Sins of the Ancestor Pt. 02

I drove with a plan through the streets of York. I had grown up in this area and knew it as only a misbehaved child could. I wasn't concerned about locking Sara in, she had spare keys to get out, and it had bought me time. If she had rushed out, I wasn't sure that I had the strength to fight her off. That would change though, soon as I got my plan in action. Speaking of which...

"Yeah, twenty Chicken McNuggets, a Big Mac meal and two cheeseburgers. Oh, and make my drink a diet coke." I tossed the last bit into try and crack a smile off the nervous little blond puff behind the till. I guessed she was sixteen and on her first shift. Didn't work, she just frowned, looked at her trainer and he set about showing her what to do.

Yep, my grand plan was to get some fast food in me. I was starving, it was simple and easy. I had a few looks, especially off mothers desperately trying to resist their kids chips. I answered them each with a wink and a grin. Fuck them, this is definitely a comfort food day. I feasted.

One inhalation later, I was sat with a scattering of nuggets and some fries left, slurping at my coke and looking smugly at the astonishment on a fat guys face. I was distracting myself, it was fun, but...

What the hell am I going to do? I have five hundred quid (less a McDonald's). That won't last long at all. I have a Citroen Cactus that may or may not have been reported stolen (fugly car, no idea why Sara chose it). I have my phone (S6 Edge, if you wanted to know). Oh, and the few clothes I currently wore. I'd have to take them off to even know what size I am.

I needed a plan.

Okay, I'd had a plan. What I needed was a better plan than gorging on a Maccy D's. I snagged two more McNuggets for the road and left, leaving the remains of my meal for one of their staff to clear up. (Believe it or not, that's not me being an arse. I worked in a McDonald's for a few weeks, when working the lobby you wanted stuff to clear up to break up the tedium.)

Hey, the Cactus has cupholders! Maybe this car isn't a complete disaster. I stuck my coke in one and opened the glove box. Of course there was a pad and pen there. How could you take down insurance details without having that handy? Sara's nothing if not prepared.

She may fucking lie to you for years about your future, your past, your own sodding family. Oh, and what she's prepared or how this huge thing's going to fucking wreck yo-

Woah, Nelly. Back away from the ledge. Put down the firehose.

I took out the pad and pen, flicked to a blank page and began writing.

Not-Eric's Cunningly Stunning Plan:

1. Think up a name better than Not-Eric. Seriously, that blows.

2. Try to take over the world

3. Put out cat, take in milk, invade Czechoslovakia

4. Go back in time and give Hitler an atomic wedgie

5. Mussolini too

6. Acquire an anvil, coyote and a roadrunner and

...this wasn't working, was it? Okay, point one was valid and pretty vital. Sooner or later I needed to talk to someone and a name is pretty vital for that level of interaction. For the inattentive and dumb - I covered this before - but fuck being called Erika. I'm not some bastardized, female version of Er-

Okay, I kind of am. What I'm not, though, is just whacking an 'a' at the end of my old name and calling it quits. New body, new life, new name. I looked down at my list and scratched through points two through six.

Not-Eric's Cunningly Stunning Plan:

1. Think up a name better than Not-Eric. Seriously, that blows.

2. Try to take over the world

3. Put out cat, take in milk, invade Czechoslovakia

4. Go back in time and give Hitler an atomic wedgie

5. Mussolini too

6. Acquire an anvil, coyote and a roadrunner and

2. See Jenny.

3. Talk to Jenny too, dumbass

4. Fuck a guy.

5. ....with a condom.

6. ...or in the butt with a strapon. (get a strapon)

7. Get charger, ipod etc from Leeds home

8. Get new id, nat ins number etc

9. Live my life

I looked down the list. Okay, some things I could do right now, others would have to wait. Number eight would be tough. I'd need to go home and... yeah, that could wait. I was sure I had missed things but being proactive gave me purpose.

I looked at the list again. Name? I could ponder that as I drove. Jenny? Hmm, she had a lecture but had that been a whole day thing? I could go and find out.

I shifted in the seat, pulling my phone from my pocket. I still had Jenny on Facebook and I was sure I had a message from last autumn, a group invite to her housewarming complete with address. I had ignore it then but...

1 new message. I'd had a ton of messages and calls from my housemates after my vomit-laden exit of Friday night. They began as mocking and moved onto concerned before petering away on Sunday with messages wishing me a happy birthday and to say hi to Sara. It was damn unlikely for any of them to have messaged me in the past hour or so since I'd cleared it, which meant it could only really be one person.

