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From: "Sam Grume" <grumbles@linuxmail.org>
Subject: {ASSM} Tam and Claire 4/5 {uncle grumbles} (Fg, ped, cons, rom, inc, slow, nosex)
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Date: Wed, 17 Dec 2008 11:10:07 -0500
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author: Uncle Grumbles 
title: Tam and Claire 4/5 
summary: Dress codes explained, routines established, loose ends tied up 
keywords: Fg, ped, cons, rom, inc, nosex, slow 
keywords: awakening

==

myfile: tamclaire-ch4-v1d-m72.txt

======

Story Code note: I could plausibly have put Fdom or bd on this chapter,
but having sampled other works with those codes, think that would
amount to false advertising in this case.

If this sort of thing bothers you, fair warning: Not everything
that happens here is politely negotiated between two equals in age
or experience. At no time, however, does either character intend to
humiliate the other for sexual gratification.

If you think I've handled this badly, please let me know.

Feedback, positive or negative, is very welcome, and will help me do 
better next time, if the lightning strikes again, and there is a next 
time.

A kind word in email is as good as gold here, and a lot cheaper. 

  grumbles at linux mail spot org

OK? OK.

Ready and set and Here. We. Go:

======

Tam and Claire, Chapter 4: Prelude...

======

[recap: Tam is staying with her Uncle Carl and Aunt Claire over summer
vacation. She's developed something of a crush on her Auntie. She's
also turned out to be simpatico with her infant cousin, Erica. Uncle
Carl, away on business, had stopped by to deliver the news, with an
engineer's characteristic bluntness, that Tam's Mom had assaulted a
cop who, quite properly, was trying to arrest her. Carl left, but is
sorely chagrined at the devastating effect his news had on his niece;
and is desperately missed by Claire. A badly wounded Tam has struck out
against Claire, who had to take strong measures to bring her back to
an even keel. In the aftermath, Claire has taught Tam an ordinary but
pleasurable skill, and has introduced her to the civilized enjoyment
of strong drink. Carl and Claire have brought each other up to date
on the phone.]

======

Claire awoke to find Tam once again curled up at her feet, not even
wearing panties. She changed Erica, fed her, then reached down and
lightly popped the inviting little butt still pretending sleep.

"Up, lazy girl! Duty calls! Up! Up! Up! We're wasting daylight, here!"

There was a certain amount of surliness, turning into a gleeful
wrestling match ending with Tam trying to swat her, finally landing
one grazing blow.

"Ow! OK, OK! You win! Now up and out and at 'em! Come on, come on,
we got work to do!"

There were pancakes. Tam did the dishes, with some whining. The day
went pretty quickly after that.

Tam spent most of it cleaning her room, with numerous breaks for baby
care and general twelve-year-old distraction and procrastination. Even
with the room back in order, Tam turned out to have brought almost
no clothes with her. After yesterday's losses, Tam had one pair of
jeans, a pair of sweat pants, one short sleeved shirt, two tees,
two pairs of panties, one and half pairs of socks, and...nothing
else. Not even a bathing suit. It was all...well used.

Claire helped put the bed back together; it was simply too unwieldy
for Tam to manage by herself. She also found a photo album in the
mess which she put in her office for further study.

There was lunch. Tam did the dishes, again with some prodding.

Tam made a severe strategic error in doing too good a job cleaning
her own bathroom. She groaned mightily on being told that the other
bathrooms were also due -- don't forget the mud room shower! That took
the rest of the afternoon, and bathroom-cleaning became an Official
Chore, to be performed weekly.

Dinner happened. Tam and Claire did the dishes together, constantly
bumping into each other with the easy intimacy of a working kitchen.

"Tell you what," said Claire when they were done. "You haven't washed
the clothes you're wearing yet. Go change; they're faded enough to
do with that load of towels in the hamper, bleach can't hurt 'em any
more. Get the washer started, and I'll make popcorn, and we can listen
to music for awhile, if you'd like."

Tam scampered off, and Claire popped up a huge bowl of popcorn on
the stove, nuked some butter, and sprinkled on some celery salt
and pepper. She put glasses of ice, a pitcher of lemonade, and some
sprigs of mint on a tray, and carried it all to the music room. She'd
just gotten settled, with Erica on a blanket on the floor, when Tam
pranced in.

"Tam? Why aren't you wearing any clothes?"

Tam...leered, actually leered. She spun around, showing herself off.

