TFAM - The Magic Touch Ch. 06

As poetically justified as ending the wretched life of a person devoted solely to self-service can sometimes feel, it is almost never the right option. Sometimes it can be the only realistic option, but that is about as much justification one can assign to such a choice. I was immediately racked with crushing guilt from having murdered my 'mother'. But, contrary to what movies and TV would have you believe, a person usually does not immediately just 'die' from having their neck snapped. The body has a few brief moments of life left after a spinal cord is snapped. And when you are trapped in the equivalent of a localized temporal distortion (at least mentally speaking), those few moments can stretch out even further.

Sadly, my impulsive decision to end the life of this evil woman happened during such an event. And the brief opportunity presented during one such mental time distortion, consequently, allowed my 'mother' to be given the chance to utilize her connection with Auntie C to work one last evil deed. None of us knew it at the time, but a seed had been planted and a path forward had been made for further turmoil and upheaval to plague us in time. Sheila also managed to get a last mental message off to me as well. "You got lucky you piece of shit! We will see how long your luck lasts boy! My revenge will be sweet little boy!"

I didn't really know what to make of her final words. And since that was all that I was aware of having happened, I didn't know to how to even investigate that. Much less where to even look for something potentially look deeper than just the last bitter 'words' of an evil woman. Her words obviously confused and troubled me. However, as can easily be guessed, we had far more immediate problems to deal with. Namely, the recently deceased acting CEO of a multi-billion dollar company whose eyes were in a silent staring contest with the ceiling whilst also having the rest of her body slumped forward onto her chest and my cock still embedded within.

Needless to say, I immediately drew back in horror, both at what I had just done and at having my dick inside a corpse. My aunt was mostly insensate at the time, as she happened to be laying beneath both of us in a sort of post-nut daze. I deduced that she was also in shock and, having extracted myself from my dead 'mother', rushed to help my aunt. Cecilia was awake, but was mostly incoherent at the time. But I managed to get her to come around and help me take stock of our current predicament. First things first, we absolutely HAD to free the girls. Then the rest of this crazy mess could begin to be addressed.

One thing that I have always loved about Cecilia is her amazing gift for finding creative solutions to problems. Remember how I mentioned that she played host to a group of female DnD enthusiasts? Well my beloved aunt was usually their game master, meaning that she ran the games and thus had to act out a huge variety of roles and voices on any given night. She was rather good at doing impressions of people that she knew or characters that she had created. You can probably see where I am going with this.

Once Auntie C had collected her wits about her once more, she came up with the idea of impersonating Sheila's voice to order the guards to leave the women where they were and deal with the 'guests' in the orgy room. She pulled off a very convincing performance in her imitation of Sheila. And naturally, the guards, who were under little more than a residual form of blind obedience-type control from my 'mother' anyway, saw nothing amiss when they were given orders sight unseen.

'Sheila' then 'ordered' me, very loudly, to retrieve the girls. So, playing the role of a newly turned stooge, I went back into the 'orgy' room and collected Maggie, Camille and Candy with a dumb smile plastered on my face. As soon as I touched the girls, I sent reassuring waves of calm into them and 'forced' them into the viewing room. Once the girls saw the dead body of Sheila, it was pretty obvious that we had somehow 'won'. But, it then became a hasty reunion followed by a blitz of questions and necessarily brief answers.

Both Auntie C and Maggie rushed into each other's arms in a show of utter relief at seeing the other safe. Camille also rushed to Cecilia, but their reunion was a little more reserved as Auntie C was still completely naked (Camille was not yet accustomed to hugging her fully nude aunt yet). And once Candy and Maggie had fully assured themselves that I was safe, the questions began. Sadly, we were in a time crunch, so most of the questions had to be postponed.

"What are we going to do with her?" Camille's tone spoke volumes, revealing both her uncertainty about how she felt about Sheila's death overall and further my specific part therein. Admittedly, I was also completely stumped as to what to do with our newly made sacrifice, I mean she was on an altar and everything... Sorry.

