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Last Of Their KindChapter 6 free porn video
Her time with just the power couple and their servants ended a couple days later with the arrival of the oldest son. Karissa had one more night with Carla, and none with Larry despite his begging and frustrated glances.
It had been the most fun day at the ski resort. Karissa’s remarkable progress had her shushing down one of the longer and more difficult slopes. At its end, exhilarated, she finally asked Hanna if there might be some streams and waterfalls from the snow melt.
“We’re here to ski, Karen.” Hanna sounded irritated. “Not to fish or sightsee.”
“I like streams and creeks and especially waterfalls.”
“Well, I wouldn’t imagine there would be much of them. First snow of the season. Perhaps in the spring.” She finally smiled. “Shall we try a harder slope? I think you’re ready.”
“Yes please,” Hanna smiled too.
It was at dinner that evening that the son arrived. Even in the dining room they heard the crunch of the approaching tires.
“He’s here,” said Bradley matter-of-factly.
“Yes,” Hanna sighed.
Karissa thought her mistress suddenly looked tired. It had been a long day of skiing after a long week of it. Though Karissa only felt stronger and more energetic after all that exercise. But she knew she was different.
“Karen, go pack your things,” Hanna ordered.
“But I haven’t...”
“Now!”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I know you don’t have much to pack. You won’t be needing the ski gear we bought you. Just leave it in your room, shower, and put on your old clothing. Understand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I’ll be by in a few minutes. Wait for me in your room.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Go!”
Karissa quickly left.
After showering and dressing, she did have to wait for Hanna for a few minutes.
“Sit,” Hanna gently commanded when she arrived, and sat beside her on the bed. “I must admit I’ve enjoyed having you here. And Bradley has as well. You’ve quite impressed him with your intelligence.”
“Thank you Mistress. I have enjoyed my time here as well.”
“Zachariah will take you to his home. Though I feel it would be good for him to relax here, he is a busy man, both the business and with the Mormon leadership.”
“So he is to be my mentor?”
“My husband is advising him as we speak. About your education and your potential. Theresa tells me you wish to stay in Salt Lake and continue the studies of the church.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Then my oldest will assure that will continue. Other things ... Like I said, my husband is advising him, but it’s up to him what to do with you. He is his own man. He’s a bit headstrong. Always has been. But we’ve come to trust his ideas and his efforts.
“You should know this is unusual. A girl from the Sanctuary...”
“You don’t usually have Theresa bring them here?”
“Not here, no, but...”
“And what Terry did to me? Did you like that?”
“I ... Yes.”
“But you’re not one to do that.”
“No.”
“You like getting fucked and tasting me, and then kicking me out. You’re way of control while being passive.”
“Yes. I’ll have a girl for a day or two. Not a week. And not here. But what I mean is Zachariah isn’t ever part of the ... assimilation of the girl.”
“He’s not interested in lesbians.”
“No he’s not.”
“I guess it’s good then that I’m not a lesbian. Not exclusively.”
“It isn’t about that. Your ... special circumstances. In many ways. Mostly having to do with your invented life. A much more complicated situation than the normal assimilation. Because of Zachariah’s position and the trust he’s accumulated, he’s the best to handle you. You’ll be accepted as Karen with him. And...”
“And what?”
“Like I said, we’re fond of you. And...”
“You showed Zach my picture.”
“Zachariah. Please. Yes.”
“And Zachariah will do what he wants, despite what Master Bradley advises.”
“He’s a good man, Karen.”
Instead of pointing out the presence of fear in Hanna’s eyes, Karissa instead went with bias. “He’s your son. All you and Theresa have done for me, protecting me, and me putting you in this position because I need to be protected, if you have decided Zachariah is the best to continue my protection, I’m certainly not one to complain. In fact, I will show my appreciation the best that I can for all you’ve done for me.”
“Good,” Hanna smiled. “Let’s go then.”
As soon as Karissa met Zachariah, never to be called Zach, she knew she was in trouble. Tall, blond, proud and handsome, the smile he showed her was both predatory and dishonest. His eyes were cold and arrogant.
The smile that wasn’t a smile disappeared, becoming a frown. “What took you so long, Mother?”
“Some last words, Zachariah.”
Bradley’s smile was sad. He and Karissa nodded to each other. Respectful. “Be good, Karen,” he said.