"After our shower yesterday? We walked to your room naked? I liked
that! It was fun!"

"Come to me, my little froggy frog."

Tam twirled herself over to Claire, put her hands behind her head,
and stuck out her chest, what there was of it.

Claire put an arm around her, pulled her in.

"You know what I like best about little girls walking around the
house naked?" asked Claire.

"That we're so cute?"

Shameless! When the hell had that happened?

"Almost! What I like best about little girls walking around the house
naked is that I don't have to fool with buttons or snaps or zippers
when they... need a spanking!"

She snatched Tam onto her lap, bottom up. Tam laughed, than cried
out in alarm when the first blow was obviously serious business. She
squirmed on Claire's lap but Claire was inescapable.

"...Three! Four! Five! Now get up! Stand up straight! Look at me
when I'm talking to you, young lady! In this house, Tam, in this
house, those of us who can stand up and walk around on our two hind
legs act like civilized, adult human beings and we wear clothes"
-- Tam tried to speak -- "WE WEAR CLOTHES except when there's need
otherwise -- like showering or feeding the baby or getting ready for
bed. Understand?" Tam nodded, scowling.

"I asked if you understood! Answer me!"

Tam made some noise that might have been "Yeah".

"Was that a 'Yes, Ma'am'? That didn't sound like a 'Yes, Ma'am'."

"I only wanted...!"

"Tam! Do you understand me?"

There was a long, smoldering glare. Claire started to reach for a
wrist, and the little shoulders slumped, just a bit.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Now. I've had to hold you down twice to punish you. Do not,
do not, do NOT make me do that a third time. If you come to me to be
punished again, you will pose yourself however I order you to pose,
and you will take your punishment like a lady. Make me chase you down,
or struggle against me, and it will go much worse for you, and much
longer. Understand me?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

It sounded as if Tam were fighting tears.

"Good. Go put on some clothes, then come back here for
inspection. Don't make me come after you. Scoot!"

One final swat as Tam turned away. Tam jumped, and put her hands on
the offended area.

The other thing I like about little girls running around naked,
thought Claire, as she watched the lovely little red bottom march away,
is that it's very hard to stomp effectively in bare feet.

THEN comes the cute. Maybe, once the lesson is learned, maybe that
rule can be relaxed just a smidgen. Hm....

Claire waited more than ten times as long as it could possibly take
to put on a pair of pants and a shirt. She was just about to mount a
search-and-destroy when Tam came back wearing her sweat pants and a
tee. She stood in front of Claire, who looked her up and down. Tam's
eyes were just a wee bit reddened. There had been crying, Claire
decided. As there should have been.

"Acceptable. Now, if you would still like some popcorn and music,
I'd love some civilized, grown-up company."

"I have a book to read, Ma'am." The very stiffest voice of untouchable
propriety.

"Suit yourself."

Tam stalked out of the room, all offended dignity.

Claire put on some Mozart, cool, quiet, calming, engaging the brain
as well as the spirit.

Presently she became aware of a presence in the doorway.

"Ca...May I say something, Ma'am?"

"You certainly may, Tam, if you will come over here and say it to
my face."

Tam presented herself.

Her face tried to be angry, but screwed up into disappointed confusion.

"I thought it would be fun! I thought you would like it! I like...I
just like it when you look at me!"

Oh, my. Oh my oh my. You've sunk my battleship.

"Tam, my lovely, my darling, come here, please, and sit on my lap."

Tam came over and stiffly perched herself on Claire's knee, as far
away from Claire as she could get and still technically be on her
lap. Claire lightly put her arms around her, but did not pull her in.

"Tam, I do like looking at you, very very much, clothes on or off. I
like it when you look at me, too. And, Tam, sometimes it is good
to undress just to show yourself to the person you love. However,
and this is very, very important, Tam...Remember the rules for the
cognac? Go ahead, say them again."

"'"Not by myself, not very much, not very often. Ask
first.'" Gruffly. Perhaps a bit resentful at having to recite an old
lesson under such trying circumstances.

"I'm impressed. Quite so. Now, obviously, the 'not by yourself'
doesn't apply here. And if you are with the person you love, you will,
I promise you, you will know for certain if and when the right time
comes, and you will not have to ask. But 'not very much, and not very
often' is still important, maybe more important for this than it is
for the cognac. If we run around naked all the time, it stops being
special. Tam, my pretty one, my beauty, I don't want anything that
special, that wonderful, to stop being special between us. I want
you to wear clothes exactly and precisely because I like looking at
you without them so much. OK?"

