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Introduction:

First story is 1. THE RUNAWAY (Taxi Driver 1) and the second is 2. THE WARD. These are two of my very best stories.
STORIES:

1. The Runaway (Taxi Driver 1)

2. The Ward

NOTES: I consider this the best story that I have ever written. It opens the door to many who wonder about how taxi driving is done. This story is one of imagination, but it has its roots in real events in my life as a driver. In its initial runs on this board, it got a rather fine rating and a lot of reads, for one of my stories. 20,000 plus.



RUNAWAY:

“Car 69, to East Anglia area.”

“Check.”

The driver checks his page (TEXT MESSAGE): 5627 East Woodlynn Drive; young girl, transport to DOLLAR-SAVE-ON store, cash pay, xxx-yyy-pppp.

Driver checks off ‘Page Received’ button on his pager.

Since he is not familiar with this road, he uses his GPS system to locate it. This time, as usual, it directs him directly to the address even giving him a picture of the gate and house.

The house, er…mansion, is fairly new. The paved driveway looks like it was poured yesterday. The shrubs and bushes are obviously recently planted. The house is a thinly disguised copy of a Southern mansion. It is a handsome house none-the-less.

As he pulls up to the front door, which is under a canopy leading to the other half of the circle drive right back out to the unattended guard gate, a young girl bolts out of the door and signals for them to hurry up and leave. He first verifies that it is his assigned fair, gets a $40 deposit (because of the distance travelled for the pickup) and then moves quickly to leave the premises. She sits in the back seat and turns her head to obscure her face and any expression on it.

He checks off the “Picked-Up,” button on his pager.

She didn’t need to have a sign on her that said, RUNAWAY. Her clothes and manner gave it all away. The worn tennies, bland washed out socks, the baggy fatigue pants, the grey oversized hoodie and grey satchel make the costume complete. While paying attention to the road, he catches her checking him out a couple of times through his reflection in the rearview mirror. When he looks back at her through the same mirror, she quickly turns her head away.

Since it will be nearly a 14 mile drive, he tries to engage her in some kind of conversation. It is his way to enjoy his job, and also to practice his amateur psychoanalyzing prowess and story-telling abilities. He tells the same stories over and over again, honing them to some kind of near perfection. He often gets a higher tip because of them, but the real reason he tells them is that he loves to do so.

“Sure is a pretty day.”

No answer or reaction. (Strike One.)

After a couple of minutes, “Hope that you are OK.”

Still no answer. (Strike Two.)

After a few more minutes, “Are you OK, young lady?”

She looked at him for a minute and then finally said, “I am JUST FINE!”

“O O O O O K A A A E A Y,” he responded in an attempt at humor.

She seemed a little more relaxed in the back seat, then.

When they came to the destination, he took out an index card and wrote on it, Marcus, his phone number and under that, “I can help!” He offered her the change, but she said to keep it, accepted the card, looked at it, slipped it into her pocket and then got out of the cab to meet her new world. He checked in with dispatch and then went off to have his lunch at his home. He thought about leaving her in that neighborhood, it was very ‘edgy,’ but it was her own business. He expected to see her photos on telephone poles before too long.

Over the next two days he saw her walking on the street, alone and evidently having found a way to support herself. The weather was turning colder, so he supposed that he would hear from her soon, if at all. A lot of the girls on the street supported themselves by giving BJ’s. The ones that rented their pussies out made more, but that is a very dangerous way to finance a life. Diseases, pimps, threatening ‘johns’ and the police were hard to avoid. Well, two days on the street. So far, so good. BJ’s were quick to give and easy to conceal. No trouble finding ‘johns,” either. They came to look for the girls.

That night, he got a phone call from her. She asked to meet him at the coffee shop just around the corner from where he had dropped her off. He said, “Fine,” and drove over to meet her in his Suburban. He saw her in a back booth and so moved back to join her. He sat directly across from her and asked if he could get her something to eat. She started to put up an, “I can do for myself,” attitude; but reconsidered and said. “Yes,” in a little girl’s voice. He ordered for her, with a piece of pie for himself as he had already dined at home.

As they waited for her dinner, she looked up at him for the first time that he actually got a view of her face. She was ordinary pretty and apparently blond. She then looked down and it appeared that she was gathering her thoughts to talk with him.

“I almost threw the card you gave me away, but I decided on a whim to keep it. It is getting very cold out and I don’t have a place to flop tonight, and was wondering if I could stay on the couch at your place tonight so that I can find a more permanent place tomorrow?” This was said in a very low voice and a very young one.

After seeing her face, he guessed her to be about 16 years old. She would not last long on the streets, he guessed. There are just too many of them to help, much. It is like herding a cat, to get them to accept assistance that will really help. If a person gives them money, it almost always ends up in their arms. He was convinced that the only way to really help them was to respect their need for in-dependence and negotiate with them on their own level.

“OK, you can stay the night. The dinner is on me. I have only one bed and no one ever sleeps on my couch, unless they are under me. If you stay over, I will not touch you tonight. Beyond tonight, we can discuss when you are warmer and rested.”

She looked up at him with hurt eyes and asked, “Do you always talk to ladies in that way?”

He looked at her for a few moments and said, “You are no lady, little girl. And I treat everyone fairly. But, I don’t allow myself to be hurt or used beyond my capacity to easily survive it. I have learned many of the hard lessons, already; that you will have to learn to survive on the streets.”

At that time her meal came, along with his pie, Marion berry with vanilla ice cream on it. His favorite. They settled down to eat and think. It gave her time to digest what he had said and the implications of it. She looked up at him, this time face to face and not as a reflected image in a rear view mirror. What she saw was a 38 year old guy, with light brown hair and eyes of the same color. So light that they sometimes look a bit green. His face had a mustache and trimmed Van Dyke beard. He wore much more professional attire than most of his fellow drivers, a pressed business shirt, no tie, light gray jacket and blue slacks, with black athletic shoes. His eyes and face looked wiser than his age should allow. The kind of wisdom that came from hard experiences and not just ‘book learnin.’

She decided to give it a chance for the night. The worst that he might do is rape her. She had already been through that with her step-dad. She could survive that. No need to fight it, just lay back and pretend to enjoy it and then flush herself out afterward. A small price to pay to have a place to stay, actually. And he seemed to be some kind of honorable. Maybe he might even ask her first before doing it!! Well, he could kill her. But, no. He didn’t seem to be the type. She wondered if the girls that met Ted Bundy thought the same about him. She smiled to herself over that thought.

He caught the slight smile and decided that it meant, “Yes.” No need belaboring the issue, so he let them finish their food and prepare to leave. He paid with a card. She noticed and assumed that he kept little cash on him. Smart in this neighborhood. They got into his S.U.V. and drove to his apartment.

She noticed that it was in a sturdy and well maintained condo village. No gate, though. It was on the third floor and with no elevator. That would certainly discourage unwelcome guests, she thought. And only three other doors on his landing, so few interactions with neighbors, another plus. When he opened the door, she saw a very neat and clean apartment, with a minimum of furnishings, but evidently everything that he needed. He did have a separate bedroom from his own. She wondered how she might negotiate its usage. He didn’t mention it previously and it was full of a very large computer desk and exercise equipment. Didn’t look like anywhere else to put them in the apartment, so that bedroom was probably off limits to her.

The place was dimly lit, but comfortably warm. There was a modest sized flat screen T.V. A radio on the lone bookcase. A very comfortable looking overstuffed rocking chair and a loveseat in the living room. The dining room had a solid looking dining room table and two chairs. The kitchen looked fully equipped. She would get to check out the master bedroom, when they went to bed, she surmised.

He directed her to the chair and took a place on the couch facing her. He said that he had some things to discuss with her.

“You are welcome to come and stay here anytime you want to do so. But, I will want to have you ‘sleep’ with me on the first of each three days that you do so. That means intimacy, you know. And cooperative at that. Tonight is a free ride for you to get to know me and for you to determine whether I am worth the risk to be trusted. You can take a shower, and I expect you to go to bed at the same time as me, even though you will not be required to share your body with me tonight. Won’t turn it down if offered, though! (Said with a very wry smile. Small smile from her.)

A few rules, though. No one else is to come into this apartment. No drugs are to be sold or ordered here. Anything comes up missing and you lose your rights to come here. You are to tell no one about this place. Do not make a nuisance of yourself to the neighbors. If they ask about you, you are my cousin visiting from out of town. Don’t say anything else about it. I will not give you a key until I get to the point that I trust you to follow my rules and that you will keep our bargain.

