Kammi's Serial

Sorry - not feeling that great today - but wanted to say a few things and put on Part 4 of Kammi's story.

First of all - Kammi and Carrie? Thanks to Belinda, I was able (finally) to find out who was - and wasn't - approved for this blog.  Both of you are definitely approved - though don't ask me what to do next.  Don't have a bloody clue!  Just ADD stuff!

Next?  A small thing, but  very important to me. Got notes from a few of you last week, saying nice things.  I've been down in the dumps about this blog for some time - so it was extremely nice to hear that 'somebody' likes it.  Thanks you two.  You made my week. 

Here's the next part of Kammi's serial.  I'll try to get back for another post in a few days.

What If? Part 4

Previous:

Most of the Honk Kong upper class used British first names. Rebecca wanted to end that practice, but that was something for the future. To maintain her guise as a “young chink gal” she took on the name Lin Lu, which was much more Chinese sounding. She did her own research to find five potential companies to achieve her goal. Then she put her father’s army of investigators to work to acquire every morsel of information about the company, its management, and its employees. No matter how strong a company, each had faults that could be exploited, even something as small as the secret of one president’s son who had a huge collection of ladies panties. That might have just been laughed at in most countries but in a small town in the so called Bible Belt of America this was scandal of the highest degree. The winner of this exhaustive search was Dryfuss Enterprises. It was a highly profitable company with a great future. With future world wide connections that Sir Cecil’s empire could supply, that profit was estimated to increase ten fold. And it’s most vulnerable asset was it’s owner, Bradley Dryfuss.

“So, how are things coming along?” Lin Lu asked, entering the bedroom and taking in the scene. “He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, unfortunately” Rose replied, “he just passed out. Strange how a hot curling iron up his ass will do that. It’s his third time. But I do think he’s ready to cooperate, thanks to having his dick clamped in the iron. Sorry, I wasn’t very successful curling his hair. He wiggled too much.”

“I better let him down, he doesn’t look too good” Lin Lu said and pressed the button to lower the chain.

“Have you given him anything to drink? He might be dehydrated.”

“Yes, but he wasn’t very appreciative. Actually spit it out the first time. But he’s had a couple of glasses since. I think he may be acquiring a taste for my pee.”

“Rose! You didn’t, did you?”

“Yes, actually pee is good for you, if you can stomach it. We did straighten out some of the lies he told you about his youth and his evil mother and sister. Want to hear?”

“Of course. Let’s go downstairs and enjoy your tale over a brandy.”

The ladies sat closely on the very expensive leather sofa in the livingroom. Both had snifters filled with some of the best brandy money could buy.

“Here’s to Bradley” Rose toasted. “Ready for a long and boring story, my sweet?”

“Of course, but I doubt it will be boring, honey.”

They sipped their brandy and kissed softly, hands going in places not normally considered “ladylike”.

Rose began. “Brad’s two years older than me. We grew up reasonably wealthy in a medium sized town in central England. Daddy had been killed in the war on a bombing mission over Germany. Mummy mourned his death the rest of her life. He had been the one and only man for her. Despite some difficulties in inheritance laws, his family generously agreed to pass on his share, and more, of the estate. I was four and Bradley was six. He fussed over me terribly. I guessed that he was trying to compensate for Daddy, though the things he did were nothing that Daddy would ever have done. I had waist length hair and Mummy would roll it in rag curlers every Saturday night to create long tight ringlets for church on Sunday. Bradley paid close attention to this and asked Mummy if he could do a few. She didn’t think it was any big deal and thought it was cute that a boy would help do his sister’s hair. It didn’t take long before he was doing the whole set, much to Mummy’s relief, and then he began doing it during the week too. He brushed out my hair every morning and again before I went to bed. I loved the attention. Next thing, he got involved dressing me. Nothing out of line here, mind you, just brotherly concern. He picked the frilliest dresses to put on me and was terribly annoyed if there were any wrinkles in it. We did have a woman come in once a week to clean and do laundry, but she wasn’t very concerned about detail, especially over a little girl’s dress. When he was seven, he had the char woman show him how to iron my dresses. Can you believe that? Again, Mummy thought this was cute. Truth be known, Mummy was not into housekeeping, especially since Daddy died. She often seemed to be off in a world of her own, no doubt reminiscing about time with him. So here I was, being brought up like a spoiled princess with my own brother playing the role of my prince.