Tam nodded. There were tears on her cheeks, and she clearly did not
trust herself to speak. She was starting to understand that she had
almost ruined something that she would not be able to fix, and had
never even properly enjoyed.

"And then, Tam, there's the whole business of windows, and people
coming up to the house, and bacon grease spattering in the kitchen,
and sunburn, and keeping warm, and all of that. And finally, if we
choose our clothes carefully, they can help us look our very best,
often better than we can look in just our own skins. We humans wear
clothes for damn good reasons, Tam, we've struggled for thousands of
years to learn how to do it right, and it does not do to forget that."

Claire pulled Tam in to her, and Tam melted and put her arms around her
Auntie Claire. After a sniffle or two, Claire leaned back, carefully
put a finger under Tam's chin, and turned the wet face towards her
own. She kissed tears off Tam's cheeks, kissed the beautiful gray eyes,
and finally kissed Tam on the mouth. She pulled away, gazing at her
niece, and Tam leaned forward, and kissed her back. They snuggled
together a few minutes more.

"I...I think I'd like some popcorn now."

Claire slid the girl off her lap. "Pour yourself a glass of lemonade,
my bonnie lass, pour me one too, and come sit by me."

And for a long time, they nestled in each other's arms, side by side
on the couch like grown-ups, listened to the music, and said almost
nothing at all.

===

At bedtime, they collected Erica, and walked to the bedroom hall,
Claire's arm around Tam's shoulder, Tam's arm around Claire's waist.

"Claire?"

"Sweetie?"

"Can I have some milk again?"

"Always, my darling suction cup."

You'd think, thought Claire to herself, with Tam nestled against her,
gently suckling, you'd think this would be as sexy as hell after a
talk like that.

It was, a little, there was no denying it. She stroked Tam's hair,
and lightly fondled her bottom through her jeans.

But mostly, it was just very peaceful, very sweet.

When Tam was finished, she licked the last drop away from Claire's
nipple, and kissed her breast. She put her hand on the other breast,
and lightly kissed Claire on the mouth.

"I love you Claire. I love you lots."

"I love you too, Tam, more than I know how to say."

"Good night, Auntie."

"Good night, Tam."

Tam slid down from the bed, and padded off to her own room. Claire
was a bit disappointed, but mostly relieved; she didn't think she
would be able to sleep with Tam so close.

===

When Claire awoke the next morning, Tam was curled up at her feet,
not even wearing panties.

===

The next week was, for the most part, uneventful.

There was a trip into town for groceries and clothing. Claire had
anticipated a long happy day in the dress shops, but after getting
the basics at a big chain store, Tam grew so restive those plans had
to be canceled. She simply saw no point in fooling around once the
necessities were met.

Nevertheless, Tam acquired several pairs of jeans, a couple of pairs
of sweatpants and sweatshorts, a couple of short- and a couple of
long-sleeved work shirts. There were some very light-weight short
sleeve shirts, in light colors with contrasting collars and some
decorations, flowers and butterflies, sewn into them. ("Embroidery",
Claire called it.) They were defective, though: "Auntie, these shirts
have the buttons sewn onto the wrong side." "Those aren't shirts, Tam;
they're blouses, girls's shirts, and the buttons are on the opposite
side from boys' shirts." "Why...?" "Lots of reasons, but I think
mostly because a long time ago, men buttoned their own shirts, while
women were dressed by servants." And, Claire thought, undressed by men.

Buttons aside, Tam loved her blouses; in comparison, boys' shirts now
seemed too heavy to her, too hot. She had to be cautioned not to wear
them while doing dirty work. She wondered how she had managed not to
know about blouses. Claire wondered that too.

There were panties and bras. They were white and plain, but they fit
properly (the bras after a bit of judicious strap adjustment under
Claire's direction). They perhaps had somewhat less fabric in them
than her old ones did -- the panties in particular were cut high on
her hips. Tam felt a little thrill every time she swung a bra around
back-to-front and flipped up the shoulder straps. She practiced until
she could do it in just a few seconds literally with her eyes closed.

There were socks. There was a pair of walking shoes, identical to the
pair discarded after the Manure War. There was a couple of pairs of
simple, cheap deck shoes, and a pair of cloth slippers for inside,
with light rubber soles and embroidered with butterflies.

