clothes and got dressed and went slowly down stairs. Mum and some of the others had started to tidy up, but in reality there was still a lot to do. I began picking things up at random, putting or throwing away, or putting for washing. I spotted a large quiche that hadn’t been started and my stomach gave a huge growl. It was nearly nine in the morning. I hadn’t eaten for nearly twenty hours.

I cut myself a large piece and put the rest in the fridge. Poured myself a glass of water, and sat down. The food and water actually settled me. I cut another, much smaller piece, and began to nibble as I once again tried to tidy up. I was a bit more determined, but no more organised, and by eleven, even though I felt I had done quite a lot, it didn’t look like it.

Then I found the pile of knickers I’d been given. I counted them. Thirty-two. I smiled and then remembered Mum’s still upstairs, and that in turn reminded me of Jo’s. I quickly found them both and added them to the pile.

Most of them were really sexy and pretty knickers, though one or two looked a bit more boring. I sorted them through and decided there was only three I wouldn’t want to wear. They went in the bin, the rest I dumped onto one of the armchairs. I began picking up all the clothes, and was about to throw them in the bin when I remembered what Dad had said. It felt a bit like stealing, but the owners wouldn’t be back.

I found thirty-four purses and wallets. Dad’s, Mum’s and Joanne’s would be elsewhere, so that meant eight people hadn’t brought purse or wallet. I reflected on the group of people and realised that about that number, all girls, were younger than me, or not much older, and may not have had purses to bring. Or just hadn’t thought about it. I just piled everything up on the table.

I emptied the pockets, without sorting, then dumped the clothes into a fresh bin bag. I would take them all down the charity shop later. I didn’t know whether they would want the clothes cleaned first, but right at that moment I didn’t care. By about one, the living room looked acceptable, though the kitchen actually looked worse. There was a lot of stuff on the dining table, but most of that was either money or might have value somewhere.

I cut myself another piece of quiche, a glass of milk, and sat and ate. I didn’t allow myself to think. While I was working like this I could hold back the tide. I could make believe I was tidying up for when my parents got home.

I started on the kitchen. Filling the dishwasher first, then while that was running, filling the bowl and washing the stuff that didn’t go into the dishwasher. Mum never put glasses or some of the cutlery in. Nor did she put the sharp kitchen knives in. “Dulls the edges” she had told me.

Some special mugs and cups didn’t go in either, nor did anything wooden, or with a wooden handle. I had to pause and dry up a few times, but by three the kitchen looked mostly clear.

I grabbed a bin bag and started throwing once again. As I took stuff out I found the stuff Mum had had to leave on the floor outside the previous evening. With a sigh I began to sort it into the various recycling bins.

By about five, even the kitchen was looking okay. It wasn’t as good as Mum would have done. And it had taken me a lot longer, but it was okay. For now. I wandered around, putting a few more bits and pieces away until about seven, when I got yet another piece of quiche. I could cook, I was actually good at it, I just didn’t want to. And the quiche was very tasty. I made myself a cup of tea and finally sat down in the living room. I spotted all the stuff that had been left on the table, so quickly moved over to it and began to sort everything out as I was eating. I got another bin bag for the obvious rubbish, and then began to sort. Wallets and purses I emptied totally. I piled the cards on one side; I would cut them up later. It never occurred to me that there was no one to defraud, but even if it had, I still wouldn’t have done it. I didn’t bother counting the money, just pushed it to one side.

Purses, make up, wallets, hankies, sweets, pills, lip salve, papers, letters, all sorts. Some of it went into the bin: the number of used tissues I found was scary. Receipts and vouchers and similar from the purses and wallets went into the bin bag. Paracetamol I kept if it was still in date, as I did any medication I recognised such as aspirin or ibuprofen, lem-sip or hedex. The rest I pushed to one side. I ought to find out what was there, but I couldn’t be bothered right now.

Make up was sorted into lipsticks, nail polishes, powders, perfumes, eye shadow and other miscellaneous. Sweets, if they looked clean went into my pocket, if they didn’t they went into the bin.

