Posted by: Admin on Tuesday, August 13, 2002 - 02:10 AM
By Constance Grant
Copyright (c) 1999, 2000 by Constance Grant Manasquan, NJ all rights reserved
This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to actual persons or events is unintended.
If it's illegal for you to read this - DON'T.
This began as a short story, so much for good intentions!
My thanks to HR Music for his wit and patience. Without his editing and suggestions, this would be a much poorer effort.
Also thanks to Lacey Deveraux of the sharp eyed Deveraux, for uncovering more lurking bugs.
All of which would be unnecessary had this author been more skilful. Remaining errors are mine, the corrections were, well - correct.
This is a preview version build 17, and has not edited for final publication.
Constance Grant, Manasquan NJ December, 1999
Do not forget little one, when one is given great gifts,
a great price may be extracted.
Chapter 1 - In the Beginning
All things truly wicked start from an innocence.
Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961)
. . . I had ridden this trail a hundred times; Marshal, the horse I was riding could navigate it at a gallop by the dawn's half-light. But today he slowed to a walk near the lily pond near the rear of the estate, you know, near the fieldstone wall. It was a soft morning, seemingly too warm for the wisps of mist clinging to the lake's surface. I heard a horse whinny in recognition of Marshal's presence.
At thirteen my first impulse was to sneak up on whoever was there and shout boo. When I left the new stable a half-hour ago, the other five horses were still their stalls, so whoever was here must have just arrived. I looped Marshal's rein around a low branch, and walked up to the bluff overlooking the lake, and the Hudson River shimmering golden in the distance.
Christina was standing in the soft light of dawn, far more beautiful than any model; she was even more beautiful than God's dawn. I stood admiring her beauty, it was a minute until she sensed my presence, and turning to me she said, "This is so beautiful Nicholas. Do you come here often?"
I untied my tongue, it seemed to take forever until I could finally say, "Yes Christina, but without you it will never again look the same to me."
She smiled, and then sitting down on the watcher's stone she requested, "Come sit by me, we will enjoy the view together."
So, Becky we sat together for a good hour, and after a while, she held my hand. I was so absorbed by her presence I can't remember what we talked about, I guess as they say in the books everything and nothing. Becky I know it's unrealistic of me, very foolish, but now I'm just fifteen and I have never wavered from that moment two years ago. I love her so, sometimes so deeply it hurts. You must be sick of my telling you about it by now, but thank you for not saying so, as it gives me joy to share my feelings with you.
The most wonderful thing happened early this morning, a fantasy extension to that memory. I would die if she knew, but I have to tell you, as you are the only person who will understand that I love her, and am not just telling a dirty story. I'm not thinking impure and licentious thoughts, because, regardless of what Brother Mark says, those two words can't exist in the same context as Christina.
Just before I woke today I was reliving my favorite memory half-awake, half-asleep, but this time, in my dream she kissed me after holding my hand. Then we were hugging and lying back on the cool moist grass. We were kissing so our tongues were probing each other's mouths, just like in Hemmingway's 'For Whom the Bell Tolls.'
Somehow my pants were open and dickey was very hard, I've told you how that's been happening to me a lot, even when I'm not thinking of Christina, sometimes at the most inappropriate moments. Anyway, in the dream it was most appropriate. We were holding each other warmly and dickey was in the most wonderful warm place, I think between Christina's legs, but I think not in her pussy.
Then this feeling of total ecstasy, a wonderful sensation unlike anything that I have ever felt overcame me, and just as wave after wave of feeling washed over me, I fully woke up. I must confess my jockey shorts were a yucky mess. I know it's called a wet dream; the other boys talk about it like it's a joke, but let me tell you it's truly beautiful. I just wish I could share my ecstasy physically with Christine, it is entirely too wonderful to keep to myself.
Thank you for letting me share this moment with you, I need to post this now and I hope I will find a letter from you.
As ever, your devoted and loving brother.
Nicholas, May 20, 1998
PS: I can't wait until I see you in twelve days for a whole summer, I'm literally counting the hours - 284 as of now!
PS: Don't give into to Alexis; I'm sure Aunt Jen is on your side. I will lend my voice when I get home.
It surely isn't how I expected life to unfold when I wrote that letter to Becky many years ago, but if I don't reflect too deeply, it's better.
Let me start at the beginning. I was first of a set of twins born about seven AM on April 19, 1983, unfortunately my mom died minutes after my sister was born. As we got older dad, Robert Vincent Hayes, explained that mom had died from a previously undiagnosed heart condition - and that we should not blame ourselves, but Becky and I always felt that deep down he did, I know we did. Nevertheless, he named me Nicholas Robert after his dad, and my sister Rebecca Anne after our mom.
After mom's death, dad led a carefree life of adventure. He was a photojournalist and traveled much of the time to various places throughout the world - chasing one hot story after another. His twin sister, Jennifer Marie Hayes-Ravlon, Aunt Jen to me, joyfully took over the task of raising Becky and I, just days after our birth. Aunt Jen's daughter Nicola was two days older than Becky and I, and Aunt Jen insisted on nursing us all as her own for the first months of our lives, and always referred to us as her children. We had joint birthday parties each April 18 as if we were triplets
- as we truly felt we were. I was their brother, and they were my sisters in every material way, if not biologically or in law. Often it seemed we children could read each other's minds and feelings, Becky and I were particularly close, and we could not mask the truth or our actual feelings from each other.