There was also a pair of incredibly clunky shoes with inch-thick
soles and heels that made her feel like she was standing on tip-toes,
although really they only added two inches altogether. Tam complained,
but Claire insisted she wear them for at least an hour each day,
and critiqued her step and balance. "Every lady," Claire intoned,
"Every lady knows how to walk elegantly in high heels." She had to wear
them with long socks ("Stockings", corrected Claire) made out of very
thin fabric, that came rolled up in donuts, and that you unrolled onto
your leg. Claire was terribly picky about straight seams, and almost
always Tam had to stand while Claire knelt to make adjustments. She
felt rather put out by the bother, but secretly admitted to herself
that the feel of Claire's hands on her leg was...possibly worth the
bother. Just barely. A little. Maybe.

There was a bathrobe that felt like it was made out of
towels. "Terrycloth", Claire called it. It was so soft and comfortable
it almost made up for not walking around in the nude.

There was a wide-brimmed straw hat with a string that tightened
under Tam's chin and pale green ribbons trailing off the crown. "For
gardening," said Claire. "To keep the sun off." And, she said to
herself, because you look so damn cute in it.

Claire did insist on spending a few minutes in one store that Tam
didn't understand at all. There were a few mannequins about, but
nothing on racks. All that happened was that Claire and the clerk, who
obviously knew each other and got on very well, took her into a fitting
room, undressed her to her panties, and took some careful measurements
with a cloth ruler. The clerk also took pictures from all sides of
her standing against a grid with numbers marking one foot intervals,
and had Tam stand on a piece of paper printed with a grid labeled in
inches and letters while she drew around her feet with a felt tip pen.

===

The work clothes and shoes meant the manure pile could be attacked
again. It took them the better part of an afternoon. There was no
further undue mess.

There was a bit of cognac that night to celebrate. This time it
was Tam who called the toast: "Here's to the shit we shovel the
most, that makes us reek and stink the most, yet we must shovel it
still. To the shit we must dig still!" Claire brayed with delight,
downed her glass, and applauded. Tam stood and bowed, grinning a,
well, it must be said, a shit eating grin, and sat down, nestling
happily between Claire's legs.

===

There was a certain amount of stiffness and groaning the next morning,
but the turnabout back rubs were very nice.

After dinner that day, Claire put on some music that had Tam wanting
to...move...somehow. She swayed back and forth. She took a step or two,
but...something...wasn't.... All she could do was sway. Claire watched
her try to work it out on her own, but finally decided to spill the
secret. She started the music over again, and taught Tam the steps to
a simple waltz. When they got through it without stumbling, they were
both blushing and their hearts were thumping. They stood, Claire's arms
on Tam's shoulders, Tam's around Claire's waist. "Pretty dancer. Tiny
dancer. Dancer of my heart. Ballerina of my soul." The next track cued
up, and Claire suddenly grabbed Tam in a great hug, actually picked
her up off the ground, one hand at Tam's back and another under her
bottom, Tam's legs around Claire's waist and arms around her neck,
and twirled around the music room, stepping to the beat, dipping
and swaying, Tam shrieking with delight. Finally Claire stopped,
breathing hard. She looked Tam right in the eye, put her mouth on
Tam's mouth, and kissed her for several long seconds, kissed her like
she had once kissed Tam's nipple. When Claire finally put her down,
Tam stumbled a bit, feeling like she had had too much cognac. Claire
didn't let go of Tam's hands, though, and Tam stayed upright until
she caught her breath. Tam felt a strange intensity in her lips, and
put her fingers to her mouth, wondering. The same feeling lingered
where Claire's hands had held her, on her back and bottom.

Every day after that, there was a dancing lesson after dinner, and
Tam started to become comfortable with the waltz. Plus, of course,
she got to spend an hour or so pressed up against Claire. Soon enough,
Claire began to insist on the weird shoes for dancing, which Tam
resented at first, but then realized they made her not quite so short
next to Claire.

===

There was also gardening every day, mostly weeding, but a good deal
of potting and planting and identification lessons as well. Tam did
indeed look very charming in her sun hat, but Claire never mentioned
that, fearing it would break the spell. She took a few surreptitious
pictures for Carl. She longed for the day she could put Tam in a sun
dress. Tam began to pick up just a bare hint of coloring on her arms,
and more freckles swarmed on her face.

===

A couple of boxes bearing the logo of the Weird Store eventually
arrived via the Big Brown Truck of Happiness, but Tam did not see
these.