I sorted the money into piles and then began to count it. There was just short of nineteen hundred pounds. I was shocked. I suddenly realised that all the men, the sponsors, had left their wallets as well and it honestly looked like some of them, men and women, had filled their wallets and purses with cash before coming here. They had done it for me, and once again the tears started to well up. I closed my eyes, gripped the table and took a few deep breaths.

Gathering my emotions together again, I got a pair of scissors and began to cut up the cards. There were over a hundred, but I soon realised not all were bank cards. Some were driving licences, membership cards, loyalty cards, discount cards. I might be able to use the loyalty cards, so I put them to one side. Same with discount cards. Driving licences I cut up. As I did with various types of membership cards. Credit and debit cards I cut up, but as I did so, I found one with a sticky note on it.

“Toby. PIN 4245. £183·16 credit.” I gasped and began to go through all the cards. I found nine more with similar messages, though the rest said “Check balance” or something similar, rather than telling me a balance.

Those ten I put to one side. The rest I cut up. I still felt it was important to do so.

It was after ten now and I slowly took myself to bed. I slept in Joanne’s bed that night, finding a clean pair of her knickers in the drawer to wear in bed. Again I just wanted to be near her, the scents on her pillow bringing her back for me.

I slept.

I didn’t really feel any better Thursday morning, but by a little after lunchtime I had hoovered everywhere, and it really looked like I had finished. Yet it still didn’t really look as good as if Mum had done it.

I sat down with a mug of tea and just looked around. For no particular reason I picked a pair of knickers off the top of the pile and just looked at them, feeling them. I frowned. There seemed to be something hard stuck to it. I looked closely and spotted a memory card, an old fashioned micro-sd card, stuck to the inside. I carefully picked it free, found an adaptor, and plugged it into my tablet.

I wasn’t sure what I to expect, but what I got was a total surprise. On it was a video file. According to the date stamp, this had been taken two days earlier, the day of the collection. I transferred it to the laptop then switched on the audio and clicked on it.

There were two people. Both of them naked. It didn’t take me long to realise that this was Graham Morris and one of his twin daughters. They were having sex. I remembered Alexandra, I think, telling me there was a present inside her knickers. I paused the video and went back to the pile. It took nearly fifteen minutes but I found a second card.

Ejecting the first, I put the second in. It was similar to the first, but the time stamp was an hour or so earlier.

I was about to start the video when I knew exactly what I had to do. I stripped and put on the knickers that had held the earlier card, then double clicked the file.

There was a brief pause, then the twins were standing in front of the camera wearing just their knickers. “Hello Toby,” one said. “I’m Samantha.” I glanced down at the knickers I was wearing, at the other pair, then at the two girls on screen. I knew I was wearing Samantha’s knickers. “I hope you are wearing one of our knickers at the moment. If you’re not, pause the movie and change. Do it now.” She stopped talking for about fifteen seconds. I just left the film playing. “We know about your friend. We know why you aren’t coming, and we’re so proud of you. We all are. That’s one of the reasons we are doing this for you.”

Alex spoke up, “Sam and I have been making love with both our parents for a little over a year now, and we all truly love it. This is highly unusual. What most people call incest is normally rape. In fact we don’t call that incest, we call that rape, abuse and even child molestation. What we want to do is show you what real incest is. True, loving incest. That’s the other reason, to show you what love looks like.”

Sam took over again. “Alex and I are going to make love to our parents, and we are going to film it for you. Dad knows and doesn’t mind. Mum doesn’t know, and would mind very much. I suspect we might also make love to Theresa, the woman who will be Dad’s fourth concubine. She’s very pretty, so if we do you’ll be in luck. However it’s not certain, so don’t get your hopes too high.”

Alex picked up a box and pressed a button. The film flicked. She had paused the recording for a short while. One of the girls had left the room. By comparing knickers I knew it was Alexandra I could still see.