You can have your mail delivered to a post office box that I will give you the address of. You can do your wash here, eat here, shower here and sleep here regularly if you want, per the agreement. I don’t watch the T.V. much, so you can choose what you want to watch when you are here, just not loud enough to bother my neighbors.

I will ask you no questions about what goes on outside that door, nor about your past. But, I will listen to whatever you share about it and tell no one without your permission. If you establish a continuing intimate relationship with me, I will share that with no one else as long as it lasts. I do not use condoms, so that then should factor into your decision. However, I have no diseases at all.

Just a few thoughts on your survival on the streets: don’t shoplift, do drug running or any other kind of petty theft. Stay away from the ‘hoodies.’ They may seem friendly, but it is only to control their turf and to soften you up to be recruited by them for drug running or prostitution. Don’t trust the girls out there, ever either. They will sell your pussy to the highest bidder to get a more prominent position with their pimp and more money for their habits. In fact don’t trust anyone, not even me. Well, you can make up your mind on how much you might trust me. Try to stick to BJ’s and charge $40 for covered and $60 for uncovered. Use a good mouth wash in between. Even the girls and ‘hoodies’ will enforce the charges. Don’t ever allow your pussy to be used for less than $100. Find a place to stow your satchel and carry no more than $5 on you at any time. And never go on boats with any of the guys you will meet while on the street. They would throw you over board if you don’t do whatever they want you to do. No pangs of conscience, either.”

“I’ll think this over, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course. But, now you look like you could use a shower. There is a red towel on the rack for you. Use any of the soaps and shampoos that you want. If you need any female supplies, they are under the sink.”

“Oh, and by the way, don’t wear the same get-up each day. Try to wear something that doesn’t advertise that you are a runaway and a BJ specialist. I can take you to Value Village tomorrow, if you like.”

“OK.”

After a few minutes he heard it. “Uh Marcus, can you show me how to turn the shower on?”

He just loved it. If he could he would have kissed the person, even if he was a guy who invented his shower hardware. It took him three days to figure it out himself when he moved in. Even women who have a gene for operating small equipment are mystified by it. And helping them gives him the perfect opportunity to scan their feminine hides, all in the name of helping them. Perfect! So he did so.

He came away with the impression, that she was about 5’6”, was slim, with small tits, a small bushy love patch and little concern about him seeing her naked body. Oh well, he was definitely going to keep his promise, this time.

When she came out, it was very late and he had a dental appointment in the morning. He let her know that she would have to skedaddle when he left, but if she was ready early enough, he would drop her off downtown. They would have to go shopping another time. She had used the hair-dryer, so was ready to go to bed. When we got in there, he told her that she could wear a pair of his boxer shorts and a T-shirt for bed. She got them out and put them on, with him admiring the rear-end assembly that she showed him when she dropped the towel. They removed the extra comforter that he usually would sleep on and got under the covers, like he only did when he had a female to share his bed with.

They settled down and she rolled over and slightly curled her legs while facing away from him. He settled down as close to the opposite side of the bed that he could, and immediately fell asleep.

When the clock awoke him in the morning, she was already up and dressed. In a different combination of attire than he had seen before. Damn, she could listen to advice. A good sign. She had made coffee and helped herself to some cereal that had been left by a previous female overnighter. No problem to him. He doesn’t drink coffee, as he explained to her, so as not to hurt her feelings. But, he did help himself to his own cereal. He got dressed in record time and got her downtown to her territory to meet the morning rush. She said that she would call him on her ‘cell’ or just show up if she wanted to use his quarters for a safety hideaway. If she showed up, she would have accepted his requirements, she notified him. He nodded and she went on her way.

He didn’t hear from her for another four days. He knew better than to worry about her. He could do nothing until she called him. And she would deeply be offended if he interfered with her activities. He would hear when she was ready. Or not!

Then she showed up at his door and asked to stay the night again. He looked at her and let her in. She was somewhat thinner. If that was possible. But, other than that didn’t look that bad. She immediately took off all her clothes and put on the bathrobe that he left hanging in the bedroom, in that order. She then emptied out her satchel of its supply of dirty clothes and loaded it all into his washing machine. He added enough of his own clothes to make a full load. He added, “I think that we will be able to tell each other’s things apart when they are done.” He got a smile from her with that.

When they were clean and dry, he folded them for her as she was in the tub soaking the cold out of her body. He loves to fold women’s clothes, especially their panties. It must say something really weird about him. But, he can live with himself, just fine. And besides the view from the table into the bathroom tub was truly inspiring. She thanked him warmly for the effort when she was dry herself, after toweling off. She reached into the satchel and removed a pretty bit of lace and bows and put it on her. It was deeply red with black trimming. It barely covered everything and made you think of it all, the way it was made.

They were both tired, but decided to cuddle and watch some T.V. first. She selected a romantic movie for them to watch together and cuddled right up to him with her arm around his neck and the other laying on his lap. Nothing overt, yet. She didn’t want anything to drink or eat, so he relaxed for a bit more and then couldn’t help himself, he turned his head and kissed her right on her lips. She opened her mouth to accept his tongue and dueled him with hers. Her hands were now busy on his resting member, and his hands moved to her breasts.

They soon moved towards the main event, with him all enthusiastic about bonding his member with her convenient orifice. Not much of a response from her, but she did smile and kiss him repeatedly with at least feigned interest. She then moved the afghan that they were laying under, used her hands to lift him up to a standing position and then laid back on the loveseat with her legs open to his view and interest. As it was apparent that she wanted to move on right away, he entered her and came after about ten minutes. It was apparent that she did get somewhat excited, but when he came she immediately moved to the bathroom and shut the door.

When she came out, she took him by the hand and led them to his bed. She laid him down, tucked him in and snuggled her head up to his and then kissed him goodnight. Before they went asleep, she rolled over and looked him in the eye and said, “Thank You Marcus for letting me in tonight. Now go to sleep, lover.”

The next morning she told him about a client, an older man who had insistently haggled with her over the contribution. He only wanted to give her $40 for an uncovered BJ, but she held out for the usual price of $60. When he got more than a little pushy about it, one of the local ‘hoodies’ came over and told him to fork it over or leave the area. A couple of the other girls working the street shouted agreement with her and him. When the guy got a bit argumentative and pushy to him, several of the ‘hoodies’ associates moved in and the guy decided to move along.

The ‘hoodie’ told her that he would help her anytime she needed it. She thanked him and moved on herself, so as not to become entangled with him and his ‘friends.’ The girls laughed at her as she passed them by.

Marcus saw her several times over the next few months. She would usually stay for at least three days each time. Evidently wanted to get her pussy’s worth. But, she started to look really ragged each time she came to stay. And bruising started to appear on intimate areas of her body. She was friendly to him and very affectionate when it came to be her ‘pay-it-up’ night. She even came a few times, much to her and his delight. But, there were very few smiles, now.

She disappeared from his life for over a month. He saw nothing of her on the streets and none of his street acquaintances could shed any light on her whereabouts, or perhaps they knew but were too secretive to tell him.

Then one night he got a cell call from her after he was asleep, urgently asking him to rescue her from some guys near the YMCA. He threw on some clothes and slippers and broke several speed limits to get there. She was huddled in an entryway and several really rancid looking guys were surrounding her. He pulled up and hit the door locks. She saw him and rushed to the Suburban and locked the door behind her. They slapped the side of his vehicle with their open hands as he drove off. She huddled in the seat. He had to remind her to put on her seat belt, which she slowly did.

After a bit, she looked up and said, “Thank you Marcus for coming to get me.”

He replied, “It is alright, Jazzmine. I said that I would. Is there somewhere that you want to be?”

“Just take me home, I want to be with a friend tonight.” Said with a lonely sounding voice.

So they arrived at his place and he helped her up the stairs to his front door. He opened the door and carried her inside. He heated up some of the coffee that was left over from her previous visit, hoping all the time that it wouldn’t poison her. Evidently not, because she survived it. While she laid on the couch, he poured a full hot tub for her and then carried her to the bubble bath infused water. He helped her off with her clothing and laid her gently into the water. He noticed the bruising on her arms and shoulders and ‘oh no!’ the tell-tale tracks on the inside of her arms. She saw the fear in his eyes. She said nothing at that time, just soaking up the heat of the water and the concern in his face.

When the water started to get colder, he helped her up and tenderly dried her off, all the time wishing that he could hold her forever and kill off all of the ‘dragons’ in her mind and her fear-filled life. No such luck, he knew. Just do what he could for her, when he could. He guessed that she had basically given up on life, and was trying to die by the needle to kill the pain of it. She was probably fucking filthy guys now to get the money for her habit. With the number of marks on her arms, she was probably doing at least four times a day. At this rate it wouldn’t take long for her to hit bottom. And this wasn’t bottom, it would get worse, very much worse he knew.

