Daughter s Incestuous Therapy 3 The Joys of Mothers Loving Sons
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My Three Sons 17: Up From The Kitchen free porn video
My Three Sons Chapters 17: Up From the Kitchen
By Ron Dow75
Having just left the bathroom, Winnie turned around, and
asked Uncle Charley, "Whatcha you doing?"
From just within the threshold, he was scanning the room,
"I'm checking to see how much of a mess you gals made in
here."
Winnie told him, "There isn't. Tammy told me to use the
toilet paper, remember?"
{She caught sight of some that had gotten stuck
to the bottom of her black punch wingtip-style
Mary Janes.}
Uncle Charley finished the cursory inspection; he came out,
"She was talking about wiping yourself."
Winnie asked, "I wasn't supposed to use it to clean up
anything else?"
{She lifted the shoe up past a bare knee.}
Uncle Charley sighed, "Never mind." And he slapped her foot
down. "Don't do that in a dress!"
Winnie asked, "Then how am I supposed to get it off?!"
Uncle Charley said to her, "You do it lady-like," and he
gracefully demonstrated, "by bending your knee backward."
And he reached for the imaginary tissue.
Winnie imitated him, "Being a lady is awkward. Can I do it
faster next time?"
Returning to his inspection, Uncle Charley asked, "Did you
wipe from front to back?"
Winnie asked, "Is that important when you're cleaning up?"
She was a little distracted; what did she do with the
sheets of toilet paper now?
Trying to maintain the petty officer role, he asked, "Did
you wash your hands, afterwards?!" Speaking of which, he
took the papers from her small hand.
No longer distracted, Winnie said, "You bet. Toilet paper
helps keep a lot from escaping, but it does it mainly by
absorbing. Then it gets on your fingers."
The tissues in his hand, Uncle Charley looked towards the
ceiling, "Why do I bother to ask?"
Winnie said, "My teachers have always said you learn more
by asking questions."
{She was standing as Ernie so often did, one leg
flexed, toes pointing sort of outward.}
Uncle Charley put his empty hand against her low and narrow
shoulders, "There are times and places when it's best not
ask questions. Now, you go down into the kitchen and get
yourself a snack. I'm going to ask your dad if he's ready
to take you on."
Winnie did go for the stairs across from the bathroom. But
she paused, one foot down, as she had a thought, "If
Tammy's the first one, shouldn't Dad talk to Jesse next?
She's the next oldest."
Uncle Charley told her, "Believe me, we're not going by
order of age. Jesse's going to be the last one Steve's
going to want to talk to."
===
Jesse pulled on the band in the back of the bra, and all
around it. There seemed to be enough give (except in where
the breasts go, and there was a wire or something
underneath those). She hooked the clasps together again,
and tested to see if they would come loose.
They would, but she didn't expect she'd be pulling on in
that direction. All she had to do was keep a little bit of
stretch in it.
Holding onto one side, she put her arm through the armhole
of the other. She then put the other arm through the other
hole. Lifting up the band, and keeping the tension on it,
she brought it over as she ducked her head in.**
She had some trouble when it didn't want to go past her
shoulder-length bob wig without pulling at the bobby pins
holding it to her own hair.
That part over with, she pulled the bands down and around
her rib cage. She squirmed her shoulders, trying to get
comfortable in it.
She pulled the fronts down, gently easing the wire over her
good-sized breasts (when had they stopped becoming boobs?).
She then finished getting the band in place all around her.
She squirmed her shoulders, trying to find a comfortable
place under them.
The breasts weren't. She moved the cups around, trying to
find the right fit. (The wires didn't let you forget them.}
Every time they were moved, her hard nipples sent a shiver
around and into their breast and down her spine. It made
her even more careful.
Trying every combination, she thought about fiddling with
the straps. "I have got to be doing something wrong. I know
girls take a long time to dress, but how do they get to
school or any place on time if they have to do it this
way?"
Making the straps too loose wasn't the answer. Tightening
them up (perhaps too much), she decided to take the direct
approach. Putting a hand in the opposite cup, she moved the
breast around. That seemed to work better.
She used both hands on both breasts at the same time.
Her warm girl heated up even more as she felt a familiar
urge. She could imagine she still had Chip's, but instead
of spreading up all of it, the buzz was concentrated in on
small area at what would have been his base. The rest of it
had become totally without support and shoved inside of
her; but it wanted to come out. The really strange thing
was that the more sensitive it got, the wider it made her
inside.
