("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text


















--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Absolute Power - 5
by WarLord (warlordwrites@yahoo.com)

***

Abraham Lincoln said it best: "Nearly all men can stand 
adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, 
give him power." See how young Billy handles this test 
as he confronts the others who have their own power. 
(FFm-teen, bi, inc, oral, mast, bd, mc, sci-fi)

***

This is a work of fiction any similarities between the 
characters, events, or locations in this story and 
actual locations, events, or people are purely 
coincidental. (c) 2005 Warlord


Chapter 5

The glassed-in shower enclosure for the bathroom 
attached to the master bedroom, or, as Gwen promptly 
informed Bailey and Jennifer, "Billy's Room," was huge; 
the four of us fit in it comfortably, with no crowding. 
The only 'crowding,' quite voluntary, found us rubbing 
together in slippery enjoyment. 

I finally exerted my infinitesimal self-control, 
calling a halt to our fun. With only the cutest good 
natured grumbling, we rinsed off, dried each other, and 
dressed, finally meeting in the kitchen, clustering 
around the breakfast bar. Gwen served breakfast with 
Bailey and Jennifer's help, spooning double portions of 
scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns on a plate for me 
while they ate a bit less. Quite a bit less! All the 
while giggling at my rapacious appetite.

When my hunger was sated and we were all sipping our 
after meal drinks, I dug out a cigarette. While Bailey 
lit it for me, Gwen walked over to the stack of 
newspapers in the corner saved for recycling. She dug 
through several days' editions until she found what she 
was looking for. Folding the paper carefully, she set 
it in front of me, pointing to the several column wide 
picture. I looked and my jaw dropped. My cigarette 
dropped from nerveless fingers as I gaped at Gwen, 
saying incredulously, "That's Rusty fucking Carlyle. 
What the fuck are you talking about?"

*****
I sat in utter consternation, reviewing my knowledge of 
Rutherford Forrestal 'call me Rusty' Carlyle. I took a 
swig of coffee and looked into their rapt expressions 
as I continued, "Senator Rutherford Forrestal 'call me 
Rusty' Carlyle, has become a contender in the 
presidential horse races. A Multi Hundred Millionaire, 
highly decorated Vietnam Veteran and Born Again 
fanatic, Rusty is a formidable candidate and a 
prodigious fundraiser. Senator Carlyle always scared 
me, by calling for religious fundamentalist involvement 
in setting ALL government policy. A scientist, he 
championed Intelligent Design. An Internet pioneer, he 
called for censorship of the Net with draconian 
penalties. Endorsed by NRA, VFW and various religious 
and family value groups. Rutherford Carlyle might be 
our next president."

Jennifer Angel suddenly moved to hug me, saying softly, 
"Billy, are you all right with this Rusty person being 
your daddy?"

I shook my head, suddenly angry, saying sharply, "He 
ain't my daddy. Fucking sperm donor. He was and is 
nothing. Gwen is my mother and father. Auntie Grace and 
my cousins with Gwen, they mean every goddamn thing to 
me. This asshole means NOTHING."

I looked into their concerned faces after my tirade. I 
took a deep breath, calming myself, then said 
contritely, "I'm truly sorry. What I should have said 
was that Jennifer, Bailey, and Diana are also now part 
of my family and also mean a great deal to me. I can 
only say this is so new to me, I don't always say the 
right things. Can you forgive me?"

With that said I had three bodies pressed against me, 
six arms holding me and it seemed a hundred lips 
kissing me as they were trying to hug, kiss and comfort 
me. 

After things settled and Bailey had refreshed 
beverages, Gwen began relating her story with a very 
pained expression on her face. Jennifer and Bailey were 
quickly holding Gwen's hands as she whispered in a 
halting voice, slowly gaining volume, "The Bar C 
connected is a vast spread west of the Missouri River 
overlapping the North and South Dakota border. There 
was no such border when Clan Carlyle came to the Dakota 
frontier, and bought the original one hundred-section 
land grant from the tribes. Dakota weren't a territory. 
It wasn't even part of the United States. Our Rocking 
H, right next door was tiny by comparison, eight 
hundred acres of mighty poor grazing but it was our 
home."

She paused looking out the window, deep in 
recollection. With a wistful smile, she went on, "Grace 
and I were going to school in Bullhead, SD. Grace 
dropped out, pregnant. She married the Masterson 
fuckwit, who promptly got her pregnant again. Their 
relationship ended abruptly when he got drunk and beat 
her up. Once. We retaliated with me holding him at 
gunpoint, while Grace branded his ass with a red hot 
Rocking H iron. We moved her and the girls back to the 
Hadley Ranch."

