Date: Tue, 16 Aug 2011 20:08:19 +0200
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: Three's an Odd Number. Chapter One.

For adults of eighteen years or more. It may be a slow start but persevere
and enjoy all chapters. Comments, good or bad are welcome and all will be
answered.

Chapter One

				 Prologue

     Friday seems to be an odd surname but that was the one given to us by
the convent where we were born because they could not find out the proper
name of our mother. She had stopped at the big heavy front door of the
convent having the name of The Sisters of Mercy. She'd only just been able
to ring the bell before collapsing on the steps outside.
     The sister who answered the bell didn't panic when she opened the door
and saw our mother lying there even though the sister could see that she
was heavily pregnant. She summoned some of the other sisters and they
carried her into their small infirmary and laid her down on one of the two
beds that the austere room contained.
     She was barely conscious and gasped out between contractions that her
waters had broken and she'd been unable to make it to the hospital. She
gave her name as Mary as she was being undressed and examined and with the
frequency of the pains, they knew that she was close to her time. They
quickly got hot water and towels and before they were really ready, she
began to give birth. My brother was delivered first, and then my sister and
me, last, for we were triplets.
     As she had given her name as Mary, the sisters assumed that it was
very likely that she was a Catholic and so when my brother emerged into the
world, one of the sisters gave him a temporary name of Peter after the
apostle. With that being given and they found that the next child born was
a girl, they temporised and called her Paula. They were amazed when another
child came along and with me showing the signs of being a boy, named me
Simon.
     Three, it turned out, pun unintended, was just too much for our mother
and she began to haemorrhage and with the infirmary not being anything like
a hospital, the sisters were unable to save her life and so she died
without revealing her true faith or surname.
     It was an inconvenience to say the least that they found themselves
saddled with three orphans and a dead woman but stoically accepted it as
the will of God. The authorities were informed and though it was regretted
that our mother had died in childbirth, they praised the sisters for the
safe delivery of us three.
  Mother's body was taken away to the mortuary for examination before being
buried in a paupers grave but the sisters were left lumbered with us three.
That's how we came to have our surname for that was the evening of the day
of the week we'd been born.
     Of course all that I've told you so far is hearsay, for we were not
told for several years until we were able to understand how we came to be
living at this convent. As was our four years that we stayed there until a
place was found for us that turned out to be a farm where the farmer and
his wife took in orphans as foster parents.