And wetter! She didn't think her Tampax could absorb much
more.
Her knees weakened, and she shuffled backwards towards the
bed.
===
The little girl in the mid-thigh ribbed jumper was resting
her arms up on the countertop. She was waiting for the
toaster to pop.
When it did, she uncrossed her shin, and pulled the open
strawberry jam jar up to it. Testing the toast with two
fingers, she then pulled out the slice and dropped it on
the counter next to a bowl she had ready. She then used the
tablespoon to spread the jam on the toast.
That done she went to the refrigerator, and opened the
freezer door. She took out a carton of vanilla ice cream.
Steve Douglas said, "You're feeling that bad?"
Winnie said over her shoulder, "Oh, hi, Dad! I guess I do
feel bad." She brought the ice cream over to the counter.
"But I thought you might be a while, so I needed to have a
snack that would keep me busy."
Dad moved to his chair at the head of the kitchen table,
"You take your time. We can talk while you prepare your
snack."
Winnie said, "Thanks!" She opened the carton. "Do you want
some, too? I can get you a bowl, if you want."
Dad said, "No, thank you. Winnie, uh, about you being a
girl, now."
{While she looked like a girl, those motions that
did not have to go through her hips seemed more
like a little boy's.}
Winnie used the spoon to scoop the ice cream, "I don't
blame you, Dad. It's not your fault your company works with
strange radiation." The ice cream was soft enough that the
spoon hardly bent.
Steven Douglas told her, "This cannot be from radiation! It
goes against everything we know about it. Any mutations
that occur cause unhealthy cells, or changes that are only
passed on to the next generation."
Having put one scoop in the bowl, Winnie said, "Haven't you
read Superman? Red kryptonite does all sorts of weird
things. Then, after 48 hours, everything goes back to
normal."
{Simply having a dress on did not make somebody a
girl.}
Dad asked, "Do you think that's what's going to happen with
you and the others?"
Winnie brought the bowl, spoon and toast over to the table.
"Sure. And the thing about red kryptonite is once it does
one thing to you, it can't do the same thing twice. It's
like getting sick."
Steve reached out his very large hand for her little one,
"Winnie... there is no such thing as kryptonite."
Winnie sat down, "I know that. You have to be from Krypton
for kryptonite to get to you."
{Her face briefly let show what she thought about
sitting on the wooden table in a short dress.}
Steve said, "I'm confused."
Winnie told him, "You know I like to read about science. I
mean I'm no longer a foster kid; I belong to a family of an
engineer, now. Well, I saw in the table of elements that
there really is krypton." She had withdrawn her hand.
{She may be a girl now, but she still did not
like "precious" moments like adults did.}
Steve Douglas tried to understand what the child was
thinking, "You think that my company is turning krypton
into kryptonite?"
Picking up her spoon, Winnie said, "And since it's man-
made, it can work on people." She did like thinking she had
figured it out.
Dad softened his voice, "What will you do if in two or
three days, you're still a girl?"
Winnie said, "I'm a little kid. Any time I think that far
ahead, it's all a daydream or nightmare."
{She dealt with nightmares by telling them that's
all they were, and trying not to think about
them.}
Dad put his hand on hers again, this time to keep her from
filling her mouth, "Tell me, right now, off the top of your
head, what will you do if you find you have to stay a
girl?!"
Winnie got that off-in-the-distance look Ernie got when he
was thinking deeply. "Try not to look too dumb."
{Her buckteeth showed.}
Dad said, "Dumb?"
She picked up the toast with her free hand, "Of course, I
really won't know what's dumb or not until I see how
everybody else handle being girls."
===
On twitching legs, Jesse felt like a ballerina who'd been
doing too many plies as she hurried over to the desk behind
the boxes lying on the floor. She rummaged through the
drugstore bag for less than a minute then tipped it over
onto the desk. She picked through the items. The tampon?
That was for when she started bleeding. The bikini formula
hair removal lotion? No, that wasn't what she need, or
wanted. The Secret? Wrong kind of deodorant. The talcum
powder?