Anyways, Maggie was the one to come up with a solution for us here. "We need a rope. We need to stage this to look like she hung herself by kicking the coffin off of the dais." It was paper thin, but as Camille helpfully pointed out, we could possibly influence both the police and the Board of Directors into going along with the ruse. With the Camille and me running interference, there was every possible chance to make this work. Camille knew that Sheila had wanted to be cremated, likely so that no one would ever be able to uncover her secret posthumously. So we only had to keep the fiction going until the body was disposed of. After getting dressed once again, and with the makings of a real plan in place, I volunteered to tackle the first obstacle. Rope.

You would probably not be surprised to discover that it is actually very hard to find rope in a funeral home. Probably something to do with not letting people that are actively mourning have easy access to one of the easiest tools with which to make the pain go away permanently. I would have figured that would have been something that could have generated some job security, but I guess that I was wrong. Either way, it took me quite a good amount of time to not only find a suitable rope, but also some means with which to reach the ceiling joists to attach our 'suicide weapon'. Naturally this was made all the more burdensome by the fact that there were several dozen people all running and milling around.

Most of the participants in the group orgy seemed to have regained their senses somewhat and were naturally questioning all of the strange happenings. As I passed among them in search of rope, I overheard many comments about fuzzy dreams and highly inappropriate goings on within those dreams. Most people seemed to think that they had mysteriously fallen asleep and experienced some sort of highly erotic shared group fantasy in their dreams. Amazing what a human mind can do to rationalize such weird happenings.

Regardless, the guards had also redressed and had begun to herd the guests into regrouping back in the foyer and anterooms. Meanwhile, a crew of service staff cleaned up the main greeting hall. This actually worked somewhat in our favor, as it cleared the greeting hall of people and gave us something of a buffer between our little 'situation' and the other guests. The cleaning crew was easily convinced that they 'only' needed to clean up the greeting hall. They didn't really want to do extra work anyways.

So, with a window of opportunity created and a 'plausible' storyline built, we set about prepping the set dressing for our newly-made widow to transform into a newly-made corpse. It was gruesome and involved moving around not only Sheila's dead body, but also the heavy casket that was clearly way too far away to have just been 'kicked' out from under a 130 lb widow. So, guess who got to be the one to stare into their 'father's' dead reproachful face, whilst also lugging his casket back into a more realistic position...

Once we had finally set our stage for this little drama to be acted out, all that was left to do was to play the roles Cecilia had set up for us. I was to storm out of the room in a huff, as though Sheila and I had had a fight. This would seem realistic and natural since it was known that we were estranged. Candy would go with me to console me and help me 'calm down'. Then after a staged 'discussion' between 'Sheila' and Maggie, Maggie would rush out to get the guards. Since the guards had cleared out the main Greeting Hall already, the only people to hear this confrontation would be the cleaning crew.

Cecilia would stay behind in the viewing room to act out Sheila's part in the final ruse. Once the guards had made it to the greeting hall, 'Sheila' would command everyone to leave her and declare that no one be allowed to enter the viewing room. Then, it would just be a matter of Auntie C leaving the room looking timid and concerned to sell her part in this. The guards would then 'protect' my 'mother's' wish for solitude and it would just be a waiting game from there.

Once a sufficiently unreasonable amount of time had passed, Candy would begin to ask around about how long the funeral would be delayed. And it would only be a matter of time before someone complained to the funeral home staff. They would eventually be forced to inquire with the guards about the whereabouts of Sheila. And once she was 'discovered', the real work would begin.

While we waited the 'unreasonable' amount of time, Camille worked her way around to almost all of the Board members. Under the guise of reintroducing her long lost brother, she was able to make 'contact' with all of the ones that we could find. We had to play things off as though she was wanting to make peace within the family, and this was a good first step. Luckily, these men had been played and manipulated for decades by Sheila. So, it was almost too easy to get them all to follow yet another pretty face and magical 'Touch'. We managed to get about 75% of the Board members to agree that Camille and I would be a good step forward for the company.