			      The Early Years

     You can understand that our first four and a half years of life to us
were slightly hazy and we can only relate to the time we were taken in by
Mr and Mrs Flowers. His given name being Harold and his wife, Flora, which
was rather apt, and the farm was a mixture of cows, pigs and chickens but
also had quite a large acreage of arable land.
     We were collected by car from the nunnery by the Flowers after being
inspected as it were. We'd received some schooling from the sisters and
really knew our place and so we thanked the sisters in turn for their love
and care that they had taken of us and promised to call and see them at
times in the future. There were quite a few tears from the sisters as we
were kissed in turn and we promised to behave in our new home.
     Harold Flowers was a weather beaten man, brown of face that had a
permanent smile, stocky and looked very strong being about forty years of
age. His wife, Flora was a buxom cheerful woman who smiled even more than
her husband and prattled on about they had been unable to have children and
so had become foster parents. We learned that we were not the only ones to
be at the farm for they had another two boys and three other girls
there. It was explained that we would be staying with them for at least
eleven years until we reached the age of fifteen unless adopted, and then
it would then be discussed as to what we would or could do for our future
lives.
     It wasn't explained to us that some of the children that stayed with
them often got adopted and so there would be an almost never ending change
of children there but didn't tell us because it was considered very
unlikely that any couple wouldn't want to take on three all at once and it
was the authorities policy not to split up twins, or in our case, triplets.
     We also found out that we would be expected to help out doing jobs
around the farm when not attending the local school in the village where
the farm was situated. But we accepted this in silence for we'd been taught
to only speak when spoken to and not to butt in to anyone's conversations.
     Three hours after leaving the Sisters of Mercy, we duly arrived at the
farm and noticed that just inside the gates there was a cattle grid to stop
any animals from crossing. Also there was a large shed like structure which
we were told was the farm shop that sold some of the produce from the
farm. Mainly chickens ready for the oven, eggs, fresh vegetables, hams,
bacon, pork, butter, cream and the like. This was because the village
didn't really have a butcher's or greengrocer and so it was easier for the
village folk to buy from the farm rather than getting the bus into the
nearest town.
     The track leading up to the farmhouse was fenced on the left and had
two pastures in which a couple of horses grazed and this excited Paula, who
exclaimed later that she would just love to be able to ride one. On the
right were a row of small cottages that held the farm workers and their
families. All the men working at various jobs of the farm and the wives
helping out here and there as well. It was several days before we found out
that all of those had at least ten children between them so what with the
eight up at the farmhouse, we totalled eighteen. I had learned my numbers
at the nunnery as well as my alphabet, but I was still considered to be the
slow one of us three. It was because of this in the way that I was
introduced to the others in the farmhouse when we met the others, but I'll
come to that in a minute.
     The farmhouse itself looked quite large though not as large as the
nunnery had been. The car parked outside the front door that had lovely
flowers all round the porch as befitting the owners name. Even the drive
had rows and rows all along both sides so that visitors had no doubt who
owned the place.
     There was no hall for the door opened up into a large lounge that
looked very expensive with a thick crimson carpet that seemed to go well
with the panelled walls that held lots of pictures. There was a massive
fireplace that I could have stood inside that was decorated on both sides
with horse brasses and had two wall lamps either side above the mantel
piece. Two huge sofas were in front and four armchairs spreading out either
side.
     `We don't come in here wearing boots or footwear that's been worn out
in the yard or fields,' Flora Flowers told us. `I'll show you later after
you've seen where you'll be sleeping,' and took us up a staircase off to
one side of the lounge that had the same thick carpet on every tread. The
upstairs wasn't as plush as that of below but still looked expensive, a far
cry from the austerity of the nunnery. `This is Mr Flowers and my bedroom,'
she said as we passed the room that obviously overlooked the front yard
`and this is the playroom where there are toys, books and the like.' We
moved round towards the back of the house. `This is the girl's room,' and
she opened the door and we all went in and saw four beds, two wardrobes and
two chest of drawers. It had one big window that had pretty curtains up and
we could see another door half open that showed it had its own bathroom and
toilet. `This will be your bed Paula,' indicating one by the window, `and
that is Anne's, that's Daisy's and other one's Muriel's,' she said
indicating them each in turn. `Now you boys are in the next room,' and we
duly followed her to that one and this was furnished exactly the same as