Samantha came in just moments later, pulling her father with her. I watched for nearly an hour, my cock rock hard, almost painfully so, as the three fucked and sucked in any combination they could come up with. It was obvious that all three were enjoying themselves. The film came to a sudden halt. End of file.

Shit. I stopped it, and was about to start the other one, when I decided to change knickers. Samantha’s came off and Alexandra’s went on.

The film started. I’d long since lost track of which girls was which, they were just too similar in every way. Mr Morris was slowly fucking into one of the girls. She had her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him and was urging him on.

“Sorry, Toby,” I heard a soft whisper from the film. The other girl reappeared. She had obviously been restarting the camera.

She moved over to her father and sister and began to kiss her father. Then she raised her head and looked away. I couldn’t see exactly what was in that direction; the camera had moved slightly between the first recording and this one, but I think it was the bedroom door.

The one girl moved towards it. “We’re up here,” she called down.

Two more women came into the room. One was the girls mother, the other I vaguely recognised as the woman who had been with them when they went.

“Samantha?” said their mother. “Oh.” She turned to the other woman who was looking a bit startled. “That’s Alex currently getting herself well and truly fucked under there.” Alexandra tipped her head back and smiled at her mother, before turning her attention back to her father again.

The orgy went on for a little over an hour, and I was lucky enough to see the five of them getting it on. About half way though, Mr Morris left the room for a little while. “I’m knackered,” he told the four women. “Give me five.”

He came back a few minutes later and one of the twins left. A few minutes later she was back. She held a small piece of paper hidden in her hand. For a few seconds she held it up so that the camera could see it. There were words on it, but I didn’t have time to make out more than three or four. She grinned at the camera, winked, then turned her back. Again the film just ended suddenly, mid scene. Graham was fucking his wife doggie fashion, while she ate out one of their daughters. The other twin was in a sixty-nine with the fourth woman whose name I had already forgotten.

By checking the first film, I reminded myself that the other woman was Theresa, and yes, she was very pretty. I also managed to identify both Mrs Morris’ knickers and Theresa’s from the pile. These had obviously been recorded the morning of the collection. Those four, plus Pauline Lipp’s, were the only ones I knew for certain. Apart from Mum’s and Jo’s.

I went back to find the message and paused the film. It took me a few minutes as her hand was moving slightly, and the camera couldn’t get the focus quite right, but I eventually managed to read it. “Please come and raid the house for whatever you need or want.” This was followed by a winky. There was also an address and an alarm code. The address wasn’t actually that far away. About a mile. If that.

It was now gone five o’clock in the afternoon. I sorted through the big pile of bunches of keys. There were nineteen altogether. Seven were labelled with names and addresses, though I didn’t recognise some of the names. The others weren’t labelled so I didn’t see much point in keeping them. I decided to hang on to them for the moment, though I wasn’t sure why. Not yet.

The Morris’ keys weren’t labelled, so I just grabbed all the unlabelled keys.

I grinned and got dressed, leaving Alexandra’s knickers on. Picking up a couple of large bags, I left on my mission to raid their house. Although getting quite dark now, it was still quite busy out. Busy enough to easily blend in.

I found the address, managing to find the correct key fairly quickly, and let myself in. I had a panic when the alarm started beeping, but I quickly found the panel and cleared the alarm. I spent a while wandering around and snooping. In the end all I took was a two-pint carton of milk, a small amount of cash I found on a shelf in the kitchen, all of Mrs Morris’ jewellery, and all of the girls clean knickers that I could find. Forty-one pairs between them. I took Mrs Morris’ as well, about twenty pairs, though about half I would later throw away without even wearing. I tried to find the camera, but it wasn’t there.

Pauline Lipp’s keys had also been labelled, and she too wasn’t that far away. Closer than the Morris’. I raided her house next and took 18 pairs of knickers and absolutely nothing else. I could find nothing of value, not even jewellery and the fridge and freezer were practically empty.

I only recognised the name on one other set of keys, but the address was far too far away. I didn’t recognise the other names; I guessed they must be some of the concubines. I left them all. That was when I suddenly remembered where the Morris’ had been looking after the kids. I went through the keys again, but nothing suggested they were the right keys. I had now labelled the Moriss’ keys, so I picked up all the remaining unlabelled bunches and went up to number thirty-seven.