It was not at all unusual back then, and probably not now either, for young siblings to bathe together. Mummy was none too gentle, eager to get done with this chore. So Bradley offered to bathe me and he was so nice and considerate that I looked forward to our Saturday night bath. He would rub that soft sponge all over me. When he took over washing my hair, it was like heaven having him pamper me as opposed to Mummy’s quick and rough treatment. Please don’t get me wrong here. We had no doubt that Mummy loved us both and did anything she could for us. Neither of us were ever beaten, rare for those days. It was just that she was “off”. By the time he was eight, Bradley pretty much picked out my clothes at the store. He was the one that would spot a blouse, or skirt or dress on the rack and hold it up to me to see how it looked. Mummy never disagreed with him. He did the same with my underwear, picking out the prettiest, girly panties, vests and slips. I’ll never forget the time he decided that a particular dress would look better with petticoats. He located them in the girls department and picked out two. He asked the shocked sales clerk which one she felt would look best with the dress.

One day, he noticed that the girl next door had her hair braided. He asked Mummy to braid my hair too. She did, reluctantly, and not very well. Bradley figured out how to do this too and I don’t think there was any girl that had more perfect plaits than I had. Of course, braids needed ribbons to secure the bottoms. We did not have any ribbons in the house so Bradley actually got on his bike and rode to the clothing store and bought a bunch of different colored ribbons. He even paid with his own money. So now I went off to school with my braids bobbing on my back and two perfectly formed bows on them. Of course, Bradley would never use the same ribbons without ironing them. Mummy would just beam and tell me how pretty I was.

Being the fuss budget that he was, Bradley could not wait a whole week for laundry to be done by the maid so he began doing a wash in between. He watched how this was done and soon was running the washer, which back then involved running the wet clothes through a wringer attached to the washing machine. The clothes would drop into the laundry basket which Bradley would take outside to hang on the line. He also began to “touch up” some of Mummy’s clothes with the iron after he had done mine.”

“Wow, this is amazing, Rose. I never could have imagined the Bradley I know being such a helpful little boy, especially doing women’s work. Boys just didn’t do those things back then, did they?”

“No, sweetheart, they didn’t and I don’t think too many do them today either. When was the last time you saw a man hanging the wash on the line?”

More brandy was sipped and another, longer embrace followed with French kissing involved. As Rose continued, Lin Lu began rubbing her lover’s thigh with her hand.

“Behave” she told Lin Lu but she was not serious. “Remember, I am very dangerous with a curling iron.”

“Oooh, you scare me” Lin Lu mocked. “Though I would like to have my hair curled, sweets.”

“Later, babe, a bedtime treat.”