In addition to raising us, Aunt Jen continued with the active management of the Hayes conglomerate. After mom's death dad chose not to partake at all in the active management of the business, and in fact signed over his half interest's voting rights to Aunt Jen. However, as I got older, I was made to understand those rights and attendant responsibilities would devolve to me whenever Aunt Jen thought I was worthy.
Mike Ravlon, Aunt Jen's husband, focused on the Ravlon division, which had been a subsidiary of Hayes since just before their marriage. I always thought it smacked of joining of great houses, or alliances of blood between countries, but then I always had a very active imagination.
Raising children is never easy, but the family was especially wealthy, which eased Aunt Jen's task immeasurably. The household staff numbered nineteen, eight of whom lived in. Our Nanny Heidi, her helpers Jose and Sally, Aunt Jen's personal maid Jody, the head groundskeeper Kyle, the chauffeur Giles, the head housekeeper Mrs. Hammer, and her husband the chief, Chief Robert as everybody called him.
We were brought up in a lovely home, the same home where dad and Aunt Jen were raised, as well as seven previous generations of the Hayes family. Physically the mansion was located a few miles south of Nyack, NY and was a sprawling Edwardian structure set in fifty acres of pristine land overlooking the Hudson River.
Aunt Jen is a warm and loving person, she took a real interest in raising all of us, and I always considered her my real mom. While she was very active in business, from the time we were infants she would read to us each night, and when we were old enough we would each read to her. Even if she expected company, she would sit with us through our supper meal in the clubroom, most often eating her supper with us. When Uncle Mike or dad was in town, we would all take our meals together in the formal dining room. By example, she taught us to be polite and witty, discussing the day's activities and world events during meals. Even though I had to shower first and wear a jacket and tie, it was a treasured time of day for me.
Aunt Jen insisted on truthfulness from us in our dealings with her, and if we told the truth we were seldom punished, however if we lied to her it would go worse for us. In fact, most of the time we were smart, and told Aunt Jen the truth.
Once, when I was about seven, I cut down several prize roses in the hothouse while imagining I was John Paul Jones defending Old Ironsides, and I lied about doing it to Aunt Jen at the dinner table. Becky knew the truth, and of course said nothing, but after dinner, she asked me what I was going to do now. We talked it over and decided the right thing was to tell Aunt Jen at dinner the next evening.
The next night, as soon as we sat down I told Aunt Jen in front of everyone that I had lied. She told me, "Nicholas I'm very disappointed you found it necessary to lie to me, but I am pleased that you rectified your mistake. To help you remember the lesson in the future, I would appreciate your bringing me a dozen fresh roses to my room every morning before school, for a month. Further, I would like for you to personally select, cut, and arrange the flowers for me - without wearing gloves."
At first, Becky helped me select the roses and directed their arrangement in the vase, but I cut and handled the roses myself. The first day my hands were a mess with many scratches, no matter how careful I was, it seemed a thorn was always in the way. However, by the end of the month my touch was so controlled I could do the whole job myself without a scratch. The last day of my duty Aunt Jen held my scratch free hands and kissed them saying, "I see you have learned more then one lesson dear, I'm very proud of you." So was I, and even after the punishment I would bring her roses frequently.
Uncle Mike, and dad when he was home, spent a lot of time with me, 'To rescue you from all the damn girls in the house!' Uncle Mike would boom. Chef Robert spent a lot of time with me as well, and I became a pretty fair chief by the age of ten. I always felt like a boy, as Aunt Jen made sure I joined cub scouts and later boy scouts, little league, I even took karate achieving a black belt. I was an excellent horseman and practiced polo, often with Uncle Mike. Uncle Mike and dad took me hunting, deep sea fishing, and shooting at every opportunity, they saw to it that I had golf, tennis, squash, hell you name it, and I took lessons, and enjoyed doing it. Occasionally dad took me on trips with him if they promised to be short, and was in a safe location.
On rainy days I often played dress up with my sisters, they loved to dress me in a tux and pretend I was the bridegroom of one of them getting married, in return they played with my trucks, cars, and trains. In all we were very happy growing up in an atmosphere of mutual love, and deprived or mistreated in no way.
That all changed, after our tenth birthday - on June twentieth dad remarried. Alicia was a well-known television journalist specializing in foreign assignments. They had met on several common assignments; she was gorgeous, bright, and totally disinterested in raising children. Nevertheless, Becky and I moved in her large Manhattan apartment with them. Shortly thereafter dad decided that we would be far better off in boarding school, he had gone to boarding school and maintained, "It builds character, it may take a few weeks, but you will both love it."
In fact, Becky and I overheard Alexis shouting to Dad late one night, "Either you get those whiney brats out of here, or I'm out of here!" What the hell did she expect, whenever dad's back was turned, she was always pinching us.
I was sent to Saint Bernard's Academy in northern New Jersey and Becky to Saint Mary's outside Philadelphia, PA. To say we were unhappy is a gross understatement, but no matter how many buckets of tears were shed, two months and one week after dad remarried we were installed in our respective schools. In retrospect, the only thing that made our time apart bearable was our letters to each other. Every week without fail, mostly three or four times a week we exchanged letters. Long candid letters in which we held nothing back from each other.
In truth, our schools were very good and the respective staffs of nuns or brothers cared for us and educated us, but they did not love us - except in the generic biblical sense. We were both very intelligent, I found out my IQ by sneaking a look at my records - during a session when my guidance counselor was called out of the office - it was one hundred and sixty six.
Moments later, Brother Clement caught me looking, he smiled and said, "When your IQ is that high, the test numbers are totally unreliable. I don't want you to get a swelled head, but over several different tests your results are consistently the highest I've ever seen."