When she was dry and into another pair of his boxers and T shirt, she asked for a few minutes at his dinner table. She reached into her pockets and pulled out her stuff in a zip lock bag. Then she asked to borrow a tablespoon, a Q tip, a lighter and a cell phone charger cord. She heated up the stuff in a little water in the spoon, set the Q tip into the mixture and then drew the brown liquid through the Q tip up into the syringe that she had had hidden on herself. She used the cord around her upper arm to make her veins stand out and then selected a spot, cleared the syringe of any air and then injected herself. It was so very cleanly done. And so horribly sad to see. His heart just sank at the sight of it.

She was very high for about 15 minutes and then said, “Marcus, please take me to bed and make love to me. I need to have a friend inside me tonight!”

He carried her to bed and held her in his arms. When they were about to go to sleep, she pulled him over on to her, kissed him very lightly and then lowered her shorts and without any foreplay inserted his penis into her pussy. He went in as deep as he could right away and then she looked up at him and smiled the biggest smile that he had ever seen on her. She used her hands to encourage him to pump in and out of her. She wiggled her hips and looked to be genuinely heated up. He was so inflamed that he didn’t even get to last long enough for her to cum. But, he did cum and she held him against her afterward and whispered in his ear, “Marcus, you are wonderful to me.” Then she rolled him off of her and immediately fell asleep.

When he woke up in the morning, this time she was already gone. He had to lock the door, because it couldn’t be locked from outside without a key. There was an empty cereal bowl with a napkin under it. It had a small heart drawn on it, with XOXO. He got a little bit of a heart-pull at that.

Two days later, he saw her downtown and invited her to have a coffee with him. She wasn’t busy and so joined him. When they were seated, he let her know that she could stay with him from then on. He would try to be very reasonable about the arrangement. He could afford to support her, he mentioned.

She smiled and said that that was very sweet of him to offer. She would think about it, but she had some things to work out first. Besides, if she did then, it would open him to legal action in regard to her drug taking if she was identified as staying with him in the short run. But, she said that she would probably be staying with him more often in the future, since other things were not working out for her. Besides, she said that she felt much safer with him. She comforted him with the conviction that she was going to ditch the drugs for him. And then she reminded him that she had two free days coming, at least free from his stated need. Unless of course, she wanted her needs filled. She laughed out loud as she left to make her rounds. He left feeling good about things.

The next morning he heard a report on the radio about a runaway girl being found dead in a dumpster not far from the YMCA. They identified her by a name that he didn’t recognize. But, he had never known Jazzmine’s real name anyway. He drove downtown all around, up and down the alleys and streets. She was no-where to be seen. He couldn’t bear to watch T.V. to see her picture and know for sure. He wanted the illusion that she was OK, and would be joining him at his apartment for a tender night soon.

But, he knew! And as the nights came and went with no call from her, it finally sank in. And he cried and cried every waking minute for days.

And his heart was deathlike in pain for a very long time.

NOTE: I thought up this story to reflect what women often have to do to survive in this demanding world. Too often it involves involuntary sex. So, I decided to investigate a situation of a young girl from Africa who was desperate to escape the danger there and what she would do to facilitate that. I also wanted to look into the mind of a man, who was going to use her, but not in a destructive way.

It also was very well rated and had over 20,000 reads.

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THE WARD:

NOTE: This story got a very favorable welcome on this site and had a reading in the 20,000 range which is exceptional for one of my creations herw.

Charles Bradstock approaches the offices of Armstrong & Williams Investigators, to get the report that he needed for a very important pending decision. As he enters the door and approaches the receptionist, he ponders the many questions in his mind. Hopefully they all or at least the most important ones will be answered during this meeting. He is invited to seat himself for a few moments as he is early. This gives himself the time to organize his thoughts, and to worry about what he has forgotten.

Finally he is moved into the office of the main investigator. As he seats himself, the agent opens the file and briefly scans if to focus on this particular case. Then he looks up to the man in front of him and asks if there are any preliminary questions. Charles says ‘no,’ that he will wait to see what they have come up with before even considering another question.

So the agent begins, “Our agents in Ethiopia have sent this report on Makela Tulu, of whom you had requested with much in-depth information.” Under cover of the medical staff at the orphanage that she is staying at in anticipation of an imminent adoption, they have interviewed her and gathered samples to be tested to determine her state of health. They understand that as an attractive medium brown and slim fourteen year old that she was near the apex of her adoptability. A lot of it depended on her state of health. No one in the developed lands wanted to adopt anyone with AIDS. Cruel but true. And some of the people who want to adopt these girls, have very dark purposes in mind for them. So their virginity is another issue. The agent isn’t going to judge the plans of his client, of course. But, he would make sure that he would get all of the information that he had asked for, plus, just in case.

He continued, “She has been found to be quite intelligent, though under-educated for her age. She has no active diseases. She is a virgin. Her DNA indicates that though she has Native Hawaiian genes, she is not likely to become grossly overweight. At 5’7”, she is relatively tall for her age. Her weight at 135 lbs, is appropriate for her build. She is a fine ‘soccer’ player. She tends to be cooperative around the house and school. She has all of her teeth. She is likely to become a very beautiful lady at adulthood, with modest sized breasts. She is related to a famous Ethiopian long distance runner. Her mother died when she was caught in a ‘fire fight’ just outside of her village. Her Dad disappeared five years ago. Her native language is Amharic, but she speaks a smattering of English. She has demonstrated no musical ability as of yet. She is fearful of her future. Her people tend to be quite moral. There is a mixture of Christian and Moslem influences in her religious background.

Our conclusion over this is that she will do anything to succeed with staying with you and never complain about anything as long as she can. She will make someone an excellent wife someday and be able to bear several children. Under the circumstance that you could provide, she has a chance at a very successful life.

Any questions?”

“No, sir. I believe that you have covered all of the points that I was interested in, plus several that I hadn’t even thought of. Thank you and the check will be in the mail.”

“Thank you sir, for letting us serve your needs. Please consider us if any further work will need to be done.”

“I will consider that, if it is needed,” Charles concluded as he moved to leave the office.

Two days later, Charles finds himself in the office of the local Social Services Office, which oversees the handling of these cases by the private administrative company handling the transfer of the girl to the care of Charles.

A steely eyed middle-age lady looks at him over her bifocal glasses that repeatedly slip down her nose. She reaches up and adjusts them again. She is deeply suspicious of a single man adopting a fourteen year old girl from a foreign country. Heck she would be suspicious even if it was a local fourteen year old girl. These sleaze ball guys, who want what is obvious from hopeful girls. Ones who have few options and therefore are very vulnerable to manipulation. Let’s see about this one.

“Mr. Bradstock, why do you want to adopt a fourteen year old girl from another country?”

“First of all, you can call me Charles. And to answer your question, to give her a chance at reaching her full potential in life.” Said in a friendly manner.

“About the name, I think not Mr. Bradstock. We have done a background check on you. Not as inclusive as the one you had done on her, though. What was the purpose of that?”

“To see if she would be able to benefit by the considerable time and effort that we are going to invest in her. There are many agencies to help these children. And a lot of failures, too. Even though, I am affluent, I can’t help all of the children that need it. So, I am determined to help ones that will benefit the most by my effort.”

“Why don’t you adopt a boy, instead?”

“Personal choice, nothing else.”

“Would you like to change that choice, now?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“When could you accept custody of her?”

“We are ready right now, ma’am.”

“Well Mr. Bradstock, I have to let you know that I have several concerns about this motion. But, there are no immediate reasons to deny it. We will be doing follow ups over this to see how she is doing. There will be no warning as to when they will come. Do you have any questions?”

“Yes, may I speak privately with Makela before the final approval comes in over this?”

“And what is the purpose of that?”

“To determine whether she would be happy with me. At least get her initial impression.”

“Ok, that is not all that unusual. I will have her brought out to the park just outside this building and you two can walk around within our sight and compare impressions about each other.”

“Excuse me, ma’am. But, you don’t like me do you?”

“Mr. Bradstock, I see guys like you every day. And I can almost read in their faces the unpleasant things that they have in mind.” But, with a slightly more conciliatory tone, “I do hope that you are for real Mr. Bradstock, though. These young ones have little hope without the real honest efforts of people like you.”

Soon after, Charles is sitting on a concrete bench that is in the park, waiting to talk with Makela. He sees a shy acting slim young girl approach him, coming up the walkway towards him. She walks right up to him and says, “I am Makela. Are you Mr. Bradstock?”

“Yes, I am. And nice to meet you. Would you like to sit here on the bench next to me, so we can talk?”

