Jason Cannon: Daddy_s hot twins

Candy and Cindy were no longer virgins and it was to be just the beginning.

A few months later their Uncle Don left. The girls were sad, even though it didn't end their explorations. They went right on conquering sexual worlds anyway. First there were a few boys at school, but for them, boys quickly became boring. The age, experience, and maturity of their uncle and his sex methods had spoiled them.

They shifted their attentions to more mature men. Then they included older women. By the time the girls were seventeen, there was nothing about the bedroom arts that the girls hadn't experienced and still they wanted more.

It was only natural that the girls' escapades would eventually reach their mother's ears. The rising rift between the twins and their mother grew wider and wider until none of them could stand it any longer. They truly began to hate each other.

The twins finally insisted, upon their graduation, that they be allowed to fend for themselves and live on their own. The mother agreed, but flatly told them that it would be without her money.

That was when the girls appealed to their Uncle Don. He had also grown to loathe his sanctimonious sister, so he readily agreed to help his two nieces. Don had several contacts in the publishing and fashion fields. It was easy for him to find highly paid modeling work for two such beauties as Candy and Cindy. With their beautiful bodies it was only natural that they would soon graduate to the far more lucrative field of nude modeling.

They were immediately successful. They weren't able to live as they had when they had the backing of their mother's huge fortune but they were at least able to live as they liked and fuck all they wanted to whenever they wanted.

Then, as if all the bitterness, the hate, and the sour bile in their mother's body and mind were more than the human body could stand, the mother went to her reward. And she did so still cursing her daughters and their evil ways.

Her will, the girls learned to their surprise, was merely an extension of her attitudes toward them. They were not to receive a penny of the old lady's money until they were nineteen years of age.

That was the first stipulation, and not too strange.

The second was different. If they weren't married, and pregnant, and settled down by that time, all the money was to go to charity.

Since the girls had been able to survive so far on their own, they paid little heed to the will. They both agreed that having such a great sum of money would be nice, but not nice enough to marry and give up their freedom for it.

It was two weeks to the day of their nineteenth birthday when their father made his phone call and summoned them, at his expense, to Europe.

It was all mysterious and all very exciting.

"I am Gorn Plato, your father's man."

Both girls had the same identical thought at exactly the same time: our father has a man… a valet? He must have hit it big after all.

"You are both very beautiful young ladies," Gorn Plato continued. "I will take your bags. The bar pulls out from the back seat. Please make yourself comfortable. The drive to the castle will take about four hours."

The girls exchanged fearful looks and slid into the well-appointed back seat of the huge Mercedes limousine.

The huge chauffeur, if that was indeed his job, put their bags in the boot and crossed around the car to the driver's side. His shoulders barely made their way through the door and his shaved head almost touched the roof of the car, as it slid smoothly and silently away from the curb.

The highway out of Zurich was wide for several miles and then narrowed as they climbed into the mountains.

The twins availed themselves of the bar and set back to survey some of the most beautiful scenery in the world. Green forest rose to lofty, snow-capped alps that soared far above.

They sipped their drinks and exchanged furtive glances. It had all happened so fast, within forty-eight hours of the phone call, that neither of them could be sure that it was happening at all.

After unceremoniously dressing the unsuspecting Les and kicking him out of the apartment, Cindy had built a drink for her sister, set her down, and related the gist of the phone call.

"It was weird," Cindy said. "I answered and this operator asks who I am. I tell her and then she says, 'One minute for overseas… Count Zachery.' I figured he's just another weirdo who saw some of our pictures and somehow got our number, ya know? I mean it's been so long that I didn't put the name together. Especially not when it was tied to the title, 'Count'."

"All right… all right," Candy said. "Skip the bullshit and get on with it. I'm dying of curiosity!"

"Okay," Cindy continued. "This dude comes on the horn and says, 'Cindy, this is your father,' I about shit and told him so. He laughed, then comes right back with a lot of little details about Mom, the schools we went to, the source of our money from the trust, everything. He even expressed condolences, a little tongue-in-cheek I think, about more and told me he knew all about the will."

"But how could he know all that?" Candy asked.

"He couldn't," Cindy replied, "unless he was who he says he was… or is. Then he says he wants us to visit him in Zacheist."

"Where's that?"

"In Switzerland."

"I can't go," Candy said.

"Why?"

"I'm afraid of heights," she giggled.

The following morning a messenger delivered two Swiss-Air tickets and two trunks of clothes, their exact size, to the apartment. After looking at the expensive labels on the clothes and realizing that the tickets were for real, the girls decided not to fight it; father or no, whoever he was he wasn't cheap.

Since Candy and Cindy had been modeling, several well-heeled gentlemen had seen fit to entertain them in exotic places. The girls, always game for a good time, had rarely declined the offers. And never had they been disappointed in the good times, the sex, or the places they had visited.

But never had the offer been extended so strongly, strangely and accompanied by thousands of dollars in wardrobe.

That same evening they boarded the plane with some nervousness but a great deal of curiosity.

And now they were in the back seat of a very expensive auto, in a foreign country, studying the back of their father's servant's bull neck.

"Did you ever see anybody so big?" Candy whispered.

"I wonder if he's that big all over," Cindy replied, and giggled.

"Ouch," Candy said.

"How many people live in Zacheist?" Cindy asked, leaning forward toward Gorn Plato.

"About six hundred people are dependent upon your father for their welfare," he replied.

"I don't understand," Candy said.

"We, in Zacheist, have not progressed at all beyond feudal times. The lord of the castle in Zacheist is still lord of the land and its people. The people depend upon the land. The land must have a ruler."

"But that's not what I asked," Cindy said, becoming somewhat angered by his abrupt manner and his enigmatic answer.

"Your father will explain," he replied, and before either of the girls could ask any more questions, the glass dividing driver from passengers rose into place, neatly separating the car into two sealed compartments.

"Cindy," Candy asked, "are you scared?"

"A little… but, what the hell, we wanted kicks and adventure."

Candy nodded in agreement but poured herself another stiff drink for fortification.

Both girls had been lulled to sleep by the drink and the gently rocking motion of the big car. They awoke when Gorn Plato's huge, ham-like hand jostled both their shoulders.

Both girls groggily looked around outside the car, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.