Becky and I appeared to be doing very well, seeming to adjust and I'm sure dad never doubted for a moment that he did the right thing by us. We were out of Alicia's sight, and that was all she cared about. Between the two of them, they spent most of the time on assignment, and it turned out that from the time they were married the only holiday we spent with them was a few days at Christmas, and a week or two in the summer. Some years not even that.
Fortunately Aunt Jen more then filled in for them, I was closer and could reasonably come home most weekends, Becky made it every other weekend, and of course, every holiday. On the weekends Becky came home, Giles, Aunt Jen's chauffeur would pick me up at school early and I would ride to St. Mary's with him, then Becky and I would hash all the events that transpired since we parted on the ride home. I saw more of Aunt Jen then Becky, but I faithfully wrote to her all about everything, and she said that she felt that she was there with us.
When I was just thirteen Uncle Mike died of a heart attack, and as the family was very prominent, the details made the papers in dribs and drabs. Everyone tried to keep them from us children, except our schoolmates of course. It seems that Uncle Mike died while in the act, with his fifteen-year-old mistress, at the time he died. Aunt Jen was upset, but her grief was overshadowed by the ongoing revelations - within two weeks of his internment, she just looked damn angry to me.
A few weeks after his death Nicola and Becky got their first periods and Aunt Jen had them refer to her as Jennifer from then on. She became closer to the girls and frequently went shopping and things with them. Nanny Heidi developed a kidney infection about that time and Miss. Christine Maxwell was brought in to help her out. Tina as we called her, at fifteen was exceptionally beautiful and bright. She had long golden blond hair, green eyes you could fall into, the face of a model with the grace and poise to match. In a bathing suit, she was breathtaking.
Becky told me Christina had some sort of a rare health condition and she didn't attend regular school, but had private tutors, and saw a doctor three or four times a week. At the time, we thought she had some sort of a rare blood disorder, however she looked and acted just fine to me.
We all loved her, as you noted, I more than the others combined did. She in fact became a companion for Nicola and Becky (when she was in residence,) not a Nanny's assistant, and at thirteen, I fell hopelessly in love with her. Of course, the only person I told was Becky, and frequently in my letters, I would pour my heart out to her when we were parted and in person when we were together. She must have tired hearing me out, but she never gave the slightest indication that she had.
Kyle and I became close after Mike's death. He had played professional soccer in England, and when I showed a real interest in Soccer he coached my junior team, and as there were no other men available he became my de facto driver, companion and as I now know, bodyguard. He was head groundskeeper and had the eight men working for him organized like a military unit, and in fact, he had a lot of spare time to devote to me without the grounds suffering one iota.
On the most exciting day of my fourteen and a half years, he saved my life and I saved his. The car we mostly used was a big old white Mercedes, affectionately nicknamed the tank. We were on our way back from the Paramus Fencing School, late one cold Saturday afternoon in early November 1997. Snow was falling and the roads were icing when a car seemed to deliberately cut us off forcing us toward the river. Kyle recovered beautifully, and avoided hitting anything and regained the road. The car attempting to cut us off was not as fortunate and became stuck in the slush near the river.
Kyle continued without stopping, another car pulled up in the passing lane and I saw what looked like a Uzi machine gun pointed at us from the passenger's open window. I yanked the wheel to the right shouting to Kyle to duck, Kyle had a firm grip on the wheel and we only swerved a little, but it was enough for most of the bullets to miss him. However, they shattered the windshield and his window raining glass on us. With two powerful swipes of his gloved hand, he cleared most of the remaining plastic and glass from the windshield.
There were quite a few cars on the road, but despite the other cars, the wind and wet snow pelting our faces, Kyle accelerated and began to pull away from the other car. A mile on we hit a slick of ice just as Kyle had to swerve to miss a head on collision with an oncoming car, itself in an out of control skid. We ended up off the parkway in a ditch.
We both piled out and raced to the rear of the car; I had the presence of mind to grab my equipment bag where a cell phone was stowed. The car chasing us stopped and two men got out and began to fire at us with Uzi machine guns. To my surprise, Kyle pulled out a gun and fired back hitting one of the attackers immediately.
As shots were exchanged I crouched down behind our car and hit the redial on the cell phone, it happened Giles picked up on the first ring. I succinctly explained what was happening, and where we were, but just then, Kyle was hit, and it looked bad to me as he dropped like a rock. I passed that to Giles, he told me to hang up, and he would get help to us, and call right back.
I picked up Kyle's gun from the snow and looked around our car, two of the attackers were down, but a third man holding a pistol was getting out of the back of his car. I fired at him twice and the slide of my gun locked back indicating it was out of cartridges. Fortunately, whoever the dapper man was, he didn't like to be shot at, he hastily got back in the car, and it pulled away. I ran up and memorized the license plate and make of car as it pulled away.
Then I looked after Kyle. He was shot several times; the most obvious was a neck wound that was bleeding heavily. I made a compress out of my handkerchief and held it to the wound slowing down the blood flow appreciably.
It seemed forever until a NJ Highway Patrol car screeched to a stop, and within minutes, an ambulance arrived with paramedics a car length behind. I wanted to go to the hospital with Kyle, but as I was uninjured, the State policeman insisted that I stay with him. Within minutes, there were a dozen police cars on the scene, and as I wasn't very nice to the first patrolman, I was locked out or reach of my phone in the rear of his patrol car.