She looks at him briefly, and then sits down about five feet from him.

“Makela, I want you to know that I wish you well, whatever happens here. But, I also want you to get to know a little about me, to help you decide if you would like to come and live with me.

I am not rich, but I do have considerable resources. I am interested in seeing how far you can go in life, and can afford to help you go as far as your effort will take you. What would you like to do with your life?”

In shy but firm words Makela says, “I would like to become a doctor and return to my home someday and help the people there.”

“A noble calling, indeed! But, you probably better have your children first, though. Unless it becomes very much more peaceful there.”

“By the way, do you understand what I am saying?”

“Yes, pretty much. My father was Hawaiian and taught me English, while my mom taught me Amharic.”

“That is good, Makela. It will help you to get on track here ever so much faster. Makela, what do you expect will be needed for you to do to succeed here?”

She looked up at him very earnestly and said, “I will have to work very hard in my lessons. I will have to be honest. I will have to help around the house. And I will have to make love to you!”

“Where did you get that last idea, Makela?”

“While I have been here until I could meet you, I have been online and talking to a number of the other girls who have come here from my country. They say that the ‘do-gooders’ mean well, but give up too soon, when things get difficult. And the monster’s here are really bad. But, they also tell me that a gentle and loving man, who wants us as his lover, is likely to keep us till we are adults and can fend for ourselves. And that they tend to treat us very well. I want to stay here very badly. It would mean my death to go back to my country. And I am afraid of getting one of the ‘do-gooders’ or monsters here. I want to be with you. I sense that you will treat me very well, Mr. Bradstock. I will do anything you want to keep me with you!”

“Well Makela, you will never have to do anything of that nature against your will, I promise you. And I should let you know that I am bringing you into my household as a ‘ward’ which is more than a guest and less of a daughter. When we have been together for a while, a decision will be made as to what direction will be taken then.”

“I see. You want to keep the option open to have me as a wife someday, then?”

“I hadn’t thought of that, actually. But, you are right that that option would be much easier to move on to, if you are not my adoptive daughter.”

“Ok, Makela. As far as I am concerned I would like to take you home to give all of this a chance.”

“If you take me home with you, Mr. Bradstock, there will be no ‘chance.’ It will be, I will make sure of it.”

He nodded to her and excused her to go back to her handlers.

He then nodded to the office window, to where he knew that the counselor was watching them. She wasn’t a bit embarrassed that he knew. Actually, he gained considerable credibility in her eyes for his knowing so.

When she was guided back into her office, the counselor let her sit for a few minutes to gather her thoughts together. And then asked Makela, “What do you think of him?”

“I think that I will be very happy with him. He is very proper, and polite. He was very positive about things between us. There was no mention of anything improper by him. (The counselor knew what actually had been said through her long distance monitoring equipment, but there was no benefit in divulging that to Makela.) I think that he is a good man.”

Here is where the counselor has a crucial decision to make. She was absolutely sure that there would develop a sexual relationship between these two. It was illegal and unethical, too. But, this girl would have few other or better opportunities. None, that the counselor knew of. And as she read the man, she got the sense that he would treat her very well, in any regard. So, despite her misgivings, she decided to approve this move. She would check up on it at the one week, one month and one year intervals, and send a seasoned agent to accompany the girl to the home to check it out.

“OK, Makela. I am approving this adoption. Can I count on you being forthcoming about any abuses that you run into there?”

“I will do everything I can to make this work out! I will tell nothing on the Mr., unless I am violently abused or I think that my life is in danger. You have given me a card with your number on it. If that happens, I will call you. But, not under any other circumstances!”

“I understand, Makela. And Godspeed, my dear young girl.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

As Makela leaves the office to prepare to be picked up the next day, the counselor thinks, “Well one down, only 67 more cases to try to find some kind of reasonable eventuality for.”

The next day, Charles arrived to pick up Makela in the family ‘town car’ driven by Martin, the household butler, driver, handy-man etc. Makela was escorted to the car by a young man in a casual suit. Charles informed him that he was welcome to ride in the car with them and that Martin would deliver him afterwards to anywhere he needed to go. Gas being the price it is, the young man, David, decided to take them up on it.

As they drove through the city, Makela’s eyes repeatedly got big at all of the sights to see. And she was stunned when she got to Charles’ house. “He isn’t rich?” She thought. “Then what is rich in this strange land?” She mused. They exited the car and the three of them moved up to the house, where Mrs. Watson, the hostess, chef and housekeeper greeted them at the front door. David was preoccupied with taking his notes. Live-in housekeeper and butler, he noted. And his further assumptions were true, also.

He asked David, what he needed to see and know to expedite his examination of the accommodations. And after getting that information, he consigned him to Mrs. Watson’s care after they would together show Makela her new bed-room. It was on the third floor. Up the stairs they went. There was no elevator in the house, despite the three stories, plus a basement. Down the end of the hallway they went and then opened a very sturdy door to a sizeable bed-room, with a very large window. It looked out on to a very small garden below and out to the horizon above with a distant view of the bay. It was dark, despite the window, until the lamp beside the bed was turned on. Then they could see the extent of the room, with its large four-poster bed, night stands on both sides, a large dresser, a couch, a desk with lamp and computer monitor. There was a full bathroom attached inside of the room. And a whole wall of bookcases.

Without being asked, he mentioned that this had been his room, when he was growing up. Also, that the reason that there was no elevator was that his mother didn’t want them to all get soft from using it. This was despite the fact that they could easily have afforded it and that when the building was constructed, there had been a shaft left to accommodate it. It was sealed up, he noted.

He invited Makela to put her things down and to accommodate herself to the room and then he would be back. After he left, he left David to Mrs. Watson’s charge and moved up to his private office. It had a very thick steel door and double locks. No one was allowed uninvited into it. He went directly to the monitor hidden behind a picture and turned it on. He could see that all was well, so he turned it off. He sent off a couple of faxes, and then went to check on how things were first with David and then with Makela.

David had filled out all of the blanks on his check off sheet, and included very favorable comments in the ‘comment’s section.’ He was very satisfied by the circumstances here. Wished he could live here, too. Didn’t think that his wife would approve though. Unless she was invited too, he mused. So, Charles con-signed him to the care of Martin and went back to talk with Makela.

As he approached the room, he knocked on the door, even though it was already halfway open. Makela, came to the door and looked up to him. Then they turned and sat on the couch at his invitation. He let her get used to his presence and then started in talking with her.

“Makela, do you think that you could be happy here?”

“Mr. Bradstock, I think that I have died and gone to heaven! A combination of the Muslim one and the Christian one. I don’t know how I deserve all of this. There are so many back home that have nothing.”

“Makela, none of us deserve any of the good that comes to us. But, we should use it to better ourselves and eventually when we can to help others. I know that I don’t deserve this all. I was born into it. But, I don’t feel guilty about it, either. I just try to do the most honorable things that I can do with it. And no need for you to feel any guilt either. Sometimes, like Esther in the Bible, a person is delivered into a situation that may bless many others down the road.”

“Mr. Bradstock, you are so positive about things and so polite. I think that I will come to love you very much. And, I am very glad to be here.”

“Don’t be fooled by politeness, young lady. It can be the cover for great villainy. But, it does make the atmosphere between people much easier to endure. And politeness is required in our house. Mrs. Watson, will help you to know all of the manners that are required here. She will be patient with you, too. But, the main one for now, is that we all speak very softly and civilly throughout the house. When you are alone in your room with the door shut, you may let it out. And if you are invited into my personal office in this home, you may speak openly there. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do, Mr. Bradstock.”

“Also, tomorrow, Mrs. Watson will take you downtown and buy you all of the clothes that will be needed to start your life here. All that I will involve myself in that, will be to help you out later to pick out a couple of evening outfits for when we go out or go to parties.

I plan on next Monday, that we will get you enrolled in school here. I will have a tutor to attend with you for your first couple of months, or until you are adjusted to the conditions there. I will supply you with an English and Amharic set of books, including the Koran, Bible and folk books from your land. I will arrange a local Amharic native speaker to converse with you each week for at least a couple of hours to keep your native language skills strong.

And I have a Miss Marie Flambeau, a tutor who will be living here for some time to help you to catch up in your studies to where you should be for your age. She might continue also, if you show that you want to accelerate your studies. You did mention medicine, which would require very advanced studies in a number of subjects that could benefit by added personal attention to you. You see, Mikela it is all up to you. If you want to grow up as a proper affluent social young lady, you can. If you want to pursue a difficult course of life, like becoming a doctor, you can do that too. Again, it is up to you.

At night, we keep our doors locked. I suggest that you do so. I will keep mine unlocked for a while until you become acclimated to being here and adjusted to our mode of living. Any questions?”

