59 comments/ 50911 views/ 21 favorites The Curse of the Scots By: carvohi Preface: This is a long story. I started fiddling with it back in April 2013. It has seven parts. Each one is long, but they are all completed. I'll put one up every day or so. There may be places where my expertise with regard to certain social activities don't match yours. If you find I don't measure up to your better understandings please accept this for what it is; a quasi-fictional story about several people. I hope you enjoy it. However, should you lose interest and stop reading be considerate and eschew scoring it. The Curse of the Scots The Curse of the Scots, Part one Part One: Good Times and a Problem. I'm a farmer, and a pretty damn successful one. Yep, that's me good old Cayden McLeish; landowner, truck farmer, forester, horse owner, even waterman; any way I can earn a little capital. Oh yeah, I'm ethnically Scottish. So I guess everyone knows what that means. I might be expected to be a little tight fisted; that's not really true, at least not in my case, and I might be a somewhat somber, maybe a little morose by nature; now that regrettably is true. I'm certainly an American, but in all sincerity my Scottish ancestry has prevented me from being too ebullient about anything. A person never knows; the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Once I got started I got my farm going really well. I'll explain how I came to own my farm later on. Anyway I managed to secure some good help. I put in corn and soy beans on most the open land, but I set aside a big chunk for vegetables; strawberries, tomatoes, cantaloupes, beans, and so forth. I don't live far from the ocean. Let me explain more about that. Years ago the distance between my farm, it was my great-grandmother's farm then, and the beach was pretty intimidating, but when the nearby ocean resorts got really going in the 1980's, actually things started to kick in the 1950's, but that was way before my time, plus the expansion of the Interstates my connection with the beach got a lot easier. I hooked up with some other truck farmers, and some guys who'd set up fruit stands, and the beach became our new goldmine. I've been making money hand over fist during the summer months. In the winter I started to have a lot more free time. I had horses, and I got involved with the trotters, the sulky races, I even have my own horse. But what I wanted to do was make some real money in some other way. When I was in the army I had a lot of free time. I'll share some army stories later too. A lot of guys spent their time at the bars, or playing pool. I learned to play poker, and I got good at it. I especially liked Five Card Draw, but most especially I learned to like Texas Hold Em. All up and down the east coast there have always been games. Players like me have to be careful though; some of these games can get pretty skanky. Don't forget everybody tries to cheat. If you're smart you know to stay away from the really big cities. Don't go near Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington D.C., or New York, and of course especially stay away from Atlantic City. These are the places where the big timers are found. They'll clean you out, and if they can't they'll have their whores rip you off or their thugs might kill you if you do too well, especially if they don't think you'll be back again or they're afraid you have an edge they don't know about. Think about gambling as something akin to horse racing. If you go to the big tracks all the horses are so good they're almost impossible to handicap, but at the smaller tracks I've found it much easier to judge which horses have a better chance at winning. Same with cards; the big cities have so many really talented players it's impossible to win, but in the smaller towns the odds aren't so daunting. I found some of the mid-sized and smaller cities in Maryland, Delaware, and Pennsylvania have pretty good games. There's a problem there though; the good games seldom stay good for long, the cheaters and other frauds always find a way to screw things up. That means of lot of the games are hit or miss; sometimes they're good then sometimes...well... That's where I am now, at a game that's gone bad, and my life is about to change in a most dramatic way. Cheaters and cheating are pretty commonplace in most of these small town games where outsiders like me show up. Be forewarned, I'm not here to give anyone a lesson on card tricks so don't try to second guess me, it's best to remember someone invents a new way to cheat almost every day. Players, quasi-amateurs like me, just have to be alert and careful. Of course poker is like a marathon. A game might start in the early evening, and it could run for hours without any breaks or results. I hear they say if after two or three hours a player doesn't know who the fool or the sucker is at the table then it's probably them. One thing I've noticed is, after several hours those who rely on cheating, if I don't spot them right away, get progressively more careless. There are lots of ways to cheat; palming cards, marking cards, scraping the edges, electronic gimmicks, having a couple players working together to drive up the pots on a target. These are all pretty run of the mill, and with a little experience it's easier to see, but always keep in mind, if you're not comfortable with the game at hand then get out. One of the stupider things guys who run these kinds of operations sometimes try to do is find ways to actually see what's in an opponent's hand. There are a lot of ways to do this, but one way that almost never fails to show up is to use whores, hopefully pretty whores who will try to distract or spy out drunk or tired players. So here I was in a gritty backroom in what was once considered a pretty nice bar. Whores were all over the place, in and out, some trying to work the table, others hoping to score some other way. People would think I'd be talking about some kind of sex; but more than likely its getting some drunk's wallet, and getting his cash and credit cards. I've seen it, and believe me it takes a sorry asshole to get taken, but it happens all the time. Well I'd been playing this game. We were playing Texas Hold Em, it was close to 3:00 a.m., and I'd been seated uninterrupted for close to five hours. I stopped making piss trips when the pots started getting bigger. I'd stopped drinking or eating anything around midnight, and before that I was only drinking out of bottles I was sure had never been opened or tampered with, but that's another whole game. Sometimes I take condoms and piss in them if I get desperate. I'd just piss in the thing, tie it off, and drop it on the floor, somebody would eventually pick it up. Anyway there was this whore who'd been surreptitiously hovering around me off and on for the past hour. I could see the 'host' knew who she was. He also knew what she was supposed to be doing. I'm just not supposed to know. How stupid could these people be? She was trying her damnedest to distract me or to get a peek at my two down cards. She was stupid; it just wasn't going to happen. She looked old for what she was doing; maybe somewhere in her thirties, and she looked pretty shopworn. I'd feel sorry for the bitch if I didn't know what she was trying to do. I discreetly watched what she'd been up to; that alone could be all her pimp wanted. The first thing I noticed about her was she was basically scared shitless. I wondered; I've won a few big hands, and the 'host' and another guy I see were working in tandem trying to cut me down. Right then, in this pot there was at least $4,000.00, a decent pot. The dumb bitch has sent her pimp some kind of signal because I could see by his tell that he thought he had me. He dumped another goodly amount of money in the pot. His partner raised it a little more. It was left to me. I knew I had both of them, because I was pretty sure it was the pimp who had the better cards and he wasn't that smart. I threw in my coin, "I call." Sitting on the table was a jack, a nine, and a three. The pimp dropped his two cards. He'd been holding a nine and a jack, "Two pair," he confidently called. As he reached across for the gold I dropped my two cards, "Three threes I replied." The son-of-a-bitch didn't even look at me. He looked at the whore, "Fuck," he scowled! I started to reach across for my money when the prick did something completely unexpected. He called a buddy from behind the bar, "Hey, give me your belt." I wondered; 'what the fuck is going on?' He looked at the whore and yelled, "Get your ugly ass over here." I watched as the whore cringed and sort of pensively walked toward her pimp. He grabbed her, he threw her on the floor, and he started to beat her with this belt, "You bitch," he yelled, "you fucking bitch!" I was amazed. I knew she was passing information, but I never dreamed they'd beat her for such a simple fuck up. The guy with the belt kept beating her. He looked at the guy who came from behind the bar and yelled, "Bring me some rope and a plastic bag." I watched as the gofer retrieved a piece of rope and a clear plastic bag. The guy with the belt kept beating her. The whore cried out, "No, please Vince!" Vince yelled back, "You're dead you worthless bitch." He kept flailing away with this belt. By now I saw this was no joke. This poor pig was in a real world of shit. Her back, her arms, her thighs, were being ripped to pieces by Vince with this belt; it was one of those old army belts with a metal tip on the end, everywhere the belt landed it left an open cut. I pushed my chair back. I was about ready to call it a night anyway, and I didn't want to sit in on a murder. Vince had ripped what little clothing she had on off. All she'd had on had been a tight fitting crop top and a nasty looking thong. There she was on this dirty floor getting the shit kicked out her. That's when the gofer showed up with the rope and the plastic bag. Vince got up and started to kick the bitch in the stomach and in the direction of her twat. She was really crying by then; actually it sounded more like a series of low animal moans than real crying. It was easy to see this wasn't some game; they weren't doing this for my benefit, this Vince really wanted to hurt her. "Take it bitch," he yelled. The gofer took the plastic bag he brought, and he slipped it over her head. Then he took the rope and knotted it off real tight around her neck. I watched; she was already starting to suffocate. I could hear her sobbing through the bag. I could see she was pretty pathetic. I looked at her asshole; it was redder than the bloody shit that was coming out of it. I'd noticed earlier they'd been slamming in and out of her probably half the night. It looked like there were cigarette burns on her ass cheeks. In my humble opinion it takes a sorry bastard to put his butts out on a woman. Vince kept yelling and cussing and flailing away with this fucking belt. All the other players were watching; I could see they were as dumbfounded as I was. The poor dumb cow was in bad shape; another minute or two and I could see she'd be dead. I didn't want to watch this, but I couldn't just up and leave. Fuck, if I left, they might kill her and try to find a way to blame me! Christ I had to do something! I calmly leaned back in my chair and asked, "How much do you want for her?" Vince kept hitting her. Then he stopped, he looked up, and asked, "What?" I said, "What's she worth?" He asked, "You want her?" I looked at her. In another few seconds it wouldn't matter, I said, "Yeah I want her. I'll buy her from you" Vince was surprised, he looked numb, he asked, "Why would you want this? He pointed to the nearly passed out whore with near complete incredulity. I laughed, "Love at first sight I guess?" Everyone else laughed too. The bag was still wrapped around her head and she was almost unconscious. Vince said, "What are you willing to pay?" I reached inside my coat and pulled out an extra wad of cash, it was another $1,000.00. I threw it on the pile I'd just won, "How's that? Vince sat back. He looked at the cash. He looked back at the gofer, "Let the fucking bitch loose." The gofer tore the bag off her head. The whore slumped down on the floor. I saw where she'd pissed herself. Vince looked at me, "You want her; you got her." I stared back at him, "I want a bill of sale." Vince blinked, "You want a what?" The whore was lying on the floor in her own piss; she'd started to cough and wheeze so I knew she wasn't dead, at least not yet. I answered Vince, "I want proof before I leave that everyone knows she's bought and paid for." Vince looked at the gofer, "Go get me a sheet of paper and a pen." I sat back and waited while the gofer got the pen and paper. I didn't dare look at the whore; Vince might want to raise the price, and he was already getting at least twice what she was worth. The gofer came back. Vince wrote out a bill of sale. He just wrote '$5,000.00 for Caprice'. He put the date and signed it. He handed me the paper, "She's yours." I knew I was done playing poker, but I felt like I needed to continue for a few more hands. My guess was I ought to try to lose a little more money; it might make it a little safer when I tried to leave. I looked at the whore and pointed to the floor beside my chair, "Here," I said this in a flat unemotional voice. She crawled over to the spot I indicated. I took the piece of rope still around her neck. I tied it a little tighter. She choked and coughed some more. Then I tied the other end of the rope to one of the legs of my chair. I looked around, "Whose deal is it?" They all laughed while I got out another envelope full of money. ++++++++++ The game goes on: It took me another two hours before that was cleaned out. The whole time we were playing, Vince, the other guys at the table and maybe half dozen other assholes were watching me and this whore on the floor beside me. I was real careful not to pay any attention to the bitch; any show of concern might backfire, but I could see her out of the corner of my eye. She was cold and shivering. The floor was old tile, and I figured it was probably pretty cold. My guess was she was sick before any of this happened; what was going on now would only make her worse, but I knew there wasn't a God damned thing I could do. I checked my watch; it was nearly 6:00 a.m., probably close to sunrise outside. I'd been at it for more than ten hours, and I'd lost a shit pot of money. The crowd that hovered around the table looked to be a lot worse than the group that had started the game the previous evening. This was a skanky bunch; I figured they were mostly the dregs of the town and Vince's little private army. I didn't feel real safe. I hoped the morning sun might give me an added advantage when I tried to leave. I looked down at the whore at my feet; she was pathetic. I read the bill of sale so I knew what name she'd been given. I said, "Well Caprice; time to go home." Caprice looked up at me with dead eyes. I knew I had a real piece of shit here, but I was also pretty sure, considering the shape she was in, they'd most likely finish her off and dump her somewhere if I didn't take her. I stood up; untied the rope from the chair I'd been sitting on for nearly ten hours. I spied out the bathroom and looked down at the whore. Using the rope I yanked her up. I did it kind of roughly so no one would think I felt any compassion for her, "Come on." I started off for the single bathroom at the end of the room. I figured I had to get her into the bathroom and at least see what the damage was before we left. I also wanted to get some clothes on her just in case there was a cop outside. I didn't trust these bastards. I knew just before midnight this wasn't my kind of game, and I knew I'd certainly never be back. I walked to the bathroom. Caprice, if that was her name, followed. We walked inside. I found the shitter and opened the door, "Sit down," I said. She sat down and typical of a whore she started to reach for the fly of my pants. I swiped her hand away, "Don't move," I said. She sat there on the toilet while I took off my sport coat and the blue shirt I'd worn that night. It was a good shirt, cotton, a button down. I hung the shirt on the hook. I undid my belt and fly and let my pants drop to the floor. The whore reached for the slit in my boxers. She still thought I wanted a blow job. Well I thought the bitch knew her trade. I swatted her hand away again and said, "No!" She sat back. I saw she was real scared. She had this beaten dog look, and she was covered in this cheap makeup. My bet was she'd probably spent a lot of time around this place just being afraid. I dropped my boxers and handed them to her. They were white and considering how long I'd been in them they still looked pretty clean. I mean there were no shit or piss stains. I pulled my pants back up and re-hitched my belt. I told her, "Stand up and put your hands on my shoulders." She figured out what I was doing. She did as she was told. I leaned down and pushed one then the other of her feet into the legs of my white boxers. I pulled the boxers up so her pussy was covered by my pants. Already my clean white boxers were smudged by her blood. I couldn't tell how much of it was from the beating or how much of it was from her ravaged ass. I told her, "Hold out your arms." She held out her arms, and I slipped my shirt on her. I buttoned all but the top three buttons up. She still had the rope around her neck. If I didn't look too close, I figured she didn't look half bad. The shirt looked good on her. Her tits weren't real big; for an older broad they still looked pretty firm. The fabric of my shirt rubbed across her nipples and they started to stick out. I said to her, "Sit down." She sat back down on the toilet seat. I looked at her, "I just bought you. You know that?" She nodded. I went on, "I can leave you here. If I leave you I figure they'll probably kill you. If you go with me I can't guarantee it, but I think things will be a lot different for you. What do you want?" She looked at me like I was from some other planet. I didn't think she fully understood. At last she said, "I'd like to go with you." I pulled on the rope and I said, "When we leave the bathroom follow close behind. Keep both hands on the rope. Don't look at anybody. Just look at my back. You're mine now. If you make any false moves someone will probably try to kill us both. Get it?" She kind of numbly nodded. I knew the bill of sale I got meant nothing in the real world, but in the world where this woman lived it meant her life and mine. I had to get her and me out of this place quickly but not too hurriedly. Haste makes waste they say. We walked out of the bathroom to silence. The game had ended, and there were only a few people milling about or cleaning up. I went straight for the stairs that lead to the back of the building. I heard her as she stumbled along behind me. I counted thirteen steps. I heard her as she made each one. Finally we were at the door. I pushed the door open and we walked outside. There were like nine guys waiting for us. I walked straight ahead with the whore right behind me. I'd brought my old Chevy Suburban pick-up with the extended cab, but regular bed. The bed was covered. Inside the bed were two extra tires. One never knew. I got her to the passenger's side. I had discreetly checked around. I didn't see anything that would've caused a puncture to any of the tires. I saw Vince was outside watching me. I unlocked the passenger door, and I helped her get in. I used the lever and lowered her seat so she could lay back. I closed her door. I walked around to my side, opened the door, and climbed in. I inserted the key, turned on the ignition and slowly, I mean very slowly pulled away. At the time I had no idea how much my life was about to change. The Curse of the Scots Ch. 02 Part Two: (There's a whore, an ex-wife, and a farmer each with their own demons.) I was up early the next morning. I slipped into the master bedroom and saw Caprice was still asleep; probably the Nyquil. I walked over and tapped her shoulder, "Hey sleepy head." She rolled over and gave me a lazy look, "Oh, you." I smiled as I unfastened the locks that held her in bed, "You've a busy day coming up; so let's get up and at it." She sat up and tried to stretch; the lacerations from Vince's beating were still unpleasant, actually they looked worse since they'd started to heal. She peered up at me; she was pretty sure I wouldn't hit her, but I could tell she still had some serious lingering doubt, "What are we doing today?" She placed a little extra emphasis on the word we. I gave her good big grin, "I know somebody who doesn't have any clothes so I'm going shopping. You're going to get your hair done. Also I have a friend who'll be staying with you most of the day." "You mean a guard," she retorted acerbically. "I can't leave you alone now can I, and I can't leave you tied up all day either." "I get to go out?" "You get the run of the house." She snickered, "Wow!" Just then there was a knock on the door. I looked up, "That's her now," I went to the front door and let a youngish black woman in. I walked her over to Caprice, "Caprice this Aurora, Aurora this is Caprice." Caprice smiled and held out her hand, "Hi." Caprice must have picked up on the introduction; by introducing her to Aurora she knew she'd been given second status, nobody told her that; but I thought I could tell she'd known it. Aurora took her hand and looked around, "Breakfast?" I already had my coat on, "Not for me." Caprice nodded, "Maybe a piece of toast." Aurora was already at the toaster. I hit the front door and was gone. +++++++++ I was just this whore, and a captive in this crazy man's house. I decided to spend the morning lying around. What else could I do? I waited till 10:00 a.m. and decided to take another bath. I could soak some more, and then apply some more Neosporin. Aurora admonished me not to get my hair wet. When I asked her why not she said someone would be by to dye my hair later and it was always better to dye dirty hair. I'd had never heard that before, but didn't argue. I was kind of surprised. After I took a bath and dried off Aurora helped me with the Neosporin. Aurora watched and commented on my wounds, "You've got a lot of little cuts there. What happened?" I gave Aurora what I hoped was a thoughtful glance. I surmised what her being black she probably didn't know much and had probably never been anywhere, "I guess Cayden told you I was a whore when he found me." Aurora had been told, she'd been warned that women like this could be tricky, but this was her first real American whore, she replied, "Somebody gave you a thorough beating. I've been to Holland. In some places they display the whores there through windows. I don't think anyone beats those whores." I thought the scamps been to Europe! I saw an opening, "Cayden saved my life. They'd wrapped my head in a plastic bag and were smothering me when Cayden stopped them." There I thought, Cayden the hero, we have something in common. Aurora took the whore's hands in hers, "It was a good thing Cayden was there. He's a good man. I like him;" after a pause she added, "most people around here like Cayden, but he's so backward he doesn't even know it." She stopped there; what was it, T.M.I.? I asked, "Why not?" "Look I want to change the bed and Cayden's got some wash I want to do." I sensed there was something more than friendship between Aurora and the Farmer, "You sleep with him don't you." Aurora had been walking toward the bedroom but stopped, she turned back to the whore, "Look you're treading mighty close to some pretty deep water. You ever see a rip tide?" I shook my head no. "You could be pulled out and drown in a few seconds. There are some places you simply ought to not go." I had my answer. He was either sleeping with her, or he could any time he wanted. This Cayden might be younger than he looked, maybe closer to thirty than forty. Aurora looked to be maybe twenty-five maybe a little less, "How old is Cayden?" "Oh Cayden, he's thirty," Aurora stood still and looked at me, "and I'm twenty-three and just married, but if Cayden wanted me he could have me. He knows it, and my husband knows it." "What would your husband do if..." "He'd kill him. Then he'd kill me. It would break his heart, but he'd have to." "You all think a lot of him." "I love him. My husband and everyone in my family have a lot of respect for him. Honestly I think my husband and my father would be his friends if he'd let them." "What you being black?" "Hardly, Cayden's not like that, not like, well he's not ophay." "Ophay?" "African word I think. Most people don't use it anymore, and white people don't know what it means." I was intrigued, "What does it mean?" Aurora stepped forward a little, "Well there's white people and being white. Cayden's a white man, but he doesn't act white. You know white people who are outwardly nice and friendly to people of African descent, but who lie, cheat, or rob us every chance they get." I thought about what Aurora had just said; she wasn't far from the truth. Aurora headed back toward the bedroom, "I'll remake the bed and get some wash done. Maybe later you can tell me what it's like to be a whore." +++++++++++ Around mid-day the two of us sat down for lunch. Aurora had fixed tuna fish with slices of tomato and lettuce. I decided to plumb the depths of Aurora's knowledge of my jailer, "Have you known Cayden very long?" "All my life," was Aurora's reply. "What's he like; I mean what kind of man is he?" Aurora replied, "He's a good man, a hard worker, trustworthy. He's someone a person can count on. He helped pay my way through college." "He helped you through college?" Aurora started to talk, "I know who you are. Believe me you don't know the man, if you did you'd be happier than a pig in mud." "What do you know about me?" "I know Cayden bought you in a card game. You'll more than likely try to either trick me or try to talk me into letting you get away. Trust me; that won't happen. Cayden's family; he's been part of my family since he was born, and you know how I feel about him personally." "Do tell." Aurora went ahead and told me what she knew about Cayden's birth, the failed abortion, his mother's death, his upbringing, how he was raised alone by five old people, and how he'd been a big help to her family all his life. She explained it had been reciprocal; Cayden kept her family employed and at good pay, and since he had no kids he'd helped pay the costs of tuition for her and her brother. In return they'd watched out for his maiden aunts while he was gone, and they'd kept an eye out for his ex-wife. I asked Aurora, "You don't talk like a black person." Aurora grinned, "I can if you want me to." "You can turn it on and off." "Some can't but most of us can. We're not stupid." "Tell me, you said, or somebody said, Cayden had a wife," actually nobody had said anything; I was just stabbing in the dark. Once Caprice asked about Cayden's former wife Aurora shut up, "He was married once, but that's none of my business. I keep out of it, and if you're smart you will too." Everything Aurora said confirmed my original opinion of the man; just another do-gooder, probably another phony Christian all ready with the charity as long as there was something in it for him, and an overall easy target, a sheep waiting to be sheared. I didn't believe for a second he was any better than any other white person in his thoughts about the colored. Yeah I figured him out, pretty handsome now, but in a few years he'd get that middle aged spread, lose some hair, get that bald circle right in the middle, get a lot of dandruff, and a few years after that he'd be a limp dick sucking on Viagra and looking for someone like me to lie to him and tell him what a man he was. Sure, he'd be just another dick waiting to be cut off. ++++++++++ How Cayden had a very busy day. I had a very busy day. First I stopped at the beauty parlor and reminded Cora about my request for someone to stop in and do the hair thing. Then I stopped in at my friend who was the local doctor. His name was Silas Deane, and he agreed to stop off at my place and look Caprice's injuries over, but mostly to check her private parts to see how bad they were. I slipped over to my dentist, and set up Caprice's first appointment. I drove to Georgetown, Delaware, had a long talk with a tattooist, and bought a laser tattoo replacement kit. Last I drove down to the beach to the Gold Coast Mall to check out a few of the more fashionable clothes boutiques. I purchased some shoes, a couple dresses, skirts, blouses, nylons, panties, bras, jumpers, slack outfits, skirt and jacket outfits, pajamas, a lightweight green raincoat, and lingerie of all types. I even threw in a pair of light brown jeans and a couple Oxford button downs. I didn't really shop; I pointed to what I liked and gave the salesperson the sizes. I bought nice things, but I didn't overdo it. She needed clothes, might as well get better than cheap, but she was still a whore, she'd probably try to rob me and run. I chuckled at that, 'she'd rob me, but at least when she split she'd be reasonably well dressed.' While I shopped I thought about Emily; my perfect little girl, the girl I couldn't reach. Every now and then I wondered who all this shit was really for; was this whore becoming my fantasy child, like my substitute daughter, maybe a replacement for my ex-wife, another girl I couldn't have. Was I compensating for something I should have done a long time ago? I only gave it passing reference; maybe I was the stupid farmer Caprice thought I was. I hoped Angie's mother got my ex-wife to agree to buy some nicer clothes instead of the crap she ordinarily wore. I was tired of seeing her and my daughter dressed in Walmart clearance stuff. I let it go. ++++++++++ Cayden shows the whore what he bought. Caprice looked askance at the bags of clothes I brought in the house. To her I guess she figured I was a total asshole; a couple simple outfits would have been more than enough. I could almost read her mind. I bet she concluded my decision to buy more than was required was just that much more proof I was delusional. She wasn't some innocent Cinderella waiting for a carriage ride to the ball; she was too far gone for that fantasy. She knew what she was; a whore, just another dirty whore, a worthless piece of shit that was beneath contempt. I bet that was what she thought. I figured she was probably right. She looked at me and chuckled, "You bought all this shit for me?" "Yeah, take the stuff back in the bedroom, hang it up in the closet or put it away in the bureau. Look it over. Find something you like and put it on." ++++++++++ While Caprice went back to the bedroom I went upstairs. There were two bedrooms upstairs, but I'd turned one into a kind of study. I had an old fashioned computer tower, a printer, and several file cabinets filled with farm records. I felt like I was pretty adept at the computer stuff. I'd added memory cards, kept ahead on the operating systems, was careful what programs to load, had gotten away from the countless numbers of confusing and easily tangled wires, and had everything backed up on line as well as on memory sticks. I guess I was still a little backward about some things; I still kept hard copies of everything. I also kept spare sets of keys to my two pick-ups, the Lexus, and for all the pieces of farm machinery. I kept all my financial records stored in a separate safe that was bolted to the floor in the closet. I opened the safe, rummaged around a little till I found the documents I needed. Easter Sunday was only a few days away. Emily had taken her first riding lessons; these were lessons I'd paid for but had screened the costs through Angie's mom. I bet Angie wondered sometimes where her mom got the money for the things she managed to buy. The papers I found included the bill of sale for a small brown pony and receipts in advance for the costs of care and maintenance of the animal for the next six months at Mr. Ellis's farm. I used the printer scanner and made hard copies of everything then I slid this paperwork in a large white envelope. I'd arranged with a farmer down in one of the Virginia counties to bring the pony up and leave it tied to the front yard fence at Angie's mom's while Angie, her mom and Emily were at church Easter Sunday. I knew I wouldn't be there to see the look on Emily's face so I had persuaded Del to hide behind a tree and take pictures of Emily and Angie when they saw the pony. I had a good enough imagination to know the little girl would be thrilled, but I still wanted some pictures I could look at later. I have a special place to store pictures like these. Uncle Mitchel had owned an old sea chest. I keep it in my upstairs study/office. All the records and pictures I have that pertain to Emily and Angie since I'd gotten back from the service are locked in there. There are two keys; one I keep on my key chain and the other is safely hanging from a nail above the bedroom lentil. Sometimes late at night or after something special has happened I open the old chest and browse through the pictures and documents. I know it's stupid, but it makes me feel close to my daughter, and yes I have to admit it makes me feel better about Angie. I know she hates me, but I've never really stopped caring for her. Sure she's humiliated me a hundred different ways, but I've had it coming. I know we'll never get back together, but there was a time, a short time I admit, when things were pretty good. I guess those are about the only really happy memories I have of anything. That sure says something about what a loser I am. I remember there were nights when we were first married. She's such a tiny woman. Almost flat chested, thin hips, delicate. She has small breasts, but her aureole are beautiful, dark brown, and her nipples stick out at the least provocation. I used to like to nibble on those tiny little tits. Her vagina was small, tight, but she never complained when I entered her. I tried to be gentle, but I knew it hurt. She would wrap her legs around my waist. God was she magnificent in bed. At first she never hesitated to go down on me. She'd kneel in front of me and start with her lips, just gentle kisses, then she'd wrap her mouth around me. I was too big for her to take all the way, but she tried. Later, since I sometimes had to work real late, it's a farmer's lot; she suspected I was cheating on her. I know I was meaner than shit before we got married, but afterward I tried to do better. I never did cheat, but she got suspicious, and then things started to go south. Honestly, as I think back, I'd had better, but I never married her for the sex. She was such a little firecracker; always happy, always eager to please, at least at first. I don't know exactly what went wrong, but when it did it really did. Sure I'd been bad news for a long time, I'd been mean, but I'd tried to change. It was like the more I changed, the more she did too. I planned on taking this paperwork over the Angie's mom's this afternoon. I had a pretty good idea I wouldn't see Angie or Emily because this was one of the days my little girl had dance lessons. The lessons are another thing I've been able to get for Emily without Angie knowing where the money came from. ++++++++++ I get a better look at the whore. Caprice stepped out from the bedroom, she asked, "How do I look?" I gasped. The whore I'd brought home the other morning had undergone an almost complete metamorphosis. There were still traces of the old black eye and there were thin red marks on her arms and the calves of her legs, but the skirt and blouse she wore transformed her from beleaguered whore to a remarkably beautiful woman. "Yeah', I thought, 'a nice transformation, but she's no Liza Doolittle'. The blouse was a pale green. I'd chosen it because I thought it might match the color of her eyes. I was right; they matched perfectly. The blouse had three quarter length sleeves. It buttoned up the front to a sharp angular business woman's collar. She left the top buttons undone, and her very pretty breasts insistently pressed against the soft fabric exposing just enough cleavage to cause me to feel self-consciously aware that I was still a man. The skirt was a deep dark green; a woolen pleated plaid thing actually. It was a mini, the hem rested just above her knees. The way the skirt swept outward from her tiny waist only increased my sexual anxiety. The hairdresser I'd hired had left just before I'd arrived. Her hair had been re-dyed to what I hoped was her natural color; a light brown with reddish highlights. She'd cut it short, but Caprice had found enough to tie it off in a very pretty ponytail. I could see by the expression on her face she knew how terrific she looked. She smiled, she laughed giddily, then she stood on her toes and pirouetted several times. Each pirouette caused the hem of her skirt to flutter outward revealing a pair of dark green very frilly panties. I was stunned, "Caprice you're beautiful." Then to my surprise she ran up to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me softly on my cheek, "You like," she asked? Her arms around my neck caused her breasts to push against me, further arousing the slumbering giant between my legs, "Very much," was my awkward reply. Then I said a very stupid thing, "I have to take some papers over to an acquaintance. Would you like to ride along?" The whore stood on tiptoes making her just slightly taller than me. She kissed me again and replied, "I'd love it." Just like that I'd let my dick tell my brain what I was supposed to do. I hadn't behaved this stupidly since before I left for the army. Yeah Caprice was a whore, and a good one; she knew just what buttons to push. ++++++++++ Caprice and I got in my newer pick-up, the GM HD diesel, and drove over to Angie's mom's, as expected Angie had found a ride and taken little Emily to her dance classes. I left Caprice in the truck while I went to the door to talk. I figured there wasn't much chance of her running. I kept the keys, and she still didn't know where she was. I knocked on the door and I heard grandma inside as she came and opened the door. Grandma looked tired but she had a wary smile on her face, "Afternoon Cayden. I got Angie, Emily, and me outfits for Easter," she handed me the receipts. She hadn't wasted any time, I said, "That's great. Here's the information, all in your name about the pony and where's he'll be boarded after Sunday. You see I've got him at Mr. Ellis's. The pony's name is Johnny. He's a good animal, gentle, and affectionate. He likes carrots." I hesitated just a second and asked, "Have you had any trouble with Angie about where the moneys coming from?" Grandma replied, "No, she thinks it's coming from somewhere else. You and I both know if she thought it was from you she'd turn it down." "She still hates me that much? I understand that, but she and I have a child. Even if Angie refuses to admit it I know I'm Emily's daddy, and everybody else knows it too. I know we'll probably never get back together. That used to gnaw at me, still does sometimes. I would like to have the opportunity to make things up to Angie. I could be the husband she deserves. I guess I shouldn't have runaway and joined the army, but at the time knew I wasn't man enough to handle her, myself, and a farm. Hell, back then I was her cuck and everybody's target for jokes. I tell you it's fucked up. Now that I'm ready and able she won't." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 02 Grandma looked out at the truck, "Got a girlfriend Cayden?" "No," I answered, "she's just someone I picked up, been helping her out a little lately." Grandma looked back. I could see she was checking the time on the wall clock over the mantle. After another glance toward the truck and Caprice she looked back at me, "Why don't you and the lady come inside for a minute or two? Angie won't be back with Emily for at least a couple hours. I'd like to meet the girl with you. Plus we could talk about my concerns about Angie." The old woman had me. She knew I'd want to hear anything she had to say about the girls, but if I let Caprice come in she'd find out about the whore, and worse, Caprice might find things out about me I'd rather she never knew. But what difference did it make if Caprice found out about my kid and ex-wife; she probably wasn't going to be around long enough for it to matter. For that matter what did I care if grandma learned about the whore? I answered, "Sure. Put on some coffee while I get my friend." Grandma went back to start the coffee while I went out to the truck. Back at the truck I warned the whore, "The old woman's invited us in. Don't say more than you have to." I could see right away the whore, that was to say Caprice, was a little surprised that me, 'Farmer John' was going to let her meet someone other than the hired help. I bet she thought I was stupider than she'd originally thought. Anyway she answered, "I'd like that." I opened the truck door for her and helped her out. I watched her reaction. I think she kind of liked being treated liked she was something besides somebody's pig. That interested me; it was second nature to me, but for her it must have been unusual. I hoped she understood this gentlemanly behavior wasn't planned. I wasn't trying to make her feel grateful. I just did shit, nice shit. I'm sure I was a total fool to her. I walked Caprice up to the front door, and held it for her so she could go in first. I knew by the way she acted she wasn't used to being treated like a lady. Though it was stuff all men were supposed to do, it made me feel good doing it for somebody who probably didn't think they deserved it. The way I see it all women are entitled to a little courtesy. I hadn't always felt that way, but I'd been trying to change. Honestly, I wanted her to feel like she deserved it. Oh know it's stupid but the Liza Doolittle thing had its appeal. I led her to the kitchen where grandma had already set out three coffee cups, three plates and some spoons and forks, and she'd brought out an apple pie. Grandma started pouring the coffee, "I baked a pie for Emily. It's apple, her favorite. I don't think she'll mind if we snitch a piece or two before she gets home." She looked at Caprice, "If you don't like coffee I have some homemade lemonade." Caprice answered, "Coffee's fine." I'd had about enough of the family thing so I asked, "Tell me Mrs. Bradford, Bradford was Angie's maiden name and her mom's name. I seldom used it preferring to stay with Angie's old married name though her dad had forced Angie to drop it when he made her get the divorce, "what's bothering you about Angie that I don't already know about?" Mrs. Bradford spooned some sugar in her coffee and stirred it, "You know she's still with that Bernard Keith." I only nodded. I watched Caprice out of the corner of my eye. I swear she must have been a secretary or something in her pre-whore life. She was hanging on every word. Grandma went on, "He's been buying cocaine. As far as I know Angie hasn't started yet, but I'm sure Bernard's got something up his sleeve, and I mean more than just getting her high." I listened, but I didn't think I could do anything about it. So far Angie was still happy with Jim Beam, but I knew if she got hooked up with cocaine she'd be in some deep shit, "Shit, if Bernard gets her on that stuff he'll be renting her stupid little ass to every Tom, Dick and Harry from here to Milford, but I don't think there's anything I can do about it." Grandma gave me 'the look', "You sell yourself short. She won't listen to you, but the police will." "You want me to have her arrested?" "If you have to," Grandma digressed, "What's the one thing Angie cares about. It's Emily. If she thought she could lose Emily because of her behavior; you might be able to save her from herself, and you'd be helping your daughter." I listened to Mrs. Bradford but watched Caprice. She was finding out too much too fast. Caprice interjected, "I didn't know you had a daughter." Grandma gave Caprice an incredulous look, then she looked at me, "She doesn't know?" I had no choice, "You might as well tell her." Mrs. Bradford took a bite of pie, stirred her coffee and started, "Cayden here married my daughter right out of high school. She was a total innocent." The old woman looked at Cayden with poorly disguised anger, "He ruined her; got her into alcohol, loose sex, you name it. He turned her into a little whore; actually a whore without the money. Then he ran off and left her, brought her back for her father to abuse and humiliate while he ran off and joined the army. While he was gone she had his baby," she pointed to a picture on the wall, "that's her, name's Emily. She's the one thing the two of them did right." She looked back at me, "I guess the asshole thought she'd welcome him back with open arms when he got home, but not Angie. Oh she still loved him, as a matter of fact she still does, but the anger and hate runs pretty deep. She won't let him near his daughter, even denies she's his. Now she's back and forth between me and this bum Bernard. She'll move in with Bernard till he gets drunk and beats her, then she moves back here till she recovers. She's stupid though; I think Social Services is on to her. Of course Cayden pays for everything. I know Angie only does what she does get at our boy here." She pointed at me. Caprice put her fingers to her lips. She voiced the one thing all three of us noticed, "Emily looks a lot like a younger and prettier me." I bristled, "She's not like you. She's nothing like you." Mrs. Bradford realized my relationship with the new woman wasn't all she thought it was. There was something else going on, and it wasn't healthy. She decided to ignore it. Her interests were her daughter, granddaughter, and what I could do to help them. She looked sharply at me, "Cayden you could get people to put pressure on her, get her away from Bernard, maybe get her in some kind of program. You could find her a job. I mean a job where she wouldn't be around the people she's with now." Caprice knew she looked just like her. Even I saw the resemblance between her and the little girl in the picture. Jesus, she'd only been around me a handful of days; I bet she was wondering if I hadn't conjured some kind of fantasy that put her in as a substitute for a girl this woman said I couldn't get near? If she thought this was even remotely true she would think it was like a gift from heaven. All she had to do was suck up just a little, just pretend to be my make believe girl, and she might be able to walk away with a fortune. Most men lived in foolish fairy tale fantasies anyway; damn this one would be handing her one that was made to order! Caprice pretended to be contrite, "I'm sorry I didn't mean that innocent little girl was anything like me: I was just thinking out loud." She tried to look sincere but I could tell she didn't think it was working. She went on, "You might want to listen to Mrs. Bradford though. If this woman; Angie? If she gets into cocaine, it'll be a lot harder on everybody." I shifted in my chair. What she said made me uncomfortable. I know I must have involuntarily grimaced, "You would know about that?" Her reply went right to my stomach, "Yes I would." I looked at Angie's mom, "Thanks for the pie and coffee, I stood up and reached for the whore, "We'll be going," I smiled at Mrs. Bradford, but it wasn't an honest smile, "I'll think about what you said." I gently pulled Caprice to her feet, "Come on." Caprice rose from her chair, "Thanks for pie and coffee Mrs. Bradford, hope to see you again sometime." ++++++++++ I take Caprice shopping. How stupid is that? I drove down to the coastal highway. It wasn't because I was feeling particularly generous, but I'd noticed Caprice didn't have a single piece of jewelry, not even a wrist watch. Caprice sat beside me in the cab without saying anything. I was glad of it. I was angry with myself for taking her out, and then even angrier for letting her come inside after Angie's mom offered. Finally Caprice had to remark something, "This doesn't look like the way we came." I kept my eyes on the road, "No, it's not." She replied, "What, this is when you get rid of me?" I did look over then, "No, but if you want to leave you can." "I'm OK," she said. "Well if you're not leaving we have to get you some things. I can't go to church myself and leave you tied to the bed now can I," I thought I probably could but it would sort of run counter to the whole Easter theme. "This is Easter Week. There's church this Thursday night and then Easter Sunday. You'll need an Easter dress, and you don't have a bit of jewelry." The whore quietly murmured, "That's right, Maundy Thursday." I asked, "You know about that?" I saw Caprice was surprised; she'd stunned herself, I bet it had been years since she'd thought of any of that. She started running her mouth. Wow! All kinds of shit came flooding out. "The Last Supper, the Garden of Gethsemane, Peter with the sword, Judas's betrayal; everybody knows all that." The whore was starting to get on my nerves in ways I hadn't expected. This was no ordinary old prostitute; somewhere she'd been trained, once she'd had a home life, "Caprice; that's a whore's name. What's your real name?" She stared out the windshield, "I don't remember, Honestly, I've been called Caprice so long..." "Forget it," We'd reached the Gold Coast Mall and found a place to park, "There's a nice boutique in here. It's where I bought the other things. It's called Sherry's. You go ahead and pick what you want for Easter. Don't forget you'll need shoes, stockings, a purse, you know all the other stuff." She eyed me suspiciously, "How much can I spend." I shrugged, "Just get what you want. Have the people box it up, and I'll pay for it when I get there." "You don't want