She took a deep breath pushing the rest out slowly, 
"Poppa died that spring, in a riding accident. It was 
left to Grace and I to run the place. Momma was pining, 
just wasting away. We soon found out it was Pancreatic 
Cancer. That's when Rusty came into my life. We needed 
cash to tide us over -- desperately. He saw the 
problem. Hired me to clean and help out in the kitchen 
and around the Bar C homestead. I thought it was 
charity. It was. But with that needed charity was 
lust."

Now Gwen was getting the rhythm as she continued, her 
voice stronger. "I was young, real young with my long 
legs, just growing into my boobs, and oh so cute. Mrs. 
Carlyle hated the ranch, so she always stayed in 
Washington or New York. Rusty seduced me. To tell the 
truth, I didn't struggle too damn hard preserving my 
virginity. I became an apt pupil in the sexual arts for 
Rusty. We played out his kinks and twists. He'd snort 
coke off my belly then I'd fuck him with a strap on 
..."

She looked at our shocked faces and giggled, saying 
with a big grin, "...Then it just got really fucking 
depraved."

We were shaking our heads as Gwen picked up the thread. 
"Rusty admitted that it was my age, combined with a 
young looking face, that was the attraction. He'd come 
to like the young stuff during his time in South East 
Asia. The very young stuff if you get my drift. He'd 
travel to Bangkok for his fun. Millionaire Rusty always 
found a veritable sexual smorgasbord."

Now she smirked at us. "If you watch coverage of his 
arrivals at the airport, you'll nearly always see a 
young, diminutive Asian girl attached to his 
entourage."

Gwen's expression shifted. Angry now. She almost 
snarled, "We'd been together and did everything. Of 
course he told me he loved me. So I had no problem 
telling him that somehow our protection had failed and 
I was pregnant. He stared at me for a moment, picked up 
his phone calling his business manager, turned and 
walked out of the room. I never met or spoke to him 
again. Rusty didn't kiss me, hug me, or even say 
goodbye."

*****

Gwen broke down crying. I held her awkwardly, while 
Bailey and Angel stroked and patted, soothing both of 
us. We ended up with Gwen sitting on my lap, her head 
on my shoulder. She lifted it as she spat out bitterly, 
"They were very efficient. I can never go back, even to 
visit the graves."

As I continued to hold her Gwen calmly finished her 
story, saying, "By this time the cancer had taken 
momma. The Carlyle family relocated Grace and her girls 
here, then I followed. The cattle ranch is still in our 
name; we get a rent check each year.
We finished my schooling here, going on with our lives 
under this shadow. They are buying our silence. All 
this, our life, houses, cars, and money are the result 
of our signing non-disclosure agreements and severing 
all ties back home."

Gwen smiled thinly as she added, "Rusty did forget to 
tell his family 'one little thing'. He was an 
exhibitionist and voyeur. We videotaped and 
photographed our trysts then watched them while we 
fucked, and recorded that. We kept all those at the 
Rocking H for fear of his wife's infrequent visits. I 
have them all."

I was flabbergasted, processing her last revelation. 
Finally I asked contemplatively, "But Mom, I mean Gwen. 
Why is he still paying -- he can't really still be 
worried about this? Not after all these years."

Bailey and Jennifer just looked thunderstruck at my 
question; Gwen was equally stunned. Finally she 
gathered her voice to say softly, "Do the math, 
William. Rusty is fifty-eight. He was 42 then, long 
married, already a senator. Our affair was no youthful 
indiscretion for him. I was not even fourteen when you 
were born, Billy. My videos and your DNA would be a 
'career ending' scandal. Your existence and true 
identity must never be revealed if Rutherford Carlyle 
covets the presidency."

*****

My mouth was an 'O' of surprise as my brain finally 
caught up! I must have looked like the home alone kid. 
Ah, FUCK!!! Every bit of repressed paranoia surged back 
into my psyche. Gwen, Jennifer and Bailey patted me 
gently while I tried to calm the mental maelstrom. 

I looked up, to see only Gwen's loving expression 
filling my vision. She leaned in, kissing me with an 
infinite tenderness, as if apologizing for the dreadful 
news. That brought me out of my funk as I asked coolly, 
"Gwen, do we own any guns?"

Gwen giggled as she replied, "Billy, my loving master, 
your mommy was born and raised on a western cattle 
ranch. She could ride and shoot with the best of them. 
Grace and I still go to the range every week."

That little nugget shocked me as I said in wonder, "I 
never knew."