“Only, will I be required to sleep with you right away?”

“You will never be required to do that, Makela!”

“OK. But I want to.” She was thinking of securing her place here and here place with this admirable man.

He deflecting this line of conversation, “Let’s go down to dinner now, young lady. Mrs. Watson will want to spoil you with a fine dinner for your first night amongst us. And every night afterwards, too,” he added enthusiastically.

After dinner, he accompanied her upstairs to her room. “We usually retire early here. You have a clock in your room that will remind you when to go to bed and when to get up. Until that time, you will have time to do your homework and perhaps use your computer. It is set up to help you with your studies and provide you with language building skills and knowledge building games. You can also write on it, if you want. It is not connected to the internet. There is a terminal in the family room, where all can see what is being accessed on it. That one does have a child lock on it. Any of this that it becomes apparent that you don’t under-stand, will be demonstrated and explained to you. No need to hurry about it, though. You have plenty of time to learn of these things.”

“If you have a personal emergency during the night, there is an emergency button in your headboard. Actually two. One with my initials on it, and the other with Mrs. Watson’s. Please don’t use either of them unless it is a true emergency, like a fire, or that you are not well.”

After all of that, “Good night, Makela. We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Bradstock,” she wearily responded. And she moved into her room and closed the door.

Later that night, as Charles was reading his latest J. A. Jance novel about Beaumont, he heard his door open and Makela entered the room shyly and asked if she could sleep with him. He looked at her for a moment to make up his mind. She said that in her village that the families often slept in very close proximity for safety, and that she would appreciate it tonight because all of this being so very new to her. He smiled and motioned for her to come and get under the covers.

He then noticed that she had only her old nightgown on. It was threadbare and short. She got under the covers and against his side, with her head next to his chest. As he read to finish the chapter he was working on, she let her left arm, stray across his chest and played with the hair there around his nipples. He stood it for a few minutes and then looked down to her with a slight frown. She smiled and then moved her hand down to his nether regions. Just to test the waters, evidently. He reached down and moved her hands back up to his chest. Then he put the book down, marked it at his leaving off place, and turned out the light. He gathered her into his arms and then kissed her on the forehead. Then he rolled over to go to sleep. She sidled up to his back, a little miffed at his rejection, but also soon fell asleep.

When Charles woke up the next morning, she was already gone. So, he showered and dressed to meet the day with her. A day that would be very busy indeed. When he got down to breakfast, which was hot and waiting for him, as Mrs. Watson was very familiar with his biological clock, there was Makela already sitting and eating. She looked up to him as he came to the table, but had no comment to make and so kept her silence.

As Charles prepared to enjoy his breakfast, he briefly broke in to share some of his ‘wisdom’ with Makela. “Just a brief note Makela. There will be a lot of sharings with you over deportment here in our home and elsewhere. I will give you some of it, and Mrs. Watson some other of it. Just a note at this time. When you address us here in our home with only the regular four of us here, you may call me Charles. But, elsewhere and in case we have guests, it will be Mr. Brad-stock. Mrs. Watson and Martin always use those names………………… (A nod by Makela and further silence.) Well, that is enough of that for now.”

When they both had finished their breakfasts, he invited Makela to join him in his office. When there he covered the days itinerary. First, Mrs. Watson was going to take her to the Woman’s Clinic to get her on birth-control pills. This had already been agreed upon by the adoption agency and the ‘counselor.’ No need for a fourteen year old to become pregnant. It just covered many of the possible eventualities. And then she was going to take Makela to buy a total wardrobe, to cover her school, casual home life and outdoor play. Later after dinner, he was going to take her into town to meet with a fine dressmaker to arrange for Makela to be fitted with a couple of evening-wear outfits appropriate to formal dining and formal parties. There would be a couple of preliminary pictures produced at that time, to be used in the next couple of hours.

At a very exclusive lady’s store, he had arranged for a saleslady that he knew very well, in fact had ‘dated,’ to outfit the young girl in appropriate under-things for her formals. And additionally, for other less than casual occasions. Since Cynthia had dated him, she would know exactly what was called for, since he had bought similar articles for her. She was guaranteed a generous tip above her overtime pay to accomplish this, and another chance to spark his interest was in play, too. When they left, he noted the impressive bill and the large sack for a few dozen panties, bras and other items and felt that Cynthia had done her job very well for herself. On the way home, he informed Makela that Mrs. Watson would help her at first to select the proper matching garments to the occasion, and would help her to familiarize herself on how to wear them. Mrs. Watson knew his tastes very well, and had no misgivings about serving them. She had introduced him to his first escort initiator into the world of sex at his age of fouteen. And best of all she had a silent tongue. She never related anything sensitive about the goings-on in the household. For that matter, neither did Martin who had seen a lot of sensitive things in the car during his driving.

After the full day of activities, and more than a few shocks at the makeup of them, Makela was very tired when they got home. Mrs. Watson accompanied her upstairs to put away the new garments. And she smiled approvingly as she unpacked, unlabeled and stowed them into their proper places. Makela felt like a princess when she gazed over the panorama that they made in her drawers and closet. Mrs. Watson, selected two nightgowns for her approval, depending on how she wanted to spend the night. After suggesting what the choice was, Mrs. Watson withdrew from her room and returned to the first floor, from which she rarely came upstairs from, except in emergencies. She had no desire to disturb whatever affairs were in play upstairs for the Master. In truth she to a great degree considered him to be her son, the one that she had never had. And would do practically anything for him.

That night, Makela again joined Charles and offered no excuse at all for doing so. She came to him in a spritely, but still age appropriate nightgown, and joined him under the covers not waiting for an invitation. He was busy reading more of the detective novel about Beaumont, but accommodated her by moving one arm to allow her to cuddle up to his side and lay her arm over his chest.

When she got playful and tweaked a couple of the hairs on it, she got another very unserious frown, at which she let them go. When he finally got to the end of the chapter, he marked the book, laid it on the stand and then turned his attention to the pretty young sprite, next to him.

“Did you enjoy your day, Makela?”

“Yes, I did. But it was so very busy! The lady at the Woman’s Center was very nosy about the reason for the pills. But, the papers that Mrs. Watson had seemed to satisfy her. And Mrs. Watson’s serious and determined frown, quickly quieted her. I loved all of the clothes that you bought me today. I am saving the very exciting underthings for an appropriate time. She winked at this. (He nodded.) Will that be soon?” She asked expectantly.

“Makela, we will give it at least a month for you to become acclimated to me and your surroundings, so that whatever decision that you make in that regard is not one of hysteria, nor of desperation. I will let you know at the proper time. In the meantime, we have a lot to accomplish over the weekend, to get you ready for school. So, let’s get some sleep now, my lovely princess!”

She settled down and only let her hands invade his private region once, just to let him know that she knew that it was there. And ‘it’ already knew that she was, as its risen state announced to her hand. She smiled and drowsed off to fall into sleep. He fell asleep soon after, with dreams of all that he would do for this fine girl, and to her also, he mused. It all depended.

The next morning, they went down to breakfast, not even having her circle to her bedroom for appearances sake. She did wear her bathrobe to quiet any possible sensitivities amongst the household staff. They totally ignored all of this and so proceeded to enjoy another of Mrs. Watson’s breakfast creations. Martin mentioned that the car needed to have its regular service, and Mrs. Watson added in that she needed to get some provisions for the house that were not delivered by their supply service. They looked at each other and by tacit approval and combined the two efforts. This would conveniently leave Mr. Bradstock and Miss Tulu alone in the home together, which after all was the primary purpose of this exercise, anyway.

As they left the breakfast table, Charles asked Makela to get dressed in her around-the-home casuals and to join him at his office in about an hour. She respectfully nodded her assent and disappeared up the stairways like she was fleeing from a fire. ‘Ah, the energy of youth,’ he thought as he saw her tiny cheeks bouncing behind her as she disappeared up the stairs.

When she later appeared at his office door, right on time, he invited her in the door that had been left ajar. He requested her to close and lock it. As she then looked around, she marveled at the wonders in here. Many of which, she had no idea as to their purpose. He smiled as he noticed this and said, “No need to study them at this time, Makela. We will be using none of them for this meeting between us.”

“OK, Mr. Bradstock.”

“Remember Makela, I am Charles to you in my office, and bedroom.”

“OK, Mr…ah….er, Charles.”

“Now, I am letting you know right away that this meeting will be very personal and intimate (at last, she thought) but for your information, my mother gave this same briefing to me when I was about fourteen years old. After I am done with it, you will well imagine the shock that it was for me.”