It took me nearly twenty minutes to find the right key and let myself in. I had checked first to see whether there were any signs of current occupation, but the house was dark and empty. I held my breath as I pushed open the door, waiting for an alarm to start beeping, but there was nothing.

I went in and closed the door behind me. Looking around I soon found a photograph, and that reminded me of the woman who lived here. I couldn’t remember whose concubine she had been, but she wasn’t Dad’s. I didn’t remember her name, but she was in her late thirties or early forties, a pleasant, friendly, elegant and vaguely attractive woman. Always well dressed. I soon found a couple of bills, both addressed to a Mrs M Crisp.

I went hunting. I found a few quid, a couple of bottles of decent Westons cider, and then I went to her bedroom. I paused. I’d already raided two houses for knickers. Did I really want any more? And the owner wasn’t truly beautiful or sexy, merely pleasant looking.

I went in. Oh my god. On the bed was a huge pile of underwear. All of it looking incredibly sexy, with lots of lace. Blacks, pinks and reds dominated, but also blues, greens and whites. The styles and shapes, the fabrics, even the articles themselves. I was in heaven. I started to sort out the bras and put them to one side, then just shook my head and scooped absolutely everything into a couple of suitcases that were open and lying there, empty. This had been set up for me, I was absolutely sure of it. When I checked the drawers they were empty, which just seemed to confirm what I had suspected.

I carried on looking and soon found two video cameras and what appeared to be some sort of remote setup. Next to it were over a hundred DVDs obviously recorded by Mrs Crisp as they had hand written names and dates on them. I pondered for a moment, then scooped them into a bag. There was a lot of food in the fridge and freezer. I left the freezer alone, and from the fridge picked a few of the things likely to go off sooner rather than later.

I locked up and headed back home with my haul.

I had just acquired another seventy-nine pairs of knickers, plus the thirty-two from Tuesday, plus all of Mum’s and Jo’s. And I hadn’t yet counted Mrs Crisp’s. I was in hog heaven.

I got myself a little something to eat and went to bed wearing one of Pauline Lipp’s. I deliberately ensured that all the ones I knew the original owner of, I kept separate. I wanked myself to sleep, sleeping in my own bed that night.

I wasn’t sure what to do come Friday. I looked at the big pile of knickers and suddenly felt desperately sad. There was enough food in the fridge for the time being, but I picked up the cards that had PINs on, and decided to head into town. I found a cashpoint and inserted the first card. Entering the PIN at the prompt, I pressed the button for a balance. Zero. “Oh hell,” I muttered. I ejected the card, then pushed it back in again. I deliberately entered an incorrect PIN, doing it three times in quick succession. The machine swallowed the card. That was fine by me. There was no queue, so I tried a second card. That balance was also zero.

“That’s mad,” I muttered. I forced the machine to swallow that card, then left, wondering what the hell was going on.

I did two more at a second cash machine at a different bank, with the same results, then two more at a third, again with identical results. I began to think the Confederacy had, maybe, conned me. Or the banks had found out and closed the accounts. I had four more cards left, including the credit card. I would leave that until last. I wasn’t sure if I could use a credit card in a cash machine. The last three debit cards also showed a zero balance.

I wandered around the town centre in a blue funk. I didn’t see anyone I knew, but as I passed the cinema I remembered that it was a Friday, so the films changed that day. I went in to see if there was anything to escape to. That depressed me even further. There was some romantic comedy, two films for the younger children, a remake of one of the Jack Ryan Tom Clancy films, some sort of action-comedy that I had never heard of, and a gulf war movie. The only one I might have tolerated was the action-comedy, but the next showing wasn’t for almost three hours and I really didn’t fancy waiting.