After the staff of the funeral home finally 'discovered' Sheila's lifeless body hanging from the rafters, the girls and I grouped together and waited for the police to arrive. We lucked out here as well, because the local law enforcement sent only a single patrol car with two detectives and the coroner. (I later found out that this was due to a long-standing 'arrangement' Sheila had had with the cops.) The detectives naturally took statements from all of the guests.

Camille had the male cop basically eating out of her hand by the end of her 'interrogation'. He was falling all over himself to try to console this 'poor girl', and was eating up the bullshit story we had concocted. I was not quite so lucky here. Or, perhaps I was a bit too lucky here. I had a considerably harder time of convincing my detective of our narrative. The only saving grace here was that they had taken us off to question us in different rooms. It was also fortunate that I was the last guest on her list to be interrogated.

The detective that decided to interrogate me, was a beautiful Columbian woman. She had an exotic lilt to her accent that she seemed to frequently use against unsuspecting men. She knew that she was hot and she apparently liked to use that fact when interrogating perps. She had her top two buttons of her uniform top undone. This put her generous cleavage on display and she monopolized on this fact by leaning forward slightly on the desk she was seated at.

As I walked meekly into the room, she looked up from her notes and watched me silently take my seat. Her eyes glanced down to her notepad briefly and she asked me to state my name. I looked around for a recorder and asked first if I needed to have an attorney present. She noticed my nervousness and her voice went sickeningly sweet as she said, "Don't worry sweetie. I just need to take your statement. You didn't do anything wrong, right? So, there is nothing to be nervous about."

I sensed a trap here. She had not 'actually' answered my question at all. But, I had to play dumb here. So, I told her my name in my most nervous and shaky voice. "I'm, um, Ronin... Fairchild!... Sorry, I am Ronin Fairchild. I am the son of Sheila and Richard Fairchild." I shuffled around in my seat, trying for all the world to present myself as someone that was nervous but was trying to not show that they were nervous.

"It is totally okay sweetie." Again, her tone was dripping with sugar. She got up and made her way around the desk to sit on the edge of the desk facing me. She slowly leaned down to place her hand 'reassuringly' on the knee of my slacks, meanwhile basically giving me a prime view down the top of her shirt. Every move here was intentional and practiced. Even the soft expression on her face was a mask that she must have played on her unsuspecting 'victims' almost daily.

"You can relax with me here sweetie. I am not going to hurt you. I just want you to tell me the truth. What happened between you and your mother? I know you may be nervous, but if you tell me what happened, then we can figure all of this out. Okay?" I had maintained eye contact with her throughout her little speech, and this seemed to irritate her a little. So, I decided to throw her a bone here.

"I am just worried that since we had an argument right before... it happened... You know. Well, I was worried that people might think that I had done something... or something like that.. you know..." It was easy to let my own nervousness seep into my words. I could see her nose at the bait like a shark, circling around wounded prey. Her eyes flashed with a momentary victorious gleam and then they returned to their practiced softness.

"I am sorry, where are my manners? My name is Detective Christina Flores." She sat back up and sort of leaned back, pushing her generous chest forward as she sat on the front edge of the desk and offered me her hand. I took the proffered hand and sent a small wave of pleasurable sensations as our skin touched. I watched as her eyes fluttered slightly and her cheeks seemed to flush a bit.

"I don't want to get into any trouble. I don't think that I did anything wrong. But I know that some people don't like me here, you know... because I left the family and all." I could see that I was making progress with her, but I was going to have to take this slowly. She still was holding my hand at this point and so, I kept pumping the pleasant warmth of trust and relaxation through our connection. This seemed to work because she moved suddenly to sandwich both of my hands between hers as though protecting it. In her most reassuring tone, she continued.

"I promise, you won't have anything to worry about from them if you just tell me the truth sweetie. You can absolutely trust me. It is my job to protect the innocent!" She seemed to be laying it on thick at this point. So, I dialed my intensity back a little and sort of doubled down on the 'scared kid' act.