It would dry her out, but could you use it there? It's used
on diaper rash, isn't it? "...for external use...do not use
on broken skin..." It's not really skin...Do you want to
put talcum on your lips? Or butt hole? Chip had done that
only a couple of times.***
The girl in just an uncomfortable bra said, "What am I
thinking!? Even if it's okay, I don't want it soft and
smooth. I'm trying to get it were I don't want to touch
it."
She picked up the box with the douche. She remembered what
the bitter clerk had said about it being a mild astringent.
"'Astringent'? Does that mean it's something like a septic
pencil? Talk about using on broken skin!" But at least she
knew that a douche was meant to be there.
She made up her mind, "Having it sting will keep it from
wanting to squirm."
Getting the towel she had dropped on the floor, she sat
down on the desk chair to read the instructions.
"It's as worse as I was afraid it was."
===
Without cold cream, Tammy did her best to ignore the makeup
still on her face. She had something more important to do.
She set to work to continue transforming her life. She had
the name, the clothes, and, now was the time for the room.
She started going through the boxes of things donated by
the neighbors.
She had seen the contents of two of the large cardboard
boxes, the third had six framed pictures, three rolled-up
posters, two loose-leaf binders and other school suppliers,
two small (and squashed) stuffed animals, a great Dane
puppy and a tiger kitten on the end of a short elastic
band, some old makeup, and... some things she couldn't
identify immediately.
She sighed, "Well, I can't use my own binders and
peechees." She brought out one of the binders. "Yeah, a
girl would never have what I have scribbled on the inside
of Robbie's things." Besides three different hearts, a
horse, and a car (this girl dreamed of her own car?), there
were names of boys (two heavily marked over), a list of
girls' names (..."Gigi", "Alouetta", "Marlee", "Bambi"?),
and a separate girl's name, "Adriana Caselotti", and her
phone number... "Adriana? That was my guess for Snow White.
And this." She sighed, "How immature are girls at-no, this
would be from when she was fifteen, maybe fourteen." If
there was one thing that Robbie Douglas didn't like was a
giggly girl who didn't know she was supposed to grow up. It
was certainly not the kind of girl she wanted Tammy to have
to be.
She put the binder back, ignoring the rest of what was on
it. Even the pens, bookmarks, scissors, ruler... "They even
make a protractor for girls?"
{She had made little hearts pointing at 45, 90,
and 135 degrees.}
===
Uncle Charley had been waiting in the bathroom with the
door open. "Steve!" he motioned, getting up from his seat
on the toilet lid.
Steve paused to ask, "What is it, Charley? Is it
important?"
Charley came out to him, "I know. You're going to have a
talk with the middle one, now. Jesse. I don't think this is
the right time to do it."
Steve looked at her closed bedroom door. "Any particular
reason why?"
The man who was his father-in-law's brother said, "If you
mean have I been peeping or anything, I haven't! No, what
you've got there is what is called 'a typical moody teenage
female'."
The dad relaxed a bit, "I'm glad to hear that!"
Surprised, Charley said, "You are!?!"
Steve almost smiled, "Considering what has happened to her,
I think it's remarkable that she's a typical anything!"
Charley grunted. "Well, you're going to have to choose your
moments. And walking into the lioness's lair is not the
smart place to do it. Let that be where she can storm off
and sulk: Alone!"
Steve asked, "You may be right, Charley." Then he had a
thought, "How did you get so wise about teenagers,
Charley?"
Charley told him, "What do you think I do while you guys
are out of the house, just clean and cook? I have the TV on
as background noise like all the other housewives! And I
know that, because I listen to them, too! -Huh! We think we
have troubles! Wait until the hormones really start to
fly!" He made the shape of an explosion with his hands.
Steve got serious again, "Yes, I had heard that about
teenage girls. I had thought we wouldn't have to deal with
that... Uh, other than second hand, as girlfriends of the
boys." He remembered Mike's and Robbie's history with
girls. "Maybe we should think about trading roommates. You
know, take Winnie out of the boiler room, and team Jesse up
with the stable influence of Tammy?"
Charley said, "And where would the oldest, Tammy, go to
decompress!?! How long is Tammy going to be stable if Jesse
keeps rubbing her hormones against hers!?! I knew this
bo's'n's mate. He was as tough as nails, but going home to
his daughters scared the bejeebers out of him! He told me
the only reason he ran-away to the sea in the first place
was because he had sisters."