I wandered home and flopped onto my bed. I was at a loss, and it was still only three in the afternoon. After a little while I wandered back downstairs. There were three big bags of clothes to go to the charity shops. There were a couple reasonably local, so I picked up the first bag. It wasn’t too heavy. Then I looked at the bags and once again felt the emotions start to well up.

I sat down, and for the first time began to think about my family, what they might now be up to. Where they might be. How were they coping? I imagined Mum or Jo having sex, but that wasn’t a good thought and I thought about Dad. Was he training to be a soldier? I found an old DVD. Not many people still had them. Even Blue-ray was old-hat now, though there were still a lot around.

I watched “Starship Troopers”. It was an awful film, but it got me through.

Saturday morning, I went through all the cards I had kept. I wasn’t quite sure what I was looking for, but I knew as soon as I had found it. It was a gym membership card, made out in the name of Marion Crisp. There was no photo on it, but as I put them down I realised I had also cocked up badly. I had already cut up and thrown away almost all of the photo cards. Driving licences principally. They would have given me even more addresses, and names to put faces to. I remembered there being at least three other women whose panty-drawer I would have quite happily raided. Unfortunately they were now gone for good. I had cut each card into dozens of tiny pieces. Putting them back together again would have been impossible.

Instead I went through Marion Crisp’s suitcases. There was nearly 400 pieces of lingerie. Including a number of sets. First I sorted all the knickers out. One hundred and six. Fifty-one had matching bras, plus there were eighteen other bras. The eighteen went into a clothes bag for disposing of at the charity shop. There were twelve suspender belts, all of which matched a pair of knickers; in two cases there was a matching bra as well.

There were nine pairs of tights and twenty-five stockings, however when I paired them up I found out there were nine pairs, plus seven patterned singletons all different and with no match. The seven also went into the bag for disposal.

There were also clothes I couldn’t identify, but later, with the help of the internet, identified as basques, corsets, slips, petticoats, bodies, teddies, camisoles, chemises and more. Some of which I later realised were actually nightwear.

The basques and corsets went into the bag. No interest to me, though I suppose seeing a beautiful woman wear one would have been interesting. I had a hard-on to break bricks with, and soon stripped off, I wondered what to try on first.

For the next hour I tried on pair after pair of knickers. About a quarter I decided would be too uncomfortable to wear regularly, a few were just plain too small. I chuckled softly when I found some that I couldn’t even pull up beyond mid thigh. The leg holes themselves were too small. Those that were too small went into the bin bag. I found one pair that was a little too big even for me. Big and baggy on, yet would have probably looked really sexy on the woman who had owned them. I tried on a couple of the bras, but they didn’t excite me, not even when I was also wearing the matching knickers. I tried padding them out with other knickers, but it didn’t do anything for me. Some of the slips and petticoats and camisoles felt nice, but again some were just too small. Marion had obviously changed size quite drastically.

I found a matching set of bra, knickers, suspender belt and camisole. I carefully put them all on, along with a pair of stockings. My cock was rock hard. I took the bra off again after a few minutes. Oddly that was more exciting. All the bras went into the charity bag. They did nothing for me, so there was no point in keeping them. As well as the knickers I decided I would keep the stockings, the suspender belts and a few of the camisoles but not the tights. Everything I didn’t want, went into either the charity bag or the bin bag.

And this was just Marion Crisp’s stuff. I hadn’t started with Pauline Lipp’s, nor the Morris twins’.

I put my own clothes, including underwear, back on and went and got myself some tea. I thought about watching one of Marion’s DVDs, but for some reason decided I’d rather watch some SCI-FI. I ended up watching one of those films that’s so bad it’s almost good. “The Adventures of Pluto Nash”. Okay, so it’s bad, but it was funny and it was what I needed.

I didn’t know whose knickers I wore that night, they were simply a pair I had been handed during the collection.

I didn’t really want to get out of bed Sunday morning, but eventually I rose. The knickers I had been wearing had started to strangle my balls in the middle of the night so I had kicked them off. They now went straight in the bin. I realised I had no bread or milk, and very little for breakfast. At first I thought of going up the shop, but after a few minutes decided to go and get every scrap of food I could find from Mrs Crisp’s kitchen. It took me a couple of hours and I left the freezer almost untouched as mine was already somewhat over-full, but I took everything else. Unfortunately I still had to go down the shop for bread and milk as Marion had neither. Not any fit for consumption anyway.