“I will, Master Bradley. I promise,” Karissa told him sincerely. Even if she wasn’t sure it would be the truth.
Larry, opening the door of the Cadillac sedan for her, also gave her a sad smile and nod, which she returned.
Even before Zachariah started driving, he was talking with someone. A man’s voice, speaking the King’s English with what sounded like an oriental accent, came from the speakers. Somewhere from the other side of the world, Karissa figured, where it would be morning.
A half hour of coded talking about real estate and investments it sounded like.
When it ended, Zachariah gave her his dishonest smile. “Hello Karen.”
“Trying to impress me?” Karissa joked.
He chuckled. “Not necessary. But aren’t you the one who tries to impress?”
“What do you mean?”
“Both father and mother. But you’ll find me not so easily impressed.”
“With your father, I was interested. I thought I could learn much from his business experience.”
“I suppose he was clever once. But I’ve had to pull all our family interests into the twenty-first century. Of course I know what impressed Mother.”
“I take it you don’t approve.”
“It’s shameful, but I can’t imagine you’d understand that.”
“You finding your parents shameful? No.”
Zachariah shook his head. “We’re all missionaries, Karen, leading by example.”
“Which doesn’t include acceptance and forgiveness and humility.”
He ignored her. “Leading exemplary lives. And being successful makes it all the more exemplary.”
“So you were showing off.”
Zachariah laughed. “You promised Father you’d be good.”
“Good is a rather ambiguous word.”
“You’re studying our book.”
“Among other things. Your history for instance. As well as the traditional bibles and their history. The Jews and the Christians.”
“Why study those?”
“Context. Mormons are Christians, yes?”
“Of course. Jesus is our savior.”
“And Jesus was a Jew.”
“Yes of course.”
“And like the Jews and the early Christians, the Mormons have had their suffering.”
“Yes they have.”
“So did you and your father discuss my education?”
“He recommends studying for tests. The GED and then the SATs.”
“So I can become a college student?”
“We’ll see.” The way he said it, Karissa felt like that would be doubtful.
“Do you respect women?” she asked.
“Why would you ask that?”
“Your father tested me. He must have told you I was intelligent. Does that matter to you?”
“There’s advantages for women to have intelligence.”
“What advantages?”
“Interesting conversations?”
“Otherwise?”
“Intelligence can be a distraction. A woman can be too smart for her own good.”
“You mean smarter than a man?”
“Thinking you are.”
“There are always smarter people and dumber people, whether they’re men or women.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about being a good wife and mother.”
“Then it’s relative to the husband.”
“Yes.”
“And women should be smart enough to know their place.”
“Yes.”
“And if they don’t?”
“That would be a problem. If they’re not willing to accept their lot, perhaps they’d seek other men? Use their wiles, as old as Lilith, the first whore.”
“So we’re either mothers or whores.”
“At least you didn’t say virgins,” he laughed. “Only one virgin birth.”
“But, aside from enjoying the process, fathers wish the obvious need to fuck to make their children might be something better ignored? To have us all seem like Marys. And I’ve never understand how Joseph was explained. Wasn’t he supposedly Mary’s husband? Didn’t they consummate their marriage? Or was it a marriage of necessity because of her miraculous pregnancy. And if she was supposedly virgin, he must have been immensely trusting in her that God was the one who seeded her egg.”
“Blasphemy,” Zachariah growled.
“Of course it is,” Karissa shrugged. “Nevertheless, it’s confusing. It seems it’s as necessary that Jesus was conceived by a virgin as it is Jesus was resurrected. Although Lazarus was before him in that, even if he supposedly performed the miracle. Perhaps having both virgin birth and resurrection gave him the credentials of Son of God, who died for our sins. Although I’ve heard being a descendent of King David has something to do with it too. The prophecy of the Messiah or something.”
“Are you that evil?”
“I don’t know. Am I? You know I never knew my mother or father, but I think, or at least hope, if I did, I’d at least respect them.”
“I respect that my parents have been successful and have gained high status amongst the church despite themselves.”
“Despite being an unrepentant catamite and a carpet muncher.”
“Yes.”
“And what sins do you embrace? Lust obviously. Pride to be sure. Greed. Envy. Wrath. I don’t know about gluttony, and definitely not sloth. At least five of seven.”
“Why do you antagonize me?”