to look at it first?" I thought about it a second, "Maybe you should get two outfits; one for Thursday and another for Sunday. As for me seeing what you buy; we'll go to church together. I'll see what you bought then." Caught a little off guard the whore asked, "Where will you be?" "I'm going to Kay's. I told you, you need jewelry." I could see she didn't know what to think. I bet she'd been with lots of Johns. I hoped none acted like me. I'm sure that wasn't true. I bet there'd been old men when she was young who would buy her jewelry, but I sort of thought they probably always made a big show of it. Of course they'd always expected a pay back. Not me! Oh, I had a pay back in mind, but not what she was thinking. I was just going to go get some things and bring it all back like I was buying a dozen eggs. It occurred to me, maybe I was just a little fucked up when it came to her. Why would that be? She was just an old whore. Well she wasn't that old. Sure she looked a little like Emily, but other than that she meant nothing to me. She answered me, "OK, I'll be at the boutique you mentioned. Leaving her at the entrance to the mall I half expected she'd just disappear. I walked on down to the jeweler's. Whatever I bought wouldn't matter. If she ran away I could take it back, if she didn't then she'd have something to wear. I went into Kay's and was greeted almost immediately by a nice middle aged lady, dark hair, glasses, she's was a little overweight but her appearance was generally pleasant. I didn't haggle. I got a pair of Garnet earrings and a necklace to match. I also picked up a set of small hooped earrings and a simple gold necklace with a Sand-dollar pennant. I didn't recall exactly what the Sand-dollar was supposed to mean, but I knew it had something to do with Christ. I thought I'd find out just how much more the whore might know. I also bought her an inexpensive wristwatch; just a small gold thing with a leather band, more functional than decorative. I skirted around the edges of the counter and spied an attractive pearl ring. I guessed at her ring size and bought that too. To tell the truth I'd never bought any woman jewelry before; I didn't know what I was doing. I thought of Angie. I should have bought her some shit back when we were married. I knew why I never did. I was different then. None of the stuff was too costly, but I thought it all looked pretty good, and the way my life had been going I'd probably never buy any woman jewelry again anyway. When I got to the boutique I was surprised Caprice hadn't run away. She was seated in one of those overstuffed cushion chairs they had at those kinds of places. She had a couple bags filled with boxes at her feet. As soon as I got there a saleswoman appeared and handed me the bill. Considering what I told he to get the bill looked pretty low. I paid it, picked up her bags; I stuffed the bag I had in one of hers and started out of the store. I stopped for a second and tried as politely as I could to say something, "I'm sorry my hands are full. I won't be able to take your arm," was I surprised when she laughed and slipped her arm through one of mine. I half believe her laugh was sincere, but it's hard to tell with whores. We left the mall and I asked her if she was hungry. She said she was so I suggested a seafood restaurant. She said she'd heard of it but had never been there. So I took her to Phillip's. It probably has the best seafood in the region. When we got to the restaurant she asked me about Angie and my daughter. I figured she knew most of the story anyway, so I filled her in one everything else. She didn't say much, but she listened attentively. I had to question what I was doing. I knew she was a whore, a cheap one at that, and she'd certainly acted the part at first. But now she seemed different. I wondered if she had really started to feel differently, or if it was all an act just to suck me in. Either way I wasn't too worried. She hadn't gotten anything yet. After we ate we drove back to the farm. Caprice asked me if I'd like to see what she's bought. I told her it didn't matter. I saw she looked a little disappointed that I didn't want to see the clothes she'd bought so I changed my mind and told her to go ahead. She told me she wanted to put them on and model them for me. I agreed, but I think I mostly felt like she was just trying to figure out a way to seduce me. One thing was certain; until she was tested for STDs I wasn't touching her, and since this was Wednesday and tomorrow Maundy Thursday, the doctor wouldn't be seeing her until after Easter. Caprice went in the big bedroom to slip on her first outfit. While she did that I slipped into the kitchen and poured myself and her two big lemon iced teas. I went back in the living room and sat down on the sofa. I didn't have to wait long. She came out dressed in what she said she'd like to wear on Maundy Thursday. Honestly, I was overwhelmed. It was a salmon colored skirt and jacket set with a beautiful white blouse and matching low heeled salmon colored shoes. She was beautiful. She was more than beautiful she looked pure and innocent. "I haven't decided yet how I should fix my hair, she said. "Do you have any suggestions?" I just stood there, utterly and totally flabbergasted, "No...I...uh..." "You think maybe a pony tail? It's short, but there's still enough to get a little one." "Uh...yeah...sure," finally I got something out, "Jesus Caprice you're beautiful!" She smiled a little forlornly, "Not too bad for an old whore I guess." I didn't know what to say. I knew she was a whore, nobody knew better than I did, but the look just didn't fit the woman I'd bought. For some reason I wanted to say something to please her, "I have an idea Caprice. From now until after Easter let's pretend you're just a regular girl. No more whore talk, no more thinking about how you're going to steal my shirt, and me not worrying about when you'll be on the Internet e-mailing that guy Vince to come and get you." I watched her as she got real serious. She said some things I wasn't sure I could believe, "I hadn't thought about contacting Vince. Actually he's the last person I want to talk to. I'm flattered you'd want to treat me in a regular way. I mean I haven't done anything to deserve it. You're being nice to me and I don't know why. I know what I am, but I can pretend if you will. Yes, I'd like that, what you said. I'll pretend to be someone who you met in the army, and I've come to see you. How does that sound?" I smiled, "That's great. But you're going to need a last name." "How about Fischer? I can be Caprice Fischer." I looked her over; Fischer, sounded like a good name, "Ok, until after Easter you're an old friend I met from back in the army, and your name is Caprice Fischer." Caprice smiled and did another one of her pirouettes, "Wait here and I'll come back with my Easter dress on." I stopped her, "No you don't Ms. Fischer. I have a few things for you first. Now you wait a minute!" I dashed into the bedroom, grabbed the jewelry bags, and rushed back out. I felt like a school boy and I didn't know why. I got out the watch first, Hold out your wrist." Caprice held out her arm. I opened the watch box, got it out, and fastened it on her wrist, "What do you think?" Caprice turned her wrist this way and that, "This is really very nice Cayden. I'm trying to remember the last time a man had bought me anything without expecting to be fucked or sucked off in return. I can't remember. Thank you, I'll take care of it and give it back right after Easter." "No," I said, "that's yours." I could tell she knew it wasn't especially expensive, but somehow I didn't think she cared about the price, she said softly, "Thank you Cayden." "Wait a minute, I've got something else you can wear Thursday night," I got out the delicate hooped earrings, "I saw you have pierced ears. I thought these might look nice." I watched her as she took the hooped earrings and slipped them through the bottom piercing in each ear. She looked in the mirror, "They're nice Cayden." I grinned. I felt foolish, "I have something else," I got out the necklace with the Sand-dollar pendant, "Can I put it on you?" Caprice turned her back and waited. I was clumsy but I finally slipped the necklace around her neck, but only after several unsuccessful attempts, "There, what do you think?" Caprice looked in the mirror at the necklace and then the pendant. She touched the Sand-Dollar with her finger tips, and out of nowhere quietly murmured, "There's a lovely little legend, that I would like to tell, of the birth and death of Jesus, found in this lowly shell. If you examine closely, you'll see that you find here, four nail holes and a fifth one, made by a Roman's spear. On one side the Easter lily, its center is the star that appeared unto the shepherds and led them from afar. The Christmas Poinsettia etched on the other side, reminds us of His birthday, our happy Christmastide. Now break the center open, and here you will release, the five white doves awaiting, to spread Good Will and Peace. This simple little symbol, Christ left for you and me, to help us spread His Gospel, through all Eternity." I listened; brother was I spellbound, "That's the legend of the Sand-Dollar." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 02 The woman held the pendant another second and let it go, "Oh how silly. Where did that come from?" "You recited the whole thing. I bet hardly anybody knows it that well. Who taught it to you?" I could see she felt awkward, maybe a little silly. She replied in this really soft voice, like she was somebody else, "I don't know. I can't remember. It just came out. I must have seen or heard it on television." I knew better. Whore she may be, or maybe might have been, but somewhere back there in her past was a girl, a real girl. I tried to lighten the mood, I chuckled, "Oh yeah, sure. You probably heard it and remembered it from some movie." Caprice laughed too, but it was an awkward and clumsy laugh, "Yeah I got it on television," I watched her change quickly, "Let me show you my Sunday dress." I wanted to smile but couldn't, the poem she'd read still rang in my ears, "Yeah, show me your Easter dress." A minute later Caprice was out in a pale yellow one piece dress. It was simple sheath, tight circular collar, short sleeved; it came down to just above her knees. She had on a pair of yellow low heeled shoes, "Will this be all right." I looked it over. It was a very conservative dress, and probably something a lot less expensive than she might have chosen. For the first time I thought of the heels; both sets of shoes had low heels. If she'd had chosen higher heels she probably would have been taller than me when we stood side by side. That was respect; it confused me a little bit. I reopened the jewelry bag and got out the garnet earrings and matching necklace, "Here see how these look." Caprice took the garnets and held them in her hands. In the lowest of whispers she said, "These are nice Cayden." I tried to make light of the gift, "Just some dumb jewelry from a John. Oh yeah, here's a ring," I handed her the pearl ring. Caprice looked up. I saw the hurt in her eyes. I knew this time it wasn't faked. She said very softly but firmly, "Until after Easter you're nobody's 'John' Cayden. You're just a guy, a really nice guy." In spite of everything; in spite of the fact she was a whore, might have been a whore once, in spite of the fact she hadn't been medically checked I wanted more than anything to travel the distance between her and me, crush her in my arms, kiss her lovely lips, carry her into the bedroom and make mad passionate love. I wanted to, but I didn't, "I guess you should put everything away. I'll go get your fastenings so you can get to bed." Caprice had started for the bedroom, but stopped and turned back around to face me. She held up her hands, palms out, "Cayden would you mind very much if you didn't lock me up tonight." I stammered, "But I..." She stopped me, "Not any more, not till after Easter. Come to bed with me tonight. No sex. I know how you feel about...No, just come to bed and we'll sleep together. I want to pretend...that...I mean one time...you can hold me...I bought pajamas." I stood in the middle of the living room and felt like a fool. The only thing that came to mind was an old Hank Williams song. I was...Kawlija...an old wooden Indian. I gruffly replied, "I'll go brush my teeth and pull on some clean boxers. It was the strangest fucking evening of my life. Here I was in my bed with a good looking woman, arms wrapped around her, her in cotton pajamas with her hands folded in front as if in prayer, and that's how we slept, or at least pretended to sleep. ++++++++++ A passing glimpse into what a whore was thinking. All night I lay there. I lay quietly. I was folded in his arms. , and for the first time since I could remember I felt, well, gosh, I felt...safe. I felt like no one expected me to put on a performance. Damn it, now I wanted to put on a performance! Just before he pretended to go to sleep he asked me, "Caprice, why did you pick the name Fischer?" I curled back more tightly in his arms. I felt the hardness of his manhood press against me. I didn't feel obligated to offer sex. I didn't feel like I was some zombie. I didn't feel dirty. I answered him the best I could, "I don't know. I guess it just slipped out." We lay there together in the dark, in the silence, touching, but we hardly touched. His body felt warm against mine ++++++++++ Angie got home just in time to see Cayden pull away. What she saw disturbed her. I got home in time to see Cayden's big truck pull away. I noticed there was someone in the cab with him. I walked Emily inside, "Emily you run upstairs and play," I looked around and heard my mother back in the kitchen. The air in the house carried my husband's, I mean my ex-husband's unmistakable scent. Cayden had always been an Old Spice man. Sometimes he used some derivative of the spice aroma, but it was always spicy, and I always loved it. I reached the kitchen and saw my mom rinsing some cups and dishes. An apple pie was on the table; three slices had obviously been cut, "Mom who was here with Cayden?" Mrs. Bradford put the last of the cups in the cupboard, folded, and put aside the dish rag, "Cayden's got himself a woman friend." I unconsciously shivered, the hackles on the back of my neck began to rise, "Really, who?" "Names Caprice; seems like a nice girl." Cayden had been home from the army quite a while. In all that time he hadn't even looked at a woman; at least no woman other than me. The whole time he'd been trying to reconnect with me, and I'd done my level best to make his life as difficult as possible. I enjoyed punishing him for the way he'd left me to join the army, the way he'd abandoned me. Sure I remembered how messed up I'd been before he left, but I'd pretty much straightened myself out by the time he got back. Then when he came back I started feeling angry and uncertain all over again. Before he'd left I'd been sure he'd been running around on me; later, after he left I realized he'd been loyal. God knows I loved him, I guess still did, but I hated him too. I needed him, but every time he got near me I got crazy. Sometimes when I saw him all I wanted to do was run to him and wrap my arms around him. But I'd hold up; something always came over me, some kind of need to be angry, to stay angry, and I had this indescribable need to get even. Since he'd come back I'd started to do wrong things, self-destructive things again. I deliberately kept him away from his daughter. I made a point of carousing and drinking every chance I could. I worked hard to make sure he knew everything I did. We weren't married anymore, but I never accepted my father's decision to make me divorce him, and I tried to act like more an estranged wife, not a free spirited single woman, and right up to today, excepting the time Bernard had beat me up, it had worked exactly like I wanted. It was crazy how my life had changed. All the time Cayden had been away my father had made me stay away from men. When my father died I continued to avoid them; then when Cayden came home I started acting up again. Actually I thought I'd be careful; I only let Bernard do anything. I picked Bernard because I knew how much Cayden hated him; I wished I hadn't now. I just don't know what is wrong with me. Cayden makes me crazy. Sometimes when I'm alone I just start crying. I don't know why I just do. He's always on my mind. I listened to my mom and got afraid, but I feigned indifference, "What does she look like?" Mom knew what buttons to push, "She's pretty, light brown hair, green eyes." Mrs. Bradford cast a glance down at her daughter's flat chest, "She's got boobs. I'd say maybe 34bs. Yeah she's a shapely woman. She's mature too." I was a stick, skinny legs, scrawny neck and arms, almost no boobs, mousy brown hair. Men never gave me a second look unless I was offering something. The only man who'd paid attention to me had been Cayden. At first he'd been wonderful, then he'd turned mean, then he started to get nice again. After he came back from the army I thought he wanted to treat me the way he did when we'd first met. I'd already pulled myself together. I had Emily; I'd been a good mom, a really good mom. Then he came back. I knew what it was; I wanted to show him up. I started to do bad things again. I didn't really want to; I just wanted him to...I don't know what I wanted him to do. I'm so confused. I opened my cell phone and called Bernard. He picked his phone up on the other end, "Bernard," he made some comment on his end, "Yeah come get me." I put my phone down, "I'm going out mom. I'll be at the Wagon Wheel." Mom scowled, "Angie tomorrow's Holy Thursday. Emily has a dance lesson. You need to be home with your girl." I made a face. Mom was right. I needed to stay close to home with my mom at least till after Easter. I thought I should try to find out a little more about the woman in Cayden's truck. I called Bernard back and cancelled. I told him Thursday night. ++++++++++ The doctor pays Cayden a call. I was up early Thursday morning, and it was a good thing too. Dr. Silas Deane, general practitioner, the local home town doctor was at my door at 9:00. He knocked on the door and waited. I opened up and held out my hand, "Good to see you." Silas answered, "You said you had a patient?" "Sure do, I responded, "I'll go awaken her." Caprice was still lying dreamily on her side of the bed. There'd been no sex, but she'd felt Cayden's presence against her all night. It had been an eerie sensation; to lie in bed with a man's warmth pressed against her and not feeling obligated to reach around. She pushed the covers down and stretched. The damage Vince had done with the belt was still keenly felt, but the warm space beside her where Cayden's body had just been made her flush with something she hadn't felt in years. Was it contentment, was it happiness? No, not likely, not for people like her. She looked up lazily as I walked in. "Caprice the doctor's here." She sat up, "I'll go wash." "No," I responded, "we don't have time. Dr. Deane's presence is a personal favor, a special favor." She slid her legs to the side allowing her feet to land on the cool hardwood floor. Bare feet on bare wood; it must have felt good because I saw her smile. She covered her mouth and yawned, "Let me at least comb my hair and brush my teeth." I looked Caprice over as she sat up in the bed. Her hair was shorter thanks to yesterday's cut. A full night's sleep had helped put some real color in her cheeks. Her eyes looked bright and cheery. Somehow the crow's feet I'd noted around her green eyes the other night made her look pleasant and inviting in the bright yellow of the morning sun. I liked the way the sun coming in the window haloed her face; for a moment I forgot she was a whore. "I'll tell him you'll be right out," I turned and left the bedroom, closing the door behind me. Caprice went to the bathroom; brushed her teeth and ran her fingers through her much shorter hair. The new dye job and the somewhat shortened coif made her feel younger. She tore off the pajamas and slipped into the blouse and skirt she'd had on the day before. There were bras and panties, but she let them stay in the bureau. She got up, left the bathroom, smoothed the blouse and stepped into the living room. She walked over to where I was standing and put a hand on my shoulder. She self-consciously whispered, "Do I look all right?" Even as she said it I could tell she started to feel awkward. I guessed she was thinking, 'Who was she but a well- used worn out old whore? Why would anyone care how she looked? Why should she?' I angled my head and gave her a second once over. I whispered back, "You're gorgeous." Caprice knew she was a whore, a common piece of trash, but for some reason I think my compliment was more than just heartening; I think it made her feel like she had worth. She blushed at my whispered remark. It was only an offhand comment, but to her I thought she responded like it was some kind an endearment. At least that's what I hoped. "Doc this is Caprice. She's had a run of bad luck. Could you give her a quick check, just to make sure there's nothing seriously infected or out of whack?" Dr. Deane looked at the woman and studiously replied, "Normally we'd need another woman, preferably a nurse present for a checkup like this, but Cayden has told me a little about your history. If you don't mind Miss uh..." "Fischer, Ms. Fischer." "Well Ms. Fischer if you'd remove your blouse and skirt I'd like to examine you." Caprice unbuttoned her blouse and placed it on the back of a nearby chair. She unzipped the side of the skirt, lowered it, and stepped forward so that it might join the blouse. Standing in front of the doctor didn't seem to bother her, but the sight of me watching her undress seemed to make her feel strangely disquieted. At least that was what I thought; it sure looked like it. I bet she couldn't have given a number to how many times she'd stood in front of men with nothing on, but being naked like this in my presence I sort of could tell made her feel uncomfortable. She didn't want to be like this in front of me and in front of another man. She unconsciously tried to cover herself; she placed one hand over her vagina and she used the other to cover her breasts. Realizing what she was doing she put her hands down, but only for a second. She self-consciously lifted her hands again, and again she found she was trying to hide her nakedness from my eyes. She looked at me in a funny way. I watched Caprice's attempts to manage her situation with bemusement. I had a sense this wasn't a whore's ploy; this was real embarrassment. I tried to reassure her, "It's only for a moment Caprice." She gifted me with a silly smile. Dr. Deane circled the youngish woman. He barely touched her, but he did gain an impression of the severity of her cuts and bruises. Dr. Deane was an older man; he'd seen his share of injured and abused women, "This is bad. Somebody did a real number on you girl," he looked at me, "I'll have to file a report." Caprice panicked, "A report? They'll investigate!" "Normally they would, but with a statement from Cayden, and with my recommendation, unless you wish to file a complaint, it shouldn't go too far." Caprice breathed more easily, "No complaint here." Silas stepped behind her, "Would you bend over and put your hands down toward the floor. Cayden asked if I would look at your rectum. Would that be all right Ms. Fischer?" She hesitated, then she turned so I wouldn't see her rear end; she nodded at Dr. Deane and leaned forward. Dr. Deane slipped on a pair of rubber gloves; he leaned forward, and carefully spread her cheeks. He took his right index finger and touched the outermost portions of her anus. He stepped back, pulled off the gloves, and walked to the table, "Do we have any sterile paper or a clean towel?" "How about some paper towels," I asked? "They'll do. Just place them here on the edge of the table. The doctor pointed to the end of the dining room table. Once I had the paper towels on the table Dr. Deane placed a finger on the edge of table and pointed, "Jump up here please Ms. Fischer. I'd like to examine your vagina." Caprice walked to the table. Surprisingly she looked at me and gestured with her left hand that I should turn around so I wouldn't see. I turned my back. I heard her as she jumped so that she was on the paper towels. "Lean back please," the doctor instructed. Caprice must have leaned back on the table. "All the way please." I guess Caprice must have laid back so that her back was pressed against the table top and her rear end was hanging slightly over the edge. I realized I could get a glimpse of everything if I looked at the porch door windows. Even with my back turned I got a bird's eye view. The doctor put on a second pair of rubber gloves and proceeded to examine her vagina. He carefully pulled her labia outward and then back. He briefly touched her clitoris. He took two fingers and penetrated her vaginal walls slightly, spreading them as he did. He stepped back, "OK, you can get dressed." While Caprice slipped her blouse and skirt back on I turned back around. Dr. Deane spoke to me, "Her back looks pretty good considering. The Neosporin seems to be doing the trick. I'm going to give you another prescription you can also use as a topical just in case. Her rectum has been severely damaged. That's a big part of the incontinence you say she has. Her vagina has been exposed to some extensive abuse as well. There are simple procedures for each. Of course, the surgical procedure for the rectum is commonplace. For her vagina there's a newer procedure called vaginal rejuvenation. It's newer, but women have started to treat it as though it were cosmetic surgery. It's not dangerous, but there is some discomfort. Neither procedure is prohibitively expensive, though I don't think the vaginal procedure is covered by any insurance companies yet." He looked at Caprice, "How old are you; twenty-nine, thirty?" She replied, "Thirty." "Ms. Fischer I don't want to alarm you, but judging from the condition of your anatomy the life you've been leading has been pretty destructive. I can't tell you what you should do, but I can tell you it would be in your best interest to find another way to make money," he paused then went on, "One last thing, I'd like to draw some blood and take a couple samples from your mouth. "I'll have the results from the samples sometime next week." Caprice asked, "What do you need a saliva sample for?" The doctor dissembled, "Well along with the blood I can check for STDs, but I can also check for other secondary infections, and one or two other things. "What other things," asked Caprice? "Well your age places you at the extreme limit of some scientific activity, but there's a remote possibility, if your parents had a DNA sampling done on you when say you started school, we might be able to glean some more of you medical history." Caprice immediately backed off, "No, no DNA. I don't want that." I stepped forward and took her shoulders in my hands, "That's OK, no DNA. We'll just get a little blood to check for, you know, the other things." Caprice had panicked, had she been thinking she would have known once they had the blood her DNA would come up easily. Unwittingly she replied, "Just some blood, just for the STDs." The doctor took his sample, smiled, and said, "I'm on my way. I'll get the results back to you in a few days. I'll fill out a report, and someone will probably bring it over later for signatures. I expect someone from the state police might be by as well." I showed the doctor to the door, came back, and sat down beside Caprice on the sofa, "Do you want to take a shower so I can rub in some more Neosporin. Then maybe, if you want, you could lie back down a while." She gave me a forlorn look that quickly morphed into one of suspicion, "What do you intend to do with me?" I reached out and touched her neck, she flinched back, I didn't follow up, "We're going to finish fixing your cuts and bruises. I'm taking you out this afternoon, and I'm taking you to church tonight." She interrupted, "You know what I mean." "Oh that; well, a dentist will be fixing your teeth. We'll find a doctor and set up times to repair your vagina and your rectum, and I already bought a tattoo removal kit. Maybe we'll throw in a manicure and pedicure. I don't know maybe just a good massage. "Not all that; you know what I really mean? "No I don't." You know; when are you going to put me back out?" "Back out?" "You know, back to work." I finally caught on but decided to play the dumb farmer. She'd been drifting away from her whore persona, but something had triggered a return. I needed to deflect this, "It's a big farm. I don't know what you'd be good at yet. There are the horses; I have roadside stands..." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 03 The Curse of the Scots, Part Three. A confused man and two tormented women. Cayden has some thoughts: I'd been thinking about what's been happening to me; I mean the inconsistencies. I've known this woman just four days: I feel my life is being changed, and I'm not sure if it makes any sense. I remember an old movie; something called 'People Will Talk'. It starred these old movie actors Cary Grant and Jeanne Craine. He was this doctor who met and fell in love some girl half his age; it all happened in just a few days. The whole thing really didn't make any sense; it was just a movie anyway. I mean I'm not falling in love, but I know I feel something. I think she feels something too. Who knows? Hell, my life is shit anyway. ++++++++++ It's Holy Thursday, and Caprice is deep in thought. Cayden is such an asshole. He thinks he can rebuild my body and I'll miraculously become something different. He doesn't get it. He just doesn't get it. I'm a whore. That's all I'm good for. I could never get back...back...back to...oh whatever. Oh God, who cares? ++++++++++ Cayden gets the ball rolling! "Come on. You can't sleep away the whole day!" Caprice rolled over and looked at the clock; it was past noon, "Oh." "Come on. Get up girl. I want to show you the farm," I opened the closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and an oxford button down shirt. I glanced back at the drowsy woman, "Up, up now, the day's already half over." I watched as she pulled herself off the bed and went to the bureau. She yanked out a pair of panties and a bra. After slipping them on she pulled on the jeans and the shirt. She looked around, "I don't have any socks." I faked a grimace, "Damn, you can't remember everything. Just slip the tennis shoes on without socks today." Dressed, hair combed, and face scrubbed she followed me to the big pick-up. I helped her in. I walked around and climbed in on my side and said, "Ready?" She was in kind of a grumpy mood. Inwardly I thought it was funny; just a few days ago she was scared shitless. She looked at me and said, "What, you going to show me around the Ponderosa?" I laughed, "Nope, South Fork!" She laughed too. For the next hour and a half I drove her up and down and around the farm. I showed her the barns, the horses, the chicken houses, where the swine were, and the two steers. I drove her out to where I was getting ready to put in some corn, and then I took her to my river front property where I pulled up a crab pot. It was empty. I parked the truck at an overlook by the river, "What do you think?" She was grinning. I thought she really looked pretty, maybe even a little happy, she said, "Well Pa; the only things that's missing is a woman and a passel of kids." I laughed, "Tell me Ma, you fertile?" I could tell she didn't think that was so funny. Her brow furrowed all up, "Remember what I am. I never kiss on the lips, and nobody gets in here," she pointed to her bush, "without a condom." Then she added, I'm surprised I haven't started my period, what I've been off the pill several days." "You can have children?" She rubbed her abdomen; then cupped her breasts, "I missed my period a few times. Twice they took me to a doctor, I guess he was a doctor, he cleaned me out and I was back to work in a day, so I guess nobody's tied or cut my tubes." "You ever have someone special? I mean someone other than a pimp. Someone you might have loved?" "That's too personal." "So there was someone once." "No, I thought he was, but I was wrong." "When was that?" "I don't remember." I scratched my face. I knew I'd have to shave again before we went to church, "You ever think about having children?" "No, I hate children. I've seen whores with children. They're dirty little things; runny noses, shitty diapers, crying all the time. They're damned inconvenient. They get in the way." "Tell me Caprice what do you like to do?" "This is bull shit. What do you think I like. Remember me; the whore? I like getting fucked up the ass! I like licking shit smeared dicks. I like being fucked over and over and over all night till they end up pouring motor oil up my ass and in my filthy cunt to keep me lubricated. I like getting tied up and having four or five men piss all over me. Then I like getting up early the next morning and sucking off every guy who slept over. I like telling seventy and eighty year old men how marvelous they are." "Ok, I'm sorry. You don't have say any more." "No I want to. You ever see a woman strapped in a harness and given the great opportunity to happily to pull a man around in a wagon. You ever had anyone put you in a box and fill it with water till you think you're going to drown? How about being staked out on a bed all night and then get fucked by so many men you lose count? How about wearing a butt plug all day long or running around naked in some field while a bunch of old men shoot at you with paint ball guns? That's even more fun in the winter when there's snow on the ground!" I reached over and grabbed her wrist, "Caprice that's..." She must have panicked. She yanked her hand away. Jumped out of the truck and started to run. I didn't know where she thought she was going, or what she was running from. I did know I had to catch her before she hurt herself. I guessed she just wanted to get away, get away maybe from me, away my questions. I checked to make sure the truck was in park, and the emergency brake was on. I climbed out of my side of the truck and took off after her. For a woman who'd been brutally beaten just a few days before, and who'd hardly had anything to eat she was pretty fast. It took me close to a hundred yards before I caught her. I got up to her, tried to catch and hold her, but ended up tackling her. I tackled her and got her on the ground. She started screaming and yelling. She kicked at me. She tried to bite me. For a recently beaten woman I never witnessed so much energy. Then just as quickly as she started to fight she stopped. I watched as she burst into tears. Great big tears rolled out of her eyes. I'd never heard such sadness. It was horrible! She was pathetic. At last, just as fast as the fighting and the crying it all stopped. She just lay there under me on the ground. I felt her slowly curl into a fetal ball. The anger that had been followed by pain had vanished; she was completely pliant, listless. Her eyes had lost all emotion. It was like she was dead. I got scared, "Caprice. Caprice? Caprice!" I pulled her up and held her as tightly as I could. I tried to get her to respond, to listen, to say something, anything. I even shook her a little bit. She was just there in my arms like some kind of zombie. I didn't know what to do. Slowly she seemed to come back. It was like she'd been in some trance, or far away someplace. She started to stir again. I held her in my arms. I put my hand on her cheek, "Caprice, you all right?" She looked at me all bewildered, "I don't remember what happened. I'd been running away. Cayden caught me. No, you're Cayden. I was in your arms. Cayden, what happened?" I told her, "I don't know. You ran. I caught you. You started to fight, then you started to cry, and then you just...well you just like disappeared. It was like you were gone." "I remember you were asking me some questions, something about children, babies. Yes, you said something about children. I think I might have had a child, maybe I was just pregnant. I think they took it away, or killed it or something, or it might have died. They wanted to tie my tubes, but I wouldn't let then. I remember I wouldn't sign the papers. I know they punished me for that. I don't remember." They punished you? What did they do?" "I don't remember." "You say you had a child?" "I think...I don't remember." "You think they took your child away?" "Yes. No. I don't remember. I don't remember. I just don't remember!" "They must have really hurt you." "I can't remember. Please don't ask me any more questions." I kept holding her in my arms. I took her two cheeks in my right hand and pulled her close. I kissed her cheeks, her nose. I kissed her lips, she tried to turn away, but I wouldn't let her. I kissed her again. "Stop...please." I smiled, I had to lighten things up "Hey, look at the time. If we're going to church we need to get back," I got up and helped her up, "Come on, let's get back to the truck and head on home," I didn't know what happened, but I knew we had to try to get beyond whatever it was. I led her back to the truck. She was really like listless. Then she started talking again. It was kind of incoherent. She said, "I heard what you said. You said we were going home. You don't mean it. It's a trick. Tomorrow, or Monday after Easter I'll be back at work. You'll put me some place, and I'll be back at work." I was stunned, "Caprice nobody's going to make you do anything you don't want to do," I could tell she didn't believe me. I wondered who I was talking to. ++++++++++ Back at Angie's; it's Angie, Emily, and Mrs. Bradford. I checked the clock. It was close to 6:00 p.m. I called back through the hall to the kitchen, "Mom I'm going out with Bernard tonight. Don't wait up." I ran out the door and jumped in his truck. I don't care much for Bernard; he can be mean, but he keeps me occupied. One thing; I know Cayden can't stand him. It's kind of cool knowing whenever I'm with Bernard Cayden's pissed off. Cayden was my husband until my dad made me sign the divorce papers he'd had drawn up. I guess dad was right. Cayden was a good worker; he just wasn't any good for me. I loved him so much. When I was in school the only time boys paid any attention to me was when they needed help with their homework or when they wanted to make fun of someone. Cayden's a year older than me. I'd seen him around ever since I could remember. He's always been handsome; the girls all liked him. I had a terrible crush on him when he was in high school, but he never even knew I was alive. He'd drive by my house on his way to school. I had to walk to school. Sometimes he'd drive right by in his pick-up. He never even noticed me. He noticed me once though. It was the year after he graduated and I was a senior. I know I'm not pretty, and my body never developed like other girls. All my girlfriends got boobs and hips and stuff. All I got was older. Well at least I never got acne. I remember it was afterschool one afternoon and I was on my way home, walking of course. There were several boys standing around on the edge of the school's property. They were all talking and carrying on. Cayden was with them. I tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. I didn't want anyone, especially Cayden, to notice me. One of the boys in the group saw me coming and he yelled, "Hey Angie, you're so ugly it's pathetic!" All the other boys laughed, Cayden didn't. He walked over to his pick-up; he opened the cab door, and asked, "Angie, you need a ride home?" Of course I got right in. All the other boys just watched as Cayden helped me in and closed the door. He even helped me buckle my seat belt. That was all it took. I fell madly and deeply in love. Cayden started dating me. At first he took me to nice places. We went to the movies, and he'd buy me popcorn and a soda. He took me to the beach, he'd set up an umbrella, and we'd sun bathe. He'd go get pizza and cokes, and we'd sit on a blanket and eat on the beach. This was something only pretty girls did, and here I was, this woman in a child's body, with the coolest boy in the county. We'd lie there on the blanket and make out. He tried to feel me up. At first I wouldn't let him, but in the end he got to feel of me. I recall the first time. He was groping all around and I heard him mutter, "Where's it at," he was looking for a boob. I rolled away and started to cry. Cayden, he got real upset. He pulled me back over toward him and told me size didn't matter. He said I had all he wanted; that made me cry even more. He held me in his arms, he kissed all over my face, and he told me he loved me. He said big tits were overrated. He said I had all he wanted. He said that a couple times. He said he'd take care of me, love me, and protect me for always. My dreams had come true; well at least for a while. Sometime around the end of the summer after my senior year Cayden started to change. I was supposed to go away to college, but he'd talked me out of it. It made my parents mad, but I didn't care. Cayden had a farm, he had money, and I was convinced he loved me. I was actually going to get the happily ever after every girl dreams of. All I wanted to do was be with him, but something went wrong. ++++++++++ I keep reminiscing while I'm in Bernard's truck. So I'm in this truck with Bernard. I have Cayden's baby, but I won't let him near her. I don't know what went wrong. Cayden had been so good; then he got mean. I'm small, and Cayden well he's big, at least a whole lot bigger than me. I used to like it when he sat me on his lap and wrapped his arms around me. He'd take his hands; his hands are big, and he'd softly rub them over my body. Mostly he did it outside my clothes, but sometimes he'd unbutton my blouse and rub his big hands all up and down my back and chest. After he started dating me exclusively he told me I wasn't allowed to wear bras anymore. He said he liked to see the little bit I had bounce around under my clothes. He said he liked to see my nipples stick out against my blouse. He'd nibble and kiss on my nipples until they perked up; then he'd suck on them. I don't have much in the boob department, and he could suck a whole boob in his mouth. Pretty soon I wasn't permitted to wear panties or pantyhose. Then he said I couldn't wear slacks or jeans. I could only wear skirts, preferably minis, or dresses. He said he liked the idea that I'd always be readily accessible. That all started shortly after I let him get me the first time. Sometimes I'd be sitting beside him in his pick-up, and he'd pull me over on his lap and slide his thing inside me. It hurt; it always hurt. We did it once while we were at a stop light. By then I was always so hot for him I did anything he wanted. I said he had big hands. He could wrap his hand almost completely around my neck. Once while we were stopped in traffic he wrapped his right hand around my neck while he unzipped his pants with his left. He pulled out his thing and slowly pushed my head down so I had to put it in my mouth. Then he held my hair and kept pushing my head up and down until he ejaculated in my mouth. I had to swallow all his stuff. I coughed. It tasted awful. I don't know why, but he kept getting worse and worse. He started calling me his little whore whenever we were out. He'd say that in front of other people. Then the worst possible thing happened and all the bad things stopped. One night we were out in his pick-up and we'd parked down by the ocean. The waves were crashing really loud that night. He got a blanket and carried me and the blanket down to the beach. I had to lock my legs around his waist while he wrapped his left arm around my lower back. That's how he carried me that night. He put me down and laid out the blanket. Then he ordered me to take off all my clothes and lay down on the blanket. By then I was more afraid than in love with him so I always did what he told me to do without question. I wasn't afraid that he'd hit me or anything; I was afraid he'd get mad and stop seeing me. I mean I loved him so much that if he told me to shoot myself I would have done it. He told me to get on my hands and knees. I figured he was going to do me doggie style; we'd done it before, and though it hurt, like I said it always hurt, I always let him do it. This time though he said he was going to do my ass. I asked him not to, but he said I was his and he would do as he pleased. He got out some kind of gelatin; put it on his fingers and pushed them way up my rectum. I cried out. It really hurt. He laughed. Then he got behind me. I begged him not to do it, but he only laughed louder. He pushed his penis way up inside my ass. He was really hard. I never felt him be so big or so hard. I'd never felt such excruciating pain before. I screamed, and I started to cry. It hurt so much I just couldn't stop crying. He only pushed inside one time and stopped. He went way up inside my body. I could feel myself being torn inside; I thought I was being split apart. I started to bleed. I couldn't see the blood, but I felt it. Just that fast he pulled out of me and started crying. He swept me up in his arms and just kept crying. He held and hugged me so tight I thought I was going to suffocate. He said he was sorry. He kept apologizing; he kept telling me he didn't know why he did it. He just said he only did it because he wanted to hurt me. He kept saying he had to punish me. I still don't know what I did wrong. I loved him so much I swear he could've done anything to me. I would have died for him if he asked me to. We both sat there on the blanket and cried for like a half an hour. Then he picked me up and carried me like a baby back to the truck. That was the night he asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes. A few weeks later we got married, but by then I was so deep into alcohol and drugs it was like I was lost in another world. So here I am bouncing along toward the Wagon Wheel in Bernard Keith's truck. I hope Cayden finds out. I hope it makes him mad. I don't know why I want that, but I really do. I want him to be so pissed he'll find me and give me a good beating. Sometimes he used to spank my ass. I know I deserve a good spanking now. ++++++++++ The other girl. Back inside the small 1960's red brick ranch house with the peeling paint on the front door, proof the house was in disrepair, a little girl looked out her mommy's bedroom window as her mommy jumped in the man's truck and rode away. She looked down at the raggedy old box she clutched tightly in her hands. This had been her mommy's game when she was little. Mommy promised she would teach her how to play. The box lid was scratched and worn. Someone had once drawn a stick picture of a girl on it, but somebody else had taken a pen and scribbled over it. Dried up masking tape still barely held two of the top's corners together; the title on box top read Candy Land. Mommy promised she would teach her to play one day. Emily carefully put the box down on the old hardwood floor. She didn't know how to play, but she'd played with the board and the cards before. She took off the lid, collected the cards, and started to lay them out in neat rows across the board; "one for mommy, one for grand-mommy, and one for me..." ++++++++++ Cayden gets a call. I got a call from Mrs. Bradford. She said Angie was headed to the Wagon Wheel with Bernard. She sounded scared. She said Angie really got plucked when she saw Caprice in my truck. The idea that she was out with Bernard again really tore my ass. She had my child, and Emily was getting old enough now to start to understand what was going on. She'd be asking questions soon, and I wanted Angie to be able to give her the right answers. She wouldn't be able to do that if she was off drunk with a bum like Bernard Keith. Right away I called Del. He didn't like it when I asked him to help me. He said he had plans, but I begged him to go down to the Wagon Wheel and keep an eye on things. He tried to bail by telling me he was still only nineteen and under the legal limit. I laughed, but promised I'd make it up to him if he kept a watch out tonight. He said he would. Del's a great kid. So I ruined Del's evening; now it was time for Caprice and I to go to church and probably ruin a lot of other peoples' evening too. The Curse of the Scots Ch. 03 I was dressed in a summer weight tan suit with a blue shirt, dark tie, and a pair of brown wing tips that hurt worse than a bear trap. Caprice came out in her salmon jacket, skirt and blouse. Like the first time I thought I would shit my pants, "Jesus Caprice you're so beautiful, you're tangible proof there is a god." I watched her, she blushed. Here was this woman who was supposed to be some old whore, and she looked beautiful. I started feeling like a twelve year old. I know I was a virgin once; that's how she made me feel. She did another pirouette. She knew I liked it. She looked at me and got all funny, "There's something about you. I mean there's something that makes you different. You're not like other men. I smiled, "Well I'm not gay if that's what you're thinking." She replied, "No I know that, but what I mean is for some stupid reason I keep thinking it's important that I please you. I don't mean like when I did things for other men. I mean you make me want to make you smile." I smiled. I couldn't tell if she meant it or if it was just whore talk, "See I'm smiling." She added, "Can I say something and not have you think I'm lying?" I thought, 'She must have read the look on my face.' I responded, "If you're going to tell me I'm handsome go ahead lie away." "Well you are