"What... What do you want to know? I don't know what... I don't understand why she would do that to herself. She was so angry, I don't..." I put every trick I knew into selling my performance here. I had no way of telling whether or not she was really buying it or not. True, she was still holding my hand, but I was afraid that if I pushed too hard all at once, she would sense something was off and would get freaked out. Or worse, she might recognize the feeling if she had been influenced before.

Luckily, I needn't have worried. Detective Flores was just a really saavy cop that happened to also be hot and know how to use it to her advantage. She was actually really concerned at this point that I had been traumatized by having had a fight with my 'mother' just before she had taken her own life. All of the evidence pointed towards suicide. It was a mystery as to exactly how Sheila Fairchild had managed to get a rope up there, but as the coroner had said, 'When a person plans to take their own life, they usually find a way.'

Christina bought the whole 'scared kid' act hook, line, and sinker. It made sense that an estranged son would be worried that his argument with his widowed mother at her husband's funeral would be perceived in a negative light. Not to mention the high profile nature of this whole affair. It was a wonder that the station didn't send an entire CSI team down here just to ensure that the case was on the up-and-up in the eyes of the company and the inevitable press. It was actually fortunate that it was just the three officers! The family and mourners didn't need a circus right now.

I was oblivious to most of these thoughts through our connection at the time. But, I could almost read the thoughts going on behind her kind soft eyes. She had already decided to believe anything that I said right now. So, I wove her the pre-planned narrative that Auntie C had come up with. I talked about our 'argument' and how the heated words mainly focused on how I had abandoned her and the family. I explained how this had made me feel and the awkwardness of having Camille and my girlfriend present. I mentioned how Camille and I had actually been happy to be reunited and how I had wanted to support her new position within the company.

All through my monologue, Christina held my hand and she even kneeled down on the floor next to my knees to seem less threatening. This movement actually managed to put her large knockers on a better display as her uniform top actually scrunched them upwards from her squatting posture. The pleasant effect this had on her appearance was not lost on me. It took a considerable amount of will power and concentration for me to continue with my tale instead of staring like an idiot.

And, subsequently, as she continued our contact voluntarily, I managed to continue to push those pleasant vibes of trust and acceptance. It was during this 'confession' that I began to notice subtle echoes of emotion radiating off of her. Her body language seemed to almost be sort of 'talking' to me. When she shifted her weight so that her knee came into more direct contact with my leg, it was mirrored by a desire within her for me to open up and trust her more. When she leaned forwards so that her breasts began to nuzzle against my knee, it coincided with her feeling a growing attraction towards this honest and scared young man before her.

So, when I began to feel her getting a little flustered at her own biological responses towards me, I pushed my awareness forwards a little more to better sense her mood. I could tell that she was chiding herself for having random thoughts about how nice my hands might feel against her warm breasts. She could feel the strength and the callouses that hard work had wrought in my hands. And as she was thinking about it, she had many sudden images of me railing my hard cock in her ass while I held her suspended against the wall beside us. Or me pressing her down face-first into the desk as I sunk myself into her pussy from behind, all the while holding her firmly in place with my strong hands.

Understandably, my libido rose to the occasion at these highly erotic imaginings within the sexy woman that was supposed to be 'interrogating' me. And, naturally, with her extremely close vantage point, she clearly observed the effect that she was having on me. So, a war began to wage within this cute Columbian vixen. Should she stop this madness and attempt to return to being a professional detective helping a victim to make a statement? Or, should she double down on her sexual fantasies and see how far she dared to go with this cute young man?

I'm sure that it is obvious which side I was rooting for here. I mean, come on! Who would NOT want to take advantage of such a situation as this? But, I decided that she needed to make her own choice about it, just in case. She might have to face serious consequences if we were to be discovered, and it also felt too much like cheating for me to 'force' her to lean one way or the other. So, after a few moments of indecision, she decided.