Bradley began to take more notice of how the house was kept. While Mary was not the best, she really didn’t have time to do a thorough job, and all the laundry and ironing, in one day. Mummy was against paying for two days though she could well afford it. So Bradley began running a vacuum cleaner over the floors and doing some dusting and it was a rare day that he did not spend time over the ironing board. He also began making our beds, all three of us. I, being the little princess that I was, did nothing. About then he began to wear an apron when he did housework. At first it was just a plain old thing that had been hanging in the back hall but when Mummy saw this, she dug out several very fancy, or feminine, style aprons and it was obvious Bradley liked these better. Before long, you rarely saw Bradley in the house not wearing one of these lovely aprons, right up to the time he went to bed. I remember laughing the first time he wore a ruffled cap which he had found somewhere. He said it was to protect his hair from dust and stuff. Bradley had always been very fussy about his hair and had a mortal fear of going bald. He began using Mummy’s expensive, and perfumed, shampoos and conditioners, the latter which he often left in for hours covered by his cap. He continued to do my hair all the time and took great pride in how I looked. I did too. I got compliments all the time on how pretty my hair looked and I ate it up. At some point, Mummy stopped going to the hairdresser for her weekly shampoo and set. Bradley loved accompanying her to the salon and paid close attention to how her hair was styled while I just colored in the corner. He was past ten by then so it was a little unusual to have a boy still coming to the hairdresser’s with his mother. When he asked Mummy why she stopped she complained it took too long and cost too much. One day, while Mummy was taking her bath, Bradley offered to shampoo her hair. She accepted, thinking this was something nice for her son to do for her. We were very open about our nudity, thinking nothing of walking around with nothing on. Though Bradley stopped taking baths with me around 12 years old, he continued to bathe me up until I was about 16 when he decided that it wasn’t proper for him to be still doing this. Anyway, after washing Mummy’s hair, Bradley asked if he could put some curlers in her hair, and again Mummy thought that this would be a lovely thing to do. And he did a great job winding those narrow metal things in her hair and then brushing her out when it was dry. He continued to do this once a week and more often if Mummy was going someplace. Some times he would use one of those old, wood handle dryers, which took forever, or she would sleep with the curlers in her hair and Bradley would do her hair in the morning before he went to school. A few months later, I noticed Bradley’s hair had a bit of a curl to it. I didn’t say anything about it to keep from embarrassing him but I also thought it was no big deal since Mummy and I both had our hair curled. One evening while Bradley was leaning over the ironing board I noticed some odd looking bumps in his cap. Later, when he was sitting on the sofa reading, I patted his head on my way to bed. Sure enough, he had curlers in his hair. The next morning, while Bradley was braiding my hair, I asked him if he would like me to put his curlers in for him. I was not sure what his reaction would be but he just smiled and said “yes, please”. So now I had the nightly job of curling his hair, which I loved doing. Mummy would watch me and say something like, “that’s so cute”. The old metal curlers were soon replaced by rollers for both Mummy and Bradley. He had spotted them on the counter at Woolworth’s and bought several packages along with setting lotion, hair nets, and clips. Now it was more common to see Bradley doing his chores with his hair in rollers and a brown net instead of the cap. He somehow managed to style his hair like it was naturally curly for school and then arranged it in a more feminine style when he came home. Before long, he was giving Mummy home perms and next he gave himself one, with a little help from me.

“Are you making this up, my darling?” Lin Lu asked, pinching Rose’s thigh for emphasis. “It sound so incredible. Bradley?”

“Yes, hon, it’s absolutely true, and you haven’t heard the best yet.”

“Oh wow, this is almost better than sex.”

“Watch your mouth, little one, or you’ll be shut off for a week and then we’ll see if you still think it’s better than sex” Rose said and both of them laughed.

Now you may wonder how a young boy could manage to do all that he did at home and still go to school and do homework. Easy answer – Bradley is a genius. IQ up around 160 or so. Schoolwork was a breeze for him. He never had to study. But on the other hand, he had no friends and came straight home from school every day to take care of his family. “So, remember that in your negotiations with him. He’s very, very smart and is unscrupulous.”

“Didn’t get that impression last time I saw him” Lin Lu said and they both laughed again.

At about the same time he began curling his hair, I noticed that he sometimes wore a pretty blouse of   Mummy’s or a cardigan. One day, when I was looking for band-aids in his room, I found several pairs of panties in his drawer. Not just plain white cotton ones either. These were exquisite – silk and lace of gorgeous colors. I had never seen these before on Mummy. Later found out they had been part of her bridal trousseau and had been stored in trunks in the attic along with a whole lot more of beautiful clothing. I kidded Bradley one day about his pretty panties when he was hanging the wash out. He blushed at first then said when I got bigger I could wear them too. That secret out, he began to wear more of Mummy’s  clothes from the attic. One evening, after the dishes were washed and our hair was taken care of, Bradley left to change into his pajamas. But these turned out to be the pretties pair pf pajamas I have ever seen. Rich pink satin with six inches of lace at the cuffs and beautiful embroidery on the bodice. Bradley just casually walked into the livingroom and sat on the sofa. Mummy, off in whatever place she was in that evening, just looked up and said “Very pretty, Bradley, I used to have a pair like that.” I almost burst a gut to keep from laughing.