“Isn’t that what enemies do?”
“Why do you think I’m your enemy?”
“Because you aren’t going to respect your father’s advice are you? To help me with my education and my potential. Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll find out.”
“Not to your home I imagine. To your precious wife? You are married?”
“Yes.”
“Children?”
“Joshua is two. Sarah was born a month ago.”
“That explains it!”
“It explains what?”
“Your lust! Haven’t been able to get any for a while. At least not at home. Unless you’re fucking the maid.”
“Jesus Karen.”
“Too close to home?” Karissa laughed. “So to speak!”
They were driving down a narrow highway where large houses could be seen. They turned into a shallow driveway and waited for the high metal gate to open. Once through, they turned off the continuing driveway and parked beside a gatehouse that had been expanded into a two story home.
“Home but not home?” Karissa said.
“Get out,” said Zachariah.
She followed him to the front door of the gatehouse, where he pulled out a ring of keys and found the right one and unlocked the door. Moans could be heard immediately.
“Shit,” said Zachariah.
The place was a mess. Various food boxes on tables. Clothing scattered about. “Whoever this is has the other two sins,” Karissa said. “Sloth and gluttony.”
“My youngest brother Michael,” Zachariah muttered. “He’s my security and my bodyguard when traveling. Always had a thing for guns and martial arts and pumped up muscles. Was a potential star receiver at BYU until his vices caught up to him. His chances of joining the SEALs went with it. Come on.”
Entering the room where the moans emanated made Karissa realize they were moans of pain. A large, overly muscled blond was fucking what appeared to be a tall black woman in the ass rather brutally.
“Get off that thing!” Zachariah growled, and a thick cock emerged from the asshole and Michael stumbled off the end of the bed, shoved by Zachariah. Karissa saw that the woman’s wrists had been shackled to the bed. She also noticed the woman had a penis and balls.
“Go wash up, you pervert,” Zachariah ordered, while Karissa went to the shackles and noticed just a button released them. The transsexual stumbled off. Zachariah pulled out his billfold and several hundred dollars from it were handed to the she male. “Get your clothing and get out!” Zachariah shouted. The transsexual made quick work of it. By the time she darted out, Michael was also gone.
“At least it had tits,” Zachariah grumbled.
“Is that my job?” Karissa asked. “Turning your brother straight?”
“Part of it,” Zachariah said, pulling off the sheet and revealing a plastic covered thin mattress. “With your beauty...” He began to strip. “Would you take off your clothes and get on the bed, Karen?”
“For you?”
“For now.”
She did and climbed onto the bed. He gently took her hands and shackled her. “You really are beautiful,” he murmured, caressing her. Then surprised her by climbing onto the bed, separating her legs, and heading directly to her pussy with his mouth.
“What else am I to do?” she moaned. His tongue zeroed in to what pleasured her, and not just her clit.
“You’re probably here to replace the maid,” said Michael standing beside her. “My brother made her pregnant, and that made it even harder for me to like her.” His hands gently caressed her breasts, then suddenly squeezed them.
“Ow,” Karissa reacted.
“Try to be gentle, Michael,” Zachariah told him between tongue laps.
“Or it made you less hard,” said Karissa.
“Yes, bitch,” Michael muttered, and bowed his head to suckle her tits. Gentle, but she felt his teeth scrape at her nipples, which made her tense. And yet Zachariah’s skilled cunnilingus continued to build her pleasure. The dangerous scraping even made it all the more intense.
Soon, when Zachariah sucked her clit and fingered high in her pussy, she lifted her ass off the narrow bed and undulated and stiffened and bayed out her pleasure.
Zachariah climbed over her. “Put it in,” he commanded.
Michael undid the shackles.
Blindly finding Zachariah’s cock, not quite as thick but quite a bit longer than his brother’s, she led the glans to her wet pussy and rubbed the moisture onto it. When she left it at her entrance, Zachariah pushed inside her.
“Yes!” she exclaimed.
Zachariah smiled, pleased at her reaction, before lowering his mouth to a breast and cupping and caressing the other with a hand.
Measured strokes inside her began to incrementally become harder and faster. Each thrust neared exit of his glans before stroking deep into her. After what seemed like maximum speed and power, somehow the thrusts seemed to triple their pace and became close in, until he stilled, pressed deep and growled his pleasure. Somehow, maybe the way he ground into her clit or maybe the hot jets she felt in her depths, she followed with her own orgasm. That pleased him as well, and he actually kissed her. Gentle but quick.