Then Giles pulled up in the limo, and soon several other men pulled up and conferred with him; at least one of which was a family lawyer. I was brought to the State Police barracks, and gave a complete statement with our lawyer present. Because the (overbearing first) State Trooper on the scene had not paid attention to my attempts to tell them what had happened, the attackers got clean away. Except for the two Kyle had killed. I did have the useless satisfaction of having every part of my story verified, including the description of the dapper man in overcoat and the attacker's car, which had been stolen and was found ditched in a mall parking lot.
Late that night Giles drove me to the hospital and we saw Kyle briefly, he was going back into surgery and it was the last time that I would see him for several years. I missed Kyle badly, as we had really grown quite close.
Earlier, when I reached Giles he was on his way back from Kennedy airport after dropping Jennifer off. She was on her way to Japan over the polar route and could not be reached for nearly twelve hours. I went back to school Sunday night and didn't see her for two weeks. Outside of complimenting me for keeping a cool head, it was years before she mentioned the incident to me again.
On the way to school, I rode to Philadelphia with Becky and we hashed the whole incident every which way. Our conclusion was that it was an aborted attempt to kidnap me, failing that to kill me, but outside of being rich, we couldn't figure a motive. Becky could see that I was upset and began to tell me details of her Saturday, shopping, hairdresser, and such with Jennifer, Nicola, and Tina. The normalcy of her day calmed me, and I always wanted to hear every detail of what Tina did.
On the way back to my school when we were alone Giles only said I would not be that exposed in the future, and not to worry. He also told me Kyle would live, but that he had a million dollar wound, and as soon as he was able, he was returning home to Scotland to recover. He had me tell him all the details and was very interested in my description of the dapper man, but he told me little more than I knew. He did say that it would be best if I didn't talk to my classmates about the incident - I didn't.
Chapter 2 - Tragedy's Aftermath
When you close your eyes to tragedy, you close your eyes to greatness. Stephen Vizinczey (b. 1933)
I was almost fifteen and at school when it happened, while watching a little league game Nicola was hit in the head by a foul ball. Mrs. Hammer called me at the academy and I immediately went AWOL, hitching rides to get home, but by the time I arrived, Nicola had died from an embolism in her brain - a million to one occurrence the doctors said.
Becky hitched too and showed up a few hours after I, and between us, we helped Aunt Jen get through the worst of it. I went back to school a few weeks later, just in time for finals, and had no trouble making up what I had missed. Hell, even though I was in the most advanced classes offered I was a good year ahead in my books anyway.
Becky refused to go back to St. Mary's demanding to stay with Aunt Jen. Dad approved (they were in South Africa at the time covering a story) but Alexis vetoed the idea, before the issue was resolved summer vacation was on us, and Becky was still with Aunt Jen.
A few months later tragedy struck again, it was three weeks before school started for the fall term. Dad and Alicia sent for Becky, so that she could spend a week with them in France. I was to come the following week. In Alicia's words, "So that the children could individually reacquaint themselves with us." Becky finished Alexis' thought, "And I can break your legs, chain and lock you up in Philadelphia."
To which I replied, "Yeah, the inconsiderate bitch, don't you give in to her! I don't believe Aunt Jen will make you - not when push comes to shove, and believe me I'll make sure that it will. 'Reacquaint themselves...' gag me with a damn spoon. Stupid woman, we would much rather be on vacation together."
It happened on the sidewalk outside the American Embassy. Sudanese terrorists made a statement with a bomb - and Becky, Alicia, and dad was killed.
I went to Aunt Jen's room as soon as I heard the news, and she was inconsolable, regardless of physical distance, she and dad telephoned and wrote frequently - they were very close; she was in such a state a doctor was called and gave her tranquilizers.
I spent a lot of time with her until I went back to school, she seemed to enjoy my reading to her, and I spent hours in the sunroom reading poems and short stories. I was terribly sad and missed Becky so very much, the only good thing was that Christina spent a lot of time with me - just riding, walking, and talking. At the time, Tina didn't replace Becky by any means, but she did draw me back from the depression I was falling into. I suggested to Aunt Jen that I delay further going back to school, but she insisted dad would want my education continued.
Reluctantly, and with a heavy heart I left for school in mid October. It was awful for me there, my mailbox was mostly empty, and each day as I passed it, it reminded me with a knife in my guts, a knife bearing the message 'never again.' To keep my mind off my loss the Brothers roped me into one time-consuming assignment after another. While I'm sure they were well intended, it didn't work, and it just kept me from going home.
As Thanksgiving neared, I firmly refused any new assignments; I cleared leaving school on the Friday before Thanksgiving with the rector and called Mrs. Hammer. She sent the limo for me, during the ride home Giles told me Aunt Jen was still inconsolable. He was clear that they were all very worried about her withdrawal from everything - he was visibly very upset at her condition, and that was not like Giles to show any emotion.
He wasn't exaggerating; when I first went into her room, I didn't recognize her. She was a beautiful woman, and normally she was tastefully made up and fastidious in her appearance. Two years before, after a short, but decent interval, she'd successfully resumed the day-to-day management of the conglomerate. Even after Nicola's death she resumed work after a few weeks, but now, months latter, she hadn't even looked at the two-foot high stack of papers marked 'Urgent' waiting on her desk. I looked at her closely, noticing that she was drawn and had lost considerable weight. She wasn't a heavy woman to begin with, but at five seven, I doubted she now weighed ninety pounds.
She smiled when she saw me, but when I asked if she would like me to read to her, she replied, "Not now dear, maybe later." Attempts to draw her into conversation were also fruitless; in fact, she fell asleep in mid sentence talking to me.
After supper, I had a momentous talk with Christina in the study.