Steve thought about, "Still, I don't like the idea of
Winnie being exposed to things that may be too... advanced
for a girl her age."
Charley told him, "I say it's best to knock the curiosity
out of her as soon as possible. Humph! Better she learn it
from them, than us!"
Steve Douglas's eyes lit up. "Charley! You're a genius!"
Charley, confused, said, "Well, I know that..."
Steve headed back for the stairs. "Hold down the fort for
me! I'll only be gone a couple of hours!"
Charley cried, "Hours!!" And he hurried to call down the
stairwell, "Some genius! What kind of genius allows himself
to be in the middle of the no man's land!!?!"
Winnie had squeezed herself against the wall to allow her
dad to get by (he had smiled and touched her shoulder as he
passed); now, she was coming back up, "Where's Dad in a big
hurry to get to?"
Uncle Charley told her, "I don't know! If I did, I would've
taken off first, and left him holding the bag."
Winnie asked, "I'm a bag?"
{She stopped on the last step.}
He said, softening his frown, "Naw!... You're not a bag.
(You girls are too young.)
"What are you going up here?"
Winnie answered, "I'm going into my room," up in the hall
now.
Uncle Charley informed her, "Your sister, Jesse, is still
in there!"
Winnie looked at him, "Yeah, so?"
{Her hands rested on her boyish waist.}
He put his fists on his hips and asked, "What, exactly, did
Steve say to you?"
Winnie said, "He said you can't make kryptonite from
krypton," keeping her hands were they were.
Uncle Charley said, "Unh-hunh. Okay, what else did he tell
you?!"
She said, "She said when you're learning something you
don't know anything about, you're bound to be dumb once in
a while."
{She lowered her hands.}
Uncle Charley said, "What kind of dumb talk is that!?!"
Winnie defined her dad's wisdom, "It's not dumb!" She put
her fists on her girlish hips. "Dad said somebody who's
afraid of doing something dumb, will never learn how not to
do dumb things."
Uncle Charley said, "As if you needed a license. Is that
it?!"
Winnie thought about it, lowering her hands again. "That's
all that I can remember. Other than you need to buy more
strawberry jam."
Uncle Charley almost raised his hands, "I thought it would
come down to me. It's my job to do the dirty work in this
house."
He looked around, and pulled her by her white blouse sleeve
over to the writing desk in the hall. "There's going to be
some rule changes around here."
Winnie said, "Just because I'm a girl, now?"
Uncle Charley said, "No! Because she's a girl, now! More
specifically, a young woman. And, while we're talking about
women, I want you to include the other one in your list of
rules. Got it!?!"
Winnie said, "No, but I'm listening," holding onto her
elbows.
Uncle Charley sat down on the edge of the desk, "Fine.
First rule: You're not to barge into their rooms! You knock
first and wait for them to answer."
Winnie asked, "What if they're in their room? Or what if
they're asleep? Do I wake them up?"
Uncle Charley said, "Okay: Wear a watch. Give them a
minute, and then you can barge in!"
Winnie said, "I have to wait a whole minute to go into my
own room?" She took her hands off her elbows.
Uncle Charley said, "Look! Do you like strangers looking at
you!?!"
Winnie said, "Heck, no! I don't even like looking at me,"
bobbing her chin down.
Uncle Charley, "Well, your sisters feel that way, too, only
more that way! They're bigger!"
Winnie understood, "They've got boobs."
Uncle Charley decided to take that path, "That's right.
What you said."
Winnie continued with the logic, "And I don't have boobs.
They don't like people without them to see them. Without
anything covering them, that is."
{Her open hands were back around her waist.}
Uncle Charley surrendered, "Yeah. That's the way it goes."
Winnie went further, "But girls like people to look at them
when they are covered."
Uncle Charley shook his head in a prayer, "These girls!?!
That'll be the day. Oh, brother! Will that be the day!"
The End of this installment
** This was before sports bras and other stretchy, solid
band bras
*** This was before worries about the vaginal use of talcum
powder killing beneficial bacteria, or causing ovarian
cancer.
Confession: To anybody who can get reruns of this show, I
am basing the layout of the Douglas house on the blue
prints in a book called "TV Sets" by Mark Bennett. Any
other discrepancies in this alternative world are because
this series was based mostly on my memories and
preferences. It made, and makes, it easier and more fun for
me to write that way.
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