===

Tam was careful to use conditioner when she washed her hair, and to
brush her hair out after every morning shower. Although she now had
her very own hair dryer, this was always done at Claire's dresser --
"vanity", Claire called it -- and with Claire's instruction. Although
she learned quickly, and could easily manage herself, she and Claire
continued to dress together in the mornings, taking turns brushing
out each other's hair. Tam's normal dry straw started to glow and
shine under the attention.

===

Claire spent a lot of time in her office; she would start summer
tutoring sessions in a few weeks, and had many preparations to make,
including long meetings with parents and potential students. Tam
had been strictly cautioned against coming into the office without
knocking if the door were closed, or at all unless really necessary
-- to her credit, it never was, at least on her own account. She was
indispensable for keeping Erica happy and quiet during these times. She
kept the public areas of the house picked up with only the tiniest
prompts, answered the door and conducted clients to Claire's office
(talk about puffed up with pride!) and served water, lemonade, and tea.

===

The sun room ("solarium", Claire said, but Tam preferred "sun room")
again was favorite. Pillows were once again merely soft things to sit,
or lie, or lean on. Increasingly, though, the music room was where
Tam and Claire shared their time together.

===

Bathroom Day rolled around. Claire needed to speak sharply, once,
to get the project underway after breakfast, but it was finished (the
master bath, the bath shared between the two boys' rooms (Lynn's room,
at the end of the hall, had been condemned as "too pink", which it most
certainly was), and the guest half-bath -- that last the worst of the 
lot, since it had seen use by fathers and sons) before noon. Claire 
declared the job "professional". Tam pretended nonchalance, but hugged 
the praise to herself until dinner time.

===

Of course, from time to time there were sharp words between the two
of them -- there were two strong wills at work, and one of them was
only twelve. No more spankings, though. Sorry 'bout that.

===

One day Claire presented Tam with a second pair of shoes, much sleeker
than the first, which added another inch to her height, all of it in
the heel. Tam took to them right away, standing in front of her mirror,
turning and posing. She did not have to be prompted to practice wearing
them, and only wobbled the tiniest bit at the start of that evening's
dance lesson.

===

Uncle Carl blew in one afternoon, completely unannounced. Things were
rather awkward at first, but after mutual apologies and absolutions
over dinner, he brought out a peace offering: a huge old transmitting
tube that had been reworked into a fantastic, mad-scientist orb,
populated with filigreed grids and plates and tiny pinpricks of
shifting, colored light, filled with eldritch gases, and surrounded
by ominous fittings in brass and black aluminum. Silent lightnings
played about inside it as the electrodes were switched on and off by
ticking, brass-work circuits in the windowed base. If you put your
hand or finger on the envelope, you could guide the lightning about
to some extent, while the mechanism in the base would click furiously
as it tried to wrest back control.

Relations re-established, Carl sent Tam out to the jeep for three
big cardboard boxes, which he had her set on the kitchen table.

"Tam, these are not gifts. This stuff is already yours. It's everything
I've been allowed to take from your mother's apartment." He stopped
talking, waiting for Tam to respond. Her eyes welled up, but did not
spill over. She came over and hugged him.

"Thank you, Uncle Carl. I know...I know Mom would be a lot worse off
without you. I would be a lot worse without you. I know it's been
hard on you, too."

She opened the boxes carefully, as if something might jump out and
bite her, but they were mostly old clothes, desk-top clutter, and
the small collection of books she'd been able to build.

There was one worn brown expanding folder that tied with a string in
front. It had "Tamia Dawn Anderson" handwritten in felt tip across
the front.

"Those are the documents and records your Mom kept for you, Tam,
boring official stuff that you have to have, birth certificate,
doctor's records, school stuff, insurance papers, and the like. Aunt
Claire and I will go over it with you sometime so you know what
there is, but we should keep it in a safe-deposit box at the bank,
and keep copies here at home."

There was another like it, but black and brand-new, embossed in gold
with the name "Perkins and Fitz". It had a bar-coded label bearing
the name "Marilyn Suzanne Anderson".

"This, Tam, is some of the important legal stuff having to do with
your Mom's court case, including some medical records. It frankly
doesn't make much sense to me, lawyer and psych crap is like that,
but we can go through it if you want so you can at least get a feel
for it. I'm afraid there really isn't anything you or I can do about
it at this point, but the day may come when something here will help
her. I warn you though, probably not."

Finally, there was a brown cardboard storage box with a lid, not
flaps. It bore no label other than the smudges and stains, wear and
tear and tape repairs of more than a decade's frequent use.