"God, but I m glad you are home." She said with real feeling.
"Isn't there something we can do, anyone can do?"
"There have been a gaggle of doctors and priests in and out, but nothing they do seems to snap her out of it. The medication stops the crying, but doesn't seem to help her otherwise. She is just wasting away. If something isn't done, I'm afraid she will die from a broken heart or worse. Giles told me she requested a pistol from him, some nonsense about possible burglars."
I thought of Great-grandfather Hayes who had shot himself in this very room. "Christ, so that's why he was so worried about her, he didn't tell me about a gun."
"Yes, she has it in the night table on her side of the bed. Giles gave it to her unloaded, but she asked for the cartridges a day later and he had to give them to her."
"When was that?"
"Just this Wednesday. Look Nicholas, that woman means more to me then you can possibly imagine. I know you love and care for her deeply - its up to us, we must do something, and soon!" She leaned over and gripped my leg for emphasis, sending totally inappropriate shivers of desire to my brain.
"Ok, clearly we have to make her focus on something besides her grief, something to absolutely demand her attention, something she can't ignore."
"I have tried everything I could think of, I even dressed up like Nicola and then Becky and tried to engage her, but she looked at me a long time finally saying, 'Thank you dear, I truly love you, but you aren't my blood.' That hurt me, but it's true."
"I even tried inventing problems with Mrs. Hammers help, but Jennifer just said listlessly, 'Handle it yourselves.'"
"You were on the right track, we just have to come up with something she can't ignore."
"Say your voice hasn't changed yet, are you up to try something drastic?"
That cut me to the quake, but I had to admit it was true. I swallowed my pride and said, "What did you have in mind?"
"I think I was on the right track with the impersonation idea, Jennifer did perk up for several minutes at first, then she crashed. You basically have a strong family resemble to Becky and to a lesser extent to Nicola, I think I can make you look a lot like either of them in the right clothes."
"Damn, besides my feelings, which are summed up in one word - 'yuck,' would Becky want me impersonating her?"
"I know she would want to help Jennifer any way she could, besides when you were kids didn't you play dress up with the girls?"
"Yeah, but I dressed up in a tux and married them, or in Ken outfits and they wore Barbie things, I can't remember ever dressing in girl's clothes."
"Are you willing to give it a try?"
"If you think it will help, and if I get caught by anyone, you must promise to be my witness that I'm doing it for this reason only. Promise?"
"Of course, we have to get started now if you are to bring her breakfast to her as Becky tomorrow."
"Er, how come. I'll just find a dress that fits and just bring her breakfast to her."
"It's not that easy, if you are going to be convincing, and not a travesty, you have to get into your role as a girl, you need to prepare."
"Are you sure this will work?"
"No, but it's the only idea I have, and if you are as cleaver with her as I think you will be - yes I do believe it will work. I will be with you the whole time helping you get ready, but you will have to see and convince her alone." She put her hand on my thigh again.
That was the clincher.
Chapter 3 - The First Time
A single day is enough to make us a little larger or, another time, a little smaller.
Paul Klee (1879-1940)
"I think its best that you stay in Becky's room and imagine that you are her. At times I used to help her with everything, and I will do the same for you." I felt a terrible sense of loss as I entered her room, but then I thought I felt a hand, Becky's hand in mine, and I felt welcome. "Please undress while I run your bath." Tina continued.
"Damn, are you sure this step is necessary?" Undressing in front of women was not embarrassing to me, after all Aunt Jen and nannies had cared for me all my life, but Tina was different - at least I hoped to make her so.
"Yes it is, don't be embarrassed, I had brothers and have seen everything." Not the answer I was hoping for.
While Tina was fussing in the bathroom I made up my mind, ok I will do what it takes to get Aunt Jen back on track. I grinned at my reflection in the mirror thinking, 'I guess this qualifies as anything.' I matter of factly undressed; this sure was nothing like the seduction fantasy I had been building in my mind for many months.
Tina came back in the room appearing to take no notice of my nakedness and saying, "Lets see what fits an what doesn't." First, I tried on several pairs of shoes but all of them were very snug.
"I guess that shoots down this idea." I said hopefully.
"No, not at all, Nicola's feet were larger than Becky's. Wait a minute I'll be right back. Oh, please watch the tub for me."
I went into the bathroom and thought at first it was overflowing, but it was just the suds from the bubble bath. However, I sat on the hamper and watched it as it filled. The sound of the water relaxed me and took my mind off what we were about.
Soon Tina was back with an armful of shoes and called to me, I turned off the water and joined her in the bedroom. Over a pair of Becky's knee-highs these shoes fit perfectly - I was distressed to note.
Then Tina looked in Becky's underwear draws and selected several items. The first she tried on me was a boned waist cincher with garters, which while snug was not too tight, Tina nodded with satisfaction at the effect. I remembered Becky complaining about having to wear one for some outfits, and my quick answer of how grown up it made her look - what goes around, comes around.
Then Tina ran her hands all over my body observing the little blond hair I had on my body was unnoticeable, embarrassingly dickey was coming to full attention, something no one beside myself had seen. She was squatting in front of me checking my legs for hair when she said, "Now that's much more then I expected." Seeing my red face she quickly continued, "Don't worry, its very normal and healthy, I'll help you with it later."
Still blushing I tried on a bra, I was surprised to note it was padded, smiling Tina adjusted it saying, "Becky needed a little help last year, this is just what you need to start with." While she helped me off with it I remembered Becky telling me how grown up she felt at the time. Dickey was bobbing at full attention now.