Gwen shook her head, smiling. "Well, you never asked 
before. You seemed to have no interest in firearms, 
hunting, or the outdoors for that matter, Billy."

I nodded. It was only true. I wasn't opposed to 
firearms. I just never expected to be 'exposed' to 
them. Well, I needed to be 'up to speed' big time. Like 
yesterday! How in the fuck do you cram for a test like 
this? I asked tentatively, "So we own guns?"

Gwen was nodding her head in amusement a she answered, 
"We have a 336 Marlin in 30.30, a 444 Marlin, a Ruger 
22 auto, Dad's Model 70 Winchester in 30.06, my 
Remington 742 in .243 and several shotguns.'

I nodded; for some reason, I seemed to understand what 
she was talking about as she continued, "Handguns, we 
have Dad's Ruger .44 Mag., my Colt Python .357, a Ruger 
.22 Auto, and my Smith & Wesson Chiefs Special hideout. 
"

The she added, "Oh yeah, Dad also had a Colt .45 auto, 
Walther PPK, and German Luger he brought home from the 
war. I've got those here as well."

I nodded, as Gwen suddenly looked contrite, saying 
apologetically, "Master Billy, I'm so very sorry that 
we never took you along to the range. You should have 
learned to shoot." 

I shook my head, now emphatically, as I said, "No, 
Gwen, not your fault. I probably wouldn't have gone 
even if you offered, without first knowing what I know 
now. And you couldn't tell me before. Not without 
Otto's treatment."

*****

I'm really not that stupid. Just sheltered and more 
than a little naïve. Quite a shock with my coffee! To 
unexpectedly find out I'm the bastard son of a ruthless 
gazillionaire political candidate who doubtless ain't 
exactly overjoyed that I'm around. Fuck! 

We're riding in the 600 on our way to the fairgrounds 
with Jennifer driving with me next to her Gwen and 
Bailey in the back seat Gwen is dressed in very short 
cut off jeans with my dress shirt, this time buttoned. 
Well, some of the buttons anyway. I'm wearing my faded 
jeans, a sweatshirt from Lake County Regional Aviation, 
gray polarized Ray Ban aviators, and my running shoes. 

Gwen was also wearing trim leather "fanny pack" slung 
around on her hip, this a constant fashion accessory I 
was used to seeing. I was certainly not used to the 
petite snub nosed pistol she tucked in it. Between her 
feet was a gym bag, holding her rather larger Colt 
Python with extra ammunition. She smirked at me, 
saying, "Someone has to protect you, Master."

The worst of it was the immediate enthusiastic 
agreement from Bailey and Jennifer. Luckily Angel 
pulling up to the main gate at the fairgrounds saved me 
from further embarrassment. The gate guard took one 
look at the Benz with its gorgeous driver and Mega Chem 
Labs placard that Jennifer tossed up on the dash. He 
pointed, gesturing, speaking in a rush. "Straight ahead 
on Dan Patch, second right turn on Cooper, can't miss 
it." 

He waved us through as Jennifer turned to look over at 
me. I shrugged. We turned the corner. I heard indrawn 
breath and loud gasps. It was semis and flatbeds and 
bobcats and workers, OH MY!! I managed to blurt, "Fuck 
me. Diana is in so much shit." 

My Angel was weaving between vehicles and clots of 
workmen asking anxiously, "Where do I go Billy?"

From the backseat Gwen said firmly, "Look for a pickup 
with a group of angry men standing around it."

Then she poked me in the shoulder saying in the same 
resolute tone, "Try to remember everything Big Leo 
taught you."

Made me laugh. My best buddy at school is Leo. Leo is a 
'junior' but he's little Leo with his dad being Big Leo 
or, as I think of him, BIG LEO. 

Little Leo is an undersized nerd totally focused on his 
music to the exclusion of all else while Big Leo is a 
contractor spending his day immersed in construction, 
building, machinery and testosterone. 

But Big Leo loves his son, supporting him in all 
possible ways. Big Leo always makes us welcome in his 
home, telling us hilarious obscene stories of the 
latest fuckup on his job site. 

I was lost in a pleasant reverie remembering last 
Fourth of July when Big Leo brought home a dump truck 
filled with quite illegal and enormously powerful 
fireworks, deputizing little Leo and I as assistants. 
The display was marvelous, filling the night sky with 
explosive light, lasting over an hour, spreading clouds 
of gun smoke for blocks. It took a couple heavy 
rainstorms for the gunpowder smell to finally 
dissipate. We never saw a police car until long after 
the display was over. That's when it dawned on me that 
Leo Vaccaro, Sr. might have something besides his 
enormous size going on. 