"This, Tam, this is all stuff your Mom kept that you gave her."

Birthday and Christmas cards in crayon and novelty markers, dyed
macaroni glued on construction paper in meaningless patterns, ribbons
and bows and tangles of colored yarn, bits and pieces of street trash
that she'd been fascinated by and given to her mother so as to share
her wonder, doodles and sketches and stupid poems and stories. Not a
scrap of school work, just stuff Tam had done all on her own. It was
a box of her mother's love for her, and now the tears did come. She
climbed into Uncle Carl's lap and bawled her eyes out. Claire came
over and hugged both of them, and stood over them like a defending
angel for a long time.

Carl stayed for another day. Claire badgered him into fixing the
mud-room toilet, defunct for over a year, and he took Tam through every
step, teaching her the names for everything, prodding her to explain to
him how it all worked, and to figure out what had to be done. All he
actually did was to prompt her on technique, and add in brute force
where needed. They called in Aunt Claire for the Inaugural Flush,
and she clapped and laughed and kissed them both. Then she added it
to the weekly bathroom duty list. Tam groaned. "'No good deed goes
unpunished,'eh?" grinned Uncle Carl. "See, this is why I'm on the
road all the time." He swatted Claire on the butt, and Tam applauded.

Uncle Carl could not, in fact, keep his hands off Aunt Claire, and
at first Tam had been a little mad at him for that. But then she saw
Aunt Claire couldn't her hands off him, either, and saw that they
had missed each other in a way that almost frightened Tam in its
intensity. She could not deny their love for each other after that,
and knew that she was in this house, and was with Aunt Claire, solely
because they loved each other as much as they loved her.

That night there was dancing. Where dancing with Claire was like
flying with an eagle, dancing with Uncle Carl was like riding a lion,
powerful and commanding. It was actually kinda scary at first, but
he kept tight rein on himself, and Tam found that he always seemed to
know exactly what she could do and wanted to do. Over and over again,
though, he pushed her a little beyond what she was comfortable with
-- and each time she found she could manage it, just barely, but she
could manage, and it was always easier the next time. She was very
grateful for the new shoes; otherwise, she thought, she would have
had to stand on Uncle Carl's feet, as she had done in her distant
youth. It was a near thing as it was.

There was cognac, too, but contrary to Claire's report, Uncle Carl
seemed to savor it with the intensity he brought to everything else
he did. Watching him drink and listening to him talk about it made
her taste things in it she hadn't noticed before.

Tam wore the happi coat for that, and Uncle Carl was obviously
enchanted. He swore he would swim to Japan, if necessary, to get one
for Tam's very own.

The next morning when Carl and Claire woke up, Tam was curled up
at their feet, clad in tee and panties. Carl, who slept the sleep
of a warrior knowing able men might come to kill him, and who could
recount nearly every move his wife and baby made in the night, did
not know when or how she had gotten through the door or into his bed.

There was a happy breakfast, and a tearful parting. By Carl's long
custom, Tam and Claire did not watch him out of sight, but went back
into the house before he went around the last turn into the forest
and down the hill.

===

Every day after that, they talked to Carl on the phone for a few
minutes. Mostly they just told funny stories about their day,
but twice Carl had news of Tam's Mom. It was never good, but Tam
listened carefully and asked the right questions. Carl began to be
very impressed with the maturity and insight of his niece. Once, she
even talked politics, and did not sound like a complete idiot. Claire
had no idea, no idea whatsoever, where Tam's views had come from,
or how she had heard about the issue at hand, since no newspaper came
to the house, and the TV was never on.

===

Every day, Tam gave Erika some paci time at her breast. ("Not in the
public rooms," Claire said, "and be sure the door and drapes are
closed.") She only got bit once, and Erica looked very contrite,
as if she had simply forgotten. And truth, it had been a rather
absent-minded feeling little nibble.

Every night, Tam had her milk nightcap with Claire. And learned to
call it a "nightcap".

Every night, Tam would go to her own bed, where she would sit up
reading for another hour or two before falling asleep.

Every morning, Claire would find Tam curled up at her feet, not even
wearing panties.

======= 

Disclaimer: Of course this is a work of fiction, and I made
all these people up.

SFnal elements: Neither Child Protective Services nor STDs exist in
Tam's world. This, and a few other dramatic anomalies, will not be
explained, because damn it, we're here for the fantasy sex.

CPS, STDs, etc., definitely do exist in our world; you are warned.

=

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