"Good, the basics fit, get into the tub, and begin to imagine that you are a lovely girl."
I was glad to get in the tub and hide dickey under concealing bubbles, it may not have embarrassed Tina, but it sure as hell did me. Tina told me to lean back and she would do everything for me, she folded a towel to pillow head telling me to close my eyes as she stroked my head. In minutes, I felt the tension drain out of me as the fragrant bubbles and her caress worked their magic.
She must have been in tune with my body, as no sooner had I relaxed completely, she had me stand and started to rub soap filled sponges all, and I do mean all, over my body. But it only served to further relax me, and I found it unbelievably pleasant. I knew Becky took a bubble bath every night, sometimes with Tina assisting, and I was thinking, 'Why didn't she tell me, really tell me, how very fine this is?'
Soaping over, Tina had me sit back in the tub while she shampooed my hair, rinsing with the aid of a spray hose. Then she told me she was applying rinse to it. Finally rinsing that pleasant smelling concoction out, I said, "That's silly, rinsing the rinse."
She giggled, "So much of what we do to be beautiful is, but Becky, you will see it works." Tina wrapped a towel around my head like I had seen on Becky hundreds of times. I stepped out of the tub and Tina insisted on patting me dry with a fluffy warmed towel. Then she did the most amazing thing, she rubbed my whole body down with a fragrant body lotion, and dickey went wild when he received his share, but she just said, "Becky dear, what's his name?"
"Er, I call it dickey."
"Ok dickey, just wait your turn, I promise you it will be worth it."
My senses were in overload, I didn't know if I could wait, but Tina led me into the bedroom and said, "Wait a minute." She went into Becky's draws again and returned with a robins-egg-blue short cotton nightgown and a pair of matching panties. First, she powdered me all over with a big fluffy puff, and then she had me step into the panties pulling them up snug and slipped the nightgown over my head. The material was much softer and sweeter smelling then anything I ever wore. Going to the closet, she brought out a blue satin and lace robe with matching slippers, helping me into them. I looked into the mirror and was amazed at my resemblance to Becky - this was her favorite before bed outfit.
"Wow Tina, this might just work. What do you want to do now, watch TV or read until bedtime?"
"No, I'm afraid there are a few more things we have to do before bed. I need to curl your hair, do your nails, and prepare for your makeup in the morning. I always like to do as much at night as possible, and Jennifer seems to wake early these days, I suspect she just might not sleep very well. Here sit down at the makeup table."
First Tina brushed out my hair, which was longish, as it hadn't been cut since before Becky's death. She parted it several ways experimenting, cutting a few strands as she went. From a drawer she removed a box of rollers, and from another a squeeze bottle proceeding to put my hair up on rollers.
As she started on my hair it felt very strange, but I knew Becky had done it most every night, almost immediately Tina said, "To help you get in role, let's talk a while like you are Becky. She wrote to you all the time, can you talk to me as she might, you know, as if you were she discussing things with me?"
It was awkward at first, but I had reread all her long letters sent to me the past three years many times since her death, they were filled with every day minutia, her likes, dislikes, hopes and plans. I found reading them brought me closer to her, and mitigated my sense of loss. Soon I was conversing with Tina and exchanging girl talk as I mentally read between the lines of Becky's letters.
My hair took almost a hour, as Tina had to redo and snip parts as she went along saying, "Becky, your hair is great, it's not exactly Becky's shade of blond, but it's close enough - this will work out perfectly." About halfway through my hair Tina got a bowl of warm water and had me soak my hands in it.
I was so busy talking I didn't realize Tina was through with my hair;
suddenly she was trimming cuticles, filing and shaping my fingernails. I hadn't bothered with them in a week or more (nothing new) and she had something to work with. As we continued talking, she applied a coat of primer to my fingernails and started on my toenails, ending up by putting a cotton stick between each toe and applying a primer coat to them. In total all twenty of my nails, received primer, two coats of color (cherry red, Becky's favorite) and a coat of super gloss finish.
Then she started on my face, specifically plucking my eyebrows, looking at a large picture of Becky's face for guidance, filling them in with light pencil, which she removed with cream when she was satisfied with the effect. Then she applied sweet smelling face cream, massaging it in, I told her how fantastic that felt. Smiling she squirted perfume in my hair, behind my ears and under my arms and grinning broadly my crouch. All the while, we chatted, by the time she put a pretty night net over my curlers, I felt just like I was sure Becky felt after such treatment.
Tina said, "Wait here I want to get you something." I examined my painted nails and toenails, looking in the mirror I couldn't believe I was sitting there, I remembered Becky writing often about just this kind of moment. Tina came back several minutes later with a glass of milk and another bottle of lotion. She locked the door saying, "Its time for bed now, get in, and I will give you the surprise I promised." For the first time I looked at the clock and it was almost ten, where did the three hours go since I stepped into the tub?
Once I was in bed Tina sat on the side and asked, "Have you ever been with a woman before? Sexually I mean."
I blushed deeply, but answered truthfully, "No, they don't even give us a chance to play with ourselves in school!"
"Then just relax, I will tell you what to do, and I hope the way we do it will reinforce your feminine image too. What we will do is a lot like two girls might do together."
Lying there with curlers in my head dressed in my sister's nighty, I could believe her. She slowly unbuttoned her blouse and took off her bra. I gasped at her inviting breasts, I could see the nipples were hard and I wished to take them in my mouth.