Sara.

Fuck.

I could ignore it, right? Lock it in the glovebox, start driving, focus on the list.

I opened the message.

I understand. Call me or come home when you're ready. You always have my love. X.

I stared at the screen.

It screamed Sara. No matter what she was calm, she was so. Damn. Reasonable.

I... I...

I swallowed, pushing everything away and closed my phone. I put it in the glove box.

So. This list then. Jenny is likely at uni and Leeds isn't that far anyway. It was what, just gone midday? Cool, with luck I would be back before the worst of rush hour struck. And I could think of name ideas as I drove. See, this way I'm multitasking and being even more productive. Not avoiding crap I don't want to deal with at all.

It took just over an hour to drive to my uni house and, radio off, I tried to think of what name to go by. I started with the obvious. Sigrun after mum. Sig. Siggy. I could hear the smoking jokes already. Next please. Sara? Jenny? Uhh, that's just weird.

I moved on, trying to think of random names but kept circling back to the same few. Names like Jane (Doe?), Elizabeth, Catherine to name a few. Problem was, for every name I could think of my mind conjured the image of a girl I'd known that had the name. Known and, on many occasions, fucked. None of those appealed.

I got to Leeds without even a short list of names. Arse. I'd thought the hour plus driving would have been ample time. Oh well, I had the drive home to go still. Maybe I would go through film stars or bands for inspiration.

I didn't have my key but that wouldn't be a problem. Joe had been notoriously forgetful in our first term so we'd hidden a key in the back garden, buried in a flower bed (there were no flowers, just weeds and what may be a strawberry plant bent on world domination). I locked the car and trudged my way down the tiny alley to the back of the house. For the first time, I realised just how small and cramped the alley was. If this was later in the day, the place would be terrifying rather than creepy.

The back gate was unlocked. It was always unlocked, but I had still worried about that potential first time. A couple of minutes and some muddied fingers later, I let myself into the kitchen. My nose wrinkled at the smell. Damn, I'd told Dan to clear up - it was his turn on our little-bitch rota after all - but he'd not bothered. I tutted, shook my head and listened. The house was quiet. Not a surprise, Dan, Joe and I, despite all expectations of so many of the jealous few, had plans to use our degrees and spent a ton of time on campus working. Play hard, work hard.

Great. I had the run of the place. I made my way through the house and headed upstairs. I had the front bedroom, the most expensive of the three in the house but Sara had been fine with that. Almost like she was compensating for some future, untold crime perhaps... Anyway. My room was as I had left it unsurprisingly. First, I hit the play button on my iPod and Coldplay began to fill the room. Being here on my own felt creepy, a bit more volume and there, spookiness gone.

I grabbed my shoulder bag from the chair and tossed it onto the foot of the bed. It would do. I started gathering some nicknacks that mean nothing to others. An old bookmark, a thimble and a small metal tortoise from a shelf. Each had some meaning to me and went in the bag. Next I raided my desk, taking a bit of cash I'd kept there and my watch. I wouldn't wear it again but it was my expensive eighteenth birthday present from Sara. It went in the bag.

I then proceeded to clamber onto the bed, crawled up to the top and stretched my arm down between it and the wall. Worst thing about this room was the awkward plug sockets and this one held my phone charger. My fingers snagged it and I tugged, trying to dislodge it but thwarted by the awkward angle. Just a little more aaaand-

"Who the fuck are you?"

I damn near shit myself. I whipped my head to look back over my shoulder. I knew that voice, Dan stood in the doorway of my room. Actually, Dan FILLED the doorway of my room. Holy crap I'd never really noticed the sheer size of the man. In my fantasy that had been erotic. Now, with him pissed it was just plain intimidating. On the plus side, the sudden jolt had dislodged the charger. Just beyond Dan, I could see Joe. Half a foot shorter than Dan (though still taller than me), his runner-thin body nearly disappeared behind-

Was Dan staring at my arse?

I suddenly realised how I was posed. Completely unintentionally, I had my arse facing the door and, bent double, was giving him an excellent view of my cheeks. I'd made it worse by just turning my head, completing the stance with a shocked, over the shoulder look. I'd bet money I looked like the opening shot of a porno.