He waited for his last ejaculation before lifting himself off the bed.
“My turn?” asked his brother.
“Yes, but wait,” Zachariah said, putting on his clothing. “I’ve seen enough of you naked. Have her give you a blow job first. And Karen?”
“Yes Zachariah?”
“I want you to tell me what he does.”
“Everything?”
“Not in detail.”
“Okay.”
Before leaving them, he brought a pillow to prop up her head.
As soon as the door closed, Michael removed the warm up pants he put on following cleaning off his soiled privates. He climbed onto the bed and brought his penis to her mouth. Hardly hard at all.
“You’re not interested in women,” Karissa said.
“Fuck you bitch. I’m trying.” He grabbed his penis and whacked her lips with it. “Suck it, bitch.”
She did, and he gradually became hard. She waited for him to thrust the thick cock into her, but he never did, except gently towards the end. He understood the nuances of cocksucking, she realized.
As soon as he was fully hard, he pulled his cock away and moved down, aiming the head at her pussy and pushing deep. Made slippery by her own juices and Zachariah’s cum, his thickness didn’t bother her as much as it could have when he began immediately thrusting as hard and fast as his brother ever did, even at the end of the earlier fuck. While grunting with each powerful thrust, it became muffled by a tit, and then the other tit. When he finally came, he bit down on a nipple. “Ow!” she exclaimed. “Fuck!”
He let go and smiled, but it was a complicated smile. Both apologetic and celebratory. “I came!” he crowed. Then kissed her abused nipple.
“Yes you did,” she laughed. “But maybe, next time, I can chain you down.”
“Maybe,” he laughed too.
“But why fuck so hard? I noticed what you were doing to the prostitute. You were hurting her.”
“I just get so angry. So angry until I cum, and then I feel...”
“Better?”
“A lot better,” he laughed.
“And were you like that with the maid?”
“I’m always like that.”
“She was afraid of you?”
“She tried not to show it. She was a pretty thing. Maria. Latina. Not nearly as beautiful as you, though. But I think she worried I might harm her baby. I offered not to ... uhm ... fuck her there.”
“You mean fuck her ass?”
“Yes. Zachariah never lets me. I know he checks. But I thought ... But she managed to run off before I could hold her there. After that, she was gone. Like the others. Sometimes I see them as maids at other houses. I couple even married one of the older members of the Church.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know. Several.”
“And you still prefer men?”
“Please don’t say that. I’m trying.”
“I’m just trying to understand, Michael. Can you tell me what bothers you about women?”
“They’re just missing something I guess. And the smell.”
“The way I smell bothers you?”
“Oddly no. You smell really good to me.”
“Then maybe you can do what your brother did. Your semen is there, as is your brothers. You don’t mind that?”
“It definitely doesn’t bother me. But ... I’ve never done that.”
“I can direct you. Tell you what pleases me. Do you want to please me?”
“I should,” he said.
“Try?”
“Okay.”
He moved down. He kissed her vulva. “Use your tongue. And no teeth, okay?” she said.
He nodded. With her head propped up, she could watch him. She told him how to treat her clit. “Bring me your fingers,” she said, and she wetted them with her mouth. “Push one in,” she taught him, “and feel for a textured area just behind my pubic bone.”
“I feel it,” he grinned.
“Now rub it. Gently if you can. Keep using your lips and tongue. Yes Michael! Now your other finger. Fuck me with both fingers. Go harder now. Yes! Suck my clit like it’s a tiny cock. Keep going! Right there! Yes!” She undulated as she came. He pulled his mouth off, but returned it to her pussy, lapping up her juices.
When he pulled away a second time, he grinned. “You taste weirdly sweet,” he told her.
“I’m glad,” she smiled. “Now bring me that cock of yours and let’s try some sixty-nine.”
“Okay.”
When he got hard again, he began thrusting. She angled his cock away. “Michael.”
“Sorry.”
“Could you take off my restraints? And fuck me doggy style? Just don’t fuck my ass. I don’t want you to hurt me.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Good.”
Once turned around, he embedded his thick cock inside her pussy and began ramming into her.
“Can you slow down?” she asked.