"Touch them very softly, just like your fingers are feathers." I did as she sat next to me, even though my hands were quivering and dickey was pushing my panties out. As I touched her, she touched my nipples through the soft material. Noticing dickey, she freed him by pulling my panties down, allowing him to stand straight up. We touched each other's breasts and she said, "Follow what I do to you as closely as you can, be very gentle, imagine your hands are mine."
We played follow the leader for almost fifteen minutes, touching with increasing sureness, and I couldn't believe the delightful sensations her touches and kisses were causing me. And judging by her quivering and little moans, for her too.
"Is this how girls feel?" I asked her.
"This is how true lovers feel." She moved and removed her skirt and panties keeping on her stockings and garter belt, and kneeled over me. "Yes Becky, see this," spreading her lower lips to revile a tiny finger like organ hidden within. This is my clit, it's a lot like your dickey, please lick it and these very lightly, follow the leader, until I have my organism, and I will be doing the same to your clit, I mean dickey."
I followed her instructions and we did kiss, nip, and lick each other, I mirrored her every move. Her musk was incredibly erotic, but somehow dickey behaved and we spent several minutes doing each other, I really was arousing her - her clit and lips became swollen and quivered at my touch - and of course I was far beyond overload. At the end she took my clit fully into her mouth, and I filled it with my seed which she swallowed saying afterward, "That is so sweet of you to share your love with me Becky, you are a wonderful sensitive lover." We waited a few minutes holding each other, she got a washcloth and wiped my face and dickey off thoroughly, and then powdering it's sleeping form she pulled up the panties and the nighty down.
Tina gave me a pill, explaining, "This is one of Aunt Jen's sleeping pills, you might need it as the curlers in your hair will likely keep you awake until you get used to them." I took the pill and drank the milk while Tina turned off the light and closed my door.
Chapter 4 - A Dream
The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear- Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year.
Emily Dickinson (1830-86)
I have no proof if what I'm about to relate happened in reality, but I firmly believe that it did. It was the first, but by no means the last time Becky came to me like this.
***It was very dark and I couldn't see the clock, my eyes focused on a small bright spot, which seemed to grow in size until it formed a portal, and Becky stepped out of it into the room. She sat on the bed, but I couldn't feel the bed move. "Becky is that really you?" I thought.
"Yes, it's really me." Becky's voice said in my head. "This is a wonderful unselfish thing you are doing Nicholas, we are proud of you here."
"You mean you can see us. Great God, you saw what we did just did?"
"Yes, and it was pretty nice wasn't it?" She said with a smile.
"You guys did that too?"
"No silly, but it's right for you two."
"I hope it is, it's the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me, you know how much I love her. How are you doing, I've missed you terribly."
"It's nice here; our real mom, Alicia, and dad are all here together. Don't worry about doing things with Tina, what you did wasn't bad, in fact it is necessary if you are to take my place. If all goes well I will live in your body beside you."
"That would be great, but doesn't dad think I'm weird doing this?"
Dad stepped through the portal with a woman I don't ever remember meeting, but I knew was my mom from pictures. "Son, both mom and I are proud of you, impersonate Becky as well as you can and Aunt Jen will get well, and by then you may be surprised as well." They all stepped back into the portal before I could say anything.***
I went back to sleep feeling very warm inside, and if it were a dream, I remember every detail perfectly, even decades later as I write this.
Chapter 5 - Metamorphoses
Being a sex symbol has to do with an attitude, not looks. Most men think it's looks, most women know otherwise.
Kathleen Turner (b. 1956)
I woke in the morning to Tina's smiling face saying, "Rise and shine sleepyhead. Ms. Becky the world awaits your debut."
I glanced at the clock as I swung my feet over the side of the bed, it was five o'clock, and Tina put Becky's slightly elevated slippers on my feet. I lifted up her face and asked, "May I kiss you darling Christine?"
She smiled and said, "Yes after you brush your teeth and have your makeup on, I will show you how girls in love kiss. Do you still want to go through with this? I don't want to force you."
"Yes, let's do it."
I started to do the necessary.
Tina looked in and said, "From now on sit down when you do that, and in some dresses I might have to help you." I looked at her quizzically but she didn't elaborate, then I showered with a large puffy shower cap on and brushed my teeth.
Out of the shower, Tina patted me dry and powdered me, and I put Becky's robe back on. Back in the bedroom, I sat at the makeup table and Tina tied a bib around my neck. "Today I will do it all for you and explain every step as I go, remember it's taken me years to perfect the techniques, but you will learn quickly if you practice in your spare time.
Becky, this is foundation. This particular selection is extremely sheer, as your skin is already very good; it will just make it look a little smoother.
This powder will set the foundation and absorb any excess oil in your skin. Feel your cheek, now feel my cheek... see just the same." Dickey leaped to attention. Noticing Tina smiled.
"I like to do my eyes next, for daytime makeup it's fast, two minutes or so, but evening makeup can take upwards fifteen minutes.
For daytime, I skip the eyeliner steps. Now a light eye shadow, a pastel blue looks nice on you. Look; see how I feather it so it blends in.
Add a little mascara. Now you have to stop blinking every time I approach your eye with the brush! Use some willpower I won't hurt you! There, that's much better; you will be doing this yourself in no time. Notice the color is light brown, but see how it brings out your lashes, which by the way are beautiful and totally wasted on a boy.
Now I'll bring out your eyebrows with this pencil, see, I did get it right the first time.