"Excuse me?" I rolled to a sitting position before they got any ideas. Shit, I know those guys, before they got any more ideas.

"What do you mean excuse you?" Dan looked at me incredulously. "You're in our house, robbing our friends room. You have thirty seconds before I call the police on you."

Police huh? That'd be amusing. 'Name?' 'Pass. You can pick if you like.' 'Fingerprints in the system?' 'If only.' The thoughts had me smirking. Dan, of course, misread that and reached into his pocket.

"No. Dan. I'm not." Using his name got his attention. He blinked and almost took a step back. I pushed up to my feet and propped my hands onto my hips. "You are Dan, right? That's Joe lurking behind you. I'm Erik's cousin. He's sick, I just stopped by to grab some bits for him." I waved the phone charger in front of me, a talisman to prove my innocence. Dan's eyes narrowed.

"Erik doesn't have a cousin. He doesn't have anyone 'cept his African mum." Smart, testing my knowledge. Two can play that game.

"Nice try. First, Sara... Sarjita is Indian, not African. Second, she's a UK national, you damn nerfherder. Third. He has a cousin. Me. Stood right here in front of you. If I was robbing him, would I turn on the music and go for his phone charger?"

"Yeah. A cousin he had conveniently never mentioned." Joe decided to join the conversation "What's your name?"

"Katja Sandisson." What the fuck? Where the hell had Katja come from? I mean, I've never met a Katja before. At least, not so far as I know. I'm not even sure where I heard it. Though... it did sound Nordic, especially sharing my old surname too. Dan narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, Kat-yah-."

"Fuck sake, you English and your name butchering." I blustered at him, improvising on the spot. If in doubt, get aggressive. People on the defensive make mistakes and stop paying close attention. "Kat-EE-yah. Three syllables but if you're just going to butcher it, call me Kat."

He put up his hands defensively whilst Dan just shrugged. "Okay then Kat. You say Erik is sick, what's he got and how come he left the hospital?"

"Because," I snarled, drawing on the frustration that had been growing inside me, "he's got the same fucking condition that killed my mum!

"You want to know why I'm here? Fine!" I snatched up the shoulder bag and grabbed the first thing I could. "See this? It's a fucking thimble! You got any idea why a player like Erik owns one? It's the last thing his mum gave to him. Ever. She died that afternoon. He wants it with him so she's close when he... he..."

I couldn't bring myself to say 'dies'. Stupid, I know, but I felt that if I voiced it, then it'd be true. Erik would be gone to his friends. I'd have no chance to get my life back.

I turned away, busying my hands with the bag. My rant had worked, my peripheral vision picked up an uncomfortable, guilty glance between my housemates before I squeezed my eyes closed, willing them not to well up.

"Hey," Joe's voice was hesitant, "Kat. I'm sorry, we didn't mean to upset you. We're not used to finding strange women in Erik's room." I snorted. "...well, without Erik." Damn straight, I'd brought home many chicks in our years living together, no way was I going to let my legacy go unmentioned.

I fought the urge to slump my shoulders, to admit that hopelessness of being here. Of being in Erik's world. I'm not an introspective person. I don't care what makes me tick, I care about enjoying my life and hated this concoction of emotions threatening to unman - fuck's sake, fine - to unmake me. I knew if I didn't do something to take control, I was going to lose myself to them.

If I'd been Erik still, well, I'd never have had this issue. Ignoring that minor detail, if I'd still been me, then I would hit the gym, and I'd hit it hard. Weights, cycling, rowing, cross training, I'd hurl myself at each of them until I could barely stand and was euphoric on endorphins. You know, bludgeon your body so hard that thinking of anything no longer works.

Could I try that as Katya? Not really. At least, not without someone I trust as a spotter. I've lost muscle by the wagon load leaving my strength heavily limited to unknown extent. Beyond this and probably more importantly, my body has changed. No, for once I don't mean my tits and cunt. I mean my skeleton, notably my pelvis. It was bizarre just walking at first. You don't do that, then run a marathon next day and what I'd do would be close enough. No, this option was not available to me, not yet.

Which meant... you know what? Sod it. Option two is a go. I was going to get laid.

I let my shoulders fall and huffed a breath as my head flopped backwards. To Dan and Joe, I would look defeated by my anger and I planned to use that.

"Guys," how to play this. What would Katya... what do I want to be my style? I had only a few moments as I turned back to them. I could be coy, full of intrigue and smiles. Uh, how the fuck do you smile coyly? Well, doubt they'll let me disappear to practise for a while so bluntly it is.