Angel rolled to a stop next to the Guy Kersten 
Construction Company pickup. The angry, gesticulating 
men clustered around the hood woke me from my pleasant 
memories. It was well before noon, and the Mega Chem 
project was already sinking fast.

The street behind us was chaotic, crammed with huge 
Mega Chem semi trailers followed by big flatbed semis 
with what looked like travel trailers on them. All 
surrounded by workers and more trucks with lumber and 
building equipment. No wonder the guard knew where Mega 
Chem was.

I expected a difficult time getting people's attention 
but the 'distraction factor' suddenly began to work in 
my favor as the four of us stepped out of the Benz. The 
voices lost volume trailing off as we approached until 
it was silent when I reached the ring of construction 
workers. 

A broad shouldered giant in a white hard hat that said 
Kersten Construction was wearing a blue shirt that 
helpfully said "Guy" above the pocket. He reached out a 
huge hand to shake. My hand disappeared to the wrist 
but his grip was merely firm without any macho 
theatrics. 

The bass rumble seemed to come from somewhere around 
his ankles. "Morning, Guy from Kersten."

He looked expectantly down into my eyes, his gaze 
steady not distracted right or left as he waited. My 
hanging with the Leos, big and little with their large 
friends had prepared me for this as I responded more 
calmly then I felt, "Morning. Hadley from Mega Chem for 
Swane."

There was an immediate loud uproar behind him. Guy 
didn't release my hand standing almost peacefully 
waiting it out. He finally nodded as he asked briskly, 
"You make decisions?"

Guy cut right to the chase. This was the crux of it. 
Before she left for the office I was finally able to 
get Diana to put aside my master personae long enough 
to ask her if this State Fair exhibit was my call. She 
was completely at sea with this whole fair thing. She 
readily agreed with the proviso that I call in 
regularly and let her know what was happening. 

I nodded at Guy as I said, "Yes."

Behind him a reedy voice said, "Bullshit, you don't 
look old enough to be a fucking intern. How the fuck 
can I spend money based on your say so? Fuck this; I'm 
out of here."

Guy had by now released my hand as he turned and spoke 
with that deep growl. "Darryl, that ain't an intern's 
car."

That slowed things down as the group pondered my car 
and assorted eye candy. While this was going on, Guy 
said, "Darryl Champeau from Complete Services. He's 
your plumbing and electrical contractor."

Darryl, a tall, thin, seemingly hyperactive sort, 
relented, sticking out his hand. That broke the ice as 
Lonnie Hullet from Coast to Coast Trucking, Allan 
Mahurin from Lake County Exhibit Services, and Clayton 
Odegard from Premier Fencing shook hands, then waited 
expectantly for Guy to start the discussion. His 
resonant voice took center stage as he held up a single 
sheet of paper. "Each of us received a fax from Swane's 
office with the layout of the exhibit. We were told not 
to deviate from this design."

He paused and I waited for the punch line. Five sheets 
of paper appeared. One held by each contractor. It was 
obvious even to my untrained eye that each layout was 
grossly different. Someone was seriously out to get 
Diana. This project was going nowhere until we sorted 
this out. 

Before we even started, Lonnie said, "I don't know why 
we even fucking bother. I've got semis plus motor 
homes, travel trailers and shipping containers. This 
fucking tiny space won't hold half this shit no matter 
how it's arranged."

Suddenly an elderly figure limped into our circle 
leaning on a stockman's cane. His State Fair uniform 
displayed the name Cody. He calmly observed, "I got 
tired of waiting for someone to ask. Now I'm gonna 
tell."

His hand lightly rested on my arm while he pointed to 
the corner lot with his cane, saying, "Those papers are 
wrong, wrong, wrong."

Talk about getting some attention. We were rapt as Cody 
continued, "Your lot runs back almost to Cosgrove, just 
enough space there for that food booth then from the 
corner here all the way over to that tin shed. You have 
400 amp electrical service, water and sewer for your 
trailers as well as a driveway back there for your 
staff parking."

He took a breath and kept right on. "Your company has 
already paid the resodding fee. You may park anywhere 
on the site and build any type of structure needed for 
your guests or staff. That includes placing posts and 
fencing."

Cody subsided into silence lowering his cane with a 
satisfied smirk looking around into the stunned faces 
of the contractors whose practiced eyes were comparing 
the actual lot with their drawings dimensions. Guy's 
head came around first as he waved the paper toward me. 
He was verging on pissed off and I sure as hell didn't 
want to see this big bastard mad. I quickly said, 
"Okay, here's the deal, gentlemen."

Continued in Chapter Six...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 38