the girl's. `That bed is for Alan and that one's used by Barry. You can
pick which one you want from the other two,' she said to us. Then she went
on to explain the rules regarding our beds and rooms in keeping them clean
etc and lots of other trivia which was really most obvious.
     She took us back downstairs and showed us the dining room, which was
only used on special occasions or when guests were dining at the farm and
led us on into the kitchen that was as big as the lounge and had a massive
scrubbed table where we would usually have our meals. Off to one side and
almost taking up the whole wall was a great big Aga style cooking range
with hobs and next to it an open fireplace where they actually roasted
whole pigs on a spit. There were several pots on the stove being attended
by a young woman who was introduced as Mary Stillwell, one of the farm
worker's wives. Above the cooker were a variety of pots and pans hanging
from hooks as well as utensils to be used in cooking. Against another wall
was a huge dresser with four glass doors and four huge cupboards below the
same number of drawers. Many knick knacks adorned the top of this dresser
that held various glasses and bottles that could be seen.
     Opposite was a big window that looked out into the back yard and below
it was a big stone sink and draining boards with cupboards beneath. Next
was a door that led into another room which wasn't one really. It was more
like a cloakroom for there were many pegs with various items of outdoor
wear hanging there. Boots and shoes were underneath and beside them a rack
with other shoes and slippers and a bench for you to sit down on when
changing boots for slippers. The floor was tiled and this we were told was
where we all came into the farmhouse from outside and washed our hands,
indicating another sink, and changed out of working clothes and boots for
slippers.
     At this point, the outside door opened and in came two boys followed
by three girls, all wearing boots and were rather red in the face and
panting as though they had been running.
     `We saw the car arrive Aunt Flora,' the tallest boy said with a
gasp. She smiled.
     `Well now you're here, let me introduce you all to our new
arrivals. This is Peter, Paula and Simon.'
     `Hello,' the five children said almost together.
     `And this is Allen, Barry, Anne, Daisy and Muriel,' she said, pointing
to them each in turn.
    `Hello,' said we three in response.
     `We're triplets,' Paula added quite proudly.
     `Okay,' Flora said. `You can get to know one another soon for it's
almost time for dinner. Get those boots off and don't forget to wash your
hands,' she said to the others and led us back into the kitchen and told us
which would be our place at the big table and were told to sit down. This
we did and I found that I had an empty seat on my right which turned out to
be Allen's place and next to him, sitting at the head of the table facing
towards the sink sat Harold. Flora would sit at the other end and the four
girls sat down opposite us boys.
     Mary served up dinner and it was delicious and we ate every scrap,
including the pudding. It was far more and better quality than we'd been
getting at the nunnery. Unlike that place where it was a strict silence
during mealtimes, here they talked through the whole meal. It would nearly
be all talk of the farm and such but this night was solely about us and how
we'd been raised in the nunnery and wanting to know what it had been like.
     It was Peter and Paula who answered all the questions, me keeping my
mouth shut except when I was eating. As it was our first night there, we
weren't expected to help in the washing up and found that we were shortly
to go bed for everybody was up at six in the morning, just like at the
nunnery, so that wasn't any hardship for us. Though some of the other
workers were up earlier than that, but this depended on what job they had
and the time of year. The whole place was geared around the seasons and the
clock. Certain times for the milking, the feeding of the pigs and chickens
and us.
     So we were soon ushered upstairs for bed while the two adults could
have their evening together in the lounge before they too went to bed.
     `I don't think I've heard your brother speak yet,' said Allen when we
went into our room after saying good night to Paula who went off with the
other girls.
    `No, he doesn't say a lot,' Peter said. `He's a bit slow at times and I
think a bit simple.'
     `Simple Simon then,' Allen laughed.
     `I don't think we should call him that,' said Barry as he began
undressing and pulling out his pyjamas from under the pillow of his
bed. `Aunt Flora won't like us calling him that.'
     `Well I've always called him the odd one,' Peter said. `One, two,
three of us and three is an odd number so I've called him that.'
     `Odd One! I like that. How old are you Odd One?' he asked of me but I
didn't answer him.
     `Same as me and Paula,' Peter said. `We'll be five next month.'
     `I'll be six in two months time,' said Allan, `and Barry here is five
and a half.' Allan was now putting his pyjamas on as I was already in mine
and getting into bed. It was nice to have proper sheets to sleep in rather
than the coarse linen ones that were used in the nunnery.
     Flora looked in about fifteen minutes later and said her goodnights to
us and turned out the light for us and me to get to sleep for my first
night in our new home.