By the time he was fourteen Bradley was effectively running the house, even the finances. But he was never bossy. He did everything he could to help both of us, and we were a very happy family. Yes, mother was sometimes “out of it” mostly after her glasses of sherry in the evening. But she had a few friends and was a member of the local ladies’ aid group. She had always kept up a beautiful, though very conservative, appearance. That is why Bradley stepped in to help with her clothing and grooming when she began to slip. And he did the same for me. If I was not the best dressed girl in school, I was close. Of course, once we had to start wearing uniforms, that changed, somewhat. I am sure that no one had pleats as sharp as mine, day in and day out, and my blouse was always free of stains and wrinkles, thanks to Bradley making sure that I had a freshly laundered and starched blouse to wear every day. I thought nothing of his idiosyncrasies and loved to do his hair and tell him how pretty he was when he was in a dress or skirt and blouse. He was my brother, and I loved him. A major change occurred at that time. Mummy discovered that one of her broaches was missing. It was a family heirloom handed down through many generations on my father’s side and my mother loved it dearly. Traditionally, it was given to the bride on her wedding day, representing the love and loyalty of not only the groom but the entire clan. Bradley and I assumed Mummy had somehow misplaced it, though it was only worn on special occasions. The occasion when she discovered it missing was my father’s birthday. But when we saw that the lock on the brown, wooden box had been forced, we knew it could not have been Mummy’s doing. That left Mary, our maid as the only one who had access to Mummy’s bedroom. Bradley boldly stated that she had to go, immediately. With no evidence to show she was guilty, she was simply dismissed with the words “you know why”. And it was Mummy who handled the actual dismissal, so angry and hurt was she about the loss of her broach. So much so that she refused to hire a replacement, despite our encouragement to do so. A few weeks of Mummy attempting to do housework told us this could not continue. Range and iron left on for hours after their use, mail placed in the freezer, clothes changing color in the wash and so on. So dear Bradley declared that he would drop out of school, which he legally could do at 14 back then. Mummy opposed this but had no answer to our dilemma  nor could she deal with the situation. Bradley contacted our grandmother and asked her to visit. The problem and the solution, at least according to Bradley, was laid out to her. Grandmother was very wise and “with it” but did not agree, stating it just was not possible for Bradley to drop out of school and that instead, we should all move in with her. He rebutted, delicately pointing out Mummy’s “condition” and that she would never leave this house, the house she had been in since she had been married. She went so far as to insist that father still lived there and that she regularly talked to him.  So Grandmother offered to move in with us, even though none of us, including Grandmother, wanted to go this route. So Bradley, boy genius that he was, proposed that he would home school himself. He offered to be both academically and psychologically tested to prove his competence and to subject himself to regular inspection from the local authorities  that everything was being properly handled at home. Now you know full well how charming Bradley can be. Now picture this precocious fourteen year old pleading his very well prepared argument to his grandmother, who adored him. Of course he won. Grandmother arranged for a top notch solicitor to research and prepare a case for this outrageous idea. He prevailed, primarily because the law was on our side. Bradley was of legal age to leave school, Mummy was not so bad as to be committed and so it mostly came down to me because I was only twelve. Again, the agreement to allow frequent inspections, unannounced if necessary, as to my welfare clinched the case. Grandmother too said she would be visiting a lot more. Bradley had inherited our household and he handled it beautifully. He spent hours reading, learning to cook, clean, and even how to sew. He continued to spoil us terribly. He prepared breakfast and got me dressed and coiffed for school. He did Mummy’s hair every morning whether it was a simple brushing out and arrangement to a full shampoo and set. He purchased a floor model hair dryer for Mummy’s benefit but it did not take long for him to be using it almost as much. I still had my long hair which was brushed to a beautiful shine every day. The only change was the purchase of a set of curling irons to replace the rag curlers. It also meant I had curls much more often. Of course, Bradley took care of all this. His days were spent keeping the house spotless. Laundry and ironing was done every day. Bradley taught himself how to give Mummy manicures and pedicures, which she loved. He even helped her with her make-up.