"I want a distraction. I..." I glanced between them. Damn, what's a good way to start things? Walk over and start snogging? Grab a crotch? Both seemed intimidating as I looked up the men. I improvised, dropped the charger, grabbed the hem of my t shirt and pulled it over my head. It was a brazen act and I felt empowered. My nipples were hard before the top hit the carpet.

"I want to fuck."

They stared at me, glanced at each other and then looked at me again. A heat filled my cheeks that was nothing to do with arousal. I looked from Dan to Joe.

Silence stretched.

Fuuuuuuuck this was embarrassing. I had to fight the urge to fold my arms over my tits.

Dan began to speak. Joe and I seized it like a lifeline and gave him our full attention. "I, uh, well... with which of us?"

Comprehension didn't so much dawn as whacked me with a mallet. For years we'd spoken of getting a crack at a threesome and it had always, always had one guy, two girls. I'd just offered the opposite, a devil's threeway and they were worried about appearing gay.

I smirked and walked to them, the bounce of my naked tits drawing their eyes. I stopped with one either side of me and made a show of eyeing each. There was no debate in my mind who I wanted.

Dan still blocked the way. I stepped up to him, into his personal space and wrapped my arms about his neck. We drew closer and our lips met. The kiss was slow, our tongues mashed together laconically. It was my first ever kiss with a man and, well, it was alright I guess. Dan's stubble, while expected, wasn't exactly the most pleasant of additions and he was hesitant, rather than passionate. I guess the kiss also paled in comparison to my last. Kissing Jenny had years of adolescent fantasies leading up to it. Kissing Dan had a couple of hours and a single wank. Hardly a fair comparison.

I'd paid attention to my hearing and sure enough, heard the rustle of clothing that meant Joe was going to leave. I planted my foot on the wall and blocked his path. "Where are you going?" I turned from Dan, leaving my right hand to trail down his front whilst my left snared the fabric of Joe's top. I pulled him in close, pressing my lips to his as my hand squeezed Dan's crotch.

I could feel my skin warm as Joe and I kissed. Perhaps it was the lack of surprise or maybe he liked Katya taking charge, either he had a noticeably better technique than Dan. Speaking of, I can tell you that Dan dressed to the left, was enjoying himself and, to my joint annoyance and anticipation, I think he had a bigger cock than me.

Err, than Erik did. Had. Oops. Fuck this was confusing.

I'd already decided roll with it. Sod the mess in my head, it was time to lose myself in the moment, and that meant I had to get them on board. I pulled out of the snog, my other hand moving to squeeze Joe's cock. (Fuck, really? I had the smallest dick in the house? That's just humiliating.)

"Well guys." I moved my hands in unison as I stroked their cocks through their trousers. I hesitated, not because of any doubts but because of the words I was about to say. 'Fingercuffs' had been on my tongue, but that was something Erik would say. It implies a passivity on my part that I was really not aiming for. I was not here for their pleasure this afternoon. They were here for mine. I bought time with a comparative fondle. Lucky Joe, I think he was slightly bigger than Dan. Inspiration struck me at the site of my shelfs beyond the pair.

"I want a pair of bookends. You know, one in the front and one in the cunt. Are you willing to loan me your cocks?" I smirked, my eyes flitting between each in turn.

They shared an awkward, should-we/shouldn't-we glance that quickly turned to a mutual grin. How often does one find a hot, horny blond at home asking for it? I unbuckled my jeans, shoved them to the floor and, kicking off my shoes, pulled of both them and my socks. They were still grinning at me. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my knickers

"Boys, if you're not ready in ten seconds I will kick you out and finger fuck myself without you." That got the pair tossing the clothes about the room in their haste to fuck me.

That thought gave me a warm shiver of anticipated lust and I could feel a slickness between my legs. I was grateful for that, I'd once fucked a girl who had dryness issues and didn't want to have to lube up cock and cunt first like I had back then. It didn't kill the mood but it certainly hampered the event.

I moved to my bedside table, opened the drawer and grabbed out a condom.

"Wait, Erik told you where to find his johnnies?" Dan's face had clouded with confused suspicion. Shit. He was right, I had moved like this was my room, not my supposed-cousins and he had called me on it. I opened my mouth, trusting to Katja to spin a lie.