				     *

     I'll give you a brief rundown of the chores we had to do before
breakfast. The girls saw to the collecting of eggs and feeding of the
chickens. Barry helped out in the feeding of the pigs. Allen took the
milked cows up to the field for them to graze and see that the electric
fence was working properly, this being a simple wire that carried a small
twelve volt pulse every few seconds to keep the cows from grazing too much
and spoiling what they didn't eat. Peter was shown how to mix feed for the
grinder and because I was thought to be as thick as shit, that's what I had
to shovel. First the cow shed where the cows had been milked and then the
pig sty. I had to make sure my boots were hosed down before entering the
changing room and have a really good wash.
     These were our only jobs for that first year as we were just a bit too
young for much more and we still would be allowed to have some play
time. Though now it was just coming up to the beginning of school term and
we had been duly enrolled and so with the other ten children from the farm,
of varying ages, we piled into a covered farm wagon that was hitched up to
a Land Rover and taken off to school. That was only for the first day and
when it was really raining or snowing, other times we walked the mile and
half there and back every day.
     It was here that I showed the first signs of my peculiarity by not
playing football and rough games with the boys during playtime but tended
to go off with the girls and join in their games. It also showed in the
playroom of the farmhouse where the boys would get out the plastic train
set or the fort and toy soldiers whereas I would pick up a doll and undress
it and re-dress it in another set of clothes.
     It also showed when Flora decided it was time for the boys to have
their hair cut which she did, I absolutely refused to have mine cut,
wanting it to grow long like the girls. They even took to brushing my hair
for me as it grew longer, covering my neck and starting to go down over my
shoulders. Of course the boys picked up on these traits of mine straight
away and began to tease me somewhat, but I didn't care.
     When the other boys at the school started in on me was when the others
from the farm came to my rescue and would stand up for me and even get into
fights. What made it worse was the stupid impulse I had after the first
fight where our lad won, I went up and kissed him.
     Boy, didn't that act go down like a ton of bricks. Our farm had ten
boys other than myself and I was hustled into a corner and given a right
bollocking by them all for doing what I did and when asked why, I couldn't
give them an answer. In spite of that, they still fought my battles for me
though I didn't any more kiss the one who defended me. Well not in front of
the others, but I would later catch him alone and give him a kiss as I
thanked him for what he'd done to protect me. I think in that first year I
must have given each one of them a kiss.
     As the years went on, I began to be treated more like one of the girls
instead of one of the boys, being given one of the easier jobs at harvest
time, though I began to develop muscles through shit shovelling. At bedtime
in our room I began to kiss them all goodnight, even Peter and it wasn't
just a kiss on the cheek but a real one on the lips. My hair was now being
put into a pony tail for me to go to school and still refused to have it
cut but only have the ends trimmed.
     I was still slow at school and nearly always came last because it took
me so long to come up with the answers to anything, even though I knew the
right one, I just took me too long.
     It was a grand life for children growing up on a farm with plenty of
food to eat though we did work hard for it. Christmas was always a busy
time for everybody on the farm which I will come to in a minute.
     Flora had taken on the task of rearing the chickens from the egg into
chicks and then into chickens and we had to help when at a certain time of
their life, they were separated and each one getting a pill injected into
their neck to turn them into pullets for them to eventually put on weight
to become food for the table. Their necks would be wrung and the man in
charge of them would then hold their carcasses up to a plucking machine to
get most of the feathers off and we would pull the last ones out that the
machine missed, to pass them on to one of the wives to gut them and prepare
them for sale in the shop.
     The turkeys were the worse because the demand was mostly for Christmas
and then the bird would be placed head down into a metal funnel so that its
head came out the open end at the bottom. Here we had to use something that
was hinged at this end, something like a pair of nut crackers. This we
would clamp round their neck and push the handles down to break their necks
quite quickly, though it quite a few cases you might push down too far and
pull the bloody head right off. Bloody was right, for their blood would
then spray down and cover your boots. The funnel contraption was also to
prevent them from flapping their wings in their death throes and severely
bruise the carcase. With a chicken, you simply held it under your arm when
you broke its neck. The plucking was done on the machine too except for the
big wing spills that had to be done by hand with a pair of pliers.
     It was the pig man who saw to the slaughter of them that didn't go off
to market, cutting them up for the whole or parts to be roasted in the
kitchen.
     The girls were taught how to make cream and butter from the milk as
well as being shown how to cook a meal for ten or twelve people on the big
range and lots of other culinary skills.

