Macster - The Missing Links

Murray had a gorgeous wife. She was tall--although not as tall as Tony--blonde and blue-eyed, with the most beautiful skin he'd ever seen on a woman. Murray used to be jealous of any other man even looking at his wife, but now he was more concerned with the growing beer problem in the kitchen. He kept glancing in that direction, even as he guided his wife to Tony's side.

The other members of Murray's family, who had started arriving shortly after his third wish, didn't seem to notice his looks at Murray's wife either, and there were at least eight of them in the room. Strange for a bunch of little tattlers.

Tony was truly enjoying this. All except for the butt-kissing part. Every time he turned around, another member of Murray's family was reaching for his ass. He had to shoo them away like flies. One particularly persistent guy, a rabbity-looking fellow, wouldn't take no for an answer; he must have already been a brown-noser before the wish.

"Hey now, would you stop it?" he snapped. "You've already kissed me three times today!"

"Let me kiss you again, Master," the annoying fellow whined.

"No! Go clean something! This is getting ridiculous..." Tony breathed a sigh of relief as the brown-noser finally wandered away, then turned back to Murray.

"Master!" Murray said eagerly. "Oh, wonderful Master...my wife has a surprise for you..."

Murray's wife stood in front of him, and Tony caressed her cheek, brushing back her hair. "Oh really...?" He grinned. Now this was more like it. "Well, I'll take care of her, you go get me another beer."

"Yes, Master." Murray trundled off.

"It's my husband's Rolex oyster," Murray's wife said, eyes shining with devotion as she held out the heavy timepiece. "Solid gold."

Tony frowned doubtfully as he examined it, though inwardly he was overflowing with glee. "You sure it's not one of those cheap imitations?"

The woman looked scandalized by this suggestion. "Oh no, Master!" Her slender shoulders heaved with emotion under the touch of his hands. "I bought it for my husband's fortieth birthday, but you must have it! All our possessions are yours now..." Her glazed eyes danced with the same eagerness to please as her lips.

All their possessions? He swallowed and wondered how much he could do to this woman without incurring Murray's wrath.

He wondered how much he could do to this woman and not lose his own self-respect.

The vacuum cleaner problem was getting out of hand. The bag was five times its normal size, and the vacuum was belching black smoke. Yet it went blithely on, the rapid, impish voice inside it still nattering on about the need to clean as it tried to pull the curtains down from the rods.

"Give it a rest, will you?" Tony shouted at the vacuum cleaner. It ignored him.

The Murrays were gathered around him again, and there were even more of them now, at least twenty or thirty people, all bowing and scraping, all chanting "Master" and trying to apply their lips to his ass. Several of them, including Murray's wife, were cleaning his clothes as he wore them and grooming his hair with intense concentration, disturbingly reminiscent of social gorillas. Where had they all come from?

"Murray, this is ridiculous! No, I want everyone out of here--except your wife." Tony clutched the blonde possessively. "I never knew you had so many relatives!"

"Of course, Master." Murray stepped in front of the rabbity brown-noser, shoving him firmly away. "You can go," he ordered, pointing to the door, chin lifted imperiously. He seemed proud to serve Tony in this capacity.

"Be with you in a moment, Murray," the brown-noser replied, falling to his knees and crawling toward Tony. "Just got to pucker up to the Master..."

Tony glared at him. "No! Don't pucker up..." The ripping of the curtains from the rods made him whirl. "Cut it out!" Too many things were happening. He rushed to the vacuum's side and tried wrenching it away, to no avail. Pulling on the curtains made no difference, and almost cost him his hand. He whacked at it with an old baseball bat, but that only seemed to make the vacuum cleaner more determined. It growled and tore at the curtains like a mad dog, while the voice inside became indignant and furious.

Tony whacked at it again and again until it wheezed, burped some more black smoke, caught fire, and stopped, the voice fading with a strangled cry.

Silence. Merciful silence.

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