Among the things that this would establish, would be how Makela handles the interview with the counselor coming up. Nothing that happened here would likely get him into jail, but if it came out, it would very probably get Makela re-moved from the household and a bar from him ever using that pipeline again.

“Now, I need for you to come over to the desk and remove your pants and panties. (She is a little shocked, but complies. And as she does this, he takes off his trousers and his briefs.) Now will you please sit on the corner of the desk with your legs spread and your blouse hitched up to reveal all of your private area? (Again she complied.)

OK! This is the family’s traditional ‘sex lecture.’ It has been given to every member of the family since the family began. It is always very intimidating to the child, but it is felt that it has far reaching benefits to them. And it is always given by a member of the opposite sex, as you will see the reason for as it proceeds.

So, brace yourself and here goes:

This discussion will be about sex as the means to reproduce humans. Sex for fun, will be discussed at some other time.

Humans are made to accomplish this miracle very well. It has resulted in a population of the Earth of about 7 billion, a sign of great ability on the designer of this.

The human family is made up of females, of which you are one and males, as I am made. They each have outward provisions to accomplish this and internal ones. But, briefly what happens is that the male plants a seed (a sperm, from a large grouping carried into the female by a thick substance called semen) into her body where it meets up with a female seed, called an egg (or ovum from her storehouse within her body).

By-the-way, there will be a written test on all of this administered by me, and you will not be allowed to have sex under any conditions, until you score a perfect 100% on it. (That straightened her up.)

The male seed is introduced into the female through a small tunnel that has its outside opening just behind her peeing orifice and between her legs. The tunnel is called a vagina and goes deep within her body to an ending that has a kind of trap door in its ceiling called the cervix. If the sperm are successful, they move through the door and if the timing is right have the opportunity to combine with the egg from the female within a fist-sized chamber called the uterus (or womb.) Usually only one sperm accomplishes this with any one egg. If the conditions are just right, the newly impregnated egg attaches itself to the wall of the womb and begins the process to make a baby. It takes about 9 months to complete the process. And the baby comes out of the woman, through the same vagina as the sperm entered her body through.”

“Any questions, yet?” He inquired. Since she was overwhelmed by all of this as every young one had been to the dawn of the family, she had none and shook her head to indicate such.

“By the way, this lecture is on CD and will be uploaded to your computer for three days and then will disappear. It will give you something to do on your ‘lonely nights’, huh?”

He got uplifted eyes and a blank stare over that.

Now, for the show and tell:

I will point out the location of the various parts of each of us as to reproduction. Some of them are the same ones that will be useful in ‘fun’ sex, also.

“Here is where the sperm come from in the man.” He pointed to his testicles and asked her to hold them. Nothing sexual about it at all. (At least nothing intentional on his part, of course………yeah) She held them very gingerly and as instructed by him next felt the two distinct round objects inside. He informed her that yes there were two of them, if only to have a back-up he guessed. They produced the sperm for baby-making and evidently had to hang in this sack to do its work at a different temperature than was produced within his main body.

He then explained that these sperm, when called for by the body, move up two different tubes, one for each testicle to an organ called the prostate. There they mixed with the seminal fluid that is produced there, and when he was adequately stimulated it was pumped through his penis and out his urethra to where ever his penis was located on, to whatever was in the way, including inside of her vagina, if it was located there. Interestingly, this same passage was used for him to urinate out of. But, during sexual excitation of the male, the urine was blocked off from entering it, and evidently a substance that came out before the main event, called pre-cum, had some effect of cleansing the channel and preparing it for the ride of the sperm, while also helping to lubricate the penis for entry into the female.

He pointed to the appropriate areas for all of these terms and actions. He mentioned that his penis was at rest at the present. That it got very much larger when it was excited, but for her not to worry, it would well fit into any appropriate vagina that welcomed it. This he said with a raised eyebrow and a very light smirk. She caught that and returned it to him.

Now, she was beginning to wonder how long she was going to have to sit on the corner of his desk, exposing her previously considered unmentionables.

He now proceeded to her physiology. He pointed to the area inside her hip bones where the egg sacks of the female are located. He informed her that each female received all of the eggs that she would ever have before her birth. And that they were released, usually one at a time each month about equidistant between her menstruations. When it occurred, many women feel a tenderness in the area of the egg sack. He also informed her that unlike bird eggs, human eggs had no hard shell and were much smaller.

He then traced the presumed path of the tubes that carried the eggs down to the uterus. And then opened her legs wider, to her surprise and located the opening in her groin, where the vagina entered her body. He moistened his finger and inserted it up the vagina past the hymen, to not only her embarrassment, but also to very sensitive and pleasant feelings, and reached back to touch the cervix. Her unexcited and unfilled vagina was not expanded at that moment, which facilitated that. To calm down her feelings, he gently patted her vulva as he withdrew from actively engaging her privates. He said that she could now cover herself. And as she felt like she was going to lose some advantage in this situation, she was very slow in doing so.

He noticed this, but apparently to her, ignored it and continued on. “You will get much of this same information at school in Health classes. But, it has been evident to the members of our family, that giving it in this way enforces a much more sober attitude towards the subject and the consequences of choosing the wrong person to engage in it with. The subject of fun with sex will be brought up later, and you should note has its own terms for the same places and organs that we have discussed now.”

“Alright, Makela. It is now time for us to go down to lunch. After that I expect Miss Flambeau to show up. Your live-in tutor, you know.”

“Oh, and you should probably finish dressing. Mrs. Watson having returned wouldn’t probably comment, but it might interfere with the usage of my fork, with possibly disastrous results.”

She complied and gently laughed at his humor. The first laugh that he could remember from her. And he reminded her of the test. He was very serious about that. And she was properly so, too.

Almost right after lunch, Marie showed up with her two trunks and two travel suitcases. Makela thought, “Boy is she moving in?” and then remembered that she was in a way. She would be staying for some time to tutor Makela. And she was very beautiful and affectionate, which she showed by immediately walking up and hugging Makela, then kissing her on each cheek before breaking off to give the same attention to Mr. Bradstock.

Charles responded to this, “And it is nice to see you again, Marie.” Makela could immediately tell that they had been lovers at some time in the past. She was beginning to see that he was very generous to his past lovers, and by the way Marie was acting, they all wanted a return flight with him. She had seen it in Cynthia also. Well, she realized here were her two immediate competitors for Charles’ interest, ……and bed. This definitely upped the ante. And she also re-membered that she needed to pass Charles’ sex test to be welcomed into his bed. At least that is what he had said. She would prepare very seriously, just in case it did happen.

They all together hauled Marie’s things to her room on the third floor, up the stairs. She was going to stay in the main guest bedroom, which was much like a studio-apartment. It was just two doors down from Makela’s room. But, interestingly in between Makela’s and Charles’ rooms. Hmmmmmmmm.

After moving her things into her room, Charles and Marie excused themselves to go to his office, to converse on what her job would be this time, and the state of affairs here in the home. Makela wondered to herself, if Marie was going to get the sex lecture, too. But, at her age, she had undoubtedly already received several of them, perhaps even one by Charles. She smiled to herself over her own naughtiness. And she continued, Marie probably could not only teach the lessons that she had received on the subject, but teach each of them some newer things, she imagined. Oh, well. She needed to get to her studying.

In the private meeting with Marie, after the obligatory ‘oral’ introduction to her return to the home, they got down to the real business at hand. Not that he didn’t enjoy the greeting, but……… He told Marie what was to be expected of her this time. The educational tutoring without question, and the further indoctrination into the more intimate subjects were also understood by Marie. But, she wanted to know, would she be getting some attention from Charles’, too? He answered, ‘Yes,” but they would have to share. She made a mental note of that, and was dedicated to helping the young girl, but she wanted very much to win in the end. Win it all! A very intimate war was being declared.

After dinner, which had been very lively in conversation, and splendid in menu, he accompanied the two ladies up the stairs, one on one side, the other on the other. He smiled all the way up. He then raised Marie’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, in consigning her to her bedroom. Then he accompanied Makela to her bedroom and firmly closed the door. He informed Makela that she was not to come to his room that night, and not until he let her know that it was OK. He was firm in this, and reminded her that she had ‘homework’ coming up on a very important subject. This was said with highly raised eyebrows. From this interchange she surmised that all was not lost then, because Marie was here.