				     *

     I was called Simple Simon at school because of my poor showing but on
the farm I was always called Odd One and answered to that. For they had all
come to know that I was odd, what with kissing the boys and not the girls.
     Things really started to happen when we boys reached puberty. Not all
at the same time but close enough for us to notice and remark on how we
started to get a stiff prick when in bed and not long after, we would get
them at all odd times. More so when it was noticed that the girls started
getting lumps on their chests showing under their blouses. We knew from
school that they were getting tits and it wasn't until Alan got hold of a
girlie magazine that we saw what they really looked like when fully
grown. Now was the time that they began to masturbate. I must admit that I
did too. You always knew when Barry was doing it for his bed gave out a
squeak in time to his hand movements in the dark.
     `Master Bates is masturbating again,' Alan would call out in a cackle
of laughter at the old joke. `Go and do it for him Odd One,' he called out
to me. `Maybe we'll hear him squeaking instead of the bed.'
     `Go on,' Peter urged, `and he can tell us what it was like.'
     Now I've nearly always done what Peter asked me to do and this was no
exception. I too had a stiff prick and had been playing with myself but got
out of bed, my pecker sticking out from my pyjamas but they couldn't see
this in the dark. I went over to Barry's bed and knelt down beside it and
put my hand under the bed covers and pushed his hand away from his cock and
took hold of it myself.
     Wow, did I get a funny tingle run up and down my spine as I felt for
the first time, a throbbing prick in my hand. I didn't realise that the
skin of his was as smooth and silky as mine was and felt almost the
same. Not big or fat but thin and hard and it moved so easily on the solid
piece of flesh that was covered.
     Barry gave out a groan as I moved my hand up and down on his shaft and
felt him give out a shiver as I really squeezed him as I masturbated
him. My own cock was now throbbing like mad and so I changed hands and used
my left on his and used my right on myself. Wanking two at once, I crowed
to myself and enjoyed the pleasure I was getting in two ways.
     I was the first of us four to actually come for the first time. It had
felt a little painful as I jerked myself off as I kept my hand moving on
Barry as his groans grew louder and I paused in doing it to him as I gave
out a little cry as I shot my load under his bed, milking my cock as fast
as I could, also trying to hold the pleasure I was getting from my first
release.
     `Don't stop now Odd One,' Barry groaned, his hand coming back down and
covering mine and trying to get me going again. With my having come, I now
concentrated my effort into making him come too which didn't take long. He
gave out a loud groan and bucked a little as I felt it come out of the head
of his cock and hit the top of the sheet and come back down onto my hand. I
kept on doing it till he sank back on the bed with a sigh and I felt no
more coming up through his penis.
     `I came,' he cried out to the others and pulled my head towards
  him and gave me a kiss. `It was great,' he said after giving me that
kiss.
     `Me next Odd One,' cried Alan from his bed, and so I got up and went
over to his, my dick having retreated back into my pyjamas. `Wow, this is
great,' he said as my hand covered his cock and began to rub it up and
down.
     `I've made a mess all over my sheet,' Barry complained in the
darkness.
     `Don't make a mess of mine,' Alan admonished me as I worked on his
erection. Whether it was natural or not, I don't know but he flinched a bit
as I pulled the sheet down from Alan's body and as I felt him start to
stiffen up, giving out a groan, I bent my head and took the head of his
cock into my mouth. I couldn't see it in the dark but it felt so hot and I
could feel the heat and his pulse rate through it as my lips closed round
the head as my hand kept coming up to my chin as I rubbed him. Then he
came. It was quite some force, but his sperm flooded my mouth and I nearly
took my head from his but kept it there as more and more of the stuff came,
filling my mouth, forcing me to breath hard through my nose. He gave out a
long sigh as he finished and I felt him start to relax now that he'd
finally come. But I was now in a quandary. I still had the head of his cock
firmly between my lips but I couldn't release him or his semen would come
out and make a mess. I did the only thing I could think of and that was to
swallow it which I did. It was just like having a piece of phlegm from a
cough there and no handkerchief to spit it out in and it didn't taste too
bad either, well better than phlegm in fact.
     `Thank you Odd One,' he said with another big sigh. `That was bloody
marvellous.' I sat back on my heels feeling quite pleased with myself at
actually getting some approbation from Alan himself.
     `Could you do the same for me Simon?' Peter asked in a shy voice, his
disembodied voice coming out of the dark. Not only could I hear that he was
shy in asking but it also showed in the fact that he called me Simon. I'd
enjoyed doing it to Barry and even more with Alan by taking him into my
mouth and swallowing his coming. Brother or not, I now wanted to take
Peter's cock in too and suck and have his come to swallow as well. I
quickly rose up and went to his bedside and pulled down the sheet and took
his prick into my hand.
     `You don't have to if you don't want to,' he said in a low voice as I
began to rub him up and down.
     `But I do,' I said as I bent my head and took him in to another groan
like Alan's as my lips closed round the head. It was lovely even if it was
my brother's cock I was sucking on, it felt that I was now in charge of him
for I could have bitten the bloody thing off such was he in my power. But
that would be like cutting off my nose to spite my face for I found that I
liked sucking on a throbbing male organ.
     I felt the surge and was ready for the erupting sperm and took it all
and waited till he finished coming before swallowing it all, listening to
his little cries of pleasure. I licked round the head as best I could to
his whispered thanks before releasing him and getting up from the floor. I
was a trifle disappointed that none of them offered to suck on me but I
didn't care for I was in some sort of heaven having had two pricks come in
my mouth and couldn't wait till the next time. I got back into my own bed
and went to sleep a very happy boy.

				     *