handsome. I thought you were handsome the first time I saw you. When I saw you playing cards I liked you right away. I could tell you didn't belong there. I knew they planned on hurting you and getting all your money. But you're not as smart as you think you are. I knew what your down cards were. I let Vince think he had you beat. I gave you that pot." I hadn't known that. I thought I'd kept things pretty tight, "You almost got killed doing it." "Yeah, Vince took it kind of personally. He was pretty mean most of the time anyway, but the thing with the bag and the belt was the worst. He used to punch on me for no reason. He treated me worse than any of the other girls. He used to make me sleep on the floor beside his bed. Sometimes he'd chain me by the neck to the floor so I'd be ready to suck him off when he woke up." I was surprised by what she told me, "You'd go back to him knowing that?" "Cayden I don't have to now. You own me." "I told you I'm not a pimp. I don't own you or anyone. No one owns you." "Cayden I don't know what else to do. I don't know how to do anything. Who wants an old whore?" Dr. Deane didn't think you were old. He pegged you for thirty right away. Thirty, that's young Caprice." "I'd like to do you tonight when we get back from church." "Why?" "For one I think you need it. Two I want to start paying you back. Three I like you. I wouldn't be doing it as a whore. It would be just to make you feel good." "You want to make me feel good. Think about something besides being a whore." "Fuck you Cayden." "I'd like to. I think you're beautiful, but if I ever did I'd want it to mean something more than just a thank you." "It would mean a lot to me if I could get you off tonight." I grabbed my keys, "Come on; you can get me off by helping me stay on key when we sing tonight." Something must have clicked in her mind. Her eyes seemed to light up. She said, "I can do that." "What you were a singer or something once I suppose?" "Maybe, I think so. I don't remember." I went and got the raincoat I'd bought her, "Here let me help you get this on. I don't want you to catch cold." I chuckled, "You might get hoarse and then I'd lose my singing partner." I helped her into her coat, helped her through the door, and into the truck. I got in on my side, started the engine, and we headed off to church. All the way over all kinds of thoughts kept running through my head. Should I let myself be seduced by the woman beside me? God but she was beautiful, and Jesus knew I was horny. How would Del do at the Wagon Wheel? I hoped Angie didn't get too drunk, and if she did I hoped Bernard didn't do anything to hurt her. Was Mrs. Bradford right? Should someone, namely me, file a complaint against Angie, and who could I get to help me find her a job. I mean if she reacted at all responsibly to a complaint by me. If I filed a complaint who could we turn to get Angie some much needed counseling? I was afraid to leave it just with Social Services. I knew the supervisor there, and she was a nasty bitch who'd already been snooping around Angie trying to figure out how to separate my poor ex-wife from my daughter. Last, I worried about what would happen to me. I felt more and more as if I was becoming like the people who raised me, and I didn't want to end up just another isolated old man like John and Mitchell living alone on a big farm with plenty of money and fanning the sheets every night because no one cared enough about me to share their life with me. Maybe I was being selfish, and God I knew I was still young, but I didn't want to die alone and have somebody find my body all stiff and cold days after I dropped dead. I remember when they told me about when Uncle John had died. Uncle Mitchell found him behind one of the sheds. They said he must have been sharpening an axe on one of the grinders when he had a heart attack. The doctor who filled out the death certificate said he most likely died instantly, or almost anyway. He'd been dead at least a whole day before Uncle Mitchell found him. He'd died like he'd lived, alone with no friends and hardly anyone to mourn him. John lived in a house with his brother, sisters, me, and his mother, but he might as well have lived all alone. All he did was work. For every problem he faced there was only one solution and that was to work. No one missed him. At the end, after his funeral they told me everyone, my brothers and Mitchell, were arguing over things like who'd get John's boots, who would get his double barreled shotgun. They even argued over a half empty box of cartridges. I realized every day I was getting more and more like Uncle John and Uncle Mitchell. All I did was work. I didn't want to end up like them. It scared me. I wanted a wife and kids. I wanted big family dinners with me at the head of the table surveying my children while they ate and talked and played. And most of all I wanted a wife; someone I could share the same hopes and dreams and fears and needs with. I wanted to wake up each morning with a warm loving caring woman beside me; someone I could love and care about too. Oh God there had to be somebody out there who'd want me just for me! Was that asking too much? ++++++++++ How Del helped Cayden out. My girlfriend wasn't happy about my decision to help Uncle Cayden, but she understood. Everybody who mattered was worried about Angie. People used to blame Cayden for Angie's messed up condition, but since he'd been back from the army only the blind couldn't see how much he tried to help her. Damn anybody could see, if he didn't love her, he still cared about her enough to want her safe and sound. I was one of those who knew, Angie was all Uncle Cayden thought about. She drove him crazy. When I got to the Wagon Wheel I saw Bernard's pick-up was already there. He'd parked right in the middle of a bunch of cars and trucks me and my friends called 'Rat's Row', this was a group of guys who spent most of their time either drunk or in jail. I bet they were the biggest group of liars and losers on the Peninsula. They included Dane Lynch, Paul Satterfield, Brian Harmon, 'Squirrely' Red Combs, and of course the biggest loser of all Bernard Keith. I didn't have anything to do with any of them. My dad warned me if he ever saw me with them he'd kick the shit out of me, and take my car keys away. I parked my car, went inside and ordered a coke. I saw Angie over at a corner table. Bernard had his arm slouched all over her shoulder and one hand was already in her blouse. Angie saw me too; she knew why I was here. She made a big show of letting Bernard feel on her. ++++++++++ Angie saw Del at the Wagon Wheel. I saw Del. He's Cayden's nephew; really a nice kid. I know I've got Cayden's number now. I bet before I finish here tonight Cayden will have enough on his mind to make him squirm for a week, and I'm sure I'll be able to push that new woman back into the hole she came from. I looked at Bernard. I pushed his hand out of my blouse, "Excuse me boys," I ambled over to where Del was seated, "What takes you out on a night like this?" Del replied, "Oh I just thought I'd drop in and have a soda. What about you?" I smiled and put my hand on his forearm, "I like the company," I looked over toward Bernard. "I sure hope you don't get any black eyes tonight." I didn't like that much, "I'm not with your guy tonight." "Cayden never hit you Angie; he may have done some pretty despicable things, but he never hit you." "You sure?" "Come on Angie, I know Cayden. You know Cayden. You ought to give him a break. Let him see his daughter." "Emily's not his daughter. She's my daughter. He'll never get his hands on her." "Damn it Angie. Cayden's her daddy. Everybody knows it. He's a good man. He'd be good to you if you'd let him. He'd take care of both of you, and you know it. Hell girl, he might even agree to marry you again." "Oh yeah tell me, and what about the new redhead?" "You mean Caprice," Del exaggerated, "she's a mighty fine looking lady. I think Cayden's taken a shine to her." I'd heard enough, "You can tell Cayden he can have his new sweetie. Tell him I said he could fuck off." Del took a sip of his soda, "I'll do that." I strolled back toward Bernard. I tried extra hard to provocatively swing what little I had. No one in the tavern was impressed; least of all Del. I winked at Bernard. Who did the son-of-a-bitch think he was bringing a new woman into our lives; a chill crossed up my back and spine; what if he'd found somebody? I sat back beside Bernard and pressed my chest against his arm, "I need a drink." Bernard laughed, "It's your turn to buy bitch." I reached in my purse and pulled out a five, "Here, get me a Jim Beam on ice." "Get it yourself, and while you're up there get me another Bud." I got up and walked back to the bar to buy myself a Jim Beam and Bernard a beer. ++++++++++ Cayden takes Caprice to church. I took Caprice's arm and helped her in the front door of the church. As we stepped into the narthex we were greeted, or should I say accosted by Mrs. Alice Stump. Mrs. Stump is an octogenarian, a real eighties lady. Her family is one of the anchors of the church. I'd joined her Methodist Church when I found out Angie belonged there. I've known Mrs. Stump all my life; she's one of those people you just have to like. I remember when I was in the eleventh grade our school's vice-principal decided I shouldn't be allowed to park my truck on the school parking lot. His reasons didn't make any sense to me at the time; they had something to do with the cooler of beer I kept in the cab. Hell, I figured, my truck, my cooler, my beer, what's it to him? Anyway without a place to park I'd have to walk. I stopped by Mrs. Stump's, she lived right across the street from the school, and we had a nice talk. I told her what Mr. Abbot, the V.P., said and why. Mrs. Stump told me I could park my truck in her drive any time I wanted. Did that ever piss Abbot off! Mrs. Stump grabbed my arm and twisted me around before I got two feet inside the church, "Cayden; my you look nice. Who's the charming lady?" I told her, "Hi Mrs. Stump. This is my friend Caprice Fischer. She's visiting from out of state. She's an old army friend. Caprice this is Mrs. Stump. She's a sweet lady; and I know you'll like her." Mrs. Stump took the young woman's hand, "Caprice; what a beautiful name, and aren't you as pretty as a flower in May? An army friend of Cayden's, I love your hair. Those eyes, they're green," she added, "You a Methodist? You aren't Catholic are you?" Caprice replied, "No, I'm not Catholic, Presbyterian actually." That surprised me. How did she know she was a Presbyterian? Where did that slip out? She hadn't said anything to me about any churches. I didn't think she'd ever been to church much, what being what she was, but I might be wrong, she had to have gone somewhere otherwise how did she know about the Sand-dollar? Something was fishy; fishy like in Fischer. Something was odd. How did she come up with a last name like that? I mean all of a sudden the way she did. The old lady turned back to me, "You be nice to her Cayden. She's looks adorable." I felt like I was back in high school, "Yes ma'am, but we're just good friends." Mrs. Stump handed each of us a bulletin, "Enjoy the service." I took Caprice's arm again and we walked into the sanctuary and took a seat in one of the central pews. Another older lady, Mrs. McNeal started playing the organ. She only missed a few notes. Caprice and I sat quietly and perused the bulletin. I watched Caprice as she surveyed the bulletin; something was wrong, she acted like she couldn't read it. I asked, "Are you all right. Can you read?" "Of course I can read; the lighting is just poor." The church lighting was fine. People were still filing in. I didn't think she could read. I wondered if she needed glasses, "Caprice you can't see the print can you?" "No it's a little blurred. I guess I forgot my glasses." She didn't have any glasses, "Caprice when I brought you home you didn't have any glasses." She responded with a mixed confused, concerned, and maybe a little peeved look. I told her, "Well I guess glasses are another thing we'll have to add to the list," then she really surprised me. She presented me another of her special beauteous smiles. I didn't think it was a whore smile. Whores were good at that sort of thing. I hoped it was a real smile. I really liked it when she smiled like that, I told her, "I'll call an optometrist Monday." She gave me that funny sort of smile, she murmured, "That would be helpful." I looked around; the church didn't look half bad. I guessed maybe eighteen maybe twenty people, a pretty good number for a service like this. The tone of the music changed; then Pastor Cook came down the aisle. Pastor Bill Cook was an older gentleman. He'd been pastor here for about ten years; he'd come down from a church about twenty miles away. Methodist pastors don't stay at one church forever. Pastor Cook made his welcoming remarks, read off a list of names of people we were to pray for, and looked over at me. I gave him a discreet signal not to ask if there were any visitors. He ignored me, "Do we have any visitors this evening?" I looked at Caprice. I saw she was embarrassed. We were stuck. I raised my hand. Pastor Cook smiled, "Ah one of our newer members Cayden McLeish has brought someone. Care to introduce us Cayden?" I stood up and looked down at Caprice. The lighting on her hair and face made her look angelic; the cut of her blouse revealed just enough décolletage to cause my manhood to announce its presence. Just what I needed; to be caught standing with a boner in the middle of church. "This is my friend from the army Caprice Fischer," Caprice stood up and sat right back down. The graceful manner in which she rose and sat, the way her breasts seemed to gently swirl under her jacket and blouse caused further alarm bells to go off. I looked around and saw a bunch of smiling people. I hated this shit. I sat back down before the little soldier in my pants made a complete fool of me. The service, being Holy Thursday, was dark and somber. The hymns were cloudy and sad. Pastor Cook's sermon was short; he led the congregation through the church calendar starting with Christmas to Easter Sunday. I was moved. I glanced at Caprice and could tell she was affected too. Of course we had communion. I was surprised, Caprice, without glasses, couldn't read the hymns, nor could she read the Affirmation of Faith, or any of the Communion Liturgy, but she knew every word from memory. When we knelt at the front for the stuff we could get a thing of wine or grape juice. She got grape juice; so did I. Imagine a whore with that kind of restraint and spiritual knowledge; something wasn't right. I'd gotten Dr. Deane to get some DNA on her for a possible check, but then the thought hit me, what about fingerprints. I couldn't fathom a whore without a criminal record. I had to get something she used, a glass or something, and take it to the State Police. I had to find out who she really was. The service ended with the stripping of the altar. Everyone left in silence. Caprice and I drove home without a word being exchanged. I wanted to say something. I wanted to quiz her about what she knew, but she looked so peaceful I decided to leave her alone. We got home about 9:00 p.m. Caprice went to the bedroom, changed clothes, and came out in a pair of pajamas, the same pair she'd worn the other night. She'd said she'd been a fluffer; a woman who got older men off by looking all sweet and innocent. She sure looked the part tonight; it made me mad. I couldn't be sure if she was being herself or if she was playing a part. I kept my concerns to myself. ++++++++++ It was right after church and Caprice wanted to do something for Cayden. I wanted to show Cayden that I appreciated what he'd done for me so far. I thought he was setting something up. I've seen it a thousand times; the guy acts all sweet and nice, and then the other shoe drops. Cayden doesn't fit the mold. First he really is a farmer. Second I haven't met anybody that would fit the typical pimp's sidekick, no fawning drooling sycophants, no muscle bound bodyguards, no greasy schemers. Jesus the only people he knows are regular types; a grandmother, a regular nephew, a colored girl he helped get through college, old ladies at church. I was right about him when he was playing cards; he's different, he's a real person. I walked over to where Cayden was seated at the sofa. He was busy with the remote flicking through the channels when I knelt in front of him. ++++++++++ Cayden looked at Caprice; Jesus she was beautiful. I don't care if she is an old whore, she's beautiful. Those are the most perfect breasts I've seen in years; perfect pears with luscious aureole and nipples that are the perfect shade and shape. Those big green eyes, and that hair, Christ that hair, and that mouth, there ought to be a law. She reached up and placed her right hand on the inside of my thigh. She saw I had a hard on. She asked me, "Can I help you relax?" Damn look at those hands, those long slender fingers; I'm going to have an accident right now in my pants, "No," I reached down and pulled her to the couch by her armpits, "I'd like it, I really would, but it wouldn't be right. I don't feel good about it." "Why, is it because I'm a whore?" "Yeah, I guess that's it. Jesus Caprice you're heavenly, but I'm not ready for you. I don't know who you are." She sat beside me and put her hands in her lap, "I see." "No you don't see. God I want you. I think you're everything any man could want, but I don't think it's exactly what I want." "What do you mean?" "Come on Caprice isn't your real name." She changed the subject, "Are you serious about what you said you're going to do for me?" "What about the teeth?" "And the other things too." "You mean your rectum, vagina, and getting you glasses. Yes I mean it." "Why?" "Does it matter?" "I think so." "Look when I found you your life didn't look too promising. I've got all is property, money up the ass, and no one to share it with. What's the difference if I drop a few dollars to make your situation a little better?" "I could say the same. Though everyone I've met that knows you likes you, you act like this terribly lonely man. Look at me. All I've got is a busted ass, a sloppy cunt and a mouth full of broken teeth. What's the difference if I say I want to take your dick in my mouth and give you a little pleasure?" The Curse of the Scots Ch. 03 I put my arm around her. I leaned around and kissed her on the cheek, "Let's compromise. I'll lay my head in your lap, and we'll watch television together." She said, "That's not what I had in mind." I lay my head down. I wrapped my left arm around behind her slim waist and put my right hand on her left thigh, "You smell good." She leaned back, "OK, give me the remote." I handed her the remote control, and she started grazing through the stations till she found something she liked. It was an old Meryl Streep Pierce Brosnan movie, something dumb, something called Mama Mia. She sat while I lay down, and we started to watch it together. We didn't watch it long. The way I was laying I could smell her pussy; it smelled good. I started softly caressing her left thigh with my hand, while I used my right hand, though it was trapped behind her back, to rub her left side. Caprice leaned down and kissed my cheek. ++++++++++ My cell phone rang! "Excuse me; that's probably Del." Caprice responded, "Del?" "Yeah he's keeping an eye on Angie, Emily's mom, my ex-wife, I got up and walked to the dining room table, picked it up, and flipped it open. It was Del. I hit the appropriate button, "Del, what is it?" "You better get down here. Bernard took her in the back room." "The pool room?" "She acted like she didn't want to go. I think he's got something up his sleeve. His whole posse's back there with him." "Jesus shit!" "What's the matter," asked Caprice? "Angie; she went to the Wagon Wheel. It's a tavern not far from here. She's there with the asshole who beat her up a few days ago. Del says they've got her in the back room." "You've got to go to her." "This sucks. There's a half dozen of them." "You could call the police?" "They won't do anything." "You have friends." "No, it's just me and Del, but I can't ask him." "I'll go." "You, what could you do?" "I don't know something." I looked at her. She meant it, "OK, grab your coat." Two minutes later we were in the truck; twenty minutes after that we were parked outside the Wagon Wheel. Del was outside. He came up, "They took her in the back. I don't know, but I don't think anything's happened yet." I didn't wait, I couldn't, she was my wife, I started toward the front door. Del saw Caprice in the truck, "Hi Caprice, what are you doing here?" "I came to offer Cayden what help I could." Del looked back toward the front door of the tavern just in time to see Cayden go in, "He's a hard head. I called my dad, then everybody else in the family. Damn I wished Cayden would have waited..." Another truck and then another truck pulled up; altogether four men got out. What looked like the oldest man strode over to Del, "What the asshole couldn't wait?" "You know Cayden dad." Del's dad looked at the other three men, "Come on." Del waited outside with Caprice. Caprice asked Del, "Who are those men?" "They're Cayden's brothers." Caprice's eyes grew wide, "They..." Del smiled, "It's a family thing." ++++++++++ Inside the Wagon Wheel Cayden walked to the bar. I approached the bartender, "Elvis where's my wife?" He pointed to the door that led to the pool room. I didn't hesitate. I made straight for the door, opened it, and walked in. There on the pool table was my ex-wife. She still had her blouse and panties on, but the men had her slacks down around her ankles. One had his hand over her mouth, but I could still hear her muffled pleadings. Her face was awash in tears, and I could see vicious red marks around her wrists and arms where the men had been manhandling her. I stepped in front the of the small crowd, "Let her go." Bernard had one hand on her throat, and another over her mouth. She was squirming and choking, "Well look who's here; it's the Little Jew." The comment was greeted by the rough laughter of ten drunken men. Bernard went on, "What you here to save your ugly little whore ex-wife?" "I said let her go." Bernard dropped Angie and started toward me, "You're going to need more than what you've got you little twerp." From behind everyone heard another voice, a deeper, older, manlier voice respond, "He's got em." I heard the voice of my oldest brother. Bernard looked at the four men who'd piled through the pool room door, "Well looks like Cayden's brought the whole Kibbutz." I heard the shuffling behind me, but until I heard Bernard's remark I hadn't known all my brothers were there. Bernard looked about at his own friends, "Well?" It was Squirrely Red Combs who spoke, "Let her go Bernard." Bernard looked around at his friends. Though they outnumbered the McLiesh's by two to one, he saw no one wanted to take them on. He yanked Angie off the pool table, shredding her blouse as he did. He tossed her toward me, "Here, take the bitch." I reached forward and scooped up my sobbing ex-wife. Holding her in my arms I frowned at Bernard, "This is the last time; hear me?" Bernard just stood and glared at me; slowly the glare evaporated only to be replaced by a stupid grin, "Keep the worthless bitch. She's too ugly for me anyway." At last I looked down at my beleaguered ex-wife. Expecting to see a drunken fool, I realized she was as sober as a judge. I held her a little more tightly, "Let's get out of here," I turned to see my brothers. Not knowing what to say I said nothing; I nodded and walked through them. As I passed by and started toward the door I heard my oldest brother remark, "Always the asshole." I picked up my pace, and ran, that is almost ran, to and out the front door. Outside I found Del. Confused by the show of support from my brothers I, what was for me, made the penultimate concession, "I'm glad they were here." Del slapped me on the arm, "It's about family Cayden. Even shitheads like you should know that." I grunted and opened the passenger side door and then the door that opened on the rear of the cab. Caprice climbed in the back. I deposited my wife beside her, "Caprice this is my ex-wife. Her name is Angie. Angie this is Caprice; she's an old friend from the army." Caprice smiled, "Hi Angie." Angie had imbibed very little, but she still felt like she was about to get sick. All she said was, "Hi," then she started sniveling and weeping. I asked, "Where to Angie?" "I can't go home like this." "How about Pastor Cook's?" Angie sniffed, "Can't I go home with you?" I had the truck out on the gravel road. I glanced back in time to see my brothers and Del look at me drive away. My oldest brother had a real disgusted look on his face. 'Well', I figured, 'I fucked that up'. I swiveled around toward Angie, "All right." It would be a short drive, but I was still uncomfortable. Here I was driving alone in the front with my estranged divorced wife and a whore I'd recently bought sitting side by side in the back. I thought this was a real formula for trouble. The whore reached over and tried to pull Angie over. Angie pulled away, "You're Caprice aren't you." Caprice nodded, "And you're Cayden's ex-wife." Angie replied, "Yeah, he left me; he ran off and left me." Even though Angie still resisted Caprice tried to reach her again, "I've been told you have a little girl." "I do, and he," she directed her head and comment at me, "wants to steal her away from me. Well he's not getting her," she leaned forward so that she was up against my headrest. She yelled in my ear, "She's mine, and you'll never have her!" I swerved the truck hard to the right so that it was on the shoulder. Angie was thrown into Caprice's arms. I stopped, kicked down the emergency brake, turned my head and shook my finger at my former wife, "I didn't abandon you. I took you back to your parents, and I don't want to steal our daughter," I placed extra emphasis on the 'our'. "I only want to help out. For Christ's sake Angie she's mine too. Don't I have a right?" Angie started yelling, "You don't have any rights. You ran out on me! You dumped me off with my father. He made me a prisoner. I was trapped in his house. I couldn't go anywhere, do anything. Half the time he kept me locked in my room. Look at the windows; you've seen them! He put bars on the windows so I couldn't get out. That's what you did to me! She's my baby. She's all I've got." I started to say something. Caprice had her arms around my ex-wife. Angie shouted louder, "I loved you Cayden! I would have done anything for you! You left me home with those old people while you went out every night with that woman!" I tried to say something again, but she kept yelling. "I know all about her. You know who I mean, that Libby; yeah, that Libby woman who worked at the diner!" I finally got something in, "I never..." She cut me off; she was still yelling, but she was crying too, "You can't lie to me. I know everything. My dad told me. He told me about Libby. He told me when you got out you'd call Social Services and have them take my baby away. Ypu'd make them give her to you," she lunged at me, but I managed to pull back, "You can't have her. You can't ever have her!" Caprice pulled her back and wrapped her in a bear hug. She gave me a questioning but mildly accusative look. Angie stopped for a second; she sat in the back in Caprice's arms crying, but I knew this was the quiet before the storm. I needed to talk some sense into her before we got the back half of the hurricane, "Angie I didn't know about what your dad did. I mean about the bars and stuff. I never did anything with Libby except have a couple cups of coffee. I don't want to steal your baby," I saw she was getting ready to lash out again. I talked as fast as he could, "I don't want to steal Emily. I just want to be in her life. I want us to be together. God damn it Angie I want us to be a fucking family!" This is the end of part three. A note from the writer: I hope you've found this story enjoyable so far. There are four more parts. Remember this is about three people; Cayden, his ex-wife Angie, and a prostitute Cayden bought. Don't tear your ass if every now and then the primary focus shifts from one to another. Please leave your comments. I'm in your appraisals. The Curse of the Scots Ch. 04 They're in Cayden's truck, and Angie's mad as a hornet. The tsunami hit the beach! Angie broke free and crashed against the side cab door, "Let me out of here! I've got to get out!" She slammed back against Caprice. She swung out and hit the whore in the jaw, "I know you. I know who you are! You're here to get him and steal my baby," she started blathering and crying, "I know. I know. I know." Caprice tasted the blood where Angie hit her, "Angie that's so ridiculous," she wrestled Angie to the seat, "I'm a fucking whore. Cayden bought me a week ago. They were going to kill me and he bought me," she kept Angie down, "Angie why would you believe a man like your father, a man you say kept you locked in a room for three years?" Angie had wondered about that for a long time; she just never had an alternative to the things he'd said that made sense. Still tightly in Caprice's grip she looked up at Cayden and snarled, "I hate you. You know that." I stared at her. I'd heard it a hundred times before; it always hurt. Caprice tried to stay calm, "Let's go back to Cayden's. We'll take a shower. We'll find you something to wear. We'll all get a good night's sleep, she kept a tight hold on the smaller woman, "Tomorrow's Good Friday. There probably aren't any services, but we could go to church. We could pray about all this." Angie had been brought up and schooled in the church; prayer had always been an outlet, she calmed perceptibly. I hadn't had the churching Angie had, but I'd begun to see Caprice had also gotten quite a lot of it from somewhere, "I think Caprice is right. I've got some clothes that will fit you Angie." Angie was starting again, "Why would you have any of my clothes?" I slipped up, "I bought some stuff once right after I came home." Both women looked up in mild surprise. Caprice kept a tight hold on Angie. Angie let her. I restarted the truck, released the emergency brake, and pulled back on the road. Once we got back to my house I went upstairs to where I'd stored all the things having to do with Emily and Angie. I unlocked the bedroom door and went to the bureau. I pulled out all that stuff I'd bought for Angie. I got out the white blouse, slacks, panties, bra, socks and shoes. I laid them neatly on a chair, and then on a whim reopened Mitchell's sea chest. I just wanted to get another look at a couple of those pictures of my little girl. Just as I was about to put the lid back down I heard some shouting downstairs. I ran down. Caprice was holding my cell phone. She yelled at me, "That man Bernard went to Angie's mom's looking for Angie. He must have scared the lady to death. She called here looking for Angie. I told her she was here and OK. The lady wants to see you right away." I was completely caught off guard; forgetting everything else I coughed out, "I left the clothes I got for Angie upstairs. You two can go get them. I'll go over to Mrs. Bradford's right away." Angie spoke up, "I want to go too." "No, you better stay here. I won't be more than an hour or so." Caprice gave Angie a sympathetic look, "It'll be all right. We can clean up and get ready for bed." I could see Angie wasn't happy, but I was sure it was the best thing. I had an unlikely thought, 'This Caprice; she's a natural at helping people.' I shoved the thought aside, and grabbed my keys, "I'll be right back." Caprice took Angie's hand, "Come on let's go see what Cayden bought." Angie and Caprice went upstairs. When they got there they went into the small bedroom. Caprice said, "Look, here are the clothes," she held up the blouse. Trying to be upbeat she said, "This is really pretty." ++++++++++ Angie gets a peek at something she wasn't supposed to see. I wasn't interested in any old clothes Cayden might have bought me. I saw Uncle Mitchell's old sea chest. I knew Cayden, and I knew how he used that chest. I thought I might snoop around a little. The first thing I saw was this small stack of receipts Cayden must have just placed there. I picked them up, and immediately recognized them as the receipts for my and Emily's Easter Dresses as well as another receipt for my mom's dress. I started to dig deeper. Caprice saw me, "Hey what are you doing?" "Come here, look at this." Caprice walked over. Since she didn't have any glasses all she saw was a bunch of blurry papers, "I don't think we should be looking at any of this." Angie replied, "No look." "I can't see. I need glasses." Angie held up a bunch of papers, then a stack of pictures, "These are pictures of me and Emily, old pictures. And these are receipts. They're receipts for things I thought my mom had bought." "What do you mean?" Angie started to pull all the pictures and papers put of the chest. There were hundreds of things, "I thought. All this time I thought." "Thought what?" "All the clothes, the dance lessons, the money for her birthday parties; Cayden's been paying for everything." "I don't get it?" "No look, ever since Cayden's been back he's been buying everything. I should have known my mom didn't have the money; all my clothes, Emily's clothes, her presents, her Christmas presents. He's been buying it all. There's even a receipt for a pony here; a pony for Emily." "This is a good thing then." Angie started to tear up, "No this is terrible. All this time, all this time he's been..." "He's been looking out for you and your daughter." "I didn't know. What am I going to do?" "First let's put this stuff away; then let's go downstairs." After we repacked the trunk we went downstairs, took a bath, and got ready for bed. Then we went back to the living room to wait for Cayden. Caprice asked, "Are you going to tell him you found out?" "No, I know him, he'd only get mad. I've got to work this out my own way." "This changes things doesn't it?" "Yeah, I think so." ++++++++++ Cayden gets back home. I got back to my house after about an hour. I went inside to calm everybody down, "False alarm. Bernard drove by a couple times, but never stopped. I think my brothers put the fear of the Lord into him earlier. He might bitch and moan, but I doubt if anything will come of it. Angie looked at Caprice, then at Cayden, "We're going to bed." "You two become friends while I was gone?" Caprice answered, "You'd be surprised." "What's that supposed to mean?" Angie smiled, "It's a secret." Angie and Caprice left Cayden in the living room. Once in the bedroom they got undressed and fell in bed together. Angie lay beside Caprice in the big bed, "Tell me Caprice who are you. I mean who are you really?" Caprice replied, "You don't know anything about me do you," she hesitated then went on; "Let me tell you I'm a whore. He bought me and saved my life, but it's not about me, it's about you and him. I've been watching and listening to him. I think he hates himself. He hates himself because of something he's done to you. I don't know what it is. That's between you and him, but I know this. He cares deeply about you. I feel like I've lived a lifetime and it's only been what five days? I can't read them, but those receipts we saw...I mean...they're not normal. No, I mean they're exceptional." Angie lay there and listened. "Just a few days ago I was figuring how I could rip him off; now I don't know. You know what he wants to do? He wants to fix my teeth, my vagina, and my ass. He's going to get my eyes checked and buy me glasses. And you know what's scary? I don't think he expects anything for it. He's just doing it. I tell you Angie, if he's willing to do that for a worthless whore he's known for less than a week, what do you think he'd do for the mother of his kid and the woman he married?" "You think he really cares about me?" "Jesus Angie all you have to do is look at him. Every time he looks at you he gets all starry eyed. Oh he cares. I think he still loves you. I never had anybody look at me the way he looks at you. I'd give anything for someone like that. Why tonight when Del called; Cayden nearly shit his pants trying to get out the door to you." "I thought you were here to take him away from me. That's why I went out tonight." "You're a fool Angie. I don't know for sure, but I have a feeling nobody's getting him away from you except maybe you. Only you can kill the way he feels; nobody else can do that-just you." "What do you think I should do?" "I'll tell you your mother wanted Cayden to file a complaint so he could get your daughter. He wouldn't hear it. If I were you I'd get my shit together. I haven't heard much, but I think you're flirting with some real trouble. You should get some counseling. Find a job, a good job, and concentrate on being the woman you were when he first fell in love with you. And forget about the Libbys of the world. He doesn't even look at them. Hell I've been trying to get him to screw me all week. He won't even look at me." Angie rolled over and put her right hand on Caprice's cheek, "You say he might still love me? You see me. I'm flat, I have no ass. My legs are like sticks. I have about as much sex appeal as a slab of bacon." I moved closer, close enough that her mouth was right next to mine, "I've been around a lot of women; believe me Angie you have sex appeal." Angie just stared at the other woman; the woman with nice tits, a perfect ass, and shapely legs. I leaned forward. I gently pushed my lips against Angie's. Angie tried to look down and away, but I took my left hand and held her face so that our lips still touched, "Touch me Angie; touch my breasts." ++++++++++ Lives that intertwine. Angie tentatively reached out and placed her hand on my left breast. I pulled her closer. I leaned forward and kissed Angie's right nipple. It was warm and soft; it started to respond to my kisses. Angie reached up and pulled my head down. I kissed her again, then again, the second time she felt more courageous, she was more insistent. I could tell she'd never been with a woman before. My soft body next to hers was a first. I could tell that Angie felt awkward, she was scared, but her skin felt hot. I can't say for certain, but I have a hunch she's a natural submissive. I intended that tonight I would bring that part of her personality to life, "Kiss me back Angie. Touch my breasts." I was an expert when it came to a woman's body. I took her hand and helped her feel my breasts while I found her vagina. Angie shivered when I touched her. I reached up and inside with two fingers and found that special place just two inches inside the hood of her pussy. Angie felt me as I started to massage the top of her vagina; at first I moved slowly. I brushed the palms of my hands over the soft and wispy strands of her sparsely haired Mons. I pressed down. I manipulated the soft flesh inside her canal with two fingers while I used my thumb to press down on her hood. I steadily increased the pressure. I moved in a slow steady rhythm; always in a slow circular motion with my thumb, over and over her Mound of Venus. Angie was getting increasingly nervous, she felt so hot. I could tell she'd never been massaged like this before. She was quivering with excitement. I knew her feelings. I'd experienced them myself in the past; they were always indescribable. Tonight was to be Angie's turn. She responded to my fingers. I pressed down with the heel of my hand even as I curled my fingers up and back inside the smaller woman-child's canal. Angie pushed upward against me with her hips. When I released the tension she relaxed too. We were in true harmony. I was the bestower of sexual joy; she was the recipient. Angie had been dry, but I knew she felt herself getting wetter and wetter. My fingers excited her; I could tell she felt an incredible sensitivity. I knew in her mind she wanted me to stop; but at the same her body wanted me to press even harder. I kept holding Angie's head in my other hand. Angie wanted to kiss me, but I wouldn't let her. I let my short hair waft across her face. I knew it was soft; I knew it smelled like jasmine. I knew it excited her. I pulled my fingers out of her crease and lowered her face down to my vagina. I wanted to give her a taste, just a taste, of my juices. Then I forced her face and head back up. I slid down to her vagina. She felt my breath on her labia. I started kissing Angie's crease. I pressed in with my mouth and slid my tongue up along and between her slit. She was warm and wet. I knew my tongue and lips caused the most delicious sensations all along the exterior of her sweet wet labia. I started press in and to suck Angie's the interior walls. I nibbled at her clitoris. I pinched it with my teeth. I took it with my teeth and gently pulled outward and away from her body. Angie was shaking all over; she responded to the pull on her clitoris by arching her back upwards as if she could follow my mouth and teeth. I knew how everything was so sensitive for her. I was confident she'd never felt exactly this way before. I heard her as she whimpered then cried a little as she reached orgasm. She'd never had anything quite like this happen before, except maybe in a different way with Cayden! I reflected on what I knew. 'After all I am a whore; getting other people off has been my job. Women can have orgasms three different ways. They can masturbate, but that's the least. They can get off on a man, but a lot of times, because men are such bores, that can be a total a waste. Last they can get off with another woman; with the right woman that's the best, and I'm always the right woman that way.' Yeah I've whored out for women; it's not like I ever had a choice. She tried to move so she could get down to my vagina, but I was stronger and wouldn't let her. I made Angie feel weak; I made her feel helpless. Angie was becoming like putty in my hands. I climbed on top of my smaller weaker companion; I took my arms and moved my smaller more delicate companion's arms out and away from her body. I commanded her that she should not move her arms. I was the potter, Angie the clay. I straddled her waist with my legs. I wanted her to feel weak, dependent, submissive. I guess I'm a bitch. I always liked doing this. I started kissing her all over again. Angie tried to kiss me back, but I forced her head back down on the pillow. I kept her flat on her back. I wouldn't let her move. Angie was my hapless helpless girl-woman. Her small frail weak childlike body was mine to manipulate, caress, and torment. I kissed my tiny partner's sweet lips and then I caressed her modest little breasts with my mouth. I took each of her nipples in my mouth, I kissed each one. I put one of Angie's whole breasts in my mouth. I made her feel like I was swallowing it. I was gentle but firm. She was mine to do with as I willed. She needed to know I was mistress here; she was my plaything. God I ate this up! I licked my way back down to her navel, then to her abdomen; I tickled her with my eyelashes. At last I was back at my little girl's tiny vagina. Her whole body felt hot; I could feel her again; it was like this rush of heat and energy that just swept over her. I sensed it; it was like a rippling wave that came up from her thighs over her Mons and her stomach across her breasts to her face. I'm certain not even Cayden had made anything like what I was doing happen. My sweet small sex toy was so wet. I knew what she was doing. She felt like she was peeing but it was something else, another kind of liquid. My little bauble was ejaculating. Once again I was at the gateway to Angie's pussy. I nibbled on her, I bit at her clitoris again, and again I licked all along her labia. I pulled all Angie's labia inside my mouth and sucked. I knew what it felt like; it was like I was swallowing her whole body. Again she arched upward to greet my mouth. She felt her juices leave her body and go into my stronger woman's mouth. Angie felt the rush of yet another sweeping orgasm; it clouded over her like a powerful hot wave. Her body was covered in sweat, and still I refused to relent. I was made for this; her heat made me hot. I knew that Angie was completely out of energy. I knew she felt so completely listless, overwhelmed. I had to continue. I knew it was cruel, but I just had to. She had to experience total and absolute submission. I wondered if she prayed. I was sure she prayed that I would stop, but I also knew she was terrified that I would stop. She was frightened beyond all reason. She needed me. She craved me! She had to have me dominate and make her feel weak, helpless, and totally submissive. She wanted me to go on and on. She couldn't move. I had paralyzed her will to resist, or even to think of anything beyond her immediate physical yearnings. For half the night I kept Angie in a state of physical and emotional turmoil. Angie was my toy, my plaything, my possession. Not for a second did I give Cayden's ex-wife any peace. Her submission was my sickness. Only after I felt Angie was utterly and totally exhausted did I lie back beside my smaller, weaker, subservient companion. I was confident Angie had never felt so utterly and completely possessed. I had used her a hundred different ways. I had her; I owned her. Angie was my slave. Finally I reached around and pulled her against me. I wrapped my arms around the smaller woman, and only then did I tell her it was time to sleep. I kissed Angie on her forehead; it was like Angie was the baby and I the mother. Angie curled herself into my more mature more powerful woman's body; She rested her head between the folds of my breasts, her knees were up against her chest, her hands under her chin, her fingers almost in her mouth as though she were sucking her thumbs. I knew Angie never felt so complete, so completely and totally happy. This would be the last thing Angie would remember about the night, but I knew in the morning she would look at me in a new way. From this night onward Angie was mine; her will, her personhood, her ability to think independently was gone. She belonged to me. She was my possession, my toy, my object. From this night on I knew she would defer to me in every decision. I was mistress of her soul. I wrapped my arms around her and went to sleep. ++++++++++ The beginning of a new morning for Angie. Friday morning Caprice and Angie were up early. Caprice awakened first and aroused Angie with a kiss, "Wake up sleepy head." I opened my eyes and saw the most beautiful person in the world smiling down at me, "Good morning Caprice." It was a new day, a brand new world. I couldn't remember being this happy. Caprice smiled at me. It was the warmest most beautiful smile I'd ever seen. I never dreamed a smile could make me so happy. She said, "Come on honey, time to fix Cayden some breakfast. While we get breakfast we can have a quiet talk about your future." "About my future?" "Yes, your future." ++++++++++ Cayden had slept upstairs. I'd slept upstairs that night. When I got downstairs I had this disquieting impression something was distinctly different. When I'd gone to bed there'd been two women; one perceptibly hostile to the other. This morning it was like there was this harmony. Sometime between me going to bed and when I awakened something profound had occurred. I asked, "How are things this morning. It looks like you two made out all right." Angie briefly looked at me, and then at Caprice, "Caprice and I want to go see Pastor Cook this morning." I asked, "What are you two getting married?" Angie didn't say anything; she just kept looking at Caprice. She was smiling at her. I recognized that smile; Angie was in love, no she was addicted. Caprice momentarily turned her gaze from Angie to me, "Angie wants to start counseling." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 04 I was immediately pleased, "You're kidding. That's wonderful." Angie turned to look at me, "I want you to help me get a job. I mean a real job. I don't want to work at a bar. I want to do something wholesome." I answered, "They might want somebody part time at the public library. I mean somebody out of high school." Caprice looked at Angie, "You could do that." Angie looked back at Caprice, "You think I could?" Caprice looked at me, then back at my ex-wife, "Sure you could," she turned to me, "You could help her get it couldn't you Cayden?" I told them both, "I'll call Matt Devereau today. The library's closed because it's Good Friday, but I know he'll be home. I think if I put a word in he'd give her a shot," honestly I didn't think he'd consider it without my say so. I knew he wanted more money to upgrade the library's software. I could help him get it. I watched as Caprice affectionately took Angie hand, "There see." I was a little put off; it was like they were communicating on a whole different level and I wasn't a part of it. I felt a little jealous, but pushed that thought aside. Somehow Caprice had talked Angie into doing all the things I'd wanted her to do. I watched. Angie had one of those funny looks like she was a puppy waiting for her owner to tell her what to do. I wondered what the hell had gone on while I'd been asleep. I checked my watch, "Look its past 8:00 a.m. Why don't you call the good Pastor around 10:00? I've got horses to see, and I want to get out to the fields. Caprice I'll leave you the keys to the Lexus. Once you get the Pastor you two can drive over. Angie you'll need to get home." Then I gave Caprice what I hoped was a disquieting look, "I can rely on you?" Caprice looked from me to Angie, "I've got everything under control." I didn't quite get what she meant, but Angie looked happy so I guessed it'd be all right. Angie looked at me, "Can Caprice come to my mom's. I want her to meet my daughter," she didn't wait for my answer she just turned and looked back at Caprice. I said, "Sure," I felt like the fifth wheel on a four wheeled wagon. What was more remarkable was how Angie was behaving; she was like a child. She even asked me for permission for something about our daughter. I finished my coffee and got out of there as fast as I could, but I was able to hear a little of what they said. As I left I saw them in the reflection of the storm door. I watched as Caprice grinned at Angie, "That was incredible. He even gave me the keys to his car." Angie murmured, "Can we go back to bed a while." Caprice took her hand, she cupped Angie's cheek in her other hand and kissed her lips, "Only for a little while. We've got to plan our day." I was thinking the whole thing this morning sort of had me up in the air. Caprice was a whore, had been for a long time, she knew how to use and manipulate people. I mean what was this; some kind of whore's plan? She could use Angie to get at me, I mean my money. This sucked! God I hoped this didn't end up hurting Angie, because if Caprice did turn out to be a bitch, she sure wasn't getting at my money. ++++++++++ Caprice plans their day. After calling ahead Angie and I drove over to see Pastor Cook. He greeted us at the door, and ushered us into his office. He appeared to be in his late sixties, tall, and well built. I liked him right away, "Good morning, my name is Caprice Fischer, and I think you know Angie Bradford. If you have the time we'd like to talk to you." Pastor Cook replied, "I have to be at the hospital in a little while to deliver an Easter message, and after that I'll be giving communion to some shut ins, but I guess we have some time. How can I help you?" "That's great; Angie and I are both acquainted with a man named Cayden McLeish. We know most of his personal history, his mother died trying to abort him, his father left him to die, his great grandmother was indifferent, and he was raised by a bunch of really old people. Is there anything else you could help us with?" "I've heard stories." "Anything." The pastor started, "I believe when he was little, in grammar school the other kids gave him a hard time. I heard one story when he was in I think the first grade some of the older boys used to torment him. I recall hearing how they'd all eat outside, and afterward the bigger boys would roll out a tire. They'd make him get in it, and then they'd roll him around inside the tire for the rest of lunch. You can imagine how that worked. He'd toss up his lunch and have to wear filthy clothes the rest of the afternoon. Once I heard, the last time it happened, the boys had gotten a really big tractor tire. They shoved him in it and rolled him around till lunch was over. Well the tire fell on its side, but poor Cayden was too small to get out. His arms were trapped inside, and though he cried and yelled no one helped him. I heard that one of the teachers noticed he wasn't in the classroom, and when he asked where Cayden was all the other kids started laughing. That's when the teacher went outside and found him in the tire. I heard he almost suffocated." Angie commented, "I heard that story but never believed it." The Pastor replied, "Oh it's true. I got it from too many sources." Caprice remarked, "That must have been awful. Imagine a little boy left outside alone like that, and you say no one, not anyone tried to help?" Cook answered, "No one; he didn't have it so good at home either, but most of what I hear that happened at home seemed to be unintentional." Angie asked, "Like what?" "Cayden was the only child. Once his Aunt Maggie bought him a Christmas present. He got one a year from her. She bought him this table game. Clue I think it was. Imagine Cayden read and studied all the rules, but when he asked if anyone wanted to play they all said they were too busy. He played Clue all by himself." "I can't conceive of anyone figuring out how to play Clue alone," said Caprice. The preacher went on, "There was a time I heard when Cayden go into puzzles, so his Aunt Olive bought him a big puzzle. It was called snow storm or something. Anyway it was this huge thousand piece puzzle, but all the pieces were white. Could you imagine an eight year old trying to put together a puzzle like that?" Angie frowned; she started thinking about Emily and the Candy land game, "It must have been awful." Cook wasn't through, "I think the worst was probably his grandmother or great grandmother I still can't quite figure that family out. Every year for Christmas all her other great grandchildren, or whatever, nieces and nephews came to her house for Christmas dinner and every year she'd hand out presents. Some got electric trains; sometimes one would get a bicycle, once I heard she bought one special boy a go-cart. Every year Cayden got the same thing. She'd give him a red bandana, and remind him to use it when he was around her because she couldn't stand his runny nose and his sniffling." Caprice felt really bad, "That must have been terrible. He was just a little boy." Cook added, "You can imagine the kid grew up knowing not to expect anything from anybody, and not trusting too many people," he looked at Angie, "that is everyone but you. I hear tell he really thought you were sincere. I hear he still hasn't given up on you, but that's Cayden. One thing I'm told you can count on; he's never been a quitter, and another thing he has one solution, the same solution to every problem." "What's that," asked Caprice. The reverend chided, "Work; when something goes wrong, or there's something he can't figure out or can't fix, he just works. He got that from those two old men. I knew those old men, Mitchell and Johnny. All they ever did all their lives was work. Cayden's like that now," Pastor Cook checked his watch, "look I've got to get to the hospital. I hope I was some help." Caprice responded, "Oh yes, by the way could each of us see you privately once in a while, maybe talk about our concerns." "Sure; call me later tonight. I'll put you on my personal schedule. I love my secretary, but she's a talker." ++++++++++ Both ladies thanked the Pastor, and left. After they got in the car and drove away Caprice said, "That's says a lot about Cayden doesn't it?" "I can't imagine anyone, even a bunch of boys, being so cruel." "I like Cayden. I'm surprised he's been so nice to me, but then he watched as those men were trying to strangle me. I wonder if..." "Have you ever played Candy Land Caprice?" "Well yeah, when I was little." "You want to play Candy land with me and Emily later?" "What is Candy land Emily's Clue?" Angie glanced over at Caprice and sniffed, "Not after today." Angie and Caprice drove back to Cayden's. ++++++++++ Angie and Caprice drove back to Cayden's. Each was immersed in her own thoughts. When we got there we saw he wasn't home. I talked Caprice into joining me for a bath. We filled the tub with hot water and soaped each other up. I felt like a little kid again. Caprice has a beautiful body; it's pretty scratched up. I could tell she's been kicked around quite a bit. Just the same she let me snuggle against her boobs. I persuaded her to let me trim her pussy. She has a big bush, but she let me trim it down so that I could see her vagina. Her labia are really big; they extrude out a lot further than mine. Her pussy was really responsive. I only touched her a few times and wow, her juices really started flowing. When we got out and went back to bed I wanted to give her the same pleasure she gave me the night before, but she wouldn't let me. She went down on me again though, and I swear the way she used her tongue inside me was a nightmare, just a heavenly wonderful exciting nightmare of excitement. I never felt this way before. I'd never been with a woman before Caprice. I don't think I'm a lesbian, but I know I'm starting to have real feelings for her. ++++++++++ Angie talked me into taking a bath with her. She has a beautiful body, but it's beautiful in a child's way. I love playing with her snatch; it's so small, and she's so responsive. I could see myself taking care of her; like making her my own pretend child. I remember once there had been an older whore who'd looked after me, I mean taken care of me. After our special time we took another nap. We made a special pact to play with Emily every day. Angie told me there were other girls her age in town, but their mothers didn't want Emily playing with their kids. I thought that was cruel. I don't know how long I'll be staying around but there are three things I want to do. One I want to keep making love to Angie, second I want to get to know her daughter, and three I'm going to find a way to get Cayden to fuck me, no I want him to love me. Oops, Freudian slip, I mean make love to me. There's something else that's bothering me. I'm not used to caring about anybody, I mean other people. Hell, a few days ago I didn't care about anything. Now I feel kind of like I'm being sucked into quicksand. Jesus, I feel like I'm in this web, and every time I move I get more of that sticky stuff on me. I've got nothing to go back to. Vince wanted to kill me. Where would I go? I have nowhere to go. Is there anything more for me here? I look around here and all I see are people who have lives, real lives, and a lot of them need help. I'm getting caught up in something. I think I kind of like it. I don't know what to do. ++++++++++ And Cayden: I drove down to the barns. Del had already been with the animals. I decided to drive over to the beach and check on the roadside stands. It was still early, but it wouldn't be too long before they'd be eating up a lot of time. I wanted to check the fields. I'd done a pretty good job cutting down the weeds along the ditch banks Every time I did them I turned up more of Uncle Johnny's whiskey bottles. I remembered thinking for a long time he was out here all day getting drunk, but I sniffed a couple of them that had been pretty tightly closed. They were filled with water. I guess it made sense. He was out there day and night working; whiskey wouldn't have worked. I felt bad for the poor son-of-a-bitch. He had all the money in the world, but his only legacy was a handful of bottles along a ditch bank. That reminded me I needed to get back to work. ++++++++++ Then Angie: Caprice and I got to my mom's just about when Emily got home from kindergarten. After a short nap the three of us played Candy land. I couldn't tell who had the most fun. I, of course, enjoyed anything I did with my little girl, but I think it might have been the first time Caprice ever played like that. Maybe not in a long time anyway. Emily especially liked it. She kept switching from my lap to Caprice's. I thought Caprice was going to cry once. Emily leaned up and kissed Caprice right on the lips. It had been complete surprise. Afterward we did something completely new. ++++++++++ Back to Cayden: When I got home I saw the Lexus was parked in front of the house. I heard all kinds of noise inside. When I opened the front door I got the surprise of my life. Caprice and Angie had pushed the dining room table back. They found my old boom box, some ABBA song, 'Dancing Queen' I think was blaring away, and they were all dancing and frolicking around on the hardwood floor. They didn't see me at first so I just watched. They were like three little girls, two women and a child actually, all twisting and gyrating about. I got sort of excited. Angie had brought Emily to my house! I tried to laugh, it was foolish of me but I tried to act jovially, "Hey you kids what's going on?" I ruined it. As soon as they saw me Caprice ran over and turned off the music, Angie grabbed Emily, and Emily looked like she wanted to cry. Why did I have to open my mouth? I tried to fix it, "Don't stop. It looked like you were all having so much fun." ++++++++++ Caprice reacts: I don't know why I turned off the music. I wished I hadn't. Cayden had such a happy look on his face. It was the first time I think I saw him really happy. I mean the smile didn't look forced or phony. Now he looked more like himself, uncomfortable, I told him, "I'm sorry we were just having some fun." Angie picked her daughter up, "I guess we should go now." "No don't," a nervous Cayden replied, "Stay for supper." I tried to smile, "No I better get Angie and Emily home. Mrs. Bradford has a special home cooked meal prepared." I could see the disappointment on his face. I thought shit I really fucked this up. I tried to fix it by talking to Angie, "You know your mom always has home cooked meals." Angie interrupted me, "This is Good Friday. She's making her special recipe for crab cakes," then she looked at Cayden, "I'm sorry, but mom only invited Caprice. She didn't think to invite you. You know, because of the way things are." I watched as Cayden tried to smile. He said, "That's OK. I'm not hungry anyway. You guys go ahead," then he forced a smile at me. I don't know, but somehow all I could see was this little boy getting a red bandana while his cousins all got real gifts. He asked me, "Caprice you need money for gas or anything?" I saw that look and thought he wasn't just another 'John', and this wasn't just another one time thing; damn, people had been misusing him all his life. "I answered, "No, there's nearly a full tank." ++++++++++ Cayden took it on chin. I felt kind of miserable but I think I hid it pretty well. I told em, "I've got to shower up. You all run along. I've got to get to bed early; need an early start in the morning," I ran on upstairs. I didn't want to look back. It had been a happy moment, and I'd ruined it. As soon as I got upstairs I heard the front door close. I watched from the upstairs bathroom window as the Lexus pulled away. ++++++++++ Caprice saw him at the window as they pulled away, "You think maybe...?" Angie answered, "No, soon, not today." Emily asked, "Why do you say he's mean. I thought he was going to cry. I bet there'll be enough if we asked him." Angie answered, "He's not as mean as Mr. Keith, but Mr. McLeish has done some pretty bad things." In her innocence Emily replied, "Is it something we could forgive him for? Mrs. Newland is my Sunday-school teacher and she says we're supposed to forgive people when they're bad. You forgive me all the time don't you mommy?" Angie skirted her daughter's question, "It's kind of hard to forgive Mr. McLeish Emily. I'll tell you about it someday." Emily tried to insist, "Tell me now." Angie cut her off, "No, when you're older." We drove on over to Mrs. Bradford's. I stayed and ate, and we played Candy land again. I left and got back to Cayden's after 10:00 p.m. It was dark, but he'd left the front door unlocked. I figured he was asleep so I slipped into the master bedroom, got into my pajamas and went fast to sleep. ++++++++++ Cayden has a rough Friday night, and Saturday wasn't much better. I didn't sleep well. I heard Caprice when she came back. Damn it she'd been here a week, and in a week she'd seen more of my daughter than I had in years. She'd become a friend of my ex-wife's and was eating at my former mothers dinner table. I felt like all I did was eat, shit, work, and sleep. Everything everybody else had was good. All I ended up with was shit. I felt like a guy in some old movie; I felt like I was standing outside some fancy restaurant with my nose pressed up against the window while all the people I cared about were inside having a nice meal. Damn, I wanted to be inside with everybody else. Saturday went just like I expected. I got up and off early. I worked my ass off all day. I drove by Mrs. Bradford's a couple times; both times my Lexus was parked in front. When I got home it was late. The Lexus was back in the garage, and Caprice had gone to bed. I showered and set the clock. Tomorrow was Easter Sunday. I hoped Del remembered to take pictures. I was certain Emily, Mrs. Bradford, and Angie would be at church. I'd take Caprice. I'd at least have a chance to see everyone. ++++++++++ Easter morning! I had to admit I was a little excited. I'd get to see all three of my girls. I'd started thinking of Caprice as one of my girls; I don't know why I just had. I mean in a week? She came out in the yellow sheath she'd bought. I thought she looked elegant; nothing like the whore I'd brought home, "Caprice you're adorable." She came up and kissed me right on the lips, "I'm not an embarrassment?" "You? Never, not to me," we took the Lexus, I drove. When we got to church I went around and handed her out of the vehicle. I was worried her dress would ride up, but it didn't. Her heels were just the right height; she stood almost exactly my height. I couldn't have been more proud, except if it had been... I saw Angie step from her mother's car. I watched as she helped my daughter out. Wow! They were dressed identically; each had on a crisp pale blue sailor's dress, the kind with the wide lapels and pretty bows in front. They took my breath away. "They look good don't they," Caprice said in a quiet undertone. I nodded. We all went in and found seats. I usually sat somewhere in the middle of the center row of pews. Angie, her mom and Emily sat further toward the front on the left. We'd all gotten there early so we were all able to sit pretty close to where we usually sat. The place filled up fast. The service followed the usual pattern; a few opening chords, some off key, on the organ, a mention of those we needed to pray for, a children's service, the sermon, declaration of faith followed by the offering, and then the benediction. It all went about as expected except for one notable surprise. The Curse of the Scots Ch. 04 Caprice didn't have any glasses so she couldn't read the music, but she knew every word to every hymn. She had a clear clean voice, quite beautiful actually. The surprise came when everyone was singing one of the last hymns; I don't remember which one but it was stirring. Then out of nowhere, right at the peak of the song Caprice let out with this magnificent descant. It sounded like something sent straight from heaven. I was completely blown away. I looked around the congregation and I saw everyone else was too. I looked over at her and asked, "Where did that come from?" She was blushing, "I don't know Cayden it just came out." "It was beautiful Caprice," I could see she was embarrassed so I let it drop. After the service we were outside on the lawn when an acquaintance sidled up. He was a local truck driver for one of the poultry operations. He was a big guy, well over six feet, heavy, big gut, ham like fists, big red face. He was wearing a suit that was too small; dark brown coat, dark brown pants, black shoes and white socks. He had on a white shirt with a collar that was too small. His tie was too short; it didn't reach his waist. I could see his yellow teeth and smell his breath before he reached us. I never liked him. His name was Aaron Giles. Aaron walked up to Caprice and I and asked, "Haven't we met somewhere before?' Caprice answered, "I don't think so." Aaron replied, "Have you ever been to Dillsburg?" Dillsburg, Pennsylvania had been the place where I'd been playing cards the week before. It was where I'd bought Caprice. I told him, "No you must be mistaken. Caprice is a friend of mine from the army." Aaron kept staring at her, "I could have sworn..." I stopped him in his tracks, "No Aaron you're way off," I took Caprice's arm and started for Angie, Emily, and Mrs. Bradford. Caprice whispered to me, "He's seen me. He knows who I am." I lightly squeezed her arm, I asked, "Are you still an am, or are you someone else." She didn't answer me. I knew she knew what I meant. I think I pissed her off. We walked over to the girls; the closer we got the more ill at ease Angie looked. When we got there I said, "Beautiful sermon wasn't it." Mrs. Bradford ignored me. She looked at Caprice and asked, "You'll be over for Easter dinner?" Caprice looked at me. I answered for her, "Of course she will." Mrs. Bradford, my ex-wife and daughter walked away. Caprice looked me again, "I won't go if you don't want me to." "No," I told her, "I want you to go, but you've got to promise to tell me how Emily responded to the pony." I could tell she'd forgotten the pony. Caprice considered, if Cayden were at Mrs. Bradford's he'd get to see first-hand his daughter's reaction. She thought it would be nice if there was some way she could get Mrs. Bradford to invite Cayden too, but she knew it was none of her business. She really felt sorry for him. She said, "I'll watch and I'll tell you when I get home tonight." I guess I evinced what probably something of a rueful grin, "Tell Angie I talked to Matt Devereau. He'd like to interview her tomorrow." Caprice asked me, "You think she has a chance?" I replied, "It's a sure thing. I made him an offer he couldn't refuse." I had to chuckle at my remark. I took her arm and walked her back to the car. We drove back to my house in silence. A little after 2:00 she got her raincoat and the keys to the Lexus and drove over to Mrs. Bradford's. I watched and waved good bye as she drove off. I felt like shit. ++++++++++ After Caprice left I did some very uncharacteristic things. I got out a bottle of Jim Beam and poured myself a tall one, then I had another, then another. I got a little shit faced. I went upstairs and looked through all the shit I had in Uncle Mitchell's old trunk. By then it was almost 7:00 p.m. I finished off my seventh Jim Beam, sat down in one of the old peoples' rocking chairs and started to have a real good cry. I thought about the Oakridge Boys, 'I guess sometimes it doesn't hurt to hurt sometimes.' ++++++++++ Del gets to see Cayden's gift. Cayden had asked me to get some pictures of Emily when she saw the pony. I have to admit, if I had a kid, that would have been what they call a golden moment. The look on the girl's face was priceless. It was the happiest I'd ever seen her. Angie was happy too. Mrs. Bradford smiled but never said much; at least I didn't hear her say anything. Cayden's gift was the hit of the year. Too bad that little girl didn't know who gave it to her. I thought they could've let him at least watch from afar, but I knew Mrs. Bradford hated him as much as Angie did. I knew most of the things he'd done; I didn't think any of those things rose to the level of cruelty of not letting him at least see the priceless happiness on that little girl's face. I took a bunch of pictures and after a stop at my parents; I drove to Cayden's. I got to Cayden's a little after 7:00. I heard him as soon as I walked in the front door. I know my uncle; the last thing he'd want was to have me see him drunk and crying, so I sat down at the dining room table. I figured Caprice would be home soon, and she'd know what to do. That thought kind of amazed me; she'd been around a week and already I thought of her as part of the family. It was like she was taking over. It kind of scared me. Cayden needed someone to run his life, but Caprice was scary. I mean she was a whore. ++++++++++ Caprice got back around 9:00 p.m. Del's truck was out front. I pulled the Lexus in the garage and went in. Del was sitting on the sofa, "Where's Cayden? "He's upstairs. He was drunk, I mean totally wiped when I got here. I think he's asleep now." "Why, what's the matter?" "He was upstairs crying his eyes out. I thought it was best to stay down here and wait for you. What do you think we should do?" I walked over to the table. I looked through the heap of pictures Del had taken, "He missed a beautiful moment didn't he?" "He hasn't seen them yet." I bit my lip. I didn't know what to do, "Del you go on home now. Can you handle the farm tomorrow? I don't think Cayden will be able to." He replied, "Sure Caprice. What are your plans?" "I was supposed to drop Angie off at the library for her interview, and Cayden was planning on taking me a couple places. I guess Mrs. Bradford can handle Angie. I'll stay here and look after Cayden." He breathed a sigh that I presumed was relief, "Thanks Caprice," He got his keys, but turned around. Real fast he asked, "You won't hurt him?" I waved him off with a hand and a smile, "No, I won't hurt him." I stood at the door and wondered as Del pulled away. Things had sure changed a lot in a week. I'd changed a lot in a week. I was a filthy beaten almost suffocated whore, and that lonely man upstairs had me chained to a bed. Just this past Monday I figured Cayden to be no better than any other of a dozen pimps. And now, now where am I? ++++++++++ Monday morning I was waiting with a hot cup of black coffee when Cayden woke up. It was 7:00 a.m. on the nose. It had been barely a week, but in some things I realized he was a reliable as a clock. He rolled over and through blurry eyes looked at me. I could tell his head probably felt like it was bigger than the Goodyear blimp. I handed him the coffee, "Here you are." He looked at me and asked, "What happened? How did I get in here?" I smiled, "You silly boy. You were dead drunk. I carried you in here and put you to bed." He looked down beneath the covers at himself, "Where are my clothes?" I took the half empty coffee cup back before he spilled any of it, "Hey look I couldn't put you to bed and leave you all dressed up now could I? I mean you still had on your Easter suit," I lowered my voice, tilted my head forward so he only got my eyes as I coyly looked up at him and added, "I could've chained you to the bed." He gave me one of those 'did we do anything' looks I'd seen on a million men. I responded with a pretend frown, "Don't worry I didn't take advantage of you," then I reached down and wrapped my fingers around his scrotum. I smiled, "thought about it though." His penis was hard as a rock; probably a pee hard on but it still felt and looked good. I decided he needed a little teasing. I squeezed his pole and chided, "You men are always worried about how big you are. You guys just don't get it; most women are completely happy with an average penis," I had to say it. I just did, "Cayden I'm sorry; yours is a little on the small side." He blushed. Giggling, I climbed down on top of him, "I lied; you've got a very nice tool." He tried to get up but I pushed him back down. He was a lot stronger than me, but his head probably felt like it weighed a ton, and I think he liked me being on top of him. I told him, "Del's got the farm today. I'm calling Mrs. Bradford in a little while. She'll take Angie to see Mr. Devereau. That means you've got nothing but me today, and I'm going to hold you to your promises. I think we should start with glasses and new teeth today." He squirmed, "I have to get up." I held his shaft in my hand. It was nice and thick. I knew he had to pee so I squeezed it and asked, "What's the magic word?" He didn't hesitate; it must have been something from his childhood, "Please may I get up? I have to pee." I followed him as he went to the bathroom. He saw the adjoining bedroom door was ajar. He gave me what was at first a questioning but quickly became a frightened look. I nodded and said, "I saw what's in the chest." His expression was pained, maybe annoyed. "Look Cayden it's OK, no it's good, to love someone. It speaks well of you. I'm talking about the wonderful things you've done for Angie and your little girl. God knows I've seen and slept with lots of men. Most men are scum. Most of them are into how rich they are, how big their dicks are, or how hard their biceps are. I've seen your dick, and I've felt your biceps. Believe me you take a back seat to no man on those accounts, but the measure of your manhood isn't in your arms or your penis; it's in that chest. You're more than any ten men I've ever been with. Cayden it's good you're a farmer, because you could never be a pimp. Pimps only like women for what they can do for them. Most pimps hate women. You love women. You're one of a kind, a truly rare person. Now hurry up and piss. I want you back in bed. I know you won't touch me, but I'd like nothing better than to just hold you for a little while. I'd like to run my fingers through that shaggy head of hair you've got. Cayden when I'm with you I don't feel like a whore. I feel like I'm just another person. I'm glad you bought me." He looked at me like I was crazy, then he peed and crawled back in bed, "If I could get a little more sleep..." I interrupted him, "You just lie here while I hold you. Face the other way so I won't be tempted to take advantage of you. I might kiss you, but I won't make you have sex." I was going to say fuck, but somehow that word wouldn't fit with Cayden. I'm sure, having been in the army, he'd fucked his share of women, but a fucking wasn't what he needed. He lay there on his side. I climbed in behind him and wrapped him in my arms. I kissed the back of his neck and his cheek. I squeezed him as tightly as I could. I mean it, if ever there was ever a man who needed some affection it was him. I'd been a whore since I don't know when. Faking affection is part of a whore's job. Laying there beside Cayden the affection I shared with him wasn't faked. I thought this was really some shitty situation; I was at my best when it came to seducing stupid men. Cayden was one of the stupidest men I'd ever met, but all I wanted to do was what I was doing. I rubbed my hand over his head and down his cheek. They say some things are too good to be true, but what do you call it when the thing that's too good to be true actually turns out to be true? Yeah, he had me. ++++++++++ Cayden reflects on his circumstances. Jesus my head hurts. That coffee she made tasted good. I'm just glad it was Jim Beam last night; if it had been Jack Daniels I'd probably be dead now. I remember once me and a bunch of guys skipped out of Fort Benning and drove down to the Jack Daniel's Distillery. I was a little disappointed. I thought we'd get free samples. Shit the place was even in a dry county. I don't know what's happening to me. Caprice is driving me crazy. I wished I hadn't said I wouldn't fuck her. I don't think I'm man enough to hold out much longer. Christ her breath is warm on my neck. I'll bet her lips would taste pretty good right now. Gee I'd like to kiss her. What am I going to do? In the few days she's been here she's torn my whole world upside down. She's sleeping with my ex-wife. She's taken hold of my daughter, and now she's climbed right up my ass. I have to face it; I am the dumb farmer she described. She's squirmed her way right into my heart. Her body is so warm and soft and dry; the way she's rubbing me, if I don't concentrate on something else I'm going to end up flooding the sheets with my semen. The idea that anyone would want to suffocate this woman is beyond me. They say whores make the best wives. I think I could believe it. Caprice keeps pressing against me. She's got to know the more she tries to make me feel relaxed the more excited she makes me. She keeps rubbing her hand up and down my hip and thigh. ++++++++++ And Caprice: I can't let him lie here this way. I'll just slip my left arm slowly under his shoulder. Now let me reach under and around like this. His left arm is extended outward, and I can sense he's got his right hand up beside his head. He's so muscular. I'll just reach under and wrap the fingers of my left hand around his right wrist. I know I could never hold him, but it might discourage him from resisting me. Now let me slide my right arm over his waist till I find his shaft; oh it's so big and warm and rigid. I can feel his blood pulsating inside it. I feel a wave of heat wash over me. Jesus, I just got the shivers! Let me take my fingers and slide them slowly up and down his pole, ah just like this. I feel him move. I hear him sigh. I wrap my fingers more tightly around his pole. He just pressed out with his hips so I can get its full length. ++++++++++ Jesus she's got me. I don't know if it's emotional or just physical. I don't think I can hold out. ++++++++++ I feel him. He's rolling over. He's facing me. Oh God, he has me in his arms. I lean up. He leans down. I smell the coffee on his breath. His lips cover mine. I feel his tongue as he pushes it inside my mouth. My tongue greets his. ++++++++++ I find her hips. I feel around for her bush. It's been trimmed up; must have been Angie. I find her Mons, I feel her labia; they're extruded. Gosh, she's soaking wet! I slowly push inside her. Oh she feels so hot, she's sopping wet. She's as excited as I am. I push all the way in. She's pressed herself tightly against me. She's using her muscles to more tightly enclose my rod. I slowly pull back. She's following me with her hips. ++++++++++ Together we slowly move back and forth in a slow steady rhythm. I feel him inside me. He's so big; I've felt bigger, but none this hot. He knows his way around women. He wants to take his time. I feel so completely filled up inside. I'm so absorbed. I can't get enough of him. His hands are in my hair. He's pulling me tightly to him. ++++++++++ I've never been with a woman like this. Maybe it's my hunger, maybe it's her. She's completely swallowed my shaft inside her pussy. I work back and forth. It's slippery. She keep's undulating with me. It's been so long. I can't hold out. I whisper in her ear, "Oh Caprice, oh darling." ++++++++++ I hear him; he called me darling, he used an endearment. He didn't say slut, or pig, or bitch, he said darling! I feel him. He feels so...so wonderful. I'm not fucking this man; I'm making love with this man. I don't feel exploited. I feel fulfilled. He just whispered my name. I reply; I don't use any of my well learned whore talk. I tell him what I really feel, "Cayden hold me. I need you," He's not fucking me; he's loving me. I lean as close as I can. I bite his ear. He's so deep inside me. ++++++++++ "Caprice, I need you. God I love the way you feel. You're mine Caprice. You belong to me!" ++++++++++ "Oh Jesus Cayden; take me, hold me, stay inside me, oh Cayden." He's arrived! I feel him as he ejaculates inside me. It's so hot! I'm on fire. I push against him as hard as I can, "God...Christ...take me, take me...I'm yours...Cayden take me, keep me...Oh God...how I want you," I start crying. I don't know why. I've never cried before. In all the years of sex, through all the years of meaningless mindless fucking I've never in my whole life felt like this about any man. Through my tears I cry, "Hold me Cayden...don't let me go." That was so wonderful. I didn't have an orgasm. I never do, but he felt so...well...special... like specially good. ++++++++++ I'm through, at least for now. I feel myself getting smaller inside her. I don't want it to end. I don't pull out. She has both her hands around my head. She keeps kissing me. She's weeping. Does she feel the same way I feel? I think that she does. I finally whisper, "Caprice I want you to stay." ++++++++++ I hear him, oh do I hear him; I answer, "I'm here; I won't leave you Cayden," God I pray; is it me or is it just the sex? Is it truly him or is it just the sex for him? He asks me, "Want to sleep awhile?" I snuggle up under his chin, "Mm mm." ++++++++++ Angie gets her chance. My mom drove me to the branch library just north of town; that's where Mr. Devereau agreed to see me. I'm so scared. I never tried to get a job like this before. Working at the library; that's a real job. What would I be doing? Am I good enough? Would they even consider me? Mom took my hand before I got out of the car, "Now just relax and be yourself, and you'll do fine." I wasn't so sure as I left the car. My legs felt rubbery as I walked to the front of the library and went in. I walked nervously to the check-out desk; an older grey haired lady was checking DVDs, "Hello my name is Angie Bradford. I'm here to see Mr. Devereau." The grey haired lady pointed to some chairs by a door that led to an office, "Just have a seat over there. Mr. Devereau will see you shortly." I went over and found a seat; three other women were also there. One by one each of the other women were called up to the desk and led to an office in the back. Each one seemed to stay about ten minutes before they came back out. Finally I thought it was my turn, but I ended waiting another forty-five minutes before I was called. I was sent to the back where another younger woman handed me a job application. As soon as I looked at it I knew I was toast; they had spaces for college and prior experience, and I had neither. I filled the application out the best I could, and handed it over to the younger woman. I wondered why they hadn't given me the application earlier while I'd been seated out closer to the front. I returned to my seat and sat down to wait. It was another half hour before I was called in to see Mr. Devereau. When I went in he offered me a chair. I remembered my high school training and sat very properly on the edge of the seat. I discreetly looked Mr. Devereau over. He was thin. He couldn't be much older than me. He looked muscular in a gymnasium sort of way. He had the softest most tender looking blue eyes. He had the look of the kind of guy I could easily fall for. Mr. Devereau was quietly scanning my application; at last he looked up, "I see you have no prior experience." "No sir," I replied, "But I'm willing to learn." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 05 Confusion and tension mounts. The next day we got a call; they'd taken Aaron to the emergency room. My one shot had cracked open his skull. He not only needed stitches, but they'd taken him to Salisbury where they'd performed emergency surgery and had to insert a plate in his skull. They told me the police had tried like crazy but they couldn't find anybody who saw anything. Aaron, when he came around, bless his heart, refused to say who'd done it. I knew I'd have to stay indoors for a few days. I didn't want anyone to see me, plus I didn't want the police coming after me. +++++++++++ All in all it had been a hell of a way to end the week after Easter. I was several days getting better. Caprice played Clara Barton and acted like I was some kind of hero. I guess in a way I was. I knew when I got back out in circulation nobody would bring Caprice's past up; at least not in front of me. About the Clara Barton thing, I mean it, she really doted on me. There wasn't any sex; but I sure got a lot of just honest to God down home tender loving care. I loved it. She even put Neosporin around my black eye; talk about a turn around. The couple weeks turned out both good and bad. There was a lot of good. Emily had fallen in love with her pony. Aubrey visited the bar with his other brother, and they sort of suggested nobody should try for a payback against me. Angie wasn't really nice to me, but she stopped going out of her way to be mean. Dr. Deane sent over Caprice's medical report; she was clean. I managed to get the glass with Caprice's fingerprints sent off, but nothing had come back yet. The dentist had done Caprice's two cavities, and he'd glued in her temporary caps. Her real caps were still a few days away. There was some bad too. Angie had started her job, and some of the library patrons had been teasing her about the way she looked and the work she had to do. From what I heard the worse thing for her was the way her old friends, her 'good' friends, from high school mistreated her. I thought that was tacky. Devereau refused to intercede; what a prick! I saw her uniform; it was an ugly blue nylon thing with a white nylon apron. I didn't like it. I told her I was proud of her. She ignored my praise. Pastor Cook had been seeing both Angie and Caprice, and I got a whiff of what he was trying to do. Man, to me it was like a whiff of gunpowder. He wanted them to be more assertively independent; that meant one thing, no more Cayden. I got a little jealous, actually more than a little jealous; Angie and Caprice have become more than just extra close friends, they're friends with benefits. Sometimes Caprice will pick Angie up after she gets off work and they overnight in my house. I'd sleep in the downstairs bedroom across the hall from the master bedroom. Late at night I can hear them. That coupled with the fact Caprice stopped showing any amorous interest in me made me feel more and more like I was the odd man out. By amorous I mean sexual interest; Caprice hasn't shown any interest that way. On all the other levels though, like talking and quiet sharing times, and just general warmth she's been wonderful. When Angie isn't around in some ways it's like we're an old married couple. Sometimes I put my head in her lap and she rubs my back. Sometimes she leans forward to whisper something and I can feel her boobs press against my ear; they're real soft. Caprice is just...well I mean...she's just...I guess... she's just a nice person. I've been trying. I think, or thought, I was doing all the right things, but here I was becoming even more of an outsider in my own house. Can a man be a cuckold in his own house. Can he be cuckold by two women; women he cared about more than anything? It sure seemed like it. ++++++++++ Devereau's observations. Angie had a tough time her first few days at the library. I watched it. I'm new to the area; I only moved here a few weeks before Mr. McLeish called me about Angie so I had some catching up to do. Let me say people are cruel no matter where they live, and it wasn't too long before I had the complete story about Angie and Cayden. My guess is both of them deserve everything they get. I'd moved down from Philadelphia where I'd gone through a pretty tough time myself. I'd married my college sweetheart right after graduation. She belonged to one of those prestigious sororities where the girls got just about everything they wanted. I had an off campus apartment I shared with two other guys. My future wife, her name was Gloria, went to school, and thanks to her father's wealth, she had no financial concerns. I on the other hand had to scrape and save for everything. Gloria had gone to college to have a good time; to find herself is what she called it. She played and partied her way through four years. She majored in English Literature; she agreed it was a largely worthless area of study, but she told me she wasn't interested in a career, only in finding a man. To my delight, and later to my chagrin, she found me. I majored in business administration, but along the way took an interest in Library Technology, or Library Science, call it what you will. It looked like an area where fewer people ventured; in short a place where I could find a niche and move ahead. I'm Matt Devereau by the way. I got moving, and started to make my way. I finished my four years, got a grant and some help from a distant relative, and was able to hang on and get an M.A. in Library Science. Upon graduation I found out pretty quickly this field was jammed as tight as everything else. Still I got lucky and found work in the Philadelphia Public Library. Gloria found me at a summer mixer. I had been there finishing some preliminary course work for my masters. She was there playing catch up on classes she'd avoided. I fell for her like a ton of bricks. She was a gorgeous blond haired blue eyed Norse Goddess. Popular didn't describe her; she was every guy's fantasy. Unbelievably she took an interest in me. I thought it was true love; later I found out I was her 'cover' when she wanted to go out and get it on. For sure, all through her senior year I was her dutiful, loyal, and incredibly dumb escort. Man I really loved her; she was good in bed, and I believed loyal to me. Of course, I put in a lot of time on my graduate studies and the menial work I had to perform for some of the professors. I had to teach the 'pick up' classes they missed, and in one case I found myself doing most of one professor's research for a book he was writing. All this time while I was obediently and lovingly playing escort for Gloria and busting my ass in graduate school she was either spreading her legs or chewing on some fraternity boy's dick. I didn't have a clue. I finished graduate school and she finished her senior year. Right away we got married. Since we'd attended the University of Pennsylvania, and I'd found a job at the Philadelphia Public Library System once married we were never far from the scene of Gloria's social activities. I married her, worked hard all day and started investigating doctoral programs, while she played nighttime homemaker and daytime whore. Sooner or later something was bound to happen. Honestly I never had a clue. I thought she was being faithful until one afternoon I came home early. Isn't that the way these things usually work? Well I found her as she was finishing up. She was walking around in her bra and panties, while this guy, a jock of course, was sitting in my living room in his jockey shorts drinking one of my Coors. First one look at the giant in jockeys, I'm a boxer shorts man, and I nearly lost it. I didn't have to ask what had been going on. We lived in an apartment; one trip to the bedroom told the story. I didn't argue, or cry, or ask any questions; the look on her face finished the story. I packed up a couple suitcases and was gone in twenty minutes. The guy drinking my beer didn't even get up. I moved back to some ratty old off campus housing and set up housekeeping with a couple other nerds. Gloria found me a few days later. She apologized, she cried, she promised it would never happen again, but by then I'd found out a little more about her extra-marital activities as well as some very unwanted and unsolicited information about what she'd been doing before we were married. It's amazing how the roaches crawl out from under the eaves with bad news once they find out somebody's down. She called constantly, so I finally gave up and answered my cell phone. I listened to her. I really loved her. I wanted to pretend I could go back like nothing had ever happened, but I knew who I was. I might not have been a jock, and I might not have been the most popular guy on campus, or now at work, but I was still a man. Broken marriage vows were to me like a broken egg; it was like taking a raw egg and dropping it on the floor, once the shell was cracked it was over, ruined. Gloria didn't give up easily. It took her several months to give up. I got e-mails, phone calls, letters, visits from all her girlfriends, and even from some old boyfriends. I heard how she'd opted for the life of a chaste nun while I was gone. I even started to believe what I was hearing. Just too make sure I went back to our apartment and wired the place. Yeah she was chaste all right. I caught her one time; she was on the phone with me pleading for a second chance while some guy was simultaneously stuffing her crack with his tool. I went back one more time to show her a video of her activities; the thing was timed and dated so she couldn't deny anything. She flew into a rage; she called me every name in the book, and swore she'd have my ass on a slab in the morgue. She nearly did too. She got a couple of her 'friends' to find me and beat the shit out of me one night, then she had the nerve to visit me in the hospital where we said our final good byes, they weren't amicable. It was then I realized our break up hurt her pride more than her heart. It was over. I cried and felt blue, but mostly I was pissed. I'd never dreamed I'd ever have to fight anybody. I vowed nobody would ever beat me up like that again. I signed up for some Karate lessons. And after a few months of effort and humiliation I believed I was sufficiently capable of defending myself if anything similar ever occurred. Of course, Karate isn't something a person just does and quits, it becomes something of a passion. Since I left Philadelphia and moved south I found a new Karate school, and I've continued my studies. I hope I never have to use what I'm learning, but not being an athlete and not being especially muscular it's given me the confidence to know I won't be ambushed so easily again. I learned some other things from Gloria; for one I learned women aren't that trustworthy, and a second thing I learned was there were a lot of guys who are more than ready to fuck up somebody else's life if they thought they might get a cheap piece of ass. Yes, from what I've been told about Angie and Cayden both of them have a lot to answer for. That leaves me with the Angie situation. Angie had to put up with a lot of guff her first days of work. Word got out she was this drudge working at the library. Many of her old high school friends came by near closing time each night to make comments. Others, part of the jailhouse alcohol gang came by too; they were just as cruel. I think her old friends hurt her the most. I kept out of it. The only person who came by and stood up for her turned out to be this woman I found out was a prostitute. Her name someone told me was Caprice. I'd seen my share of Philadelphia whores; this one made them all look like skanks. They were an odd pair. I started watching them. They were obviously more than just friends. Caprice was the dominant, and it was easy for me to see there was a powerful bond of affection between the two of them. I thought Mr. McLeish might stop by, but he never did. Later I found out he'd gotten hammered at a bar trying to defend the prostitute. I lost a lot of respect for him when I heard that; no woman is worth risking one's health or sanity for. I'd learned that the hard way. Angie interested me. She wasn't the hottest piece of ass I'd seen, but she was about as far from Gloria as one could imagine. I started to imagine what it would be like to get little Miss Angie in the sack. To be sure she wasn't someone I'd want a real relationship with. If I intended to spend any time where I was she'd be the last person I'd hook up with long term. Still she was needy and alone, and I was getting tired of the old five finger work-out. ++++++++++ Caprice gets her makeover. Cayden took me back to the dentist today and I got my permanent caps. He had to do a little grinding and shaping. But when he was finished I felt good. I had all new teeth. Cayden made me stand in front of the mirror. Yep, he got me to stand in front of a mirror at the dentist's and smile. He told me, "Now that's a beautiful smile on a beautiful face." I looked at my image and I thought I didn't look half bad, but when he told me I looked beautiful it was like a rush of warm air flooded over me. I've been around a lot of men, and I've heard all the compliments, but when Cayden says something it's like its real. I mean when he said I looked beautiful I felt beautiful. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to take me home so I could make love to him. I should have said something. I know if I told him how I felt he'd take me home and we'd spend the whole afternoon together. I don't know that we'd spend the day in bed having sex; I do know we'd certainly spend the day being close. I didn't though. I know how much Angie loves Cayden, and Angie's my girl. I know Angie's a grown woman, but she behaves like a child around me; it's like she's my baby. Sure it's a fantasy, but partly because of it I know I can never encourage Cayden. The other part that scares me is how I'm starting to feel about him. I know he likes me, but when he went to that bar and got the shit kicked out him for me it was like the greatest that ever happened to me. I mean I didn't want him to get hurt, but I think every woman likes the idea of a man fighting for her. And he did it for me, a whore! I'm just staring at him while he's staring at me, I told him, "I'm afraid to eat anything. I don't want to get them messed up." He says he loves the way I look, he says he loves the way my voice sounds, he says he loves it when I flash my eyes when I talk. I think he's full of shit. Then I got a big surprise when he said, "Caprice you can forget about food for a little while." "Why," I asked? "We have another doctor's visit today." "Really," I asked, "where?" He smiled and said, "I'll tell you in the truck," He held my arm while we walked to the truck, once we were inside and belted he told me, "You remember I promised you about your vagina and your rectum." I looked at him, "Oh that." "Yeah that," he started the truck and pulled out on the road, "We have an appointment to see someone about your rectum," he got kind of what I call Cayden serious; that's when he tries to make his voice get lower and he furrows his eyebrows all up. It's really quite humorous; he just can't carry the serious thing off. He sort of scowled and said, "I can tell when you're self-consciously trying to squeeze your cheeks together afraid you might involuntarily pass gas. You're too young and beautiful for that." There he was with the beautiful thing again, I said, "If you say so." He pronounced, "I say so." ++++++++++ We made it to the doctor's and after a lengthy wait, what else is new, we were ushered in. At first the doctor didn't want Cayden to come back with him, me, and the nurse, but I insisted, after all it was his money and his ass. The doctor looked me over. He was really careful, a real gentleman. Then we went back out to his office. The doctor's name was Owen Winthrop. Dr. Winthrop explained. "There's some damage there. Some of it's the result of Caprice's age, but most of it is the outcome of sexual abuse." I interrupted him, "Cayden didn't do anything. I'm a reformed prostitute. A lot of men have used me there." Cayden looked exuberant! I think it was because I hadn't called myself a whore, and I said I was reformed! Dr. Winthrop looked at Cayden, then at me, "The procedure is pretty forthright. I cut out the hemorrhoids, remove the fissures, and clean out the scar tissue. I can use laser or scalpel, laser is easier and cleaner. Then I'll sew her back together, and after a few days she'll be better than ever." He tried to give Cayden a meaningful look, "The damage will be repaired, but that won't mean much if she's still misused." I watched Cayden when he answered the doctor, he said, "It's my understanding Dr. Winthrop the rectum is for excretion and nothing else. Though Caprice is a grown woman, and what she does with her body is her business, I can guarantee as long as she's with me she'll be treated with the greatest respect." I was so proud of him. I felt like he was defending my honor again. 'Gee', I thought, 'I had honor!' Cayden asked, "When can we do this?" The doctor answered, "I do my surgeries on Tuesdays. This is Wednesday. If you schedule with my secretary before you leave, I think we can get Ms. Fischer out of the way week after next." Cayden looked at me, "You good with that?" I thought, 'Good with that? Good with that, geez he's fixing my body!' "Yes," was all I could think of to say. Doctor Winthrop walked us to his secretary where she checked his schedule, "7:30?" Cayden looked at me, I answered, "Yes." The secretary continued, "Good try to get there an hour early so the nurses can prepare you, and all the paperwork can be taken care of," almost as an afterthought she added, "This is a surgical procedure so I'll need to know if your insurance will cover it." Cayden didn't blink an eye, "You want cash or a check." The nurse stumbled over her next words, "Either way; payment in advance is always best." I watched as Cayden got out his checkbook and wrote a check for the full amount, then he added, "If there are any additional costs we'll take care of that after surgery." The nurse gulped, "Yes sir." Cayden asked, "Will there be anything else?" The nurse replied, "Nothing really; there will be some paperwork to be completed Tuesday morning, but this should do it." Cayden looked at me, "Lunch?" I took my right arm and wrapped it around his left. I pressed my head on his shoulder, "How about Bob Evans. I could do some fried eggs." Cayden laughed, "Fried eggs on the way." ++++++++++ The big Tuesday came, and I found myself at the hospital. Cayden and Angie waited while the doctor did his job. By noon I was awake and in recovery. The doctor's office had left a set of instructions, and a list of things to watch for. At Cayden's insistence I stayed one night, and was sent home Wednesday afternoon. I had Angie all day, and Cayden all night. I felt like the Queen of England. Cayden wanted to see what my rectum looked like after the operation. I guess he had a right to look; he paid for it. Still, though I might be, or might have been, a whore, I felt a little uncomfortable about him seeing me. I mean looking at my ass. I can't exactly explain why. I think I was getting a little sheepish around him. Cayden and I had made love, but now things were different, in a funny way different. I can't explain it. The thought of bending over and displaying my ass for him made me feel self-conscious. Oh sure, I was a cheap whore, but I didn't feel that way around Cayden, not anymore. I got out of him looking by lying. I told him it still hurt, and it was all red. I asked him to wait a few days before looking. He agreed. The Curse of the Scots Ch. 05 Friday turned out to be my day of days. I had my first post-operative bowel movement. It felt like I was passing a ton of ground glass. Boy did it hurt. After that my recovery went a lot faster. Cayden hadn't forgotten about not having seen my rectum yet. I really didn't want him to look at me, but I finally gave in. I was wearing a skirt and a pair of loose fitting cotton panties. We went in the bedroom and I pulled my skirt up and turned around so he couldn't see my face. I lowered my panties and bent over. His remarks were disarming, and when he touched me back there it tickled. ++++++++++ Cayden gets an ass shot. I finally got to see Caprice's rear. Angie had been checking it out and even cleaning it for her. So far Caprice hadn't let me come near her. At last I got to see what the big mystery was. She bent over for me. I knelt down behind her and looked it over closely, but when I reached up and touched her she jumped away. She whipped around like a rattler, "Cayden please." I was surprised, "Caprice we've already..." She interrupted me, "Cayden I don't feel that way right now." I hadn't planned on doing anything. I just wanted to look and maybe rub my hand over her cheeks. I tried to tell her, "Caprice I wasn't trying to start anything I just wanted..." She stopped me again, "No Cayden don't; please don't. I can't. I just can't." I did get in a word, "Is it just that you're suddenly modest or is it something else?" I told him, "It's modest and something else too." I asked, Yeah like what?" She said, "It's you. I don't want you to..." I got pissed and left the room. I heard her start to sob as I left. I wondered what I did? ++++++++++ More medicine for the girl. Three weeks later I was back at another doctor's office for a second operation. I never tried to explain why I couldn't let him look at me, and Cayden never brought it up again. This time it was Doctor Mensus. Mensus was a colleague of Dr. Winthrop's. This surgery was for my vagina. Before we met the doctor all I knew was that it was called vaginal rejuvenation so I'd looked it up on the Internet. That's another funny thing. The guy Vince in Pennsylvania had an email account. I knew what it was, but never, not once, even thought about checking it out. Vince and all the stuff that I used to be was about as far away from me now as the Kalahari Desert. Anyway Dr. Mensus explained the procedure wasn't as new as some people suggested; they'd been doing it in Europe for years. He explained the process would be accomplished with laser technology. The doctor took me back to his examination room; one of his nurses followed us. From the moment the three of us were alone I knew this doctor had been around women like me before. Believe me I've been around some doctors, and some of them can be pretty bad. I'd been around the ones who always expected a blow job before they made their examination. This one; he knew what he was doing. He had that filthy look only a whore doctor could have. His nurse knew too. He set up one of those plastic corrugated curtains so the nurse couldn't see. He knew, his nurse knew, and I knew too; he wasn't supposed to do that. When I was young and two or three of us whores were examined at the same time the others made me go first. I found out why pretty quick. People have a pretty high regard for doctors, and for the most part I'm inclined to agree, but there are some pretty bad ones out there. Some of them are just sadistic bastards. Tell me who's more vulnerable than a whore brought to a doctor's office by her pimp? Well I was behind this curtain with this doctor. He looked at me and murmured, "I'm going to make you beautiful." He took his index finger and traced it over my lips. I mean the lips of my mouth. In the past that would have been my signal to take his finger and either take it in my mouth and suck it or lick and kiss it. I did neither. I clenched my teeth and asked quietly and firmly through tight lips, "I need Cayden." The doctor immediately stepped back; he removed the curtain and told the nurse to get my companion. The doctor knew right away; I might be a whore, but I wasn't available. As far as he was concerned I was somebody's private stock! It felt good too. Cayden came in and stood self-consciously looking around at the medical equipment in the room. He had no idea how good I felt with him in there with me. ++++++++++ After the exam the doctor sat me and Cayden down and explained what he would be doing. The way he explained it the procedure sounded like he was Moses about to part the Red Sea. I thought, 'more like closing the Red sea than parting it'. He said, "Essentially Ms. Fischer what we'll be doing is remodeling your vaginal canal and associated mucus membrane. It really involves two surgeries. We'll improve your vaginal muscle tone, and we'll reshape your labia minora, labia majora, Mons pubis, and perineum. Ms. Fischer when I'm finished you're privates will not only look younger, but they'll feel younger." He went further, "Think of it; that is the vaginoplasty, as something of a face lift for your private parts. I've checked you thoroughly. I imagine you've had occasions, perhaps when coughing or laughing when you've involuntarily experienced some urine loss; that will end. I imagine, at your age, you're thirty I believe; you've experienced some decrease in sexual fulfillment due to a loss of sensation owing to the larger size of your vaginal canal. When I'm finished you'll find a completely new world of sexual satisfaction. He almost giggled, "You'll look and feel like a little girl," then he got more serious, "Ms. Fischer you'll look younger, feel younger, your sexual confidence and sense of personal fulfillment will increase dramatically as you realize greater personal enjoyment for yourself and as you add to the pleasure of your sexual partner," with that he looked confidently at Cayden. I didn't look at Cayden. I didn't want him to know what I was thinking, but I was thinking that I was getting afraid to have sex with him again. I think I could have done the doctor right there on his desk, but Cayden would have had to leave the room. Even though he knew about me; for some reason I'd become afraid to let Cayden face what I'd done and what I was. It was like I could still be a whore; I just couldn't be Cayden's whore or a whore around him. I didn't think of what we'd done together that one time as being like that, and I never wanted anything like the way I used to be to happen with Cayden, not ever. I was afraid to tell him how I felt. I know he'd get mad. Honestly, my feelings about Cayden are starting to scare me. I'd been thinking I had no right to have feelings for Cayden. I couldn't get past the fact that I was a whore, or at least I used to be a whore. What I mean is I've become a person again, a real person, and he's the one who's done it, but he still knows what I was. I think I'm starting to believe I can be something else. Cayden's done something to me that makes me want to not be what I was. Cayden is a dumb farmer, and though I'm beyond thinking about stealing from him I can't see myself as being good enough to be around him, at least not for long. I know I'd only ruin his life. Then there's Angie; he loves Angie, he belongs with Angie, and I'm pretty sure Angie loves him. I care too much about Angie to ruin any chance she might have at happiness. I know what the problem is; I'm in the way. I know what the other problem is too; I'm getting a bad case of morals. ++++++++++ Cayden's displeasure. Still looking at Cayden the doctor added, "In fact, if the two of you like," he looked back at me, "I can personalize the shape and appearance of your companion's labia." He pulled some pictures from a manila folder, "I have here some examples. If you'll look, I even have one here where a young lady opted to have her labia modified so that it took on the appearance of a rose. Would either of you be interested in something like that?" Cayden had been watching the doctor's facial expressions since he'd completed his examination, and I could tell he didn't like the smirk he saw. The doctor had seen my tattoos; certainly he'd seen the small barcode across my shoulder blades and those awful black pseudo-runes just above the hairline of my vaginal patch. Cayden had scouted the Internet and found a site that had explained their meaning. The runes were intended to mean whore-slave. He'd already bought a laser repair kit. Early on I'd said I liked my tattoos, but this was one place I knew he'd be putting his foot down. I don't think the little butterfly on my ass, or the little lily on my breast bothered him so much, but the other things I was sure he'd be removing whether I liked it or not. I agreed with him. I wanted them gone. Cayden put his hands on the doctor's desk top, "Dr. Mensus my good friend Ms. Fischer has a past. I'm sure your examination revealed something of that, but neither she nor I are interested in making her more sexually provocative. It's our desire to see that she's able to return to the status of a happy normal young woman. I want Caprice to be a happy person; not a reinvigorated courtesan." I blushed at Cayden's remarks. He'd put the doctor in his place. I knew I shouldn't, but I put my arm through Cayden's. Somehow when he talked up for me like that I felt clean. He was my 'Prince Charming'. That scared me. I didn't want to change that feeling. Cayden talked up for me like I was somebody, like I was somebody who mattered; it was like when he went out and got in a fight for me. In my fantasies I could see myself staying with him forever. That was silly; I knew it could never happen. The doctor smiled, "I can assure you, when I finish Ms. Fischer will look and feel like she did when she was a happy teenaged girl. No additional enhancements need to be performed for that." Cayden looked from the doctor and then to me, "That's what I want. I want Caprice to be happy. I want that more than anything." I watched the doctor out of the corner of my eye as he and Cayden exchanged knowing looks; it made me feel like a child. Then Cayden looked at me and asked, "I want this for you. Do you want it for yourself?" I nodded and then kissed his arm; I was at loss for words, "I...uh...Cayden..." I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. It was stupid thing to do. I wanted him to...well. I shouldn't lead him on. I'm not good enough. I'm not right for him. The doctor looked at Cayden, and then at me, "I take that as an affirmation of what I'll be doing." There was extra moisture in my eyes. I only nodded. Cayden nodded too. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ A few days later I got a surprise. Well surprise, surprise! I got my period. I even got cramps! I sent Cayden out for sanitary napkins. I had been worried. At least maybe I've got one ovary going. Maybe I'm fertile? Gee I hope so. If I am maybe I'll stay. Maybe I could give Cayden another baby. I'd like that. I'd like that a lot! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Two weeks later I was signed in at a Wilmington hospital; the following morning Dr. Mensus performed the procedures, and that afternoon I was in a private room under the watchful eyes of both Cayden and Angie. Normally I would have been discharged after one night, but since Cayden was paying for everything he insisted on an extra night. Mrs. Bradford drove Angie home after the first day. Cayden slept in a chair in my room the second night. He doted on me and pampered me in much the same way I'd cared for him after he'd been beaten up at the Wagon Wheel. It was getting harder to keep my composure around him. I was falling in love, and I knew I couldn't let that happen. We didn't talk much at the hospital, but when he got me back home, I mean to his farm, Cayden turned into a chatterbox. The morning we were supposed to leave I was so weak I couldn't keep him from looking at my pussy or my rear end. He held up a mirror and I could see the red places and the bruises that had already started to emerge. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't begin to count how many men had looked at me down there, but when Cayden looked I blushed. He saw me too. He leaned forward and softly kissed my pussy and then my ass. I can't describe the way his lips felt on my body; his touch sent a shiver up my back. That's when I knew. I really knew. I had to find a way to get away before I messed up his life even worse than it already was. ++++++++++ The drive back from the hospital was quiet. I dosed and day dreamed most of the way. I know it was stupid but I pretended we were married. I pretended he was taking me home where he would take care of me for the rest of my life. There's nothing worse than imagining a future you know you can't have. We hadn't been in the living room more than thirty minutes before he started on me, "I know you don't want me to, but tomorrow I'm going to start removing some of these tattoos." I didn't care what he did to me. I tried to play it cool, "Which ones are you going to remove?" "The bar code is gone, and the stupid runes will be next to go. I think I'll leave the butterfly alone. It's a much lighter set of inks, and you may not know but it's the lighter, not the darker, ink that's the hardest to get rid of. There's no sense is causing you more pain, I mean discomfort, than necessary." I told him, "I'll do whatever you want. You can even give me more if you like." He reminded me he wasn't into tattoos, but he did have something to say, "Caprice I wouldn't change a thing about the way you look, but if I can't get these black horrors completely off maybe we could go someplace together and find things that you would like." "I'd like that Cayden. I'd like it even better if they were things you liked." Why did I say that? I can't stay. I have to leave, not because I want to but because I know I can't stay. He took my hands in his, and helped me to my feet, "I want you to lie down a while. I'm supposed to go out tonight. Angie's coming over, and she's bringing Emily and Mrs. Bradford." I let him help me to bed. I wished Angie would let him stick around a few minutes. I keep thinking she's taken the thing with her child a little too far. I might have to say something. ++++++++++ Angie and Emily and Mrs. Bradford did come over later that night. Cayden left for the library. It was Angie's night off, and he wanted to see Matt Devereau. While he was gone we women played games with Emily. I didn't bring up what I wanted to say to Angie about leaving or about trying to be nicer to Cayden. ++++++++++ Angie and Matt. Matt invited me out today. He said he'd like to take me to a presentation being made by a young author. He said it's only fiction, but he read it and liked it. He thought we could attend the discussion and then later we could go out to dinner. I told him I'd think about it. He told me not to wait too long since he had to arrange for tickets. I waited about ten minutes and told him I'd go. ++++++++++ Caprice on the mend. Cayden's turned into something of a perv. Dr. Mensus warned us that there might be some discharge. He told us some secretion was normal, but if it got too heavy or if it showed any pink I should stay in bed. I think Cayden is trying to pull something over on me. I caught that yellow green goo right away and went to Walmart and bought several packets of Kotex. Cayden saw the Kotex and went out and bought a bunch of adult throwaway diapers. I didn't know what they were called. Cayden said they were called Depends. Since then he's turned into some kind of obsessive creep. He won't let me walk anywhere. He says he doesn't trust Angie to keep me in bed so he got Aurora to agree to come by during the day. Aurora's supposed to be studying for something; L. SATs I think she called them. Anyway she's getting ready for law school, and Cayden's got her playing warden all day. What really sucks is now there's no time for Angie and me. Aurora's in on everything. ++++++++++ I'm going nuts, and Cayden's having the time of his life. Just last night he had me nearly doing cartwheels on the sofa. I can only imagine what's going on in his mind. I don't mean this in a bad way, but Cayden keeps calling me a cunt. He says he doesn't mean it to hurt; it's something he learned in the army. He says cunt is an acronym for women's thought processes; it means Can't Understand Normal Thinking! Yeah, I can easily imagine what he's thinking. I mean I hear him all night long, "Caprice you know you need to wear these diapers." He laughs at me and says things like, "You remember what the doctor said; any discharge is to be taken seriously. You know how I worry." I tell him, "For Christ's sake Cayden; you don't need to clean me every half hour?" He says, "We can't risk infection; come on now let's pull the diaper open and see what we've got." That's when he gets the diaper open and looks me over, "Mm," he say, "she's a sweet little puss, but she's looking a little gooey. I think we better clean her up." I watch as for what seems like the fiftieth time since dinner as he takes a cotton swab, wets it and pats my vagina clean. I tell him, "Cayden this is embarrassing." He holds my hands above my head so I can't do anything, "Come on Caprice. I have to pat it dry." I whimper, "Come on Cayden; stop pulling my labia apart. It tickles." He grins at me, "But I have to look inside." I whine, "Cayden you just don't look. Cut it out I have to lie here real still while you get all close, and it isn't necessary for you to fondle my insides with the tips of your fingers. And stop kissing me down there!" I tell him think he's a sadist. He purrs, "But I like kissing you down there. You're so sweet and soft." I try to fight him off, "Cayden you're too close. I mean every time? Besides it's not so much the kiss Cayden," I try to twist away but he has my hands held so tightly. "Come on Cayden, Jesus, it's not the kiss so much; it's the way you do it. You don't have to kiss each and every fold. Cayden stop kissing my clitoris and you don't have to remoisten everything with your tongue. My god Cayden it's just a vagina! Cayden this isn't fair. I know what you're doing. Now stop!" He gets me in tears. He knows what he's doing, and it's working too. The whole time he's home I'm in a constant state of sexual agitation. The worst is when he thinks it's time to go to bed. I'm never tired. I try to tell him, "Cayden I'm not tired. Can't we stay up a little longer? I want to watch my shows," I especially like CSI," he won't let me stay up that late. He comes back with the same line, "Now Caprice you remember what Dr. Mensus said; you're supposed to get plenty of rest and no moving around." I'm totally distracted, "Cayden all I do is lie around all day. Then you come home and play with my pussy. It's not fun anymore. You won't even let me walk to the bedroom, and it's all of fifteen feet." Crap then he goes at it again, "Caprice I can't take a chance on this. I'm carrying you until I'm satisfied you won't have an accident." I love and I hate it, "Cayden put me down! I'm not a baby!" Oh shit, "Stop snuggling me! God damn it, stop kissing my tits. They're sensitive!" The bastard has to carry me every place. He carries me like I'm a fucking baby, "Put me down on the bed. I can walk," Where's he going now? Not back in the bathroom. I hear the water running, "Oh no Cayden! Not another douche!" If I try to climb out of bed he's back in like a laser, "No you don't girl. I'll just get you back in bed. Here let me get beside you. Mm, this is nice. Let me just clean your puss out again. Then I'll get the enema bag!" This goes on all night long. I can hardly stand it, "Cayden your penis is pressing against the lower part of my vagina. Oh please honey you know how that makes me feel." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 05 The bastard, he knows I can't do anything. I just lie in bed and get hotter and hotter. All night I have to lie there while he rubs his hands over my breasts. He likes to rub the palms of his hands over my nipples till they pop out. He uses that damn Skin so Soft. Damn it feels good. He keeps nibbling on my neck and kissing me, "Come on Cayden, please. I'll never get to sleep if you keep doing this. No you don't need to brush my hair again. I can floss my own teeth thank you. Cayden put the damn lip gloss down. Stop it with the blush; you know I don't wear makeup in bed!" He's awful, "I'm just thinking of you sweetheart. Caprice it's like you're my girl. I have to take care of you." I never heard such bullshit, "Cayden you're a sadistic bastard. You can tell when I'm about to fall asleep; that's when you start massaging my ass cheeks. How am I going to get to sleep with you down there kissing my asshole? Cayden leave my rectum alone!" ++++++++++ Honestly, since Dr. Owen fixed me when Cayden's down there it's a completely new experience. It tickles like crazy! I wish he would stop. Tell the truth Dr. Mensus did a good job. My pussy looks like a child's. He had to shave me, and since then Cayden's been keeping it free of any hair. He says he's doing it for sanitary reasons, but I know the truth, he just likes to spread the shaving cream over me and use his razor. Needless to say, every shave requires a lot more of his hellacious kissing. I love it! I'd love it a lot more if he'd let me get off, but every time he senses I'm close he stops. What's extra scary; I think I could get off! "Oh Cayden, please will you just cut it out? Jesus I already told you I haven't climaxed in years, and now I spend all day writhing and squirming on the edge." I know one thing, and I'm serious about this. My pussy is like new, it's clean, clear, pink and pure, just like when I was a young girl. I've seen Cayden's penis. He's been circumcised, he's kind of big, and he's pretty and clean. I've seen some ugly peckers in my day. I can say Cayden's got to have the most beautiful penis I've ever seen. Damn him. He won't let me near it. I'd love to take his big thing and put it in my mouth. I never thought I'd ever say something like that! He keeps kissing me; well I could kiss him too! ++++++++++ For sure, I always thought sucking on a man's dick was disgusting and degrading, but I'd love to get at Cayden's. I guess it depends on the dick; I mean whose dick it is. Cayden's is beautiful; he's beautiful. I see him drinking that pineapple juice. He knows. I know too. Pineapple juice makes man's sperm taste sweet. Yeah, I'd love to do Cayden, but I'd have to do it in the bedroom. I mean like a husband and wife. I never want to be a whore again. When the time comes I want Cayden to be the first. I mean it's like I have a brand new puss. I know I shouldn't think this, but I'd really like him to be my first, last, and only from now on. I can't have those thoughts. He's got Angie, "Cayden cut it out honey." "Can't Caprice; got to make sure you're all right." I called him honey. I know he liked that. He thinks I'm scrumptious, I guess I am, he said so. ++++++++++ Angie and Matt are back from their date. "Matt, I want to thank you. I had a wonderful time. I admit I didn't understand everything the speaker talked about, but I loved dinner. I never had lobster before." I kissed him on the cheek and closed the door behind me. I leaned against the door, and listened as he drove away. That was dreamy. Matt Devereau scratched his crotch; it looked like another five finger work out. He reflected on the night, 'I didn't get a real kiss goodnight, but I wasn't expecting it. These people, these people down here are backward. Everything around here is crabs; crabs, beer and flounder. I've got to admit though I was pleasantly surprised at her appearance. She's not much in the material department, no tits to speak of, skimpy ass, but she looks good in a dress. That sailor outfit suited her; she looked like a little girl. Angie rolled her eyes skyward. She walked slowly up the stairs. Her thought s drifted back to her librarian, 'Gee Matt was so dreamy. He's such a gentleman. He holds doors, walks on the outside. He even held my hand. I haven't been treated like that since...since well...just since...well Cayden. I hope he asks me out again.' She heard some movement in her room. She opened the door, "Mommy I got scared so I decided to sleep in your bed." "That's OK honey." "Mommy will you tell me a story?" "Sure sweetie, just let me wash up first." "Tell me a story that has a daddy." "OK baby; how the one about the three bears'?" "No mommy, I mean a real daddy." "All right, just let mommy clean up first." Matt stopped at the only street light in town, 'She's not half bad, a little squirrely, not real bright, but I figure three dates and I'll be in her panties. I bet she's small. I'll have to be careful though; she's been around; I don't want to catch anything. I don't want to lead her on either. This isn't going anyplace, just to my apartment, just to my bed. I've heard about the ex-husband. He's not much. If he get cute I've got Karate; he won't get far.' ++++++++++ Back on the farm. "Now Caprice you knew I was removing at least two tattoos." "I know Cayden, but is it necessary to tie me to the bed?" "Come on Caprice. You're pussy's still on the mend. If you start squirming and thrashing you might hurt yourself. I know tattoos hurt. I was warned they hurt even more when they're taken off." I knew that was probably true. There'd been girls who'd had one tattoo removed so another could be etched in over top. They all always said the removal was ten times worse. I never wanted any of them in the first place, but I didn't have much choice. Somebody else owned my body. Cayden owns it now; at least as far as the tattoos go, "Cayden be careful. I know you're right, just try not to hurt me too much." I trusted him. I felt like shit. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but these awful ownership tattoos had to go. I didn't want anyone to ever get the wrong impression about Caprice again. What she did later was up to her, but I wanted her to be completely free to decide for herself. There shouldn't be any signals some man would use to take advantage of. She can send her own signals. I turned on the equipment and began. "Oh Shit," she screamed. I don't know if I'll be able to do it. This could take hours. I guess sometimes it's true; you always hurt the one you love. ++++++++++ We lay side by side on the bed; I'd been at it with the machine for nearly two hours. I saw it would take several sessions. The tattooist told me just once every week or so, and always in a different place. He explained the laser broke up the ink beneath the skin, but it could take weeks before the body hauled it off. She's curled up in my arms, "I'm sorry Caprice, but I know it's the right thing." She pulled my head down and kissed me, "It hurts Cayden, it really hurts." I wanted to just cry or maybe cuss, I never wanted to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt anyone ever again; especially not her, and not Angie. ++++++++++ I got a call from my friend at police headquarters. He's an older guy; he's head of the state police at the county barracks. I'm supposed to go over today. Yeah, they got a report on Caprice's fingerprints. I got there and Hank, that's my friend, took me back in his office. He said I could read everything, but I couldn't take a copy with me. He did let me take some notes. Now I know her real name. I know where she grew up, where she started college, and I sort of figured out what happened. It seems she'd been arrested several times; mostly for being a public nuisance, never for solicitation. Hank said public nuisance was police speak for selling sex, but someone had always intervened to keep her out of jail. Yeah, I got her name, where she grew up, her parent's names, and where they live. It's crazy they're still alive. They still check up all the time to see if their daughter's turned up anywhere. Jesus, she could have been on a milk carton if they still did that when she disappeared. Christ, she's been gone over twelve years! She must have run away right after she turned eighteen. It looks like she thought she was in love, but the guy was a real pro. He fooled the shit out of her. It looks like before she knew it she was too far gone to get away. Now I'm in a real quandary. What do I do with this? I've got to think this through. Damn it. I've got to tell her parents. I can at least do that much. ++++++++++ That bastard Cook! Pastor Cook walked me into his office, "I'm glad you stopped by Cayden. I've been meaning to call you." I listened politely. I bet he was going to call me; the son of a bitch. I trusted him. He's been fucking up my life. "Pastor I'm worried. Since Angie and Caprice have been coming to you they've started to behave differently." "Differently Cayden? How so?" "Well look here. You know who they are. You know their histories. I've been trying to protect them. I don't want Angie slipping back with the likes of that creep Keith, and you and I both know prostitution is no life for any woman, and I think I've got Caprice started in the right direction." "We sure agree on those counts Cayden, but I don't understand. What's got you so upset?" "Come on Bill. I can call you Bill can't I?" He nodded, "These are my girls. I feel responsible for them. Now I see Angie's been out with this Devereau character. I'm sure he's a nice guy. I just don't want to see her getting hurt again. And Caprice, well she's still home recovering from several surgeries. By the way I'm glad you agreed to come by the house to see her. But every time you leave she acts differently." "Differently?" "Yeah, well strange, like she acts like she wants to move out, you know move away. She gets all wistful; like she gets this faraway look in her eyes. I tell you Bill she's not ready for that." Let's see. Cayden can I ask you a couple questions?" "Gee sure Bill." "How old are these girls as you call them?" "Well Angie's almost thirty, and Caprice I think is thirty." "They're not girls Cayden. They're grown women." "Of course, I know that, but they're both vulnerable. They've been through a lot. They're both...well...they need someone." "Someone like you?" "Yeah, someone like me. Someone who'll take care of them, you know see they don't get into trouble." "You love them don't you Cayden." Sure I do. Angie was my wife once, and Caprice; you know where I found her. Sure I love them, I guess." "No I mean do you love them. I suppose I'm asking if you really and truly love them." "Of course, that's why I'm so worried. They've been seeing you. You don't get it. They need me. Someone has to be there to watch out for them. They could get hurt!" "Cayden." "Bill." "Cayden think about what you just said. Ask yourself. You remember back before you got home from the army wasn't Angie with her father?" "Yeah, but he was a bastard." "He took care of her." "He ran her life. Have you seen her room? He put bars on her windows. I saw them; they're still there." "What about Caprice?" "What about her?" "Cayden, what did she have before she met you?" "She had a pimp." "What are you doing now? "You know what I'm doing. I'm watching out for her, for both of them. I'm protecting them." "With Angie Cayden, how is what you're doing. I mean paying all her bills, getting her a meaningless menial job, keeping her from getting her driver's license. I mean how are you being any different than her father?" I started to object, but Cook held up his hand, "Don't deny it. It's been you that's kept her from driving." "Pastor, look at her. You see how small she is. You think she could handle a big vehicle?" "Cayden we'll never know will we? Not as long as you keep her chained to her mother and to you." "That's not fair. I love Angie. I want her to be happy." "Cayden, do you want her to be happy or do you want her to be dependent on you all her life. What would happen if something happened to you? Then where would she be." "OK, OK, I get your point about the car. I'll buy her a car." "You'll buy her a car. No doubt you'll pay the insurance. You'll decide what kind of car she wants. What if she wants a motorcycle?" "Are you crazy? Do you know how dangerous they are?" "Cayden she's almost thirty, not thirteen. She's old enough to make her own decisions." "Pastor Cook I need her to be safe. She's got my baby..." "That's what it's about isn't it?" "Her baby, Emily." "No, it's about what you need. You need her to depend on you. You need to manage what she does. Are you any different than her father? He puts bars on her windows. You've put bars on her spirit. Cayden you've got to let her go." "This sucks. You suck Cook! I thought we were together on this. Shit you're a counselor; you're not supposed to give answers." "I'm not talking to Angie. I'm talking to you. If you love her, you've got to set her free." "Shit she's free now. She won't have anything to do with me." "You're still her jailor Cayden. Tell her how you feel, then let her go." "This is really fucked up; still tell me, what are you doing to Caprice?" "Caprice is a real hard case. No one wants her to go back to what she was, but that's her decision. You have to face this. You can't hide her in your house forever. She had a pimp who kept her locked up. Now she's a prisoner in your house. I know you have feelings for her. She has feelings for you too. But Cayden, love commands it seldom obeys. You can't keep taking her to doctors for different surgeries. Sooner or later you'll run out of reasons to keep her trapped in your house." I was getting fucking pissed, "Look Caprice has my car. She can go anywhere she wants. I give her all the money she needs." "Your car. Your insurance. Your money. You decide how much she needs." I was really pissed, "I don't keep Caprice locked up. I'm not trying to run Angie's life!" "Cayden they both love you, but they're afraid to hurt you." I'd had enough. This bastard is supposed to be a man of God, but he's fucking up everything! I left. I sat in my truck and steamed about what Cook said to me. God damn it I wasn't trying to run their lives. What was I supposed to do; let Keith gang bang her in the pool room that night? I got her a fucking job. OK it wasn't the greatest, but it was all I could find. I want her to be happy! God damn it I want her to be happy with me! I want her to be with me! Is that so wrong? He's wrong about Caprice though. When I found her she was a dead woman. Was I wrong to fix her teeth, get her some glasses, repair her rectum, re-do her vagina? She needed those things. I wasn't being selfish! She was a helpless little...No...fuck...I... I wasn't remaking her so I could... All right I'll change. I'll set it up so Caprice can get out. I'll find a way to help Angie be more... I'm going to go see that fucker Devereau! ++++++++++ Matt and I have been dating. He's a really nice guy. He's handsome and so far he hasn't tried anything, not much anyway. But, and this is a big but; he's been a little more familiar than I like, and I'm not sure if he's clever or if he's just shy. I really like him. I like him a lot, and I bet he'd be a terrific husband, but there just seems to be something that I can't put my finger on. Honestly, what happened the other night kind of bothered me. Actually it bothered me a lot. I had a talk about it with Caprice, and believe me she wasn't very reassuring. I'll have to reflect on what we said some more. I remember asking Caprice, "Caprice what do you think of Matt?" She answered, "Seems OK to me. How do you feel about him?" "He started out so nice, but lately I'm not so sure." "How so," asked Caprice? "He buys me presents." "That's bad?" "First he bought me a pretty pin." "The little angel pin?" "That's it; then he got me some perfume. He said he'd smelled it at the department store and immediately thought of me." "You mean the Chanel; it's nice. I like it." "He bought me a pretty white scarf." "The one you're wearing now?" "Yes, do you like it?" "It's beautiful." "Did you know he bought me a pair of panties?" Caprice sat up and leaned forward, "Really." "Yes, he said he thought my panties left a line when I wore slacks. So he said he bought me something that would fit better." "Did you accept them?" "Yes." "You wore them?" "Yes." "And he asked if he could see them." "He did." "And you showed him." "Well I had a skirt on. I just lifted it a little." "Angie he thinks he's a player, but I tell you he's clumsy." "I don't know Caprice. I don't think he's done anything too sexy so far." "Angie he's not being sexy; he's being a predator, and not a very good one either. Just watch. He's not done with the scarf." "What do you mean about the scarf?" Caprice took my hands, "He's tried something hasn't he." I squirmed, "He wanted me to use it to touch his dick." "In a restaurant?" "In a restaurant." "Did you?" "Uh...yes. I mean he took it off my neck and asked me to... Well I took it. He pulled down his fly, and... and I...uh...reached in and...well I did...touch him...I mean..." "He ejaculated, and now he wants you to do more." I nodded my head. Caprice frowned, "I know you're not letting this go any further." "But I..." "Yeah, you like him. He's been so nice. He takes you to nice places. He pays attention to you. He might even make you his girlfriend. Someday he might even ask you to marry him." I sat there immobile. Caprice had it all covered. Then she crushed me. "Don't be stupid Angie. It's time for you to turn the tables, and I know how you can do it." I remember asking, "You do?" "Look the weather's warming up. Cayden asked me if I would go to the Fireman's Dance next week. You get Matt to take you. If he backs out you'll know he's not interested in being seen with you. If he agrees, I suggest you watch him and watch anybody else you might know." I asked her, "You mean Cayden?" Caprice shook her head in disbelief, "Who else." ++++++++++ My home town volunteer fire department had scheduled its Memorial Day Dance. It wasn't actually set for Memorial Day; it was planned for the week before, that way vacations wouldn't be affected and all the work that had to be done at the beach wouldn't be interrupted. I found Angie and Caprice sitting out back looking over the lawn and the woods beyond. I'd just about decided to have an in ground pool built out back, but since my talk with Pastor Cook I wasn't so sure. I just knew if I could find a way to keep my girls around I could make all three of them very happy. I of course included my daughter; the as yet unrecognized little Emily in my plans. It's a mess; I have all this money, and it looks like there won't be anybody to share it with. I stepped out back, "Anybody up for a coke or an iced tea?" Caprice looked up, and after lifting her sun glasses answered, "A coke would be nice." Angie, unsmiling, answered, "Tea for me, no sugar or sweetener, just some lemon." I walked back inside. I kept my ears peeled to what they were saying. Caprice frowned at Angie, "He wears his heart on his sleeve Angie." "I don't care." Caprice sat up in her lounge chair and leaned in to face Angie, "You can't lie to me." Angie gave her friend a petulant look, "I'm thinking about maybe marrying Matt." "You don't really mean that." Angie lifted her chin, "I do, and I'm going to give him what he wants too. All he has to do is ask." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 06 The Curse of the Scots, Part Six Three people; all in love. It's a mess! The next morning when I awakened Cayden was already up and gone. He left me a note saying he had some work to do, but he'd be back in time for lunch. He thanked me for wonderful evening. I yawned and stretched; I think did a good imitation of Vivian Leigh after the night Clark Gable carried her up the stairs in 'Gone with the Wind'. Last night had been wonderful. It had hurt like hell, but it was worth it. Cayden hadn't said much, but I saw the look on his face. I know he's in love. He loves me. That's when it occurred to me again, for what seemed like the thousandth time; I was still dealing with a stupid backward farmer, and an ethnic Scot to boot. He loved me sure, but he was still who he was. It would take more than last night to get what I wanted. I reflected on what I knew and I had heard about the Scottish. They were reputed to be stingy, but history disproved that. They were, as a point in fact, a very generous people. Cayden had certainly showed his generosity toward me. They were a practical but also an incredibly sentimental people. Most were reputed to be good humored, self-deprecating, and above all loyal. The big downside was the long Protestant tradition; the Calvinist thing. How did I know all this? I couldn't say, but the Calvin thing was Cayden's big drawback. I could see it in everything he did. He had many blessings, but it was like for every good thing he got he was waiting for someone or something to come and take it away or at least muck it up. What was that old adage; 'the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.' I thought of another one; 'You can but you can't, you will but you won't, you'll be damned if you do, you'll be damned if you don't.' Where did I get this stuff? I couldn't figure it out, but I knew one thing; somewhere Cayden was out driving around happy about what we discovered about each other last night, but I bet now he was also waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had to face my fears. I knew I wasn't good enough, I'd never be good enough, not for him, but I was going to make my play. I would get him. I'd make him mine, but I realized I needed to do something more. I needed to push him over the edge. My bet was in the next day or two the something I'd need would show up on its own. I'd just have to wait. ++++++++++ Angie has her demons too. Matt really tried to put it to me last night; I guess what the guys would call the old full court press. He told me how much he cared about me. He told me he thought I was pretty; I know that was a little over the top. Cayden's the only man who told me he thought I was pretty who I ever sincerely believed. Matt talked to me about Emily and how sweet she is. He gently reminded me about all the things we'd done together. Honestly, he went right to the edge; he almost suggested all our dates and time together had been his down payment on my body. He came close to the classic; 'look at all I've done for you, now how about some payback.' I could have gone either way; he was within a hair of getting inside my panties, he was also within a hair of getting the boot. For sure, I'm not ready to give it up, not to him, not yet. I might be close, but not yet. Matt's going to have to say and do a whole lot more before he gets a piece of me. Bernard might have gotten some, but those were punishment fucks aimed at Cayden, the only other one was Cayden...Cayden...my Cayden, the boy I remembered. ++++++++++ Cayden pays a man a visit. I got out of my car and walked up the ramp that led to the outside door of Matt Devereau's library office. I didn't want to bother him inside; I thought maybe the outer door would be better. There were several people walking around outside. Yeah, it's a Saturday, bad day for this kind of thing, too many people around. I knocked anyway. Devereau opened the seldom used outside door to his office. I was waiting for him. Matt stepped outside, "Yes Mr. McLeish?" I asked, "Got a minute?" He replied, "What for?" I told him, "I wanted to ask how Angie's doing." Matt didn't offer to let me inside; he stood at the door and answered, "She's doing fine Mr. McLeish. Her work record is good. She's acclimated herself quite well to the overall environment." I realized I needed to clarify what I meant, "That's not exactly what I was here about Matt." He asked, "What else could it be?" I started, "You know she's my ex-wife. I wondered..." Devereau butted in, "Mr. McLeish who she was or what she did before I hired her is immaterial. She's my employee, and I find her work satisfactory." I stepped a little closer, "You've been dating her. Is that library policy?" He answered but didn't back away, "Yes I have taken her out a few times, but frankly Mr. McLeish I don't think that's any of your business." I leaned further forward. I didn't mean to touch him; it was a complete accident, but as we talked I inadvertently tapped my index finger against his chest. It was an honest mistake. I didn't mean anything by it. When I thumped him on his chest he must have acted on instinct. I'd never dealt with anyone who knew Karate. He snapped my finger back, popped his thumb against my Adam 's apple, stuck out a foot, and with an arm landed me on my back. Once I was down I guess he had no choice but to warn me. He pointed his finger at me, "Mr. McLeish you shouldn't strike at people you don't know. I'm sorry. I should have warned you. I'm somewhat familiar with the martial arts." Holy shit, he had me on my back before I could've said oops or something. He reached down and offered me his hand. I accepted it, "I'm sorry Matt I wasn't trying anything. It was a mistake. I'm just worried about my ex-wife." He bristled at me, "Angie's a grown woman. She's here by virtue of a Federal grant. Though I report on her activities I'm not her supervisor in the normal sense so our off duty contacts aren't technically in violation of any rules. As for your assault, I'll overlook it this time, but don't try anything like that again." Assault? I was humiliated. What I'd done was hardly an assault! Worse at least a dozen people saw a scrawny librarian put me on my ass. Damn, couldn't I take anybody? I tried to recover, "Look Mr. Devereau I have a right to ask you about my ex-wife..." He sort of spat back, "Maybe you do, but I'm not obliged to tell you anything. She's a grown woman. I imagine when I tell her how you were meddling in her life this morning she'll want to take some action. If she does I'll support her. Mr. McLeish you're a rich man. You have influence in this town, but be careful; don't go too far." I'll bet there were twenty people crowding around when he said that. I felt like shit, "Sorry Mr. Devereau. I just worry about my ex-wife sometimes. I'll be going now." I got out of there as fast as I could. ++++++++++ Later that afternoon shortly after I got back home Caprice sort of shuffled over, she took my left wrist, and sat me down. I knew it. She'd already heard, "Cayden you made a mistake today." What could I say? I sort of mumbled, "Bad news sure travels fast." "Angie called. She's real upset. She's upset with Matt because he might have hurt you. But she's especially upset with you because she's not sure how she feels about Mr. Devereau. Cayden she's talked to me. I think she's serious about the librarian." I didn't know what to say so I said something totally stupid, "I've got to go check the horses." I grabbed my hat and left. ++++++++++ The Firemen's Dance had been Friday night. Cayden got slapped around by Matt on Saturday. Sunday he and Caprice were back in church. As soon as we walked in the church I knew something was up. Barry Campbell, Oren Camel, Bert McCabe, even Bernard Keith; half the men in town were there. We sat down in what had become our customary place, and in no time we were braced by a dozen of the biggest toughest guys in the area. Caprice was dressed in a pretty plum colored sundress. With her hair up in pigtails and with her new tortoise shell glasses she looked prettier than the sunshine streaming through the stained glass windows. She acted like nothing was going on, but I knew I'd be in for it after church. Pastor Cook looked extra pleased; he'd not had so many young men in church in a long time. I'm sure he knew, considering where they were all sitting, why they were there. We went through the usual litany, the call to worship, opening hymns, reading the Biblical passages, the children's message, the sermon, the offering, a closing hymn, and the benediction. Caprice's voice was like the sound of a beautiful lark. It sent shivers up and down my spine. I loved being with her. Church over I got up and started to help Caprice out of her seat; that's when all hell broke loose. One by one every one of those no goods had to stop over say something and try to hold Caprice's hand. She enjoyed it, or she acted like she did. Me, I was Kawlija again; just like the old wooden Indian I stood by and didn't say anything. We made our way outside; she and I were standing in the grass. I was talking to Mrs. Stump and Alice Pressley when Campbell sidled up. He walked over and just like he'd known her all his life. He took Caprice's hand, "The Sharptown Carnival's this week. They have the best fried oyster sandwiches on the Shore. I was thinking maybe I could take you over and buy you one." I thought, 'Hell in a hand basket, I was going to take her to Sharptown. I just figured...' Before I could get a word in Caprice flashed Campbell one of her big smiles and said, "Sure, what night did you have in mind?" 'Night? Whoa!' I thought... Campbell said, "How about tomorrow night?" I almost shit my pants! I was cut off at the pass by the sneakiest fox this side of the henhouse. I started to say something, "I..." Caprice turned and smiled at me, "You don't mind do you Cayden?" Was she kidding? Of course I minded! What was Friday night all about? Didn't our night of love mean anything? Two nights ago I thought I'd died and gone to heaven, and now? I dumbly answered, "No, I guess not." Campbell shook her hand, he smiled, "Seven o'clock?" She smiled back, "See you then." Then she put her hand on my arm, she looked up at me and said just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Thanks daddy." What? I was her father, her god damn chaperone? I didn't say anything. I helped her to the car. We drove home in silence. I went inside just long enough to change from my Sunday clothes to a pair of overalls. I had to get out of there! ++++++++++ Caprice thought about Barry Campbell's timing. That man, Barry Campbell? He came along at exactly the right time. Cayden's so backward and shy; if I waited for him I'd be an old maid before he got around to really doing anything. Whore or not; I've turned the page. My new life is about to begin. This could be just the kick in the pants Cayden needs. Sure I'll let Campbell take me out. Who am I to turn down a free oyster sandwich, but Campbell isn't going anywhere. My heart is set; worthy or not, if Angie is all for Matt Devereau, then Cayden will be mine! ++++++++++ It's Monday night! Cayden grits his teeth. Well that no good Campbell came. Man she couldn't wait to jump in his car. I never knew Campbell had a Toyota. He was well dressed, but damn it, so was she. In a way I wished I hadn't given her a credit card. She'd taken my Lexus, gone to the mall, and bought herself a brand new outfit. She looked good too; the dark slacks and white blouse suited her. I noticed she had on another pair of shoes, higher heels than she normally wears. I guess she figured since Campbell was so much taller than me she could wear a higher heel. She had her hair done different too, not a pony tail, she had it feathered or something. Yeah it's grown out a lot since she first had it cut. I should've said something yesterday when we were at church. Damn! I mean God damn! ++++++++++ Barry and I went to the Sharptown Carnival on Monday. When he got me home he asked if I'd like to join him Thursday. He said we could go to the seashore, have a nice meal, and maybe take a walk on the boardwalk. I said sure. Barry's not a bad guy. I expected he'd be more concerned with my boobs than me, but he turned out to be a good date. ++++++++++ That damn Campbell! He really pissed me off. I found out Caprice is going out with him again. He's taking her to the beach. She got a call while we were eating. Then Oren Camel asked her out. He's taking her someplace this Saturday. I hope he doesn't keep her out so late she decides to skip church. What am I going to do? ++++++++++ Caprice really enjoys herself. I can't believe how great things have been lately. I've been out like two or three times a week for the past three weeks. Barry's been my main escort, but Oren's taken me places, and Lacy and Curtis have had me out to eat. The phone won't stop ringing. Cayden hasn't said anything. In fact we hardly talk at all. He sleeps in the bedroom across the hall. All he does is work. I think he's sulking. In fact I'm sure that's what he's doing. I wished he'd step up to the plate. The boys have all been gentlemen, but I know men, they talk, and Barry's been getting a little possessive. The other night he and I were at the Wagon Wheel. I don't like the place much, but Barry likes to stop off every now and then just to see who's there. We went in, and when Lacy came over Barry sort of nudged him away. Cayden's been avoiding me, and all the other guys have more or less bowed out to Barry. I like him, but I'm just not interested. I mean he's been good to date, and I thought it would stir Cayden to action. It hasn't happened; Cayden behaves like I'm punishing him. Frankly he's punishing himself. I wished he grow a set. I let Barry kiss me for the first time last night. He tried to feel me outside my dress. I put a quick stop to that. He didn't argue. I let him kiss me goodnight when he helped me out of his car. I think Cayden saw it. I hope he did anyway. ++++++++++ Angie's off tonight so I backed out on a date with Barry. I'm glad I did. I haven't had a chance to talk to Angie in a while. I want to see how she's getting along with Matt. Besides Barry's been getting pushy lately. He keeps placing his hand on my thigh when we're at the restaurant. We spend entirely too much time at the Wagon Wheel to suit me. The place is a dive, and when we're there Barry keeps trying to touch me. He tried to rest his hand on my ass in front of the other men a night ago. I'm not stupid; I've been around and I know when I'm on display. I think he's talking. I know men, they lie. I bet he's telling the others things are happening that aren't. I need to touch base with a friend. That's Angie. ++++++++++ Angie surprised the hell out of me, "You know Caprice, Barry is bragging. He's telling everybody he got in your pants." I was and wasn't surprised, "You're kidding. You don't believe it do you?" "It's not what I believe Caprice. It's dunderhead across the hall that worries me," she pointed to Cayden's bedroom. "If he hears something he'll either crawl under a rock someplace or run out to the Wagon Wheel and get beat up again." Angie was right. Cayden was a big fool. I know I'd have to do something. I told Angie as much, "I'll have to put a stop to Barry. We can't have Cayden getting another black eye." Then Angie hit me with her problem, "I'll be honest with you. Matt's not much better. We seldom go anywhere anymore. He takes me to his apartment and we watch television and wrestle all night. He's no muscle man, but he's still a lot stronger than me. I don't mind giving up a little boob," Angie laughed at that. She has small breasts, "but if he wants in my drawers, he'll have to marry me." I asked, "You think he'll ask you?" She shrugged and answered, "No, not really. I don't love him anyway. Cayden's a dolt, but I think he ruined me for any other man." "You'd marry Cayden if he asked you." "Yeah, I know I would. I can't pretend to hate him forever. I think I'm over that. He's just so damn aggravating." Angie leaned over and stroked one of my breasts, "Yeah, if he ever asked me, I'd marry him, but hey, I think he wants you." Angie had just ruined my evening and maybe my life. I'd been holding out for Cayden for weeks, but he's been so childish. Now Angie says she wants back in his life. I'd made up my mind before; Angie would always come first. I reached across the bed for her, "Come here." Angie crawled across the bed toward me. I sat up on my knees, "I'm going to tie you up tonight." Angie lay down on her back. I slowly unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. I liked the soft silky feel of her blouse. She wasn't wearing a bra. I took her tiny breasts in my hands and started kneading them. Her nipples popped right out. I knew they would. I pulled down her panties and her mini. She was freshly shaved. She knew me. I tied her hands to the headboard and slowly kissed my way down her body till I got to her pussy. She was already soaking wet. I loved Angie; not like I loved Cayden; but I still loved her just the same. I was mad at her tonight. She was going to find her way back into Cayden's life. I decided I'd find an excuse to spank her tonight. She liked it anyway, and I needed to punish her. ++++++++++ Cayden is immersed in self-pity. I laid there in my lonesome bed feeling sorry for myself. I listened to the two women I cared about more than my life as they made love across the hall. Caprice was giving Angie a spanking. I could hear the sharp smacks through the door. Caprice must be mad about something, or Angie must have done something wrong. I'm no pervert, but I wished I was in there with them. I don't know what I'm going to do about Campbell. The Fire Hall is having its oyster and ham social next Sunday a week. I better ask Caprice first thing tomorrow before anybody else gets to her. Cayden quietly got out of bed and crept into the kitchen to get a glass of orange juice. As he passed by Caprice and Angie's room he overheard some of their conversation. "Caprice why won't you let me touch you?" "Oh Angie since my surgeries there's only been one person who's touched me. I don't know; it's not that I don't love you because I do, it's that...well now I think I want to keep my special places more to myself. Please don't think of me as being selfish. I just..." "You let Barry Campbell..." Cayden couldn't bear to hear any more. He rushed back into his bedroom before he heard another word. He climbed back into bed, and wrapped his head in his pillow. His mind and heart were a shambles. Had Caprice let Campbell have her? No she couldn't have. She said only one person had touched her since...but what if she meant one person other than me? No that couldn't be right! It was possible though. She and Campbell were so close. They were always on top of each other; she might not have considered the love she shared with me that one night as being as important as I thought it was. ++++++++++ Across the hall Caprice held her tongue; better to let Angie think it was Campbell than to admit it was Cayden. To her way of thinking Angie came first with Cayden; she couldn't interfere with that. She told Angie, "Roll back over on your back. I'm through spanking you." Angie rolled back over. Caprice lowered herself to the smaller woman's vagina. She started to suck on Angie's slit. Angie, hands tied tightly above her head, began to squirm helplessly, "Oh Caprice." Caprice poured her anger and frustration out on Angie's clitoris and vaginal walls; she'd overwhelm her, she'd torture her with her lips and tongue until she was delirious with pleasure. The Curse of the Scots Ch. 06 Angie whimpered, "Oh come on." Hands kneading and massaging Angie's small breasts; Caprice pressed her face into the other woman's womb. Angie cried out. ++++++++++ The next morning a somber Cayden heard the phone ring. He heard a groggy Caprice talk to someone. Whoever it was must have asked her something because he heard a halfhearted yes. Christ! He jumped out of bed. Campbell must have called early and asked her to the social! He pulled his boxers back on; shirtless he raced into the kitchen, "Caprice have you told anyone you'd go with them to the oyster supper?" She spun around as Cayden swept into the room. She had to smile. He looked magnificent, thin hips, muscular legs. The muscles of his abdomen, though not those of a body builder or gymnast, had that well defined look of a man who worked hard and ate intelligently. His arms weren't what she'd call muscular, but he was well muscled. He had the look of a man who seldom, if ever, worked out, but he had the look of a man who knew the meaning of work. She'd always thought there was something artificial, phony, about men who passed on real work to go to the gym. Too narcissistic she thought. There wasn't anything narcissistic about Cayden, his bronzed skin, lithe muscularity; wispy bleached chest hair marked him as the real thing, a real man. Her heart skipped a beat, "Cayden?" I stepped close, close enough to embrace her, but didn't, "I was wondering, has anyone said anything about the oyster supper?" Shit! Oh shit! What had she been thinking? Of course she should be going to the supper with Cayden. What had she just done? Stupid, stupid woman, "I...uh. I just got off the phone with Barry." I saw the look on her face; it told it all. A day late and dollar short I mumbled, "Never mind," I started back toward my bedroom. Caprice tried to recover. How could she have been so stupid? Here was the man she wanted. Where had she been? She moved to him and put her arms around him, "I'm sorry..." I backed away; no mercy hugs for me, "That's OK.I hadn't planned on going anyway." No! She couldn't allow that. He had to be there, date or not, she knew he had to be there, "No Cayden you have to attend." She had to think of something, "They'll be installing the new officers. You'll have to be on hand for that. Besides..." I didn't let her finish, "Yeah, you're right. I'm an outgoing officer. Someone will have to help swear in the new people," I added lamely, "Maybe I'll see you there." She changed the subject, "Can I fry you up some eggs?" Angie came in; she saw Cayden in his underwear and blushed. She wasn't supposed to like him. She wasn't supposed to have anything to do with him, but wow didn't he look glorious, "Eggs? I'll have some, fried if you don't mind." Reflecting on the previous night she walked over and kissed Caprice. She whispered, "Good morning lover." I heard her, "No eggs for me. I've got to get to the barn. I was already halfway back to my bedroom when I said it. My day and week had been ruined and I hadn't even brushed my teeth yet. Angie watched him retreat, she asked Caprice, "Something wrong?" Caprice nodded, "It's unbelievable. Fried eggs you said?" Angie pulled up a chair, "And toast and coffee, oh and some orange juice. Can you get me home? Emily will be up soon." Caprice went toward the refrigerator to get her girlfriend her OJ. She granted Angie a wan smile, "Right after breakfast." ++++++++++ A couple days later Angie was thinking, 'I'd been cooling toward Matt lately. He's still the same kind and considerate man he'd always been at work, but our last couple dates have a revealed a side of him I'm not happy about. I'm sure he knows some things about my past; how Cayden and I had split up, and of course, my relationship with Bernard. Jesus that was a mistake! That was still a fresh topic among the rumor crews around town.' I considered my possibilities and took him up on another date. Matt offered to take me to a dinner theater. I'd heard about them; there were two in our area. I'd heard they were quite enjoyable. He'd picked me up at 6:30. He was dressed nattily in a tan sport coat and dark brown slacks. He knocked on the door, my mom let him in, and he frolicked about with Emily while I finished my makeup. I wasn't sure, but I kind of thought this date would be our swan song. I had my reasons. For one I'd realized Matt's interest in me was more about what I had in my panties then in anything long term, and I more or less decided I wasn't putting out any more unless it was for either Caprice or maybe someday for Cayden. I guess that was the second reason. I was in love. I knew I was in love with Caprice. I didn't think I was a lesbian, but I knew I had strong feelings for her. But then there was Cayden. I had to admit it; I'd always loved him. Oh I hated what he'd done to me, but through it all I realized now I never stopped loving the rascal. I knew I could never let him out of my life. Then there was the third reason; that was Pastor Cook's reason. The Pastor had helped me see my future was bound up tightly with Emily's future. The way he got me to see it; if I couldn't keep myself straight then how would I ever be able to provide Emily with the guidance she'd need some day. The way the Pastor explained it girls were tough to raise; especially after they turned thirteen. I had to mind myself or she'd use my behavior as an excuse to do things she shouldn't. ++++++++++ I remember the date; heck it was only a few days ago! The night of the big date came. I was surprised. Matt helped me put on my light wrap, and then he handed me a small wrist corsage. No one had ever given me any kind flowers before, not even Cayden. He walked me to his car, helped me in, and we started off for the dinner theater. I never had such a good time. The actors served us our meals, and then they performed. They did a one act play; it was something about two men being accidentally married to the same woman. It was funny, but it was also pretty risqué. Matt explained all these dinner theater performances were like that. It was a BYOB type of performance. Matt had brought two bottles of wine; one was a mildly sweet tasting white and the other was a bitter tasting red. I preferred the sweeter white wine so I drank that. I enjoyed the meal; we had a choice between lasagna and flounder. Since I was drinking a white wine, and Matt a red he chose the lasagna and I chose the fish. I thoroughly enjoyed the wine, but I did think it had an odd after taste. I guessed it was just me. Well we had a great meal and enjoyed an interesting show. Matt left a generous gratuity, and afterward he asked me to stop off at his place for some homemade cake. I agreed. By the time we got to Matt's I was feeling a little groggy, but it was kind of a good groggy, more like euphoric, that's a word I hadn't used in a long time. I'd really had a good time. The wine had given me a soft buzz, and I had this especially warm comfortable feeling about Matt. I guess I'd forgotten what a terrific guy Matt was. When we got back to his place he took my wrap, he insisted I get out of my tight fitting high heels, he brought me a piece of this delicious looking chocolate cake, and he gave me another glass of wine. The cake was good. Matt was so pleasant, and the apartment seemed kind of warm. I was feeling all this affection toward Matt. He talked about some of his past problems, how his old girlfriend had cut out on him and then had him beaten up. I felt like I could really relate to the problems he'd had. It sounded sort of like what Cayden had done to me. All I could think about was how I wanted to make Matt feel better. We watched a little television, and I felt so cozy I just curled up on his sofa and placed my head on his lap. Matt was so nice; he kept massaging my neck and he kept kissing me on the back of my head and on my cheek. He made me feel so good. I wanted to do something to make him happy. Before I knew it we were sitting on his sofa hugging and kissing. I let him unbutton my blouse and undo my bra. He started kissing my boobs and rubbing them with the palms of his hands and his fingers. It made me feel good, and I could tell by the way he looked at me I was making him happy. I was wearing pantyhose, panties, and a miniskirt. I let him pull down my hose and my panties. Pretty soon he was rubbing my Mons and pushing one of his fingers inside my vagina. I was small down there, and one finger was all I was ready for. I mean I could take more, but I was naturally small, even after sex with Bernard I was still inclined to shrink to a very small size. Heck Bernard wasn't all that much anyway; not like Cayden. Oh yes, Cayden. Matt was rubbing and playing with me, and I started to think about how Cayden used to do some of the same things. Cayden had always been very special. Anyway I was with Matt, and started to think about Cayden. I remembered when I was with Cayden, how big he was, he always had to massage and rub me before I was open enough to be ready for him. I recalled how even when Cayden was at his meanest he almost never hurt me. Truthfully it always did hurt, but he always tried to make it nice. He always rubbed, caressed, kissed, and massaged me into readiness. I think there was only one time that he ever tried to hurt me down there, and that was when he took me in the rear. I remember we'd been at the beach at night and how he hurt me terribly. I also remember how he stopped and promised he'd never to anything like that to me ever again. He never did either. I was with Matt. I was really hot, and I could tell he wanted me. I was getting wet. I wanted him to feel good so I didn't try to stop him. Then he must have said something. I think he said something about him being better than Cayden. I think he said something like Cayden not being a real man. Anyway that's when I woke up. I jumped up off the sofa and told him to stop. He laughed and tried to pull me back down. I realized then the whole thing must have been a trick. I told him I bet he'd tried to put something in my piece of cake. He got mad then. He told me I was a worthless tramp, and if I wasn't prepared to put out I should get out. That was when I grabbed my purse, my clothes, and ran out the front door. He started to follow me, but once he reached his door he stopped, laughed, and wished me luck getting home. I ran half way down the lane, stopped, pulled out my cell phone, and called Caprice. By then I was crying like crazy. ++++++++++ It was a Thursday night. Angie was on what she told me was probably her last date with the librarian. Cayden and I were in the living room reading. I was curled up with Charles Dickens saga of the French Revolution 'A Tale of Two Cities' and Cayden lay sprawled out on the floor in front of me with something by Tom Clancy. Actually I was only half interested in my book. I'd read it before anyway. I guess I was adrift half way between my fantasy world, and something else I especially wanted to do that night. I knew it was too late for me, but I was so desperately hopelessly in love with the man lying on the floor in front of me. He'd just gotten out of the shower, and all he had on was a pair of khaki shorts and his scrumptiously smelling spicy aftershave. I'd had a shower just a little while before myself. I was wearing a set of tailored shorty pajamas; a comfortably fitting button up top and a pair of loosely fitting pants, and the perfume, Chanel Chance, that Cayden had bought me. I'd even put on a little makeup; aren't I a sneak? I was day dreaming, pretending Cayden and I were married, and in a few minutes he'd ask me to go to bed. I had these romantic visions of me being wrapped in his arms while he ran his hands all over my body. I thought about the way he pretended to nurse me while I was recovering from my surgeries. I was starting to feel warm. I'd only had sex one time since my surgeries. Cayden had been the one time. God he'd been so gentle. I got goose bumps thinking about how he made me feel that night. I knew I would be so happy if I were married to him. I let my leg extend far enough so that my toes touched the back of his upper thigh. He glanced up at me from his book. I could tell he was still feeling sorry for himself for not asking me to the ham and oyster supper ahead of Barry. He smiled. I asked him, "A penny for your thoughts." He replied, "I need someone to help me exercise the horses." I don't know where it came from but I answered, "Why not ask me, I can ride." He got this big old crappy smile on his face, "Maybe I will." I felt, wow, this was totally cool; another warm rush swept over me, "That sounds good to me," I could see my offer and answer almost completely wiped away his disappointment about the Sunday Supper. I wanted to jump down and climb on his back, kick my heels in his sides and make him ride me around the living room while I kissed his neck and reached underneath to squeeze his balls. My mind and heart kept hollering at him, 'Tell me I shouldn't go to the supper with Barry. Tell me I should go with you. Tell me because you're an official, and you need a companion.' He only looked back at his book and continued to pretend to read. I knew he was pretending; he wasn't turning any pages. He didn't move away so I started lightly rubbing his thigh with my toes. I couldn't hold out. I closed my book and climbed down beside him on the carpet. I knew if I ever got to marry him the first thing, well one of the first things I'd do would be replace the thin carpet he'd bought with something thick and lush. We'd never make to the bedroom then. I climbed own beside him and asked, "Don't you think we should go to bed?" He peered around and grinned at me, "There's nothing stopping you." I put my right arm over his shoulders. I cuddled up real close and tried to slide my left hand under his stomach to the zipper on his shorts, "It gets so lonely in that big king sized bed at night." He leaned his face close and kissed me, "You need someone to tuck you in?" I nodded, "Mm mm" He started to get up. This was it! ++++++++++ Then my cell phone rang. Damn! I knew Angie was out with Devereau. While holding up one finger I reached around to the end table and picked up my phone and flipped it over. It was Barry, "Yes, what do you want," I wasn't trying to be friendly. He was interfering with an important project. I could already see the swell in Cayden's shorts. It wasn't so much the sex; it was the attention I wanted. Barry asked me, "The Rehoboth Cancer Society is sponsoring a dance this Saturday night. I was..." I didn't want to hear this, "But that's the night before the Oyster Supper." He replied, "I know but this is for such a worthy cause." I was stuck. I held my hand over the phone, "Barry wants to take me to a dance this Saturday night." I watched Cayden's whole countenance change from optimistic affection to that of a beaten old man. It was like watching him age ten years in ten seconds. This was crushing. Why didn't he just tell me to tell Barry no? I said, "You can tell me to tell him no." Cayden replied, "No, I think you should go." I answered, "All you have to do is say..." Cayden was getting to his feet. He was already walking to his bedroom door; he cut me off, "No you should go to the dance. It's the one at Rehoboth. It's for a worthy cause." "I could tell him you already asked me." He grumbled, "That wouldn't be honest," by then he was already at his bedroom door. That pissed me off. 'All right,' I thought, I'll let Cayden have his way.' I took my hand off the phone, "Sure, what time would you be picking me up?" Barry answered, "7:00." I replied, "OK." I closed the phone. I thought, 'I'm not a bigot or anything, but I bet Cayden could screw up a two car Polish funeral.' I further mentally corrected myself, 'That was just a figure of speech; it had no significant bearing on anything,' but he really got my goat, 'What was wrong with that man? Couldn't he see how I felt about him, this was for shit!' I climbed back up on the sofa, but any interest I had in Dickens, or anything for that matter had just shuffled off into the bedroom. I just sat there staring off into space. I didn't stare long. My cell phone rang again. Maybe Barry changed his mind. I opened the phone up. It was Angie. I spoke, "Angie?" Damn! She was crying, "Angie what's wrong." "I need to you to come pick me up." I was already on my feet, "Where are you?" "Down the street from Mr. Devereau's." "OK, Angie I'll be right there," I thought about saying something to Cayden, but reconsidered. If Devereau had done something to Angie Cayden would want to get into it with him again, and Devereau had already put Cayden on his back once. I slipped into my bedroom; that was the big master bedroom where Cayden first delivered me right after he bought me. I found a miniskirt and a blouse. I buttoned them on, slipped on some tennis shoes; I still didn't have any socks, grabbed my purse and the keys to Cayden's Lexus and was out the door in a split second. I sped down to Matt Devereau's road and found Angie on the shoulder with her head in her hands. I pulled to a stop, unlocked the door and she got in. "Oh Caprice, he's such a bastard!" "Why, what'd he do?" "It's not what he did; it's what he tried to do." I sat in the driver's seat with the motor running and listened while Angie told me the whole slimy story. I was disgusted, "Come on I'll take you home." Angie sobbed, "Oh I can't go there. Emily will..." I corrected her, "I don't mean your mother's. I'm taking you to Cayden's. Damn it Angie, that's where you belong anyway." Angie stopped sobbing when I said that. I didn't know for sure whether she stopped sobbing because I said I wasn't taking her to her mother's, or if it was because I told her Cayden's was where she supposed to be. I got her home and in my bed. I went into the kitchen and got her an orange juice. We lay down together in the big bed, "Angie we can't tell Cayden about this." She sipped some of the juice, "I know he'd just want to go out and get beat up again." I snuggled up against her and rubbed the back of her head, "He's some conquering hero isn't he." We both had a laugh at that. She finished her juice and then we got to it. The night wasn't a complete waste after all. ++++++++++ Cayden starts to grow a pair, finally. I left Caprice in the living room and went to bed and tried to go to sleep. I felt like such a loser. I kept going over the same questions again and again. Why was I constantly deferring to people like Bernard and Barry? Why did I give a shit what Pastor Cook told me about myself and about my girls? Caprice was right; I was certainly the biggest dumbest farmer in the county. I knew Caprice loved me, and I bet if I really tried I could get Angie and Emily in my life. What did I know? I knew one thing; I knew how to work. Well maybe, just maybe, if I wanted my girls to be in my life and stay in my life I'd have to do more than feel sorry for myself. I didn't sleep. I just tossed and turned all that night. The next morning, way before the sun came up I got up, got dressed, and drove over to the town's cemetery. I needed to talk to someone, and the only person I could think of to talk to was my Aunt Maggie. OK she was dead, but I knew where she was. I pulled in the cemetery and started to walk around. Everywhere I looked I saw people and the names of people I'd known or knew about. The names were all essentially the same; there were Camels, Careys, Campbells, Murrays, MeGees, McCabes, Cashes, McLeishes, MacDonalds, Hamiltons, and on and on. They were all Scottish, and they probably all had the same history. They all certainly worked hard. They were all probably honest, and they all certainly had their times of despondency and depression. They were all also family people. They all believed in God, paid their bills, took care of their kids, and went to church, and almost every God damned one of them had flowers, or at the least one of those little plastic crosses on their graves. The Curse of the Scots Ch. 06 That's when it hit me; most of them, the ones that I knew or just knew of; still, even after fifty years had people who remembered them and loved them enough to plop a few measly flowers on a grave. What is it about being a Christian; it's better to give than to receive. If you want something you had to do more than wait, I had to actually go out and do something. If I wanted Caprice and Angie to love me, then I'd have to show them I loved them. How was I going to do this? Aunt Maggie, Aunt Olive, Uncle Mitchel, and Uncle John were all talking to me. They all had the same advice, "if you want love, you better be prepared to give them the love they're entitled to." That's when I realized all those old people; they loved me, they just didn't know how to show it. Hell, I thought about it; none of them ever hit me. Uncle Mitchell always checked the oil in my truck, and if I was low on gas he'd fill the tank. Once Uncle Johnny grabbed me real hard and yanked at me. Then he took a stick and killed a copperhead I almost stepped on. I remember him yelling, "Damn it Cayden, you could've got bit!" Damn, if I wanted my daughter I had to tell her who I was. Giving her presents like a pony was just stuff. Buying Caprice a dress or fixing her vagina was just stuff. Getting Angie to let me care for her, maybe even marry me again meant me telling her how deeply I cared for her and how much I wanted her back in my life, in my house and in my bed. That last thing kind of scared me. Sure I loved Angie, but I loved Caprice too. Could I marry one and keep the other? How was I ever going to be able to work that? I got so excited; suddenly I knew what I needed to do. I grabbed my cell phone and called Del. By then it was close to 6:00 a.m. I was sure he was up. His phone rang, he answered, "Hello." "Hello Del this is Cayden." "Jesus Cayden do you know what time it is?" "Del I need to learn to dance." "You what?" "Del this is Friday. Tomorrow night's the dance over at Rehoboth. I need to learn all the steps; I need all the moves by tomorrow night. Can you help me?" "Why, what are you crazy?" "No I'm not crazy. I just know what I need to do. How about it?" There was a momentary silence then he answered, "Well I'm not much of a dancer myself, and my girlfriend just ditched me for an accountant down in Ocean View. But hey, wait a minute, there's Sally Monroe who works at the Starlight over in Bethany Beach. She might help." I said, "Del I'd appreciate if you called and asked her." Del answered, "I think she likes me. She might do it." I was ecstatic, "Great! Get her and the two of you meet me at the horse barn today at say 12:00." He replied, "No promises, but I'll try." ++++++++++ Practice makes perfect! I was waiting when Del showed up with Sally. I turned my cell phone off. I said, "Hi Sally, you're one of the Monroe's from Roxana." Roxana was another little town not far away. Sally nodded, "Del said you want to learn to dance?" I pointed to a cd player I'd bought that morning and a dozen cds I'd picked up, "There's a dance at the Rehoboth Fire Hall tomorrow night. I want to be the best dancer there." Sally glanced at Del. I knew right away somebody had a hell of a crush on my nephew. She looked at me and smiled, "That's a pretty tall order; how about one of the top five?" Del asked, "What's gotten into you Uncle Cayden?" I told him, "That shit bird Barry is taking Caprice to the dance, and I'm sure Angie will be there with Chuck Norris. You know Devereau? I think if I showed them up on the dance floor it would be a good step in the right direction." Del grinned and smacked his hands on his jeans, "Well I'll be damned. You mean you're finally going to step up to the plate." I grinned, "I sure am, and maybe if your old girlfriend is there you might be able to throw some shit on her accountant friend," I saw Sally's reaction. If there'd been any doubt before I knew for sure now why she was here. I added, "Then again with a looker like Sally here you might want to put the past behind you as they say." Del gave Sally a thoughtful look, "What do you think Sally? Would you like to go to the dance with me tomorrow night?" She replied, "I have to work." I stuck my two cents in, "Not if you don't want to. I've got a new market just off Route Fifty that needs a morning supervisor. Tell you what Sally. I'll match whatever they're paying you at the Starlight, and if you decide to hang around I'll give you percentage of what the place takes in." Del was surprised, "Gee Del that's the first time I heard you make an offer like that?" I looked at him then at her then back at Del, "I know I already like Sally. I'm not telling you what to do, but she could be more than a friend. I'm thinking family." I watched as Sally blushed. Del watched her too. She was pretty; maybe 5'4", red hair up in a ponytail, freckles, hazel eyes, nice shape. Del asked her, "What do you think Sally?" She was as red as a beet, she murmured so softly it was almost impossible to hear her, "Think what?" Del stammered out, "What Cayden said." Sally was blushing even more, "I'll go to the dance. Let me think about the job." I laughed, "All right, now let's get on with the lessons!" Well I stumbled and bounced, and tripped around until nearly 6:00 that evening. She taught me how to cha cha, how to waltz, line dance, and how to two step. I even did a little jitter bugging; not very well though. I thought two stepping would be easy. It wasn't. It's way more difficult than it looks. Del and Sally stayed right with me. I had a hell of a pleasurable time learning the dance steps, but to tell the truth I had a whale of a good time watching Del and Sally play the courtship game. It was like watching two eagles as they'd soar to the heights, clutch talons, and then circle their way back to earth. I was playing match maker, and it felt good. By 6:00 we decided to call it a night, but we all three agreed to get back together on Saturday at 1:00 so I could polish off my routines. I told them not to worry about tickets. I'd take care of that at the door. Of course I wasn't going to wait till then to get tickets. I figured I'd call Mark Fleming as soon as I got home. Mark was in the Rehoboth Fire Department. I'd get him to save me tickets. We all parted company a little later, and I started home. I knew I'd be up again before the sun. I still had a farm to run. ++++++++++ Anguish at home. I got home a little after 7:00. Caprice was standing at the door. She didn't wait, "Cayden where have you been?" I decided to play it cool, "I've been down at the horse barn most of the day why?" She didn't smile or anything, "Angie's had a pretty bad day." Well that got my attention, "OK Caprice, what's wrong?' "Well first she had a horrible date last night with Matt Devereau. From what she told me it sounds like he used something, maybe Ecstasy, to try to get her in bed." "Damn," I said. "That's not the worst of it. She got a call this morning from Devereau. He said the grant they'd relied on to hire her had run out. He had to let her go." "Sounds like a payback to me." Caprice continued, "It got even worse. Not more than an hour after Devereau called she got a call from Social Services. Seems they found out she lost her job. They want to visit her next week. They said they'd been getting phone calls about her behavior anyway. They want to make sure Emily's in a safe and secure environment." I had no problem with that, "Sounds like our Mr. Devereau has been a pretty busy bee," I smiled when I said that. I could see Caprice wasn't as amused. She let me have it, "Cayden she's scared. She's afraid they'll take her girl away from her." I wasn't worried; I'd heard a couple of the ladies at social services had been scheming to get at Angie for months. I bet Devereau knew too. Angie thought she had a problem but all I saw was opportunity, "That means Angie won't have a date for the dance tomorrow night." I watched and then had to listen to Caprice's angry retort, "That's an awful thing to say. Who cares a damn about the stupid dance; she could lose her girl!" I reached out, "Give me your hand." "This is no time to play around." "I said give me your hand." Caprice gave me her hand. I checked the clock, 7:30, I squeezed her hand softly, "Call Angie up. Tell her I'm on my way over. Tell her I intend to go in her mother's, sit down on that sofa they love so much, and that I'm going to tell her how things are going to be." Caprice tried to pull her hand away, but I wouldn't let her, "Cayden let go." "No, not until you agree to make the call." "OK, I'll make the call, but you know her mother; she won't let you in, and Angie won't like it. Now let go of my hand." I wasn't about to let go of her hand until I was finished, "Kiss me first." It was Caprice's turn to blush, "Cayden!" "I said kiss me," she leaned forward and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Since I still had her hand I was able to pull her in close. I very gently twisted her hand around so that it was behind her back and she had to press her chest against mine. I loved the feel of her soft breasts. Her nipples were starting to firm up. I felt their insistent pressure. She smelled good, and she felt soft. I whispered "Now give me that kiss." This time she leaned up and gave me a real kiss. I let her go, "Now go make that call," I picked up my truck keys and started for the front door again. As I walked away I heard her tap in Angie's phone number. When I got to the front door I pretended to leave, but instead I waited to hear what Caprice was going to say. I heard her, "Angie? Cayden's on his way over there." Angie must have said something because Caprice paused. Then I heard her say, "I don't think that's going to matter. Just be ready. He's acting really strange." There was another pause so I guessed Angie was asking if Caprice had told me about what had happened. I heard Caprice add, "Yes I told him. All he wanted to know was whether you had a date for tomorrow night's dance." There was another pause, then Caprice again, "I know. He's not making any sense." After that I went on to my truck. ++++++++++ I got to Mrs. Bradford's about fifteen minutes later. I got out of my truck and loudly stomped up the steps to her front door. I knocked and waited. At first there was no answer so I knocked again really hard. Mrs. Bradford came to the door, "What do you want?" I pushed by her, "Where's my wife?" Mrs. Bradford answered, "You don't have a wife." "All right my ex-wife. Where is she?" Angie came out from the kitchen, "I'm here." I pointed toward the sofa and said, "Sit." Mrs. Bradford tried to interrupt, "You don't belong here, get..." I glowered at her, "Shut up and go to bed," then I glared at Angie, "Sofa." Mrs. Bradford frowned back but went back to the kitchen. Angie looked frightened. She went over and sat on the sofa. I followed her over, "I hear you don't have a date for the dance tomorrow night?" She just kind of looked at me, and then she shook her head no. I said, "Good I'll be by to pick you up at 7:00. I expect you to look nice. Get Caprice to take you to the mall tomorrow. I want you dressed to kill tomorrow night when I come for you." I paused and then added, "Now what's this shit about Emily and Social Services?" I could tell Angie was really scared. For some reason her discomfort made me feel good. Her tone of voice just oozed fear, she said, "I got a call today. They told me they had complaints. They said they're stopping by one day next week to check on what's going on," her voice quavered; "Cayden I lost my job. I don't know what I'm going to do." She looked desperate. I reached out, and before she could react I had both her wrists in my hands. I was firm but I was also very gentle. I pulled her close; she was so close I could feel her breath on my face. I told her, "Starting next week you'll be working for me." She started to object, but I stopped her, "I'll decide what you'll do later. Don't worry about Social Services. They can't do anything; that's just Devereau trying to throw a little shit our way," I said 'throwing shit our way' to make sure she understood it wasn't just her; it was her and me. I told her, "I'll take care of him." She started to say something again, but I stopped her, "Don't worry I won't try to fight him, not like last time anyway." Mrs. Bradford yelled in from the kitchen, "What do you think you can do?" I yelled back, "I told you to go to bed!" I watched Angie; she smiled at what I had just said to her mom, but I could tell she was still very upset. I went to work to calm her down, "Let me make things perfectly clear sweetheart. You're a good mother, a damn good mother. No Matt Devereau and no Social Services is taking my little girl away from my little girl's mommy." She sniffed and cried when I said mommy. I gently squeezed her wrists just a little more tightly. I rocked her hands back and forth the way a mother would a baby's hands. I pulled her even closer. I could feel her much smaller breasts and her tiny shoulders press against me. This was the second time in less than an hour I had a woman I loved pressed against me like this. It felt good. I let go of her wrists, I wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her even tighter. I cradled the back of her head in my right hand and kissed her on her left cheek. Then I pressed my right cheek against her left. I felt her soft brown hair on my face. I whispered, "Angie, you're my girl. No one's taking anything from you, not ever." I leaned so that our foreheads touched. I took my right hand and trapped her chin with my thumb and index finger. I leaned forward till my mouth was almost against hers. I got a whiff of her scent. Her body had an aroma I always liked so much. I smelled her breath; it was like nectar to a starving man. I felt her relax, "Angie you're my sunshine. Nobody's going to do anything to separate you from Emily, and you can take that to the bank!" She just kept looking at me with those big brown eyes of hers. They were like big puppy eyes. I one upped what I'd just said, "You're my girl Angie. You trust me don't you?" She nodded her head. I let my lips cover the fraction of an inch that separated us and I murmured, "Lean over here and give me a nice kiss." I could see the look of amazed disbelief. She leaned forward that last fraction of an inch, and we kissed. God I remembered how sweet she tasted, how positively delightful she was to kiss. I realized how much I missed her. I concluded our little discussion, "Tomorrow new clothes, get something for Emily," I looked toward the kitchen and spoke more loudly, "and something for your mother too!" Then I finished, "Go to bed. Forget Social Services. I'm all you need. Just be ready tomorrow night. Now go to bed." Angie looked at me with her great big eyes. She nodded and in the softest whisper answered, "Yes Cayden." I got up. As I stood I leaned down and kissed her again, "Goodnight Angie, and not to worry, understand?" She nodded again. She had great big tears in her eyes. I got up and walked toward Mrs. Bradford's front door. I hesitated for a second and heard a deep sigh. As I walked a little further I heard Mrs. Bradford and Angie whispering. Mrs. Bradford said, "I don't know what that was about. I don't know who he thinks he is." I heard Angie whisper back, "Oh shut up mother." I walked on out to the truck; yes by God I felt good, really good! This worm had finally turned! ++++++++++ When I got home Caprice was awake and waiting for me. She gave me what I could only call a kind of diffident glare. She just stood there, hands on hips, eyes aglow, lashes aflutter, lower lip quivering and extruded in an unconscious pout. Her hair swept out in curls around her pink freshly washed face, and her breasts pressed against the filmy fabric of her pajama blouse. Her camel toe was visible through the crease of her panties. She asked, "What's gotten into you tonight?" I slipped out of my boots and started for my bedroom. As I walked by I told her, "You'll go to the dance tomorrow night with Barry, but you'll be coming home with me." She started to open her mouth. I shut her up, "You're going to the Oyster Supper on Sunday with me; that is right after we leave church. I'll straighten things out with Barry tomorrow night," I walked toward my bedroom, then stopped and turned to look at her. I was horny. I said, "Go get a fresh shower. Put on something sexy. Put on some more of that perfume. Then wait for me in our bedroom." I gave her a half smile, "Kind of kneel in the center of the bed. You know sort of resting your weight on one hand." I'd said our bedroom, meaning the bedroom she slept in. I watched as she jumped up and hurried to her shower. She was smiling. I strode back toward where I'd been sleeping. I went on in and started the shower. I took a really hot shower. I felt great! ++++++++++ I got up extra early. I glanced over at Caprice as she lay sleeping. She looked like an angel all curled up in a ball, hands resting at her chin. We'd had a good night; not a lot of sex, but certainly lots of cuddling and kissing. I slipped out of our bedroom and crossed the hall to where my stuff was. It was the Saturday of the dance at Rehoboth. I had a lot of work to do around the farm, and then after lunch I'd be busy practicing my dance steps with Del and Sally. While I dressed I decided I really did like Sally. I'd met Del's other girl, and though I thought she was pretty she reminded me of someone who was always on the lookout. My guess was she thought an accountant was a 'trade up' from a common farmer. The poor girl didn't know what I knew. Del had a good head on his shoulders. He was a competent steady worker, but most of all he had creative bent that I was confident would lead him to some real financial success. His only handicap was his lack of ready capital; that was where I would come in. I had the capital. I'd hitch my star to his, and watch my earnings grow with his. I didn't think Sally had Del's pecuniary potential in mind. I'd seen her around Del long before my request for help dancing. She looked like a girl who wanted to make babies and raise a family. Yeah, she looked like the anchor, no the guidance system, that would propel Del in the right direction. I was going to do all I could to encourage that relationship. I stepped from the bedroom I'd been using. To my surprise Caprice was up. She'd made coffee. I smelled bacon and eggs on the stove. All she had on was her pajama top and a pair of very low heeled shoes. I couldn't exactly tell, but it looked like her pussy lips were a little damp. The shoes didn't quite fit the circumstance until I realized she'd most likely worn them because they forced her heels up slightly and that gave her legs better definition. 