Personally, I always use a long lasting lip liner, that way I can apply my lipstick the rest of the day without worrying about exactly hitting the edges when I touch it up. This is an important step and is almost an art. Your lips need to be a tad fuller so put a dot here, then one here and on the other side, connect them using a smooth arcs like so, the same with the lower lip
- like so. Now you fill in the color, like so, using a conventional lipstick." She filled in my lips, "now purse them like so and the first application in the morning blot and color again. Ok, I like to wait a minute or so before blotting the second time, doesn't it feel creamy and yummy? I love lipstick. That's about it except for the blush, it highlights the cheekbones, but yours are already very good, so just a little like so. Blend it with a tissue, now blot your lipstick like so. That's excellent, look at the result." Becky looked back at me from the mirror; I had to stick my tongue out to be sure it was I.
Tina handed me an eight by ten of Becky explaining, "The cosmetologists at Jennifer's Ravlon subsidiary selected Becky's basic makeup and gave her photos of each for day, evening and formal. This picture is a mirror image, just as you see yourself in the mirror." I moved up close to the mirror and the resemblance was unsettling. "It is especially important your make up is perfect, as cosmetics are one of the cornerstones of the companies business, Aunt Jen was quite particular about that for you girls, and herself before her illness.
Now I'll let your hair out." Tina removed the rollers and fiddled with it, frowning slightly, "We have to get you to a hairdresser soon, the color isn't quite right and it needs a professional perm."
"Hey, can we reverse all this when I have to go to school next week?"
"Sure, and besides nobody pays that much attention to the color of a boy's hair." I sure as heck didn't.
"Now lets get you dressed." I noticed on the bench at the foot of the bed several undies laid out. I took off my robe. "Lets get your cinch on, don't frown, besides nipping your waist it will remind you to sit straight, you need the reminder, you were slouching at the makeup table. Just imagine I'm hugging you, giving you a gentle reminder that you are Becky now, and that you must sit up straight. Don't worry we will work on one thing at a time, the real Becky tended to slouch a little too. Just remember how straight my posture is, and emulate it. You like the way I look don't you?"
"God yes, you are gorgeous."
"Well, good posture is one of the reasons I project that impression." Dickey was at attention, Tina kissed me lightly on the ear, and whispered, "I will help you with that in a minute, it mustn't show in your dress." After last night, I wasn't embarrassed at all, just hopeful. "Put your stockings on now, bunch them like you have seen Becky do and slip them on." After two tries for each leg, I got them on and fastened the garters; I stepped back into the slippers and put on a bra, with Tina fastening it for me. The sheer stockings felt strange, nice strange; I smoothed them - very nice strange.
"Becky most girls don't wear stockings these days, in fact they wear pants and not skirts, but I like to wear stockings and skirts. I find they make me feel so much more feminine, besides Jennifer preferred you girls dressed this way, at least at home." I knew Becky had mixed feelings about this;
on the one hand, she liked how she looked in skirts, on the other she wanted to fit in with her friends. "Come into the bathroom with me."
Standing before the mirrored wall Tina said, "Look at yourself dear, sexy aren't you, just imagine we are two girls in love, now for your kiss."
Carefully, slowly our lips touched, I know I felt a spark of electricity. We remained like that for a minute, our lips lightly engaged, and our tongues gently probing each other seductively, our hands roving.
"What I want you to do now is to touch your breasts lightly through your bra, use your nails and finger tips, remember last night? Imagine I am doing yours and you are doing mine, look at your painted nails tweaking your titties through the bra, now look at how sexy you are." Dickey was quivering, Tina stood behind me, and reached around to run her nails lightly up and down dickey, I molded myself to her moaning with pleasure. She put some fine lotion on dickey, it was terribly erotic to watch her small hands stroking dickey while I was dressed in Becky's undies, imagining Tina's hands loving my nipples through Becky's bra. After a minute of ecstasy dickey erupted, as I kneaded my breasts and nipples Tina continued milking until the last of my seed was ejected splattering on the mirror.
I leaned back into her and she wrapped her arms around me, I gasped "My god Tina, where did you learn to do that."
After our breathing slowed down she said, "Someday I'll tell you, but right now you must get dressed."
Back in the room, I stepped into panties and a full slip, followed by an amber plaid dress with a full skirt short puff sleeves.
Tina zipped it for me saying, "This was Becky's favorite day dress, do a twirl, and model it for me." Laughing, I did as asked before the full-length mirror. "Now curtsey, like this, again." We did it together several times until I got it right. "Let me help you with your shoes." I lifted one foot at a time and she put pumps with two-inch heels in a matching color on my feet. "Perfect, let me see a curtsey now, it feels a little different in heels, doesn't it." She said smiling.
Next came a necklace with a delicate gold and emerald cross.
I said, "I remember the Christmas two years ago that Aunt Jen gave this to Becky, she loved it and wore it all the time." A dozen or so thin gold bracelets on my left and a watch on my right wrist, followed by little gold and emerald clip on earrings.
"Oh Becky that's just perfect, lets go down to the kitchen and get Aunt Jen's breakfast tray."
"Yikes, I just thought, what will everyone else say?"
"I've told them you are Becky, and the word of your death was premature. Only Mr. and Mrs. Hammer know, and they are fully behind this plot."
When I went downstairs everyone called me Becky with not a single strange glance, only Chef Robert smiled, and said, "We are still the best chef's in the house - eh," with a big wink.
There were no flowers on the tray, so I walked out to the greenhouse for some roses and baby breath. The breeze rustling my skirt was a strange feeling, pleasant, but at the same time, I felt very exposed. I remembered Becky explaining the feeling to me, but I never really understood it until now. Back in the kitchen, I brought the flower-adorned tray upstairs.
Note: Part I & II & III & IV & V