That night, Marie reminded him about the delights of her body, in person. He slept very soundly afterward, with her in his arms. She had been instructed to be back in her room, before Makela rose at about 9 am. She promised that she would, and knew better than to balk at any of his requests. This had gotten her into deep trouble the last time she had stayed here. She didn’t want any repeat of his anger on that occasion. While this was going on, Makela was busily study-ing the uploaded video on her computer. She had already identified a couple of points that he had evidently forgotten, but in no way was she going to bring that up to him. And then she thought, did he do that on purpose to see what her attitude would be towards him about it? Wouldn’t put it past him she thought, and she determined herself to be the perfect little obedient girl for him. Her best weapon in the ensuing contest with Marie. While Marie had her feminine body and adult manner about her, Makela had what evidently Charles really wanted, a young woman’s body to play with and enter. She would be at no disadvantage in this tug-of-war.

On Sunday, Makela and Marie spent almost the whole day together. They did assessment tests to see where Makela was, and the results showed that she was actually remarkably close to where she should be. So Marie began to help her close the gap immediately. The sooner that this was done, the sooner that Makela could be steered into some manner of life that would give Marie a clearer field with Charles. In the meantime, she intended to keep his member in the pro-per storage place as often as she could. She wasn’t using her birth control, either…… All is fair….she thought. She also was determined to introduce Makela to some woman on woman fun, to earn her trust and to, of course, have fun.

On Monday, Charles returned to his job at the bank. He was a part owner of the bank, on its executive board and held the post of overseeing mid-level business loans. It was a rather cushy job, but that is all that he wanted out of it. It left him with a lot of free time to pursue his other interests. He had an excellent assistant in Linda, who did the ‘heavy lifting’ for him, and also entertained ideas about him, herself. She had made several overtures to him, but the only completed pass was a brief hug and fuck in the dressing room at one of the company parties a couple of years ago. She constantly planned on how to repeat that event. And he knew!

On Monday, Mrs. Watson took Makela to school and presented all of the proper papers to the officials there to get her entered into classes. They were met by Georgia, a young black woman who would be attending classes by her side for the first couple of months, or as long as it took for Makela to become used to the school regimen and the course content. Later that day, Makela would be introduced to another Ethiopian young girl of Makela’s age to help keep her Amharic strong. A very busy day for all involved. They also made an appointment with the athletic director of the school to see about Makela playing on the soccer team, and joining the cross-county running team at the appropriate times of the school year. Charles heartily approved of this. It might burn off some of her abundant energy that she was trying to get him to wear out of her. Evidently the still very limited play that they had (after she had passed her test, with flying colors) wasn’t totally doing the job. And she was having to rotate with Marie, seeing him every other night. Perhaps this exercise at school would slow her down some, he thought.

On Thursday, the counselor came to visit, when Makela had arrived home from school. She was welcomed in by Mrs. Watson and shown to Makela’s room and then the door was shut. It didn’t matter that Charles wasn’t home yet. He had an important meeting at the bank to attend and besides his system had a recorder on it.

Before coming to this interview, the counselor had reviewed her notes from the meetings with these two, and the check-off list that David had supplied with Makela’s arrival here.

She then looked around the room, it was splendid. Makela showed her the new clothes, including the intimate apparel that had been bought for her and put away for her use here. The counselor had noticed the grandeur of the house as they climbed the stairs. She was impressed that there was no elevator. That spoke of a family that highly valued exercise and good health. She didn’t want to be lulled to sleep by all of this, but she knew that she would have to have a really striking reason to move Makela away from this. And she couldn’t think of a single one. Even if Makela was sleeping with Charles. Not even that, if she wasn’t being abused. And Makela showed absolutely no signs of that. She sat very confidently in front of her, every appearance of a very well integrated young woman in surroundings that fit her.

When Charles got home, she met with him and asked him a couple of questions to clarify matters, and was very satisfied at the answers and all of what he was doing for Makela. If he was fucking her as she suspected, she was still going to be one of the most highly educated and loved concubines in history. She refrained from asking him, though. She didn’t actually want to know for sure. And she had a whole cabinet of very sad cases to administer to, it made her feel much better to have at least this one, that despite her darker feelings, was evidently doing fine and would probably be stable far into the future. Case closed, she thought. Just a couple more check-ups, which she herself would do, and then she would leave these folks alone for good.

As she excused herself and was escorted to the door by Mrs. Watson, she looked back at Mr. Bradstock and gave him an arched eyebrow, and then a slightly friendly nod. She then left to try to make some kind of sense out of the horrors that some of the rest of her cases found themselves in.

That night it was Makela’s turn to sleep with him, and he decided he needed to fill her in on another of the family’s secrets. So, after a late dinner, he walked with her up to her room and firmly locked the door.

He turned now to Makela to inquire of how things had gone on the interview. He already knew, because of the recording, but wanted to hear of it directly from her. How she approached this would make a big difference as to whether he proceeded with the actual purpose of his visit.

She informed him that it had went very well, and that the counselor had no idea of the relationship between them. Very unlikely, Charles mused. But, he let her keep this little error, to quiet her qualms. She also said that the lady seemed to be telling her that if nothing changed, that she would be welcome to stay here from now on. She looked at Charles for a reaction to that and got none. She then repeated a very familiar litany, “Charles, I will do anything to stay here!”

And he repeated, “You will never have to do anything that you want to refuse to do, ever!”

Then she looked up at him with an expectant air about her, “Charles, Marie has been showing me some videos that show how people play with sex. It shows many wondrous and exciting things, which at first very much embarrassed me. But, after repeated showings and explanations, I have come to desire these things to happen between us very soon. Like tonight. Also, I hope that you don’t mind, but she has shown me things that ladies can do together, too. (Thank God, he thought. Now maybe I can get some sleep every third night.) It is all so exciting, and feels so good, too!”

So, he decided right then to move on with his own little instructional effort.

“Makela, it is evident that you very much want to be here. And you have earned my trust in not exposing anything happening here that might cause me trouble. Good!

Now I am going to entrust you with another of the family secrets. Please come over here to the middle book shelf. You will notice the book, Bartlett’s Quotations. It is a very common book, used by many people in their research. But, no stranger coming into the room would bother it. It is just a book that is never taken off of the shelf, unless it is needed right then. If you will run your finger along the shelf edge under it, you will feel a soft spot. Please lightly push in there. (They heard a click.) Now tip the book out towards you at the top. (She did so and there was a creaking as the shelf pivoted and opened out to show a door behind it.)”

They avoided being hit by the swinging door by his grabbing her and step-ping to the correct side, which had been the right side, after all. Then he walked up to the door with her and opened it to a very dark space dimly lighted by two sets of colored bulbs, two of them red and two of them green. There was a mismatched pair in front of her and another set over her head inside of the door. Without explanation, he grabbed a flashlight on a self under the lights and walked her through a very narrow corridor to an opening that was where the elevator shaft would be, if they had one, across a narrow walkway with a safety handrail on the deep side, past a descending stairway and then to another narrow corridor that led to another door. This alcove also had two sets of lights on it.

“This means of travel within the house is a closely guarded secret, known only by family members. (It may be known by Mrs. Watson he acknowledged to himself, but if she did she would never reveal it to a human soul. Not even her departed husband had known. This he was very sure of.) You are being given a great trust in knowing and being permitted to use this. Do you understand? (She nods.) Good. When the light above the door is red, that means to leave the person behind it alone. This goes for you or me. This is not to be trifled with! Do you understand that? (Yes, she gravely agreed, not even wanting to know what would happen if she betrayed this secret. No more secrets for sure, she soberly surmised.)”

He, also showed her the button at the side of the door that allowed the person inside of the wall to let the person in the room know that they were there when the light was green. When the button was pushed, it would trigger a peculiar kind of ringing in the clock beside the bed, it was very different from the normal ones and would be immediately recognized for what it was, he explained.

They then retraced their steps and moved back into her room. When she tipped the book back into its normal position, the shelf returned to its normal place. Nothing about it tipped off what was behind it. They had shut the door behind to prevent any noise leaks from it or cold air ones, either. He then moved her over to the bed and showed her a small piece of the edging that could tip out revealing a toggle switch with two positions and no lettering. Charles looked her in the eyes and said, “Left for red and right for green. Do you understand?” “Yes, left for red and right for green,” she repeated.

“Okay Makela, you can come to my room tonight, the door light is green. By the way the lights away from the door are colored, and they tell what is the matching light at the other end, over the other person’s door. I hope that that isn’t too confusing.”

“No, I get it. If I see a green light away from the door when I leave my end, it will be green over you door when I get there.”

“Yes, that is exactly it.”

“And Makela, wear something appropriate for us to play in. Undoubtedly the videos have given you a very vivid idea of what that might be.”

She shyly nodded. He then reminded her to always keep her door locked to the outside hallway, whenever she used the secret access. No one was to know. Nobody usually came up here in the night. But, Marie was in residence and as welcome as she was, she was not a member of the family yet and therefore was not qualified to know about it. By this, Makela recognized that she was now considered a member of the family. She was determined to never lose that status. And also, determined to suffer anything to remain here. With that Charles left the room, and Makela locked the door behind him. She had work to do to prepare herself for him, later.