'Yeah,' I thought, 'the former prostitute still knew all her little tricks.' I strode over to where I'd left my boots. They looked clean; she must have tidied them while I was getting dressed. I stepped to the kitchen counter, "You're up early." She smiled and handed me a cup of coffee. She wrapped her arms around her waist. The pressure on the top of pajamas forced her breasts up and out; her nipples stared out at me. She softly murmured, "A man needs a good start on his day." I took a sip of coffee, put the cup down, reached over and pulled her close. Not surprising she stepped into my arms, wrapped her arms around my waist, and glued her lips to mine. Before I could react she took her right hand, lifted it to the back of my head and pulled it down so that her right cheek was pressed snugly against my left cheek. She nuzzled me and whispered, "I love you Cayden McLeish." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 07 Cayden rails against God, Caprice pleas for forgiveness, and Angie emerges I watched her as she ran out of the restaurant. I wanted to run after her. I wanted to catch her, stop her, I wanted to hold her, wrap her in my arms and never let her go. I wanted to smother her in kisses. I wanted...I needed to save...protect her! God, I wanted to tell her she didn't have to go. Del was outside on the parking lot when I got there. He murmured. His words were toneless, "She's gone, huh." I dully replied, "Yeah, she's gone." "What are you going to do now?" Shrugging my shoulders while trying to hide my eyes I replied, "Angie wanted me to pick her up and take her home after... after she left. I guess I'll go over to her stand." I could see Del had been crying. He told me, "I'll be at the barns if you need me." I tried to smile, "OK, thanks Del," I got in my truck and started to Angie's stand. ++++++++++ Angie's anguish. Cayden got me and took me back to my mother's. Emily would be home soon. I'd told my baby about Caprice that morning. She cried at first; then she'd gotten angry. She wanted to know why I couldn't make her stay. Emily had come to love Caprice as much as I did. Caprice and I had talked about our relationship. I told her I didn't consider myself a lesbian, but even so I knew that I loved her, that I loved being with her, and I knew life without her would be unbearable. When we talked Caprice had no idea what was coming; just the same she seemed to understand that I was in turmoil. She explained that while she'd been a whore she'd learned men generally saw her, and the women like her as little more than meat, she and the other women were objects men would use and maybe brag about later. Whores she said weren't people; they weren't human beings. Caprice explained that she and the other women often turned to each other when they needed companionship and affection. She told me the feelings we had for each other might have involved sex, but it was really more about the closeness and the need to love and be loved. She even joked once that while men laughed and said prostitution was the oldest profession; she and the girls knew the oldest profession wasn't prostitution at all but slavery. Before that I had never really looked at what she used to do that way. I mean being a whore was being more like a slave than anything else. I knew she was right. ++++++++++ Those first days after Caprice left were horrible. I cried a lot. Before Cayden brought Caprice into my life all my energies had been directed toward my anger for him. Then Caprice came; my anger dissipated and then died. Through Caprice I'd found a new outlet for my emotions; anger had been replaced by friendship and love. Now that she'd left I felt nothing. My old fury at Cayden was an empty well, and with Caprice gone I had no one. Those first days were awful. Near the end of the first week after Caprice's departure I began to realize one of the many gifts Caprice left me with was the ability to see others in a new way. I watched Cayden; he was as unhappy and as lonely as I was. I guess what I felt first was empathy, but pretty quickly I had to accept what I'd known all along. My feelings for Cayden were feelings of love, true love, not just the carnal, but a true, real, deep abiding hunger. I loved him. I'd always loved him. I loved his warm smile, his silly jokes. I fondly remembered his strong arms, those stupid woebegone looks. I wasn't thinking about sex with Cayden so much as just the joy of his nearness. It was funny; Caprice loved him, I loved him. Were she still here Caprice could have the sex; I wanted his nearness, his tenderness. I realized an awful truth about myself; the only thing that had kept me away from him was my pride, my stupid stupid pride. I talked to my mother. I explained to her that I needed to see Cayden. I needed to be with him. At first our conversations were just that; simple civil conversations, but soon they escalated. My mother didn't want me to see Cayden. Partly I think she still blamed him for a lot of the things that had happened to me, but I think she was more afraid I'd leave her and she'd be alone. What was just as bad was Emily. Emily was driving me crazy. She missed Caprice, but more than that she was a year older and much more aware. I couldn't put her off much longer. She heard things at school. The kids teased her. They all told her who her daddy was. I knew I had to face that problem and I had to face it soon. Finally it all blew up one night while my mother was fixing dinner. Thanks to Cayden I had a job. Cayden had persuaded Del to come over and he had removed the bars from my bedroom windows. Cayden had persuaded Matt to withdraw his complaint. When the Social Services people came to visit there wasn't anything they could find. Because of Cayden Emily was safe. I told my mother I needed to see Cayden and straighten things out once and for all. My mom threw a fit; she went into a rage. I knew the time had come. I remember we'd had an awful rowel. ++++++++++ Mrs. Bradford scowled, "Angie if you leave now, I'm telling you don't try to come back!" "Come on Emily. We'll pack a few things. It's time we left." "But mommy where are we going? I'm tired. I have to go to school tomorrow." "I know you're tired sweetie. I know you have school tomorrow, but this is way overdue. It's time for me to grow up." "Grow up? Mommy I don't understand?" I told her, "You will. We're going on a growing up walk tonight." I checked the clock. It was half past 8:00. I had to leave. It was time. If I didn't do something now I'd be under my mother's thumb the rest of my life. Besides I owed it to my little girl. I tried to give her my best big mommy smile, "Come on Emily upstairs we go." We went upstairs and packed for the short walk. It was only about a quarter mile, but as I loaded the one small valise I could call my own I knew it would be the longest quarter mile of my life. "Mommy can I take Candy Land?" "Sure baby just let me tape the box top on real tight so none of the cards or pieces fall out on the way." I pulled out some scotch tape and firmly taped the lid on, "There, now you carry Candy Land and I'll carry our clothes." I squeezed as many of Emily's things in as I could, "There, ready honeybunch?" "Mommy you didn't pack any clothes for yourself." "I'll be all right sugar doll," I took her tiny hand in mine. I led her back down the stairs and out the front door. As we started down the drive my mom yelled out, "You'll be sorry." Emily and I kept walking. I heard my mom yell out again, "I lied. You know you can come back any time. I'm here. I'll always be here for you!" I knew that. It was a balmy dry October evening. We had a brilliant harvest moon to light our way. I'd been down this road a million times; walking, riding in Cayden's pick-up, and when I was a teenager pedaling on my bicycle. The valise was light. I had no trouble, but after just a short while I could see my girl was starting to flag. I leaned down, and picked her up so she rested on my hip, "Come on girlie you carry Candy Land. I'll carry you." "I'm not too heavy am I mommy?" I thought of the old song from that ancient Rock and Roll group Three Dog Night. They'd done a song based on something that had happened at an orphanage or someplace like that. I kissed her cheek as I struggled along up the road. I sang to her, "You ain't heavy. You're my baby," Maybe they weren't exactly the right words, but they worked for me. Emily snuggled her head under my chin. She shifted her weight and I almost fell down, "Hey watch it sweetie. Mommy almost lost her balance." "Sorry mommy." I looked down the road. My right arm was already tired. My jacket had started to ride up around my waist. The valise, though small had begun to cut into my shoulder. I'd be all right. I figured it was only about twenty minutes. I could make it. ++++++++++ Cayden is piteous. Jesus I was tired. It was after 8:30, and it had been another long day. I wasn't sleeping very well. Caprice had been gone over a week. I don't know why, but I'd hoped she would've called. God I missed her. I knew Angie missed her too; she'd been a bear every morning when I picked her up to take her to work. It was hard to tell with Angie; maybe she was irritable because Caprice was gone, maybe it was because I deliberately got to her mother's before Emily's bus came, I did that so I could see both my girls together, or maybe it was her mother. Damn I heard them arguing and yelling at each other every morning. I took my shower, and had a big glass of milk. I went to the front door to make sure it was locked and the outside light was off. Yep, everything was in place. I turned and started for my bedroom. I still used the smaller bedroom across from the big one that had the king sized bed. One can always hope. I crossed by the sofa and wide screen TV. Once I reached my bedroom I'd close the door and be gone to the world till the morning. Just as I reached my bedroom door I heard someone knocking on my front door. I cringed, 'Damn who could that be? I bet it was Del or maybe Aubrey.' I shuffled back to the door. If it was Del he'd hear it. I got to the door, turned the outside light back on, unlocked the damn thing and opened it. Jesus H. Christ! Angie put her daughter down. She dropped the valise on the porch floor. With a hand on each of her little girl's shoulders she very quietly said, "Emily this is Cayden McLeish. He's your daddy." For a second I was like totally stunned. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. Though it was only a mere second or two it seemed like an eternity. I recovered. I dropped to my knees and reached out to my daughter. I whispered, "Hi Emily." Emily, surprised and frightened, retreated into her mother's arms. Angie knelt beside and behind her, "Don't be afraid honey he really is your daddy, and believe me he loves you like all get out." Emily was still frozen in place. Angie returned to her feet, as she stood she lifted her baby and started to hand her to me. I took to my feet at the same time. I marveled at Angie's strength. Heck she wasn't much bigger than Emily. As she handed me my daughter I reached out with my two much larger arms and pulled both, mother and child, in to my chest. Squeezing them both tightly, through my tears I hoarsely whispered, "Come in. Come on in," I couldn't help it I started crying. Emily sat stiffly in my arms. Her mother's hands were still holding her by her armpits. Angie was crying too. She whispered to our daughter, "This is your daddy sweetheart. Let him hold you." Emily reluctantly leaned forward and reached out with her little arms. I took my right arm and lifted her to my face. I kissed her cheeks. At the same time I half lifted Angie with my other arm. She was always so small. I half carried half walked my two girls to the sofa. I sat them both down; Emily on my lap, Angie on the seat beside me. Holding Emily firmly I pulled Angie in and kissed her. I had my left arm around and behind her. My fingers rested on the back of her head. I started to caress the nape of her neck. It felt like buckets of tears were rolling down my cheeks. Angie took her tiny hand and started to wipe them away. She leaned forward and kissed me. Emily looked at me and whispered, "Are you really my daddy?" I answered, "I really am." She looked at her mother, "He really is?" Angie leaned across me and kissed our daughter, "Yes Emily he really is." She looked confused for a second and then she asked, "You want to play Candy Land?" I looked at Angie. Angie smiled and wiped the loose fronds of hair that cluttered our baby girl's face. She said, "Not tonight. You've got to go to bed. You have school tomorrow don't forget, but how about a glass of milk before bed?" Emily looked at me. I touched her precious chin with my index finger, "Mommy's the boss of us honey." It was easy to see she was exhausted. Emily sighed, "OK, milk tonight but tomorrow," she held up her Candy Land game. Angie and I both nodded at the same time. Angie whispered, "Right after school." She looked at me, "Where...?" I hiccoughed back the tears, "The big bed where you and Caprice used to sleep." That caught Emily's attention, "Is Auntie Caprice here?" I murmured, "She's not here right now." Emily seemed to sigh, she forgot about the milk, "Oh OK. I'm ready for bed now." Angie took her hand and walked her to the main bedroom. I followed. As we reached the door Emily turned to me and said, "Tomorrow?" I was so happy. I agreed, "Tomorrow, Candy Land." Angie turned and walked into the bedroom. I heard Emily ask her mother, "He really is my daddy?" I heard Angie reply, "Yes sweetheart he really is." I played the jerk and got up close to the closed door and snooped a listen. Emily asked her mother, "Is this our home now?" I overheard Angie's answer, "Yes honey this is our home. We're home now." I leaned back against the wall. Oh I was so happy. I knew I wouldn't get any sleep now. There were lists to make. Tomorrow Angie and I would have to go shopping; there were toys, clothes, curtains, bed-sheets, all the things little girls needed and wanted. I gasped, 'finally, oh finally I had my girls. At last I had somebody to spend all my money on! Then I stopped, I wondered where Caprice was? What should I do? I wavered on my feet. Could I be satisfied with two while one was still unaccounted for? What if she'd backed out about going to her parents? What if she ran away again? What if she...? That awful Vince...Oh god no I couldn't allow that! I knew the answer. My mind was made up. I didn't have to voice it. I thought about the stories in the Bible. I knew I'd been right to send Caprice to find her parents, and I knew that was where she went. OK, I'll give her some time, but like the story of the lost sheep. I knew where her parents lived. I'd have to go and get her back. She was mine damn it! ++++++++++ For Caprice's the odyssey continues. After the Olive Garden I knew I couldn't stay near Cayden. I had to get away as fast as I could. I drove all afternoon and late into the evening. I followed a route different from the one the G.P.S. suggested. The G.P.S. listed a northeasterly route that would have taken me up and around Philadelphia and New York City. I took a more westerly route. I drove over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and swung around west of Baltimore and then up #I 70 to #I 81. This way I'd scoot right across Maryland, through Central Pennsylvania and into New York. I got tired as I reached the Maryland Pennsylvania line so I pulled in to a motel for the night. Cayden had left me a box and some paperwork in a manila folder. I decided to look the stuff over before setting out again in the morning. I laid out everything on the bed. There was a bankbook, a checking account book, a VISA card, insurance information, the title to the car, and two smaller envelopes. I opened the thicker envelope. There weren't any pictures, but I found my arrest record, information about my parents, and a stack of papers detailing all the things they'd done to try to find me. God, they must have spent a fortune; that made me feel bad. I read all the stuff over and over. I remembered a few things, but most of it was still just kind of a blur. My father was a minister in Rochester. My mother had been his secretary. Both of them were older people. It was clear I was a late in life baby. I figured it up. If I was thirty my mother was probably sixty-nine close to seventy now. My father was around seventy-one; it all depended on which month of the year they were each born. It was pretty clear what had happened. I'd turned eighteen and run away; I couldn't remember why. I couldn't remember much of anything. Somehow right about the time I ran away I must have gotten hooked up with some bad people. One thing led to another, and after twelve years I wound up in a Central Pennsylvania tavern where a stupid Eastern Shore hay seed ended up buying me rather than seeing me suffocated. Of course the hay seed was Cayden. I stared at the second envelope. I knew it contained a letter to me from Cayden. I was afraid to open it. I thought about everything that had happened to me. I'd had a childhood. I had parents. I'd been a whore. None of that mattered. What mattered to me was in that second envelope. Yeah, some stupid naïve dumb backward jackass Eastern Shore farmer had saved my life, he'd fixed my body, given me a home and a life. Thanks to him I had friends. I'd become part of a community. People knew me at the Fire Hall. I belonged to a church. I had regular acquaintances. I'd stand around and talk to people at the supermarkets. I had a pretty regular spot on the beach where my best girlfriend and her daughter and I used to go and sunbathe and swim. Yeah, yeah look at what he'd done for me. He'd made all these things happen, and then he showed me my past and sent me on my way. Yeah, great, he'd given me a life but in the giving he'd ripped my heart out of my body and hidden it away from me. Damn it, in seven months I'd gone from scared lonely whore to scared and lonely ex-whore. Thanks Cayden thanks a lot. I opened the second envelope. Yeah, damn him, he'd written a stupid letter, stupid hick farmer. I opened it and read it. He was no Shakespeare. 'Dear Lauren', the jackass, he would use my real name. 'I only have five things I want to say. First, don't worry about Angie and Emily. I'll take care of them. Second, I know it will be hard, but you need to see your parents. They've been hunting for you for twelve years. You need to reconnect. Third, more than anything or anyone I love you. I'll love you all the rest of my life. I mean it; I'll love you till the day I die. Fourth, I'll wait for you. You owe me nothing, but I want you to know I'll always be here for you. Fifth, you have a car and you have a cell phone. The G.P.S. has a setting that will show you how to get back to me if you ever feel like it. In the cell phone contact list I've put my land line and my cell phone number. That's all I have to say. If you have any worries go back and reread the third thing. If that's not enough then reread number four. Love Cayden.' I read the letter maybe twenty times. The man is an asshole. I didn't expect a sonnet, but this was about as romantic as the directions on a medicine bottle. How can you not love someone like that? I put the letter away, and curled up on the bed. I thought about Cayden; oh that wonderful stupid man. I knew I had to find my parents; after that, well I sort of had a plan. I got up and undressed and lay back down on the bed. I spent the next couple hours masturbating. I had this nice clean nearly tattoo free body. Thanks to the exercise and attention I got on Cayden's farm I had two pretty firm tits, and thanks to Cayden I had a beautiful new sweet spot that had been touched by only one man. I teared up over that; was the sweet spot in my vagina or in my heart? While I lay there fingering my new body I vowed; 'only one man has touched me, and if I live another hundred years no other man ever would.' I felt a little puffy around my stomach. I counted back to that second time when I'd had sex, no made love, with Cayden. I knew then I was fertile. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but I believed something was going on. I had a strong premonition I'd be seeing the asshole again; that made me feel better. ++++++++++ Breakfast at Cayden's. I was up early. I wanted to get things ready so when Emily came out she'd be able to choose what she wanted for breakfast. This was a farm so eggs, sausage, scrapple, bacon, ham, pancakes, they were all readily at hand. The Curse of the Scots Ch. 07 Emily came out wearing an adorable little one piece dress, ruffled collar, long sleeves with ruffled cuffs. She had on white stockings and black patent leather shoes. Angie had put her hair up in pig tails. I could see she was pretty uncertain, maybe a little scared. I whipped out what I hoped was my very best daddy smile, "Who's up for breakfast?" I ran off the list. Angie yawned and said, "Just coffee for me." I started to pour her a cup. I plunked in some cream and sugar. I remembered how Angie liked it. While I stirred it I asked Emily, "And what about you little lady?" Emily shot me a pensive look, "Could I have some French toast?" I smiled as broadly as I could. I thought if I smiled much bigger my teeth would fall out, "French toast on the way!" I grabbed a soup bowl, two eggs, and some milk. I broke the eggs and dropped the yolks and whites in the soup bowl. I followed it up with the milk. I started mixing the stuff up. Angie sat on a dining room chair and watched. Emily sat on a stool over close to me at the kitchen counter, "So you're my real daddy." I grinned, "I sure am." "Mommy always said you were mean." I slipped from smiley to sincere, "I've been pretty mean in the past, especially to your mommy, but not anymore. You'll never see me being mean to your mom, and I mean it." She asked, "Why?" "Why was I mean?" She nodded. I'd already plopped two pieces of bread in the batter, and they were cooking away on the skillet. I tried to answer her, "I guess when you love someone, I mean really love them, you act in ways that don't make any sense." "You love my mommy?" I placed the French toast on a plate. I pushed the butter and syrup toward Emily too. I looked at Angie, "I love your mommy very much." Emily asked, "Do you love me?" I put a napkin beside her plate while she used a fork to cut up her toast, "Yes, I love you too." Emily kept shoveling the toast in her mouth. I wondered if she ever learned how to chew. She told me, "I have a pony." "I know that, his name's Johnny." Emily drank some of the orange juice I'd poured out for her, "How did you know?" I cast a look at Angie. Angie had already found out I'd gotten the pony, but I didn't know what she'd told Emily. Angie nodded so I guessed it was all right to tell Emily the truth, "I got him for you." Emily put her fork down. She was finished anyway, "You did?" I nodded. She asked, "Why?" "You're my little girl. I love you. I wanted you to have a pony. Do you like him?" She smiled, "Yeah, I like Johnny." She turned to her mother, "Time for school." She got up and started for the front door. Then she turned back and looked at me, "You'll be here when I get home?" I smiled, "Sure will." I had a lot to do today, but I knew no matter where I was I'd stop and get home so I could greet her when she got off the bus. Imagine, one day, in one day she'd completely taken over my life. What a great thing to have happened. Angie helped Emily into her jacket, she put on her own, "I'll be right back." I looked around, "Don't try to walk her all the way back to the bus stop. Why don't you drive her to school?" "Cayden I haven't driven in years. My father took my license. I don't have a car. You know that." I turned and threw my keys to the Lexus at her, "You need to start driving again. We'll get your license later when you get back." As they walked out the door Emily stopped and turned around. I knew she was looking at me, "I wish Auntie Caprice was here." I didn't look up, I kept fiddling with the dishwasher, but I replied, "I do too." ++++++++++ Who am I? Caprice? Lauren? I took my time driving to Rochester. I had to think. Not think actually; I had to try to figure things out. I know I was scared. What would I say? After what I'd done to these two old people, what could I say? ++++++++++ I reached Rochester and followed the GPS toward my old home. Once I got in the old neighborhood things started to jump, no dribble, out at me. I drove by my old high school, then the middle school, and last my old elementary school. I kind of remembered them, but I couldn't put any life in them. They all looked old and sort of bedraggled. Somehow I knew where our church was; it was called Highland Presbyterian. I saw my dad's name wasn't on the billboard anymore. I guess he must have retired. It felt funny; I'd expected it to be there. I drove down to the old neighborhood; down my street. I remembered the houses; they all looked a little more haggard, but otherwise things still looked the same. Well I thought they did. I spotted some familiar landmarks. Remembered when I was a kid someone had bought one of those mirrored globes and put it in their front yard. It was still there. Some trees had been cut down. I remembered the trees because I saw the stumps. I recognized most of the stuff, but in a lot of ways it all still seemed foreign to me. It was like I knew about all of it, but was somebody else's memories. Everything was familiar, but nothing stood out. At last I reached the final address; 8257 Sycamore. I drove by kind of slow. Whoever lived there must have just bought a new car; it was a Chevrolet. I remembered, my father always drove Chevys. I drove down, made a U-turn and passed back by. I saw and remembered the rose bushes. There was a swing on the front porch. I remembered that. I passed by as slow as I could and tried to get a glimpse in the backyard. My mind crashed! I saw and remembered the swing set. When I was a little girl my dad and I had put it up together; or more honestly, he put it up while I talked and skipped all around. I remembered I wore all kinds of buttons and little medals on my shirt. I had some kind of plastic ring, and I had I think an Ariel wristwatch. I'd had on a Mickey Mouse Tee shirt. We'd gone to Disney World. I remembered that. I remembered my dad! I remembered how much I adored him. I worshipped him. It was over for me. I started to cry. I could hear his voice as he quietly scolded, "Now Lauren; what would Jesus do? You know how much we love you." I had run away. I was a cruel little bitch. Jesus would never forgive me for what I did. I pushed my foot down on the gas pedal. I had to get out there. I started to remember things. My mom, her apple pies, bread pudding, her aprons, choir practice, dance lessons, girl scouts, my dad at the piano. I had to get away! I'd had the perfect life, the perfect family, the best mom and dad, and I'd run away! Why? I drove to a nearby motel, a Motel Six. I got a room, bought a six pack of Pepsis, went in, cried, and tried to go to sleep. I had to figure this out. I knew I had to see them, see my mom and dad. Damn, I knew I couldn't do it. I'd hurt them so much. I lay there on the bed and tried to remember. ++++++++++ I lay awake all night and tried to remember. Mostly I cried. I didn't remember much, mostly snatches of this and that; going to New York to see 'Cats'. I had Madonna records, a unicorn poster, rainbow wallpaper. I remembered sleep overs. I had girlfriends. I got good grades in school, all A's. I liked English, hated history. I'd run away. I think there might have been a boy. I must have run away to be with him; he turned out to be something other than what I thought. I remember Buffalo, after that I think Detroit. I remember taking drugs, being locked in different rooms. I remembered Chicago. I think I'd been taken to Indianapolis. I know I remembered Scranton, then Harrisburg, and last East Berlin or was it Dillsburg. Yeah I'd been around, or been passed around. I remembered a few men, not many, not near as many as I should. I think I'd had an abortion once. I remember being beaten, slapped a lot, not having anything to wear and not enough to eat. I remembered Fraternity parties; the Frat boys were among the worst. There'd been bachelor parties, and team parties, and company parties, and birthday parties. I remember cucumbers and zucchini being shoved inside me. There'd been black men, white men, and Asians. Oh yeah I remembered the black guys; talk about overrated, most weren't as big as a typical white boy, not that I cared or that it really mattered. By sunrise I realized I couldn't find a reason why I'd run away; I just had. Now I had to find a way back. I thought I'd keep an eye out on my parent's house. I'd watch; maybe I'd follow, see what they were doing. Damn it. Who was I? What was I doing? I'd been fucked, beaten, shackled, tied, gang banged, name it and it happened, and now I was afraid to face two helpless old people. Twelve years, twelve years I'd been tossed around, passed around, and beaten, and I couldn't handle two old people? Shit! ++++++++++ Cayden gets called out. I'd been driving my tractor down the road changing from one set of fields to another and thought I'd stop in at the Gas & Go and get a soda. I'd been cutting the tall grass on the edges of the fields so it would be easier when we pulled in with the harvesters. I liked Pepsi. As I was just opening the can, just about to remount my trusty old John Deere when some guy showed up out of nowhere. He walked over to me, "Hey you Cayden McLeish?" I turned around. He didn't look like much, "Yeah," once I would have said 'what of it', not anymore. I asked, "What can I do for you?" He held out his hand and gave me this smarmy smile, "My name's not important. Most people just call me Spike." I could see why. He had his hair all greased and up in a row of spikes. I replied, "Like I said, what can I do for you?" He smiled that greasy smile again, "We have a mutual friend, a guy named Vince. You remember Vince. He lives up in Pennsylvania." I glanced over at his car; a late model Camry, Pennsylvania tags. I remembered Vince was the guy who sold me Caprice. I must have paled because his smile got wider. He said, "You do remember. Vince wants to know how Caprice is doing. He wants to buy her back." I held my breath, "She's not for sale." Spike, still smiling, asked, "Do you know where she is?" I let out a sigh of relief. His remark led me to believe they didn't know anything. I answered, "Yeah I know where she is, and like I said, she's not for sale." Spike made an offer, "Vince said he paid close to $5,000.00. He's willing to throw in another thousand. How about it?" I replied, "Like I said, she's not for sale. She's not into that lifestyle anymore. Got herself a husband, has a kid on the way, moved to New York." OK, so I lied, but these people weren't getting their hands on her ever again. Spike really smiled then, "So Caprice finally broke free, got herself a man, and now she's having a baby. Well good for her. You don't remember me. I was there the night you bought her. I always sort of liked her. She was a tough kid; never cracked, never broke, and I mean lots of guys tried." He started to turn to walk away, "I'll tell Vince. He was only half interested anyway." He looked back one more time before he got in his car, "If you ever see her, tell I said Hi." I didn't budge or move a muscle, "Like I said, she moved away. Nobody sees her anymore." The guy Spike got in his car and drove off. So that was the end of Vince and Pennsylvania. ++++++++++ Rochester, New York. I've been hovering around the old house for more than a week. I've seen both mom and dad. It breaks my heart to see them. They're both so old and frail. Daddy uses a cane. He's all hunched over; not anything like the strong man I vaguely remembered. Mom looks like she lost fifty pounds. She was never a very big woman, but now she looks skeletal. She's the one who gets out the most. She has a kind of pattern. She shops mostly at the Walmart, but she gets gas and donuts at a Dunkin Donuts near the house. She doesn't do much else. I guess, being so frail, she's a little afraid. They needed to be taken care of; that would have been my job; I've let them down. ++++++++++ I decided to follow her into the Walmart. Why not; maybe I'll see something that might stir up some old memories. I was lying to myself. I remembered enough. I was just scared. I watched as she parked her car in a handicapped spot and went in. She had kind of a shuffling gait. I waited a couple minutes and followed. I felt sick; sick to my stomach and sick in my heart. Here I was hiding; hiding from my mom. I should be there with her. I know I'm a coward. I'm not the girl my mom and dad raised. I know God was setting aside a special place in hell just for me. I felt like everybody was watching me. Christ, I felt like a roach and someone was getting ready to shine a light on me. I never felt so alone in my life. I never felt so scared. I never felt so ashamed, so alone. I wished Cayden was...I could drive back and tell Cayden they didn't want...No...I...he. God I'm such a coward. I saw her as she got a cart and started toward the aisle where they kept the cleaners. I thought I'd slip around and discreetly watch as she shopped. I kind of hunkered down and walked along a parallel aisle. I started looking at some of the stuff in the aisle I was traveling. I thought I was doing pretty well. I reached the end of the aisle and turned the corner. Jesus! She was right in front of me! She's standing right in front of me. Christ Jesus! She's looking right at me. Holy God! She sees me! She recognizes me! My mom knows who I am! My mom's face; her face went completely white. Her mouth dropped open like she wanted to say something. I gasped! I put my hand to my mouth and I gasped. I turned around and ran away as fast as I could. She saw me. My mom, she saw me! What was I going to do? I ran straight out to the parking lot. I ran out to my car. I found my car, I fumbled with my purse, got my keys, unlocked the door. I jumped in, and I drove back to the Motel Six as fast as I could. On the way back I started to cry. I started heaving. My stomach twisted into a million knots. I needed to throw up. What was I going to do? I had no idea. I was so scared. I ran in my room, closed the door, and ran and hid in the bathroom. Oh I wanted to die. I couldn't stop crying. What if she had a heart attack? What if she had a stroke? What have I done? I might have killed my mother! I cried. I couldn't stop. I was so scared. I felt so all alone. I ran in the bathroom. I curled up and hid in the shower. I just couldn't stop crying. I can't do this! I just can't. I'm so afraid. I need help! I'm so alone. I need someone! I need... ++++++++++ Back from my farm work I was staring absentmindedly out the back window when the house phone rang. I ignored it. Angie went and picked it up. I just sat and looked out at the sky; the gloomy October sky. It reflected my mood. Angie called over, "Cayden." I turned around, "I hope it's important. I'd hate to think the damn phone awakened Emily." Angie held out the phone for me, "Cayden, it's Caprice." Caprice! I jumped from the sofa and hurried to the phone, "What's up. Did she say anything? Is she all right?" Angie just held out the phone, "She doesn't sound so good." I grabbed the phone. My mind was going in a million different directions. Had she gotten hooked up with that Vince? Had she gone someplace and got into trouble? I took a deep breath, "Hello." I heard her voice. It was like the sun had come back out. Sparrows were singing! Was that a whippoorwill? It felt like spring time! "Cayden?" "It's me." "Cayden I need you." I had a bunch of questions, "Are you all right. You didn't have a wreck? You're not hurt. You didn't get mixed up with anyone..." She interrupted, "I saw them. I saw my mom and my dad. My mom saw me. Cayden I can't. I just can't I'm scared. I'm so scared," I heard her break down in tears. "OK, where are you?" She was crying and sniffling and coughing, "I'm at the Motel Six just outside Rochester off of #I 81," she sniffed again, "In room 115." I breathed a great sigh of relief, "OK, you're not hurt. You're not physically injured. You didn't wreck the car. Ok, all right; just stay there. We'll be there in a few hours." She was crying and blubbering like a baby. I'd never heard anything like it; certainly not from her. Through her tears she whimpered, "Cayden I'm so scared. I don't know what to do. I'm afraid. Promise me, promise you'll come." I wanted to cry too, but not because I was sad; I was jubilant! She needs me! I replied, "Don't be afraid. Angie and I will be there as soon as we can. We'll call every couple hours just to keep you up to date." She was still crying, "I'm scared Cayden." She's scared! I inadvertently tightened my stomach and flexed my biceps. I guess I unconsciously puffed up my chest because Angie gave me a funny quizzical look. I kept talking, "Caprice it's me, Cayden. Have I ever let you down?" She stopped crying and I heard her sniff, "No." I had the situation in hand; God, I was made for this! I very calmly told her, "Good. You know me. Angie's figuring out the time and route right now," actually we hadn't done anything yet; "we're on our way. You sound tired. I want you to get a shower. Take a hot shower. Go to bed. Get some rest. Don't worry. We'll figure this out when we get there." She started crying again, "I love you Cayden. I knew you'd come for me." Oh music sweet music; I answered, "Always sweetheart. Now you get yourself a nice hot shower. Put on something comfy and go to bed. I bet you haven't eaten. Why don't you call out and get some pizza or something. Call a Papa Johns; get a medium pizza with extra cheese," I knew she liked that, "We'll work it out. It'll all be fine." She whimpered, "OK." "All right now hang up the phone." She asked, "Can I talk to Angie?" I said sure. I handed the phone to Angie, "She wants to talk to you. Keep her calm. Think of things that will keep her busy. Get her to go to bed. I'll pack up some stuff," I added, "Oh yeah, you're coming too." Angie held the phone. I could hear Caprice on the other end. She'd stopped crying. Angie asked me, "What about Emily?" I hesitated, "I don't know. Do you think we should take her? This could be pretty traumatic." Angie didn't blink an eye, "I think she should go too." I wasn't so sure, "We'd have to take her out of school." Angie was firm, "They'll be good for each other," and then she added, "She'll get to see her daddy be a hero." Wow! I liked that. I shrugged, "Well if you say so." Angie talked to Caprice for a few more minutes; then she started collecting clothes for herself and Emily. Maybe fifteen minutes later she was at Emily's room, "Emily, Emily honey." I watched from the hallway. Angie whispered, "Emily you and I and daddy are going to see Caprice. She's in trouble and needs us," I heard her add, "she needs your daddy." God I felt good! I liked the sound of that, daddy the hero. Emily was wide awake, "She's not hurt?" I heard Angie murmur, "No Emily, she's just scared and alone. We're going to be her rescue party." Emily was up and on the side of her bed, my old bed, "I'll get dressed. I'll pick out a stuffed animal for her." Warmth seemed to permeate the whole house. I felt like I was in some stupid Hallmark movie. Angie graced her daughter with a soft smile, "That's my girl." ++++++++++ It took us about a half an hour to get organized and packed. I decided on the Lexus; that way Angie, though she still didn't have her license, could give me a break every once in a while as we drove. We got the Motel's location on the GPS, and we were very nearly on our way when the phone rang again. It was Caprice again. Angie got the phone, "Yes?" Caprice asked to talk to me again. I got the phone. "Hello Cayden?" "Yes?" "I just wanted to say; you don't have to come if you don't want to." The Curse of the Scots Ch. 07 I sighed, "I want to." Caprice replied, "You're sure?" "I'm sure." "You're not mad?" "No I'm not mad." She whimpered, "You don't have to if you don't want to." I told her, "You're my sweetheart. I want to." "Well, OK." I asked, "Anything else?" She answered, "No, I just..." I told her, "We love you. I love you. We're coming. I'm coming." She sniffed and then answered, "I just wanted to be sure." I replied again. Maybe I was a little gruff, "Don't worry and don't be stupid. I'm on my way. Whatever it is I can fix it. I'll take care of it. Then I'm bringing you home." She sniffed again, "OK, I'll wait here." I hung up the phone. Angie asked, "What was that about?" I shrugged, "Caprice is all over the place. She needed to be reassured." Angie grinned, "You sure did that." I laughed. At last we were on our way. ++++++++++ In Rochester two old people talk. "I swear Katie I can't handle any more of this." Katie looked at her husband. Once he was a tower of strength, a mountain of a man, but since their girl had disappeared she'd watched him slowly die. What she saw in the big old lazy boy now was a shadow, a slumped over feeble shadow of the man she remembered, "She's here Evan. I saw her." "If what you say is true, and mind you Katie I don't believe you, not for a minute, I still have no idea what to do." Katie replied, "We could call around; call all hotels and motels. See if anyone's used the name Fischer, or if anyone who fits her description is registered." "Then what Katie? First, do we even really know what she looks like now? Then even if there was someone who looks like her or who's used the name Fischer then what? Do we go and confront her? What if she runs away? Then what?" "Then what do we do Evan?" "I don't know. I just don't know. Oh Katie, I wish I was dead." Katie stumbled over to her husband. The sighting had nearly killed her, but she knew it was her Lauren. Her daughter was alive, and she was somewhere nearby. If she'd come this far, then maybe...,"OK, Evan; we'll wait. Let's pray." Evan got up and knelt on the floor. He couldn't remember how many times he'd prayed like this. He knew it wouldn't do any good, but... Together the two tired old people knelt on the threadbare carpet and prayed, "Dear Jesus..." ++++++++++ Somewhere in southern New York a freshly fueled Lexus pulled into a MacDonald's for a food and a pee break. Sitting across from Cayden's empty seat with Emily beside her Angie took a napkin and wiped her daughter's cheek, "How did you get to be such a messy eater little girl?" "Mommy, how long before we get to see Auntie Caprice?" "Not long honey. Oh look here comes Cayden," the two girls watched as Cayden strolled out of the men's room, and walked to where they were seated. I got over and stood beside Emily, "You two go to the bathroom, and did you get something to eat?" Angie flipped me a fake frown, "Sure took you long enough." I smiled, "Well sometimes a man's got to do what a man's got to do." Emily held up a bag, "Mommy bought you a burger, a coffee, and a small fries just like you wanted." I took the bag and coffee and spoke to Angie, "You drive while I eat." The three tired travelers all got up and started back out toward the Lexus. ++++++++++ In a quiet motel room just outside Rochester a frightened woman sat by the telephone. She checked the clock. It had only been an hour since she'd last called Cayden. She wondered; should she call again? She'd been calling almost every hour since she first showered. She picked up the phone and tapped in his cellphone number. It only rang twice before Cayden answered. He spoke very calmly and reassuringly, "Hi sweetheart. We had to stop for a pee, but we're back on the road. We're in New York so it won't be long now." Caprice answered, her lower lip a quiver, "I peed too. Hurry, please hurry." Cayden responded in a light hearted manner, "I don't know who's more impatient you or Emily. Why don't you wash your hair again? Tell you what braid it into a ponytail. We bought some ribbon at a convenience store; we'll put a bow in it when we get there. You have clean clothes?" Caprice replied with an unseen nod of her head and an answer, "I have that green blouse you like and I have a pair of slacks." He chuckled. It was fake, but he wanted to keep her mind occupied, "God I love you in that blouse. Take your time, but start to tidy yourself up. We'll all go out to eat when we get there." She answered, "I'm not hungry." He looked at Emily who was comfortably seated in the back in her safety seat and laughingly spoke into the phone, "Don't forget who you're talking to. This is 'Farmer Cayden'; you remember your dumb hick farmer guy? Well how're you going to grow up and be a big girl if you don't eat? You said yourself just a few nights before you left you were, you know," he talked in a lower tone so Emily wouldn't hear, "fertile. What if you've got a bun in the oven?" Emily heard that, "Is Caprice cooking something?" Angie looked in the rearview mirror, "No honey, Cayden just made a stupid joke," she frowned at Cayden. On the other end of the phone Caprice could be heard asking, "What's going on?" Cayden responded, "Nothing, Emily just heard my comment about the oven." Caprice said, "Well I'm still not hungry." Cayden answered, "Do you want me to spank you?" "You wouldn't." "What, put you over my knee and spank those beautiful cheeks till they turn pink?" Caprice almost giggled, "OK, I'll eat." Cayden replied, "Now go and wash your hair. I want to see a braided ponytail when I get there," he flipped his phone closed. Caprice put the motel phone back in its slot. She smiled, but she was still nervous, she was still scared, but she felt better. Cayden was coming. ++++++++++ As the car speared its way through the beautiful New York countryside I glanced over at Angie, "I've never heard her quite like this." "Me neither," was Angie's reply, "She's always been the one in control." I checked the speedometer, "Don't drive too fast. Remember you don't have your license," I went on about Caprice, "Once we were out in the truck, out in the field; she tried to run away. When I caught her she just went limp. She clammed up. I mean it was like she just disappeared. It scared me." Angie checked for traffic in the rear, "She's been through a lot Cayden. She's had it rough. You recall that girl who'd been kidnapped and held prisoner all those years? I'm sure we don't know the half of it." I scrunched up the hamburger and French fry papers and stuffed them in the bag Emily had handed me, "That girl remembered who she was. She remembered her past. Caprice has blocked everything out." "Yes, I remember," replied Angie, "We've got to face something here. In spite of what we've seen with Caprice; she's not the tough little alley cat we think she is. She's a frail little kitty. I don't want to get her back just to lose her again." I smoldered, "Get her back, lose her; I know this. When we're done here she's coming back home. If I have to I'll build her parents a house. I can sell some of the lots along the river. Hey maybe while we build it they can move in with your mother?" Angie looked through the increasingly dirty windshield and espied a turn off, "I'm pulling in. I want you to drive a while." I grinned, "What are you going to do?" She glared at me, "I'm going to spend the rest of trip pinching you." I laughed, "I'm sorry about the crack about your mother. Don't worry; we'll look after her too." Angie turned into the off ramp that led to the rest area. ++++++++++ The rest of the drive was completed in silence. Both Angie and Cayden had concerns they needed to grapple with. Angie knew getting Caprice to come home wouldn't be as easy as Cayden thought. She was no mind reader, but she knew enough to know that Caprice had decided to step aside so Cayden could remarry her. Caprice wanted to be noble; well that was bullshit. She couldn't allow it. Oh she loved Cayden with all her heart, but she loved Caprice too. Cayden was right; Caprice needed to come back, but she'd have to come back as the future Mrs. McLeish. It would be tricky, but she'd figure it out. Cayden realized how right Angie was. Caprice's life so far had been a charade, a fantasy. When she finally had to face her parents her fantasy, that phony persona she'd more or less invented would come face to face with her reality. What would that do to her? No, she wasn't tough, she wasn't strong, she was brittle; the least misstep could destroy her. They'd have to be careful. He knew what he had to do. He figured since Palm Sunday night, Jesus that was like a lifetime ago, she'd been wrapped, no swaddled, in a protective cocoon. He'd done that. With her trip north she'd stepped out of that protected shell. He was no genius, but he guessed if all her terrible realizations didn't overwhelm her right away he might be able to re-embrace her; sort of save her again. He shivered. He felt like somebody had just walked over his grave. Now who was living in a fantasy? ++++++++++ We pulled into the parking lot of the Motel Six. I spotted her car. I eased into a spot nearly beside it, "Angie you and Emily go inside first. I spotted a Hampton Inn back a ways. We'll need more space. I'm going to call and see what they've got." We'll need a bigger room, besides I want to change Caprice's immediate environment a little bit." Angie nodded. She awakened Emily, and got her out of her car seat, "Come on baby, we're here." Emily looked up excitedly, "We're at Caprice's?" "Sure are," carrying her on her hip Angie lumbered to the door they figured was Caprice's. She knocked. Inside Caprice had heard a car pull up. She checked her face in the mirror. When she heard the knock on the door she was ready. All smiles she opened the door. She saw Angie and Emily, her smile evaporated, "Where's Cayden?" Angie pointed to the trunk of the Lexus, "He's on the lot calling the Hampton Inn. He thinks we'll need a bigger room." Caprice wasn't listening; she pushed past Angie and Emily and raced to the rear of the Lexus. When she got within two feet she stopped. Cayden was on his cell phone. He looked serious; fear overtook her! I looked over and saw her. I smiled. I could see the relief flood over her face. She rushed into my arms, "You came." I held the phone in one hand and whispered in her ear, "Of course silly," I squeezed her tight to my chest while I talked into the phone, "That's right we want the big one, two king sized beds, and a fold out sofa. You say it has a microwave, a refrigerator, and an oversized bathtub right? Good we'll take it. We'll be there in a half an hour," I read off my VISA card's numbers and hung up. Flipping my phone closed I took Caprice in my arms, "Gee I've missed you." She pressed her face against my chest and started crying, "I'm scared Cayden. My mom, she saw me. I'm afraid. I left them. I don't know. I'm so scared. Cayden, they hate me. I know it." I pulled her head up and kissed her, then I put a finger to her lips, "Look," I pointed to Angie as she held Emily, "Does Angie hate Emily? Does Mrs. Bradford hate Angie? Not on your life. Parents aren't like that. Look darling we're here now. I'm here now. Let me take care of this. I guarantee; everything will be fine." Caprice wrapped her arms around me; she squeezed as tightly as she could. She pressed her face back against my chest; it felt good. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to; I was here, with her, it would be OK. The four of us went inside. I told Angie, "Pack up our girl's stuff," I looked around and found Angie's purse, "now where's that ribbon?" I found the piece of green ribbon and pointed Caprice toward the small sofa, "Sit over here. I need to fix your hair." Caprice, all smiles, skipped over, sat down, and patiently waited while I fluffed her ponytail and tied the ribbon in a big bow. I leaned around, "Now that's better. I saw an IHOP on the way in. I have a hankering for some pancakes and fried eggs. We'll pick up some microwave popcorn, and then slip over to the Hampton Inn. I want to watch a movie," It didn't happen exactly that way, but I was close enough. While her mom had been packing Caprice's stuff, Emily had been watching her dad and her Auntie Caprice, "Can I choose the movie?" Cayden grinned, "Nothing scary." Emily whooped, "Oh Daddy." ++++++++++ Thirty minutes later Cayden had them checked out of the Motel Six. He and Caprice got in her car and drove to the Hampton Inn. Angie with Emily followed in the Lexus. He checked them in while Caprice moved to the Lexus. Shortly thereafter they were on their way to the IHOP. ++++++++++ Once they got to the IHOP they were seated pretty quickly. Angie and Caprice both got omelets. They got a smaller omelet for Emily. I got the full deal; three fried eggs, pancakes, hash browns, and sausage patties. I was hungry. While they were eating Angie put down her fork and looked squarely at me. She popped the platinum question, "So what's the plan?" I kept shoveling food in my mouth while I talked; but I couldn't miss the woebegone look in Caprice's eyes, "Tonight we're watching a movie. Tomorrow I want the three of you to go shopping. Take the Lexus and drive north. I hear the ritziest malls are on the north side of town. I want you girls to take the credit card and buy out the stores." Angie was a little confused, "We really don't need anything. Why should we go shopping?" I put down my fork, "That's a first; three beautiful women are told to spend money, and they don't know what to do. I said I want the three of you to spend some money. Shop, buy toiletries, skirts, dresses, blouses, you know, the works." Caprice was white as a sheet, "What are you going to do?" "I'm going to visit some parents." Caprice looked sick, "Shouldn't I go too?" I picked my fork back up and scooped up some more egg, "I'll tell you when, and when I do we'll all go together." Caprice looked horror stricken; she had nothing to say. I didn't let it lapse, "I'm looking at my three women, and make no mistake. You're all mine. No one's alone at this table. All for one and one for all is what I always say," it occurred to me that only a few months ago I was a complete loner. I would never have said anything like that. Now I was the provider and protector for three beautiful women. I liked the feeling. It was like...destiny. Like God had this plan...sort of...I guess...maybe. I added, "I'll go first, you know, pave the way; then we'll all visit our parents together," I made sure to place extra emphasis on the word 'our'. I wanted to make sure Caprice understood she was a part of something. She wasn't alone, and I was determined she'd never be alone or feel alone again. I made a big mistake when I sent her north alone; I wouldn't make that mistake again. We finished dinner. As we got up to go I looked over at Caprice, "You leave the gratuity dear." It gave her something to do. She left a Hamilton. ++++++++++ Back at the Hampton Inn we watched something dumb, a cartoon about a mermaid. Actually it wasn't half bad; Emily liked it. I mean it was about a mermaid who became a person; like a mermaid person who became a regular person. When it was time for bed we put Emily in the king sized bed in the center. I opened out the sofa. Caprice and Angie shared the other big bed. I lay awake listening for the soft even breathing typical of people at rest. Once I was sure all my girls were asleep I rolled on my side facing them and drifted off. Tomorrow would be an important day. I thought about Aunt Maggie, Aunt Olive, and Uncle Mitchel and Johnny. I felt like I was ready. Maybe the old people hadn't done such a bad job with me after all? I'd find out in the morning. I was foolish. Just as I thought I could relax and sleep somebody stealthily slid in the sofa bed beside me. It was Caprice. She moved as close as she could; so close I found it hard to move or breathe. I felt her as she curled up in a tiny fetal ball. In the dim half-light of the motel room I saw she'd slipped her right thumb in her mouth. I reached over, pulled her thumb and hand away. I moved it down to her breasts. I pulled her closer, my chest to her back and whispered, "Sleep tight sweetie." I felt her body relax against mine. Five minutes later I saw Angie climb in on Caprice's other side. Maybe two minutes after that I got a glimpse of Emily standing by the sofa bed, "Hey, where do I sleep?" I backed away so that I was on the extreme edge of the sofa bed. Caprice must have been awake; she backed up with me. Emily climbed over Angie and settled down in the middle. All huddled together we finally got to sleep. ++++++++++ It's all Cayden. I'd set the room clock for 9:00, and I didn't let anybody do much stirring before that. Emily peed, Angie dressed, and poor Caprice just stared at me. I told her, "Caprice don't fret. I've got everything under control. I want all you girls to make a day of it. Let me do my job." She nodded, but the look on her face showed me how scared she was. I kept at her, "Caprice I want you to drive. Stay clear of where I'm going, and I don't want any cell phone calls," I laughed, "Don't call me, I'll call you. You guys go spend some money. Have a good lunch. Caprice give me the keys to your car. You girls take the Lexus." I got the girls off, and got ready. I slipped on a pair of jeans, a white button down shirt, some dark socks, and a pair of Rockport shoes. I wanted to look comfortable, but not too formal or too relaxed. My moment had come. I took my time driving to the Fischer's. I got there a little after 11:00. I pulled to the curb in front of their house and got out. I looked around. It was an older house, a small rancher, a lot like the Bradford's. The lawn looked good; the hedges needed to be trimmed. They had one of those porcelain Dutch Boy ornaments in the front garden. It looked kind of old. I bet it'd been there since before Caprice left. They had an old front porch swing. I thought of the old John Anderson song 'Swingin'. I sort of checked around the back. Her child's swing set was still there; that sort of choked me up. When I was a kid I'd always wanted one but had been afraid to ask. I wondered if I had asked; I bet they'd have put one up. Well the time had come. I walked up to the front door. I rang the bell. I didn't have to wait long. An older lady opened the door. She was maybe 5'4". She looked frail. She had pretty skin, white, clear, good complexion and she had soft green eyes, damn green eyes. She looked at me; she looked a little frightened, "Hello, may I help you?" I asked, "Is this the Fischer residence?" I heard someone from inside call out asking who it was. The old lady answered, "Yes this is the Fischer residence." I held out my hand, "My name is Cayden McLeish. I'm here about your daughter Lauren. May I come in please?" The old lady looked at me, "Lauren?" "Yes, may I please come in?" She stepped away from the front door and opened it wider. She looked back inside and spoke to someone, "There's a man here who knows something about Lauren." I stepped inside. A very old man approached me, "You know my daughter?" I replied, "Very well. May I sit down?" The old lady moved toward a sofa and tried to straighten an already straightened set of pillows, "Yes please, sit here." The old man took up a seat in a tattered lazy boy. The old woman asked, "Can I get you something, some coffee? A muffin?" "Some coffee would be nice," I figured anything that would ease the tension. The old man looked at me, and repeated himself, "So you know my daughter?" The Curse of the Scots ++++++++++ We start off for my home: As I drove off I didn't see anybody trying to follow me, but that didn't mean anything. Pretty soon Vince or somebody would realize I'd made off with what they'd think was a valuable piece of property. Hell, for all I knew they might have installed some kind of tracking unit in a wheel well or something. I doubted it; they didn't look that smart. I could see the sun was just starting to come up. I looked over at my new piece of property. Christ she was one fucked up mess. Vince had beaten the living shit out of her. There were belt marks all over her chest, back, stomach, and legs. Her body had a few tattoos; one I recognized as a typical whore property marker; that was a black bar code across her shoulders just under the nape of her neck. Most of her other tattoos didn't look half bad; there was a small butterfly on an ass cheek, a few tiny birds made to look like they're flitting around her left shoulder and a rather pretty flower of some sort on her left breast. It looked like a lily. I could see now in the early light she had what looked like maybe a week old black eye. There were other bruises all over. Yeah, this bitch had been through some shit. ++++++++++ I hated the damn long drive home with nothing to do but talk to myself. I guess I had about seven hours travel time. She looked pretty beat. I figured we'd drive along and I'd let her sleep until we got south of Dover, Delaware, then I'd pull into a Walmart or Target or someplace and get her something simple to wear. I skipped the idea of food. We'd wait till we got to my farm. I didn't want her throwing up inside my truck. Sure there was dog hair and all in it, but that was OK. I just didn't want a lot of vomit on the seats. I looked at her. She seemed about half asleep, I wondered how she was doing. I asked her, "You thirsty?" She nodded. "How about a coke?" She nodded again. I wondered just how much she'd been allowed to do. I wondered if she'd even been allowed to talk much. She looked like someone who was just about at the end of her rope. I wondered if I shouldn't have let them just kill her. No, not really. I was glad I didn't. Who knows they might have killed her and tried to pin it on me? I found a Turkey Hill, they're the Pennsylvania version of a 7-11. I left her in the truck while I went in and got two bottled cokes. I didn't want to risk her spilling anything; that's why I got bottles instead of fountain cokes. I took them back, twisted off the lid for her, stuffed in a straw, and handed it to her. I watched as she took a sip. I saw her extend her pinky finger. Well what did I know? She wasn't a complete moron? I told her, "Try to get some sleep. I'll wake you up before we get to my place." She only nodded. She evinced no interest in where we were going. I wondered if her lack of interest was stupidity or maybe just apathy. ++++++++++ Well with the seven hour drive ahead of me it gave me some time to reflect on who I am, and where I might be headed. One thing I knew for sure; I couldn't just drop this bitch off somewhere. So where do I begin. I guess if I told everyone a little about myself that might be a start. ++++++++++ First, I was born and raised on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay. That's a peninsula that encompasses parts of Maryland, Delaware, and Virginia; that's why they call it the Delmarva Peninsula. Most of my story takes place in those first two states. I was born in spite of a failed abortion attempt by my mother. I never knew my mother; she died just a few days after I came into the world. I was seven months along, two months early. I was the third child of farmers. My family owned a lot of land south of Selbyville, Delaware and west of the Dupont Highway. My father wasn't interested in trying to keep a premature baby just after his wife died so he had me placed in a back room to die. It was winter time, and I probably would have died except the Negro mother of a boy who worked for my father found me and took me to her home. She wrapped me in blankets and kept me on her stove, and to everybody's surprise I didn't die. Well my father, being a racist man, couldn't allow his son, no matter how unwelcome, to be raised by a black family, so he got me back and turned me over to relatives. As it happened it was my great-grandmother and four of her children who lived just about a half a mile from my father's; it was my great-grandmother who agreed to take me in. Honestly my great-grandmother didn't have much to do with me since my mom had been a Jewish girl named Elshevah. I think that's how she might have spelled it, I don't really know since they threw that name out when she married my father. They Anglicized it and basically made her go by Elizabeth, or Lizzie as I was told. Her father had been a jeweler; how she and my father came to fall in love and get married I'll never know. But here was this great big man, six feet four, wed to this little five foot two dark haired Jewess. That's what they said anyway. So I was born too soon as a result of a failed abortion, and neither my mother, who was dead anyway, nor my father really wanted me. Honestly, I'm pretty sure that my great-grandmother didn't really want me either. However my great-grandmother had talked four of her seven children into not getting married. Her husband, my great-grandfather I guess, had died prematurely as a result of a fishing trip where he got pneumonia, and I think my great-grandmother was afraid of being left alone. These four unmarried people included two brothers and two sisters. The oldest was named John. He was a real son-of-a-bitch. I never liked him. He was a drunk, and died pretty young. The youngest was a man also. His name was Mitchel. Mitchel had been in the military and had suffered some sort of ailment as a result of it. He spent most of his life just trying to breathe. That left the women, two sisters, Margaret and Olive. It was my Aunt Margaret mostly who raised me, but Aunt Olive helped some. Aunt Olive had to help out because Aunt Margaret was kind of crazy. Today they'd say Margaret was bi-polar with a heavy dose of Narcolepsy thrown in. All four of these old people were actually my great aunts and uncles, but I just called them aunt and uncle. They were already old when I went to live with them. I had some regular aunts and uncles; they were my father's brothers and sisters, but I hardly ever met any of them. They weren't very nice people anyway. I never knew or ever found anything out about my grandfather. Someone said he found his wife with another man. He killed the man, then his wife, and then he blew his own head off with a shot gun. No one ever talked about him. I didn't care anyway. From among the five old people who raised me Aunt Olive was the smartest; she'd gone off and become a nurse, but she'd come home to be a caregiver for her mother and siblings. Like I said, it was Aunt Margaret, Maggie, who really raised me; she was the only one I really loved. In fact, except for just one other person who I met when I was older I never even thought about loving anybody. It was a pretty strange upbringing. I was kind of like an only child. Aunt Maggie made sure nobody bothered me. I got just about anything I wanted, and it was extra lucky for me she lived the longest. Why is that important that Maggie lived the longest? I have two brothers and a sister through my real mother, and another two half-brothers and a half-sister through my father's second wife. Then through the two other uncles whom I've hardly ever seen there are seven more cousins. Worse, my grandfather was one of the three brothers who actually did leave my great-grandmother. The two of them had five children, and all of them have offspring. If Aunt Maggie hadn't specifically left me the farm it probably would have been sold off and the money divided up among more than thirty people. All these brothers, sisters, and uncles and cousins would have had a claim on the farm where I was raised if it hadn't been for my Aunt Maggie. She left me a nice farm, over three hundred acres cleared, another one hundred and sixty acres of woods, plus around twenty acres of river front property up in Delaware. She left it all to me. Not bad for somebody who was born too soon, and wasn't even wanted anyway. Honestly I had it made on one level, but life was still for shit growing up. First I always had plenty of money. I got a car right away at sixteen. Hell I was driving the pick-ups when I was twelve. On the other hand I had to do most of the work around the place. I didn't have to actually do much farm work; John and Mitchell did that, but we always had at least two horses, plus the usual chickens, geese, guineas, dogs, cats, steers, and swine. In other words, my uncles did the corn and soy beans. I did all the animals, plus outside maintenance like the grass, bushes, windows, and the roofs. We had two barns. Maggie had chicken houses, and there were several out buildings; like the corn stalks, tool sheds, a hen house, and an old outhouse. Even though we had indoor plumbing that included a bathroom with a tub, I had to keep up the outhouse. They were all worried someday the electricity might go out they'd be without a place to shit. It made sense I guess. I suppose by now everyone's wondering when they're going to hear more about the bitch next to me. Well it's a seven hour drive so fuck off. I just want everyone to know I'm not some dirt poor asshole. I've got land and resources. What I don't have is any friends and I've had shitty luck with women; the whore beside me is just that much more proof of that. ++++++++++ How I fucked up my life right out of the Gate: I had a hell of a good time in high school. I drank, cussed, smoked, and played my way through my sophomore, junior, and senior years. My first true love after was Aunt Maggie, and still would be I guess if another woman hadn't shown up. She's a girl named Angie. Angie is not the whore by the way. Remember the whore's name is Caprice. Angie is somebody else entirely. Angie started out as this perfect kid. Her parents raised her to be a good upright Christian girl. I'm a Christian too. Well I'm working on it. Angie got excellent grades, went to church every Sunday, and I can say she minded her manners right through her senior year. Her problems didn't start till she graduated and got involved with me. Honestly Angie was never what anyone would call very pretty. She was a tiny little girl, basically flat chested, glasses, dark brown hair and brown eyes. If you remember the kids in the smartest classes in school I'm sure you remember all the flattest least attractive girls were usually in the best class. That was Angie. I took one look at Angie and decided this was someone I could have fun with. I don't mean take out and be nice to; I mean someone I could degrade. I mean like fuck over. I don't know why I felt that way. I honestly can't explain why I was like that or why I hurt her the way I did. I was just so angry all the time; angry, lonely, and mean. I was a hell raiser, and poor Angie was this really good kid. Of course, you know what I did to her. I introduced her to Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, and Old Granddad. I showed her how to smoke marijuana. I showed her how her little pussy worked. In short I took this sweet innocent kid and totally fucked her up. I admit it; I ruined her. How was I supposed to know that this not so pretty little girl had what they call an addictive personality? Booze lit her lights, marijuana gave her goose bumps, and sex drove her half wild. There were times when I could make her do anything I wanted. I made her suck me off on the old high school bleachers one night while all my drinking buddies sat around and watched. They all sat there and laughed while I gave her directions on how to do it better. I used to make her wear the shittiest most revealing clothes. I pulled her shorts down and spanked her naked ass once on a picnic table bench while some of her 'good' friends watched. When we went to the tavern I'd make her go to the bar and bring me drinks. We were both under twenty-one, but that didn't matter. I'd make her sit on my lap while I played with her flat chest in front of everybody. I did it because I was mean. I did it because it used to make her cry. There was a time I almost went too far. I told her to go down for my friends. There were five of them that afternoon. She really cried, I mean really cried. She begged me not to make her suck off my friends. That's when I realized she really would do anything I said, so I changed my mind and didn't make her. I think that's when I started to change; at least I started to change about Angie. I started to believe that maybe there was somebody else, I mean somebody besides a crazy aunt, who might actually care about me. It was almost unimaginable that there could be another person on the planet who actually gave a rat's ass about whether I lived or died, but I sat there that afternoon and watched her cry and beg me not to make her suck off these other guys. She kept crying, and she kept pleading with me not to make her do it. That's when I thought maybe Angie did care about me. I mean it never occurred to her to just tell me to fuck off and go home. She really would do anything for me. The joke should have been on Angie. Damn, her cherry hadn't been the first I'd busted! No, the joke turned out to be on me! Like an asshole I fell in love with the squirt! Of course I was stupid; I married the little bitch. If falling in love had been my first mistake, then marrying her was my second. Remember this; first and foremost I was a loner, a lobo wolf. I wanted and needed no one. I had no real friends, and that was fine with me. But I was, and am, a farmer. There are times of the year when that means some pretty long hours, and as Uncle Mitchel and Uncle John aged I had to take over more and more of their responsibilities. Well poor Angie either couldn't or wouldn't wait around all day and night for her ever loving man to come home. I had no idea how fucked up she'd become. Little Angie needed her whiskey, and her smoke, and with that came her need for the big salami. If I wasn't home she didn't wait. There was a time there when during certain parts of the year, most notably the fall, I'd get home three or four o'clock in the morning after working machinery since the early morning and I'd get a phone call telling me my poor wife was asleep somewhere with vomit on her dress, booze in her stomach, and the semen from a half dozen men in her snatch. Look I knew I was a cuck, but it was mostly my fault. I'd taken this sweet innocent and totally fucked her up. Oh sure I had acquaintances who told me to drop the bitch; just get rid of her, throw her scrawny ass out. I told everyone I just couldn't do it. Every time I saw her I remembered the sweet innocent little girl I'd found and how I'd corrupted her. I can honestly say it's true; paybacks are a bitch. I tried my damnedest. I really tried, but there's a limit to how many times I could drag my drunken wife out of the tavern, how many times I could pick up my woman as she was lying asleep in her own puke on some other man's front lawn, or how many times I walked into the grocery or the feed store and hear the sniggering and the muffled jokes. I gave up. I talked it over with my aunts, and together we decided it was time for some serious changes. The first thing I did was to get my aunts, by then Mitchel and John were dead, to agree to sharecrop. I sold off the animals. I hated to do that. Then I dumped Angie. I drove her back to her parents and dropped her off, and I went off and joined the army. In short, I ran away. I didn't exactly completely run away. Everybody knew I'd be back, but what Maggie and Olive and I agreed was I needed a real dose of discipline. Sure I knew how to work hard, but I hadn't become a man. They agreed the army would either make me or break me. I drove off, leaving my two old maid aunts to tend the farm. I also left a sick little wife to suffer with her domineering hateful father and her overcompensating doting mother. I still didn't divorce Angie; I just couldn't do it. Call me stupid, call me a wimp; I guess I just had a touch of conscience. Imagine me with a guilty conscience. What a fucked up joke! I signed up for the army. I don't know what it's like now, but the draft hadn't been gone all that long and they still talked about four categories of enlisted men; there were the N.G.s, National Guard, E.R.s, Enlisted Reserves, U.S.s, draftees, and last the R.A.s, Regular Army. When I went in there were still a few incredibly old U.S.s around, all of them having reenlisted several times. I went in as Regular Army. When I went in we weren't at war with anybody; the First Iraq War had just ended, and our military was so primed it didn't look like anybody would ever try us. In fact everybody sort of figured we'd never get in any more wars; we were that damned good. I could have done almost anything I wanted in the Army. I tested out quite high; some of the Warrant Officers tried to get me to go to school for foreign languages. I didn't see much value Arabic would have on a farm; so I opted for the motor pool. I worked a farm and understood the need for a little common sense knowledge about how machinery worked. It didn't matter, what I learned in the Army didn't amount to too much. I already knew how to use a variety of firearms, and standing and working in the cold and the rain are things most farmers don't think about. The motor pool helped, I think it would have helped a lot more if we didn't have to put up with those little 'Goldie bars' running around acting like they were God's gift. Anyone who has ever been in knows who they are. I pulled my time; saw a lot of Georgia, Texas, Kentucky, and Missouri, but I never left the States. I worried about my aunts, and went home every chance I got. I sent money to Angie's parents; never to Angie. Angie's dad died, but that was later, and I was sort of glad of it. Once I took his daughter home he vowed to keep her away from me forever. That wasn't that big a deal since I was gone anyway, but what was good was he kept her in the house. Though her dad hated me, and with good reason, he really loved his girl, and he kept her on the reservation. This was important, because just about two months after I left for Fort Benning, where else, I got word Angie was pregnant. A couple months after that I got served. I'm sure her dad made her divorce me. I got the paperwork, signed it, and sent it back. I made a copy though and put it on the bulletin board for the other trainees to see. That turned out good since a couple boys got 'Dear John's' and my divorce papers sort of softened the blow for them. I figured it up and knew the baby was probably mine, but her father swore as long as he was alive I'd never see the kid. Damn if he didn't back what he said up too. While he was alive if I tried to see Angie or the baby when I was home on leave I was met at the door by her dad and her older brother. Still I had to hand it to the bastard; he kept Angie dry the whole time she was pregnant. The baby was born, it was girl, and they named her Emily. Without even seeing her I knew I'd love her; how could anyone not love a girl named Emily? ++++++++++ I got out of the army and went home: I got home and went right to work. Too bad, two months after I got back Aunt Olive died, and four months after that I lost Aunt Maggie. It was like they were waiting for me to get home before they left. So here I was with a nice big farm, a tidy nest egg, and my ex-wife who wouldn't come near me, in fact a woman I hadn't been able to see more than four times in three years, and a little toddler I'd never seen. I had no friends; only acquaintances, hired hands, and jealous relatives. I went to work. The Curse of the Scots Angie's father had died, lung cancer got him, and her mom ended up living alone. I felt good thinking about that bastard coughing up his lungs the last few weeks he was alive. Stupid Angie had been living off the small checks I had to send; well she had moved in part time with one of the nastiest stupidest drunks in the area. I say part time because Angie sort of drifted back and forth between her mom's and the asshole's. Still I thought she spent too much time living in the guy's rattrap leaky old farmhouse on the edge of the colored section of one of the small towns. That's where she lived with this lazy asshole and the girl who I knew was my baby. It was funny how I ended up knowing Emily was my baby? I caught up with Angie at the local I.G.A. store one day. She had Emily with her. Now my mother had a slight deviation in her left eye, a stance they called it. I'd seen it in her pictures. There were only four people I knew of who had that stance, my two older brothers, my older sister, and me. I took one look at Emily, and there it was. Even at three years old it was there. Emily was my kid. My kid was living with her, once again, promiscuous mother and this overbearing woman beating lazy shit-bird of a man. Angie knew she was mine too, but she denied it to everyone. I think most people knew Emily was my girl, but no one wanted to go up against Angie's live in boyfriend, his name was Bernard Keith. Bernard was this big dumb ex-convict who was so stupid he couldn't even shovel dirt. Bernard was a big bastard; a lot bigger than me. Shit when I was growing up, due to what I assumed was my dead mother's diminutive size, most of the older boys were able to beat the shit out of me. When they wanted to get into my shit they would call me 'that little Jew'. Well, too keep it short and sweet, I could out work most anybody in the county, but I sure couldn't out fight everybody. Oh I could hold my own, but old dumb shit Bernard was way too much for me. So stupid Bernard had my ex-wife; off and on I thought he could keep her, but honestly I still felt real guilty about how I'd treated her. I think I still must have had feelings for her. Who am I kidding; I still loved her. I don't think I would have remarried her, but I didn't want her getting beat up all the time or getting fucked by every drunk in town either. All her old friends had abandoned her, and her new friends weren't really friends. What especially gnawed at my craw was how asshole Bernard had my little girl too. I thought right after I came back from the army how if I had to remarry Angie to get my daughter I'd do it. Am I confused or what? I know I had to do something. Thank god for Angie's mom. She hated me, but she really loved Emily. Since I couldn't directly help little Emily, and Angie wouldn't let me near her, I managed to work out a deal with Angie's mom. If Angie needed clothes, a trip to the doctor's, or school stuff, or maybe a birthday party, or some Christmas presents, I could give the money to Angie's mom. She'd buy the stuff, and give it to Angie. To make sure Angie or Bernard didn't take the stuff and return it for money to buy booze or drugs Angie's mom would give me all the receipts, and she'd cut all the tags out of any clothes. If there was a party or something she'd buy the shit, but I'd get the receipts for that stuff too. In fact I bought Angie's mother an inexpensive camera. When Emily went out anyplace, or got a new dress Angie's mom took pictures. She kept the pictures, but I got the film so I could have my own pictures developed. I kept all this shit in an old sea chest that had belonged to Uncle Mitchell. I could never get near my daughter, but I knew I was helping her, and I had my own little treasure chest filled with clothes receipts, pictures, and even some locks of her hair. It wasn't much, but it was about all I'd get until she got old enough for someone to tell her the truth. If anyone ever saw her I know they'd fall fucking in love with her. She had this light sandy colored hair, big green eyes, and she was just a little chatter box. I got to see her a lot from a distance. I found out where they went to church and joined it. No one could keep me from doing that, and that way I got to see my daughter, and my ex-wife, almost every week. I also saw it as a way to keep in touch with Angie's mom so I could find out if they needed anything. Honestly, I didn't think Angie wanted to go to church anymore. Her mom and dad had really crammed it down her throat when she was a kid, but I think the Social Services were on her case. If she wanted to keep her daughter she had to at least pretend to be a good mom. I knew if Emily were with me I'd spoil the shit right out of her. I tell you I really loved her. Yeah, Angie was totally paying me back. I couldn't blame her though. ++++++++++ The whore was sick so I had to stop a little early. I had to stop earlier than I planned. I'd turned the heat up as high as it would go, but the whore kept shivering. I felt her forehead; that was about the only place where she wasn't hurt, and it was hot. I stopped at an all-night Walmart and bought some shit. I got some Nyquil and a big bottle of Advil. I walked all around and found some blankets. I got one of the soft fluffy kinds. I also got some baby receiving blankets, some paper towels, some rubbing alcohol, and a couple kinds of women's shampoos and soap. I got one of those soft scrubby things they say women use when they take a bath. I don't know why I bought this crap; she was only a whore, and an old one at that. I guess I was sort of thinking about Emily a little bit. The whore had green eyes, and they reminded me of my daughter. I know that sounds stupid. I got back to the truck and looked the whore over again. Yeah she had big green eyes! Her hair had been dyed dark brown, but not lately and I saw a few grey roots, but the rest looked a lot lighter. I bet she was at least thirty maybe forty years old. She didn't have a lot of wrinkles, but I could see the crow's feet pretty clearly. Other than the tattoos, and the cuts and bruises her skin looked pretty good. I went to work right there in the parking lot. I told her, "Sit up." She sat up. "I've got some Nyquil for you." I took the plastic cap, opened the bottle and poured her a dose. She took it without complaint. I handed her a receiving blanket, "Hold this." She took it without comment. She kept looking at me like she was waiting for something to happen. I made a rapid move with my right hand. She flinched back real fast. I figured it out; she was expecting me to hit her. I stopped and took out the big fluffy blanket, "Can you sit up a little. I want to wrap this around you." She gave me this really confused look, but sat up. I saw she really did have a pretty face, long eye lashes, and big round, did I say green, eyes, high cheek bones, kind of a tiny nose, and sort of a sweet mouth, actually a pretty heart shaped mouth. I bet she was a real looker once. Shit, I'd seen a hundred pigs like this one; fucked a few too. What did I care what she looked like? I wrapped the blanket under and around her the best I could. I handed her two throw pillows, "Here maybe these will make you a little more comfortable." I walked back around and got in my side of the truck. I had to say something, "Look I didn't mean to scare you a second ago. I'm not going to hit your or anything. I just wondered what you'd do. Now I know." She just lay there on her side and stared at me. I asked, "Your name is Caprice?" She only nodded. I asked, "That's your real name?" She actually answered that one, "I'm not sure. I mean I'm pretty sure. I don't remember." "How long have people been calling you Caprice?" "I don't know; a long time." I asked, "You have any questions for me?" She looked at me for what seemed like a long time, it wasn't really. Then she said, "You want me to do you?" Christ I thought, this is one fucked up bitch, "No I don't want you to do me. I don't do whores." I watched her; me calling her a whore didn't make a dent. I didn't think it would. I told her, "Look I'm going to take you home and clean you up. Then I'll decide what I want to do with you." All she did was sit there. Then she asked, "Can I go back to sleep now?" I answered, "Yeah sure." She looked at me, "If you want me to stay awake I will?" It occurred to me I was working with a fucking dog; a dog that could talk, "No I want you to go to sleep." She lay her head back down and closed her eyes. I watched her for a second or two. She opened her eyes a little to see what I was doing. I told her, "Go to sleep." She closed her eyes and pretty soon she was breathing about as evenly as anyone in her condition might. I drove the rest of the way home without thinking about anything except the traffic and what I needed to do when I got her home. I also needed to get in touch with Del. Del is my nephew, and the only member of my family I have any respect for. ++++++++++ I've got this nephew I trust named Del. Cayden always leaves me in charge of the farm while he's out gambling. He has other nieces and nephews, but he and I have worked out a pretty good relationship. My dad doesn't like Cayden; he says he shouldn't have gotten all his great grand-mom's farm. My dad says Cayden manipulated their Aunt Margaret into giving him everything. I know that's not true. I might still be just a kid in everybody else's eyes, but I saw who took care of those old people at the end. I never saw my dad, my other uncle or my aunt ever go to the farm to help out. It was only Cayden; I think he deserves the farm. He treats his workers good too, even the black guys; my dad wouldn't do that. A lot of the men around here pay their white employees by check. They keep written records for their white people, but then they pay their black workers in cash so they don't have to cover all the government costs like unemployment insurance and social security. They don't pay their black workers as much either. They say they do, but I know they don't. I feel kind of sorry for Uncle Cayden. He had a wife, but she divorced him, or at least a divorce was arranged. His ex-wife's name is Angie. I know her real well. She says she hates Uncle Cayden, but every time I see her she asks about him. She says she hates him, and whenever his name is mentioned around her she talks him down, but sometimes I think she tries too hard. I see things. She watches him when he's around. She doesn't watch him like he's somebody she hates. Cayden has a kid too; a pretty little girl named Emily. Angie won't let Cayden near her. Little Emily's going to be a looker when she grows up. Her mom's not much to look at, but I think Emily will be quite a cutie someday. I like Angie; I just don't think she's very pretty. Too bad about Angie; most people around here resent Cayden because he's always been sort of lucky so they try to get even by taking advantage of her. Angie's got her problems. I know Cayden would help her if she'd let him. To tell the truth I think she'd be pretty if somebody would help her, I mean take care of her. Angie's kind of the helpless type. ++++++++++ I finally get home from Pennsylvania. Me and the whore finally got home. I pulled down the long driveway to the house. I got out, walked to the front door, unlocked it and shoved it open. I went back to the truck, opened the passenger's side door and tapped the whore on the side of her face. She opened her eyes. Her first look, after her initial surprise, was again fear. Again my first thought was; what has she been put through to be so scared? I whispered so as not to further alarm her, "We're at my house." The whore leaned up and looked around. I could tell she was careful not to appear too curious. I reached under her and as carefully as I could and lifted her up. She felt light; much lighter than I anticipated. I told her, "Put your arms around my neck," she did. I carried her in the house. This was not a traditional farm house, but something a little different. The front door opened to a large foyer that led immediately to a spacious living room. The living room had a big picture window. I'd had that added some years back. If I turned to the right I'd be headed down a hall to two large bedrooms and a master bathroom. If I turned to the left I'd go into a large open dining room that adjoined an open kitchen. It was a big country kitchen. Immediately to my right was a wide stairway that led upstairs. Upstairs were two more bedrooms; each with its own small bathroom. The master bedroom was downstairs just to the right down and on the left side of the first floor hallway. Inside the master bedroom I'd had a large bathroom added that was equipped with a good sized shower and an even larger bathtub. It was to this master bedroom I carried the whore. Holding her as snugly as I could with my right hand I opened the bedroom door. I carried her in, and sat her down on the side of my king sized bed. I gently pulled the blanket I'd bought earlier away from her. She still had my blue shirt and boxer shorts on. "Let's get you undressed and in bed," I told her. I watched her. She didn't look at me. She just kept her eyes and head facing downward. If I was a pimp, who I'm not, that's how I'd expect her to behave. I got her out of my things, pulled the spread, the blanket, and top sheet off the bed down. I lifted her again to get her ass in the bed and as gently as I could I pushed her body back so her head was lying on one of the pillows. I pulled the top sheet, blanket and spread up to her neck. I felt her wince once or twice as I moved her; I guessed I wasn't as careful as I thought. I could see the cuts from her earlier beating, everywhere the belt tip hit it looked raw. She still looked confused, and still scared. I tried to calm her down a little, "Stay here and try to get back to sleep. I've got to check my phone messages. In a little while I'll be back. I want to get you cleaned up." I could tell the Nyquil was working in as far as it was keeping her sleepy, but she still felt hot to the touch. I wanted to say something to reassure her, "Now will you stay still until I get back?" She nodded. I added, "Tell me you'll stay in bed." She murmured, "I'll stay in bed." I gave her a wooden smile and said, "You won't try to run away?" She nodded. I told her, "Say it." She said, "No, I won't run away." "Promise?" She answered, "I promise." I smiled and got off the bed. I laughed to myself; imagine believing a whore's promises. I looked over again, "I won't be long." She already had her eyes closed. She reopened them, "I'll be good." I wondered what that might have meant. I mean a prostitute's promise to be good. What was she going to do give me a good blow job? Spread her legs just the way I liked? A whore's promise, shit. I left the bedroom. As I walked out I wondered what she was thinking. Hell, I wonder if she thought at all. ++++++++++ Caprice wonders; how did I get here? I'm here in this man's bed. I have no idea where I am. I don't even know what day it is; I'm not even sure of the month. Jesus I feel like I've been run over by a truck. My head feels even worse than my body. Since Vince purchased me right around Christmas, I think it was Christmas; it had to be Christmas because they made me wear some kind of red mini-dress with furry white cuffs at their first party. I remember all the men laughed when they ejaculated in my face and their semen spilled out all over the silky red fabric. I laughed too; I really hated it, but being a whore I'm supposed to like being degraded by a bunch of fat drunken old men. I should stop this; thinking or having an opinion isn't smart if you're a whore, and that's all I am, just a dirty whore. Chemically the only things Vince let me use was a little marijuana and a lot of Ecstasy. The man who'd sold me to