With the last of the eggs, I made myself a three-egg omelette, and had it with the last of the bacon and some toast as a brunch. Afterwards I hoisted one of the clothes bags and headed for the nearest charity shop. It was one I had been in a few times before, usually looking through their piles of really old music CDs and blu-ray or DVD films.

The woman behind the counter grinned at me when I walked in. “Nothing new for a couple of weeks luv,” she told me.

“Got sommat for you. We’ve been havin’ a major clear out. This is just some of the stuff. All old clothes.

“All righty, let’s see what you’ve got. Bring it through.”

“Got at least three more bags at home,” I said, dumping the bag on the table.

She nodded and tipped it all out. This one was full of dresses and skirts, plus some jeans and slacks. All of it women’s. She briskly sorted through it.

“Some junk ‘ere, some okay stuff.” She stopped and picked up a blouse, sniffing it. “This isn’t clean.” She stuffed the whole lot back in the bag and passed it back. “It needs to be clean. We don’t have the facilities to wash it.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Ne’er mind. Bring it back when it’s clean. Even the junk we’ll be able to use, even if only as rags.”

I nodded and left, somewhat pissed off.

Back home I sighed and went through all the bags once more. I sort of knew how to use the washing machine. Most things went on a number four wash, except towels and some bed-sheets which went on a two, and woollens on a wool wash. All of them followed by an extra spin afterwards. Mum’s and Jo’s lingerie also went on a wool wash, but this time without the extra spin.

I also knew enough to separate into light and dark loads. I guessed there would be about nine loads when I had measured it all out. It would take me ages, and I would still have to get it dried. I looked at it in despair. Taking a deep breath, I filled the first light load. The machine didn’t take as much as I had hoped and so I revised my estimate up to about twelve loads.

I started it up, and only then thought about my own clothes. I was back at school the following day and I didn’t know if my uniform was clean. I was one of the majority of sixth-formers who did wear a school uniform. I checked the ironing pile and was relieved to see my school clothes there. I knew how to iron shirts, but I decided to just hang them up and hope the creases dropped out. The rest of the stuff I started to sort out to put away, before realising it didn’t need to go away. It could go to the charity shop.

I really didn’t fancy a second walk today, so I dumped all the stuff into a bag and left it by the back door. Next Saturday would be soon enough. I flopped in front of the TV and watched, without really watching, some home improvements show. I had no idea what I watched, but I knew exactly when the washing machine had finished. I set the fast spin then made myself a cup of tea and just sat and waited for it to finish. It wasn’t warm enough to put stuff on the line, and we had never bothered with a dryer, so I found room around the house for all the washing from the first load, and put a second load in before heading back to the TV.

It was a black and white film. I turned over, channel hopping until I found something that didn’t instantly bore me. An hour and a half later I struggled to find space to dry the second load, but did get it all out. I put a third load in, but knew I would have to leave it overnight, and try and sort it out the following evening.

It was almost seven by the time the third load had finished. I dragged it all out into a laundry basket and put a fourth load in. It was time to sort out an evening meal.

I just looked at the full cupboards, my mind a complete blank. What I really wanted was for my mother to make us all something while I chatted with her and helped her. I was suddenly, overbearingly, lonely. I got out a box of tacos, but when I looked at the pack it said it was a family pack. I put it back. Tinned sardines on toast became my meal. Simple, quick and tasty, but not exciting.

I picked up a pair of Mum’s knickers to go to bed in, but then put them carefully back in her drawer. Instead I got another pair from the pile of unknowns. Ten seconds after putting them on I took them off again and dumped them in the bin. I knew I would never wear them again, and I also knew that charity shops rarely took underwear. Even clean.

A second pair was more successful and I took my e-reader and a glass of water and went to bed.