“I ... can’t,” he said, and kept ramming away until he came not long after.
“Wow,” he said after, pulling out of her and slipping off the bed. She climbed off too, and put on her clothes. He covered his lower half with his warm ups.
He looked at her hopefully. “Am I cured?”
She didn’t want to tell him the truth. “We’ll see,” she smiled.
Outside the room, Zachariah looked at them curiously. “Go take a shower, Karen,” he commanded. “There’ll be clothes your size in there.”
Clothes her size? It reminded her of a woman guest early on at the chalet. Thickly built but pretty, she thought she was there for Hanna. Instead, after dinner, the woman took her measurements and left.
Karissa couldn’t help chuckling at the bra and panties and long dark skirt and high buttoned white blouse, everything conservative in the extreme.
When she entered the shower, she noticed the door open. “Want to join me?” she asked.
“No,” Zachariah replied humorlessly. “Did my brother... ?”
“Fuck my ass? No.”
“Good. Take your time. I want you thoroughly clean.”
“Inside and out?”
He finally laughed, and left her to clean herself. She tried expelling the cum inside her via internal vaginal muscles, and found it remarkably effective. The rest she figured was expelled when she let herself piss. Once she felt clean, she turned off the water, dried and dressed. Grabbing her other clothes, she exited the bathroom.
“You won’t be needing those,” said Zachariah, taking them from her and throwing them away.
“Not very provocative,” she grinned, spinning around like a model.
“It’s for my wife,” Zachariah laughed.
“And you know what I look like underneath them.”
“Yes.”
When they finally drove to the circle that fronted the mansion, huge, white, Georgian style, with columns, a couple of wide steps leading two large double doors, a slim Latino man took the place behind the wheel of Zachariah’s Cadillac. A statue served as a fountain in the middle of the circle. Seagulls.
A large room greeted Karissa. A crystal chandelier lit it. On one side was a huge pointillist painting of the Mormon Temple, and on the other side, an expressionist painting of a dour Joseph Smith. On the left, wide stairs curved up to the second floor. Zachariah led Karissa through an archway. “Coatroom,” he gestured to a door to his right. And to double doors further down, “Ballroom.” To the left, “Library, Dining room.” Further down, “Kitchen.” He led her through the swinging door.
“Nita,” he smiled at an older, thickset Latina woman. “You’re up!”
“Of course,” Nita smiled. “You were expected.”
“Good. Perhaps you could heat up that chicken and rice casserole?”
“Yes sir. For you as well?”
“Sure. This is Karen.”
“You’re very beautiful,” Nita said.
“Thanks, Nita,” Karissa smiled.
“Sit,” the woman ordered.
They sat.
“My wife?” Zachariah inquired.
“In her room, resting. Javier is watching over the little ones in the nursery.”
“Javier is my butler and Juanita’s husband,” Zachariah explained. “The valet, Robert, is their son.”
“Javier is doing double duty,” Maria scolded. “Are you to be the Mistress’s much needed maid?”
“I haven’t...” Karissa started.
“Yes she is,” said Zachariah.
“Perhaps you would let her last a bit longer?”
Instead of answering, Zachariah laughed. Nita sighed and shook her head.
Nita brought over the reheated food.
“This is delicious, Juanita,” Karissa commented on the food, heavily spiced from south of the border.
“I can make pot roast and meat loaf,” Nita grinned. “But the bosses seem to prefer the food from my homeland.”
“I can understand why.”
While they ate, a pretty if plump blonde woman entered the kitchen. Her extra weight added to her bust and butt, making her voluptuous. “I thought I heard you return, brother,” she smiled.
“Karen, this is Rachel.”
“Aren’t you the pretty one,” Rachel frowned. “New maid?”
“Yes,” said Zachariah.
Nita brought her over a slice of German cake and a glass of milk without being asked.
“Heading back to BYU?” Zachariah asked.
“Early tomorrow,” Rachel nodded before filling her mouth with cake.
“Rachel is studying library science,” Zachariah explained. “She plans to be involved in the Mormon Registry.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Karissa responded. “Quite an ambitious project.”
“It is,” Rachel agreed. “I’m a bit of a writer as well, and hope some of the entries might inspire me.”
“What kind of writing?”
“Short stories.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I hope so.”
“Rachel is the baby of the family,” Zachariah explained.
“Just the three of you?” Karissa asked.