As Charles noisily walked down the hallway to his room, he noticed that Marie’s door was firmly shut. He knew from the monitor, that she was prepared to spend the night in, reading one of her books in French, he guessed. He wondered at their content. They certainly engrossed her when she became lost in them. And she had a fine wine to relax herself, too. When he entered his room, he moved to take a quick shower and put on only a pair of tight fitting shorty underpants. These were too uncomfortable to wear during the day, but helped to set the right mood at night when the ladies saw them.

Soon after he had laid down and opened his book to read, he heard Makela’s ring on his clock meaning that she was behind the door behind bookshelf. He quickly moved to open the shelf for her entry. And what an entry it was. She had put on an entirely white outfit, with a lot of lace, a couple of bows in interesting locations, pretty lacey panties, thigh high leggings, and 8 inch high spikes on her feet. She had her hair braided into a long rope hanging down her back. And she had made up her face, outlining her eyes and accenting them with very bright blue and green makeup. Now he knew what the large bag had contained. ‘Boy, was that money well spent,’ he thought.

He put his book down and moved to the top of the comforter. He looked her in the eyes and asked her very gently, “Makela my love, are you ready for this? There will likely be a little pain with some of it. But, that will dissipate quickly. I want to know that this is really your desire to share in this and not just mine.”

“It is both of our desires. I have seen how you look at me, and how your cock reacts to my touch. We both want this. And I want to weld you to me forever, never to let you go or to leave this place. I am so happy here, Charles. I will do anything, suffer anything to stay here with you, my love. And my hope!”

“Charles, I have to let you know that with some of the play that Marie introduced me to, that my hymen (as she had instructed me to call it) was broken and that I am no longer a virgin. Does that it ruin it for you?” She asked this with a bit of a forlorn look in her eyes.

Charles, with the kindest eyes that he would ever show, gently said to her, “No, it won’t make any difference at all. It is your heart and life that I want Mikela, not your virginity. Marie was welcome to it. I will have all the rest.”

“Yes, you will my love!”

With that she joined him up on the comforter, as he had motioned her to join him there. He couldn’t bear to move to under to covers, since he wanted to feast on her beauty throughout the coming love making. She understood, because she felt the same. She very much admired the effect that the tiny shorties that he wore were having on her, too. ‘Turn-about is fair play,’ she had learned lately in some kind of lesson.

He gathered her into his arms and kissed her lips and then her mouth with a passion that she had never experienced from him before. She returned it to him, because her heart and body was already on fire, too. Their arms and hands wandered all over each of their bodies, glorying in all of the little secret places that they found together. Her hands found his cock and became centered there. His hands then found her pussy and began the process of awakening it to his intended purpose. It didn’t take that long. This night he wasn’t going to extend it out for too long. That could come later. He just wanted to introduce her to the pleasures of intimacy and let it go on from there in the future. So, he moved down to her pussy to wake it up with his mouth. She moved to do the same with his cock, in the famous ‘69’ position, which the video says is many gentlemen’s favorite position.

She still had her whole outfit on, and she received no instructions from Charles to take it off. As Charles used his tongue on her pussy, he grasped her twin bottoms and gently squeezed and caressed them. No spanking them this time, he thought. As the juices began to flow freely from the both of them, he knew that it was time to move on. So, he clued her to trade ends with her body and then to lay on her back underneath him. He kissed her from her forehead all the way down to her feet and then back up to her pussy again. She was so excited that her body was writhing in sensitivity. He briefly brought his member up to her mouth to firm it up again, and then moved it down to her cleft. He rubbed it up and down her pussy cleft and when it was wet enough from their combined fluids, he gently entered it into her vaginal vault. It ventured in with surprising ease, despite the tightness of the tunnel. Her eyes got very large while this was happening and to his inquiry, if everything was alright, she replied, “Much better than alright!”

When he hit bottom, her bottom rose up to meet him, like it was trying to force him in even deeper. But, his cock was in as far as it would go for now. As they made love repeatedly in the future, her vagina would stretch to eventually take his whole 7 inches. She remarked with a wondrous voice, “I am so full of you, Charles. I don’t ever want you to leave me.” He hugged her very tightly with that and whispered into her ears, “You will never have to leave me in any way that really counts, my love.” With that she smiled into his eyes and begged him to fuck her. He began the motions then and increased their power and frequency as he checked her response to it. There was no problem there. And so he moved on to cum inside of her, but she came first. She just utterly lost it and moaned and cried in her release of passion, that drove him right over the top and he happily released his load of love into her. She grabbed hold of him and gently wept into his shoulder out of pure love and tension release. She felt so loved and secure in his arms, with his cock firmly imbedded inside of her.

She then got the idea that she wanted him inside of her ass, too. That would finalize her ownership of him. If she regularly gave that up to him, he would never go to anyone else and leave her behind. She moved him off of herself and rolled over onto her stomach, while placing two pillows under herself. He asked if she was giving him, what he thought she was, and she said “Yes, just be careful, this is my first time.”

He gently kneaded her back to relax her. He then kissed her down her back to her bottoms and between them to finally center his mouth and tongue on her anus. He gave it a lot of oral attentions and then used his finger up into her. With that she motioned to the drawer that she knew had the necessary lube for this and he grabbed it and proceeded to lube up his member and her asshole. Then he moved his cock up to the opening and asked her to guide it in. She did so very slowly and then when he was totally in, began to push back on him to force it in as deep as he could go. She was surprised at how good this felt. As they got into the rhythm of it, he grabbed the long rope of hair and used it for leverage to push himself into her as deeply as he could. She then shouted out to him, “Cum inside of my ass, Charles! Fill me up again.” A few more strokes into her and he did just that with her panties skewed off to the side, her spikes digging into his legs, her perfume in his nostrils from the pretties, and his hand firmly pulling on her rope. He then collapsed on to the bed beside her. She was too exhausted to check on him right away. But, when she was able to do so, she found him just fine and with a very large smile on his face. She then buried her face into his chest and moved her panties aside and pushed his only barely hardened member into its proper place. She wasn’t sure if she would ever let it out. And she clung to him in emotional desperation and love. They fell sleep in that state.

After that night, he totally belonged to her and her to him. But, she came to love Marie very much, too as Makela progressed through her education and as life in the Bradstock home took on a whole new balance. Oh, Martin was still there. Mrs. Watson was there. But, Charles and the ladies found their own balance in things, and with her many hours of study let Marie have her time with him, also; besides the times that they spent together. Charles actually got a night of sleep alone each week, and sometimes two. It worked out very well for each of them.

Makela graduated from high school (with two years of college credit to her name already) at age 17 and immediately married Charles, they had 6 children over the years, and he had three by Marie, too. Marie stayed home to work with Mrs. Watson on the caring of the children, while Makela continued her education, to eventually become a doctor. When the last child was born, she kept her promise to return to her country and helped out the people there. She was greeted with great fanfare there and guarded more tightly than the president himself. She returned every year for a couple of months for the rest of her life.

The counselor lived long enough to see all of this happen, and often used Makela as an example of how things can work out if everyone involved tries very hard for it to do so. She knew all along what had happened. But, she never threw it up to Mr. Bradstock when they would meet. All she would ask was, “How are Makela and the kids?” And from the gigantic smile on his face, she knew that she had made the right choice those many years ago.
3 comments

James Dylan DeanReport

2017-12-23 10:07:47
THE WARD was meant to reflect the terrible choices that women have to make in their lives, and the gratitude that they often feel with the ones that use them, but in a kindhearted way. It is written as the best that my limited abilities permit. Thank you for your thoughts.

James Dylan DeanReport

2017-12-23 10:05:21
TxEmt: I have no problem with your summation of your feelings about my stories. RUNAWAY was intended to reflect the dire circumstances and usual horrible ending for those who enter the sex worker/drug addict world. And the heartache that their passing leaves for all of those who cared for them. This story is very personal, because I have had several relationships that reflected that.

TxEmtReport

2017-12-23 07:54:38
The story Runaway was a good story but the end was very depressing. It might receive better acceptance if he could of helped turn her life around. Some may like this but it is not for me especially now during the Holiday Season? My life is down enough. My job is to help people and it is depressing if I fail.
The Ward started off strong and was entertaining and somewhat stimulating but never really got me "excited". Found it lacking and the end of the story really took a nose dive like you got tired of writing it and shut down. Don't mean to piss you off but that's how I felt. Neither would go 90%. I have read much better. Not saying I can do better.

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