T.I.M.

'Both.'

'If you knew him in his proper form you wouldn't allow him near you, let alone open your legs for him. Which gives him a problem. While, like any man he wants to fuck beautiful girls, more importantly he wants sons and that means young nubile females of child bearing age. The very ones who wont look at him.'

'You mean he's trying to get me pregnant!'

'Definately.'

'But why me?'

'Why not you? It's not especially you. He's been doing this for many years and while he has sometimes been successful in getting his conquests with child, to date all his progeny have been girls. At least we think so. There is a whisper that some twenty years ago one of the girls he took had a boy.'

'So why, especially, sons?'

'Because only males can inherit his monstrosity, and will themselves invisible. He must have an heir to carry on his depraved ways.'

'If he only comes when he is invisible how do you know what he looks like?'

'Because while he can't be seen directly, his reflection can. Why do you think I have all these mirrors?'

'So how did you find all this out?'

'At first by accident. I was a fisherman's daughter and one summer when I ripened into maturity he waylayed me as I passed the headland on my way home.

'Like you, I was young and eager for a man. And, to my delight, he had great stamina - he fucked me long and often. When a few more men have used you, you'll realize no normal man can satisfy you the way he can.

'Anyway, one day he came to the cottage. At that time we only had a small mirror but, by chance I saw him reflected in it. He wasn't the best looking man around but by then he knew how to arouse me, so at first I didn't object.

'Soon, however, I found myself with child. I wanted to get rid of it. He said he'd kill me if I tried. And being invisible he could do so in a way that ensured he would never be caught. So I had the child - a girl, but made sure I didn't have another.

'Afterwards, he still took me from time to time. Not so often as before because he was amusing himself with several other girls in the village. By this time I wanted to refuse, but his threats to me and my daughter meant I couldn't say no. Then, one day when my daughter had grown up, I found he had started fucking her. He was taking his own daughter!

Ghislaine shook her head. 'I don't believe you. You could have stopped him if you wanted to.'

'How? Kill him and then try to explain how he happened to be in my room?'

'Move away. If there are other girls then he wouldn't follow all of you.'

'Easily said. But where's the money for travel, and what's to stop him killing me or any of the others as soon as he learned of our plans?'

'I'm sure you could have found a way if you really wanted to. You're making it all up. You're just envious that it's me he prefers.' Ghislaine was becoming annoyed.

'On your own head be it. I've tried to help.' The crone threw her hands up in defeat. 'Here, take this mirror; keep it with you and the next time he has you, use it to see him. Then you'll know who's telling the truth.'

Moodily Ghislaine trudged back up the path conscious of the small mirror, hard in her hot, sweaty palm. Could the old crone possibly be right? No, it was just envy. Or was it? She wanted him, couldn't get enough of him.

Back on the cliff top a slight onshore breeze had sprung up. She noticed that the small yacht had moved half-a-mile or so up the coast. Unable to decide what to do next she hesitated, kicking the turf.

'And what did that old hag say about me?' The whisper was behind her.

'You're here! Oh, Master tell me she's wrong. Tell me you don't fuck other girls. That you're not trying to give me a child. That you're not some hideous old lecher.'

Where was he? She turned and looked out to sea.

'Lies, all lies. Would I treat my beautiful darling like that.'

He was behind her. She felt his hands on her shoulders, his lips on the back of her neck. Now? Maybe? Resolve her doubts? She raised the mirror in hand and looked at the reflection of what lay behind her.

A shank of straggly white hair. Mottled hands clutching her shoulders. He raised his head. The sagging jowls. The stained, crooked teeth. The baggy, rheumy eyes. She screamed.

Jerking from his grasp she ran forward.

'Stop! Stop! Come here! You're mine. I will never let you go.'

She could hear him stumbling behind her as she rushed blindly away. The breeze was in her face. She looked up. There was nothing ahead but sky. The cliff edge! Desperately she tried to stop. Her foot skidded and she fell to her knees. The edge was a mere six feet in front. A body smashed into her. Tim fell across her, over her, on to the edge.

Time seemed to stop as she watched the dry soil of the cliff edge crumbled away. The cry was despairing, distant, the splash, when it came, faint.

Staring below Ghislaine could see the white, naked body smeared with red, floating face down in the rocky pool.

It was two months later. The days were cooler, the nights shorter when, disconsolate, Ghislaine lay on her bed idly stroking her clit. It wasn't fair.

She still hadn't found a man to replace Tim. Oh, she'd tried a few and they'd been grateful for the chance to fuck her, but none had really satisfied her needs. The crone had been right over that as well - no ordinary man could compare with what she'd lost.

Then, when she'd visited the hospital last week, the gynecologist had been positive. It was going to be a boy. Tim's son!

'Fuck, bugger, shit,' she'd never had much use for expletives so quickly exhausted her repertoire. Not that they helped.

'Things can't be that bad.' The whisper came from the foot of the bed.

'Master! Is that you? It can't be, you're dead. I killed you.'

'I wondered how he fell. He was pretty good on those cliffs. But don't worry, I'll not hold it against you. Not if you please me.'

'Who are you?'

'Oh, you've seen me about the village. One day you may work it out who I am, but for now I'll call myself 'Tim Two'. Or, if you prefer, 'Son of Tim'.'

He lifted her nightgown off over her head and gently stroked her belly. 'We'll have to take good care of you. That's my step-brother you've got in there.'

'You're that son he was alleged to have?'

'Certainly, Mam. And heir to all his property. Which includes your cunt. Come, open those legs for me.'

'Oh, yes, yes. Take me now.'

'With pleasure, you lucky damsel. It's not every girl who has the chance to earn the seed of both father and son and, in time have a child by each.'

But Ghislaine was not listening, being lost in the pleasure of his large cock stretching her youthful cunni.