“Have you had too much brandy, girl? This is not believable” Lin Lu stated. “We’re talking about that same pile of garbage upstairs with the cute stripes across his butt?”

“One and the same, hard as it is to believe, but every word is absolutely true.”

Now, as I said before, Bradley was never bossy but he still ruled the house and Mummy and I accepted that fact. Bradley was father, mother, and brother to me. I willingly accepted anything he said, and loved him dearly. The first time I objected to something was when I turned sixteen. I was an early developer and it was Bradley, rather than Mummy, that took me for my first bra. I had no idea why we were getting strange looks from the sales woman as Bradley pick out several bras from the racks. He did not come into the dressing room, sensing that that might trigger a problem, but he did have me come to the door to inspect each bra and he was the one that decided which was the right one. He was also the one that told me about the birds and the bees, including all about feminine hygiene. I had no idea that it was a little strange for him to be helping me with hooking a napkin onto a belt nor giving me a douche. Hey, he was still bathing me. He took care of maintaining my period calendar and bought all my supplies. It seemed perfectly normal for him to unhitch my used napkin and put on a fresh one. And I have to admit I thoroughly enjoyed sitting on the toilet and letting him clean me out with a douche bag and nozzle. He made a game of it, tickling me as he sprayed the liquid. When I started to use a tampon, he took care of inserting and removing that too. I loved that I had nothing to clean up. He cleaned the nozzles and rinsed out the bag. He put my used napkins and tampons in a plastic bag to dispose of. I just sat there and let him wait on me. I confess that I was a little bit shocked the day I found an almost full bag of my dirty things in his room. I had been looking for an extra blanket that he stored in a drawer under his bed. I asked him about it and he said simply that he liked the smell. I did not question it. I even felt a little cocky about my brother liking the smell of the napkins that I had worn. How many brothers would give their sisters that honour? But in school one day with a bunch of friends, one of them was all upset about the fact her brother had seen her remove her tampon that morning when he walked into the bathroom. All the girls thought that was one of the most horrible things that could happen. I began to think about my brother routinely handling this intimate activity for me and that maybe there was something wrong about it though I didn’t think there was. I brought it up one evening while he was brushing my hair. He agreed that if I wanted to do this myself it was all right, as long as kept myself clean. But he surprised me when he asked if he could still have my used tampons and napkins. It was no big deal to me and so for a few days every month I gave him a small plastic bag filled with bloody cotton. I even tied a small red ribbon on them.

“Yuk!” Lin Lu exclaimed.

“Really? Looks like I have a few things to teach you, my friend” Rose countered.

So life continued like that for years. Bradley finished secondary school at seventeen with all O levels, even though he had never sat foot in a school except to take the exams. By then he had mastered the sewing machine and was making most of my clothes along with some of Mummy’s. And they were beautiful – all up to the latest style and, of course, they fit perfectly. When friends asked where I bought them I said they were tailor made for me by a budding dressmaker that did not yet want his name made public. He even made my panties and did wonderful embroidery work on them. I gave one of them to a girl that I had my first affair with. She said she slept in them every day, and night for a week, unwashed. I told Bradley about it and we had a good laugh. He said he would gladly make her a pair of her own but she would have to come to the house for proper fitting. Furthermore, he would make her two pairs if she was having her period when she came over. I playfully hit him on the arm and called him a “dirty old man” but I have to admit that I relieved myself for many nights fantasizing about that scene and adding my own scenario. I knew my friend had her period during  those same two weeks he was making her panties. I wished I had asked for the panties back – unwashed.

 

ry to get back with more in the next few days.