“You met Michael?” Rachel asked.
“I did.”
“Already?”
“There’s a fourth. The second oldest. Esther. She lives in LA and is our contract lawyer.”
“So you’re the only one not in the family business, Rachel?”
“It’s a prestigious position,” Rachel argued, frowning. “The importance of our family isn’t just our successful business.”
“Of course,” Karissa acknowledged.
“But I am thinking about writing our family history.”
That caught Zachariah off guard. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“Our heritage, Zachariah. You know our maternal line goes all the way back to Joseph Smith.”
“I know. You’ll let me see it before you publish it?”
“Of course.”
Karissa and Zachariah finished their meal. “Come on,” he said. “Let me introduce you to Brittney.”
“Brittney?” Karissa thought.
He guided her back to the entrance hall and to an elevator that slowly brought them to the second floor. At the end of the corridor he knocked at a door and opened it. Entering what looked like an old fashioned dressing room. A vanity with a large oval mirror. A chest of drawers with a velvet case on top. Jewelry. Doors on either side of them Zachariah opened. “Walk in closet. Bathroom.” And a door on the other side. “Your room.”
Karissa glanced inside. Narrow with a single sized bed. A chest of drawers, an armoire and a desk at the end in front of a window. Everything but the desk along one side of the room. Too narrow for anything on the other side.
“Come on,” Zachariah ordered impatiently. Karissa left her stuffed old backpack inside and closed the door.
When Zachariah opened the door to the bedroom, Karissa thought, “pink.” Pink had been in the dressing room, but not quite as obviously. Pink canape bed. Pink carpet. Pink drapes on the window. The only thing not pink were the walls, which might have been some sort of off white with a pinkish hue or just reflections of the rest of the room. A female only room. Husband and wife slept separately.
Karissa followed Zachariah around the bed to a metal chair with pink padding. Britney set aside her book, a romance it looked like with its gaudy cover with a buff man and a delicate woman, and watched them. She was a beautiful young woman with light golden blonde hair. Pale white skin. Younger than Karissa thought she would be. Barely twenty, if that. She smiled at Zachariah, but sadness remained. She was using the lamp on the side of the bed where they approached her. Zachariah leaned down and kissed her. Short and sweet.
“Hi Brit,” he said.
“Hi Zachariah.” Her voice was soft and slightly high.
“This is Karen. I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.”
“Yes Zachariah,” she pouted, and watched him leave the room.
Karissa sat on the chair. “I guess I’m your new maid.”
“That makes sense,” said Britney.
“Anything I could do for you now?”
“Have you been a maid before?”
“Not a personal maid. I grew up in a big house, sort of residential hotel, and did a lot of the cleaning and was a cook as well.”
“I don’t think Juanita would want you to cook.”
“Unless she wanted a day off?”
“I suppose.”
“And she does all the cleaning?”
“Zachariah definitely understaffs.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Truthfully?”
“Speaking the truth is a good thing, don’t you think?”
“It should be. I don’t think it’s safe working for my husband. Not if they’re young and pretty, which seems to be my husband’s criteria.”
“Which means I’m not safe.”
“No you’re not.”
“And you are?”
“He’s my husband. He keeps me safe. But he also keeps me as if I’m a fragile, delicate object. Especially since I became the mother of his children. But even before that I think. I was a virgin when we married.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen. My father’s little princess. Even if he sent me off to boarding school in Switzerland. At graduation, Zachariah was there with him. A week later I was marrying Zachariah at the Mormon Temple.”
“Can you call him Zach?”
“No.”
“Even without him here?”
“It is a mouthful,” Britney laughed.
“So it was arranged?”
“A business deal.”
“Jesus.”
“You shouldn’t ... never mind. Zach’s not here,” she laughed. “My father’s company makes parts. Very delicate and precise. The family has for generations. The famous Swiss movement in watches, and with new technologies, parts for those.”
“So you’re Swiss?”
“Swiss German originally, but my father immigrated to America to expand the family business. I was born here. Milwaukee. My family has always taken things seriously. Their work. Their religion. Lutheran. My father married a second generation Swede, who was and had to be equally devout. I grew up in a mansion larger than this one, with several servants, though I think it was mostly my father hiring locals. It was appropriate to our wealth, but hardly opulent, with a large but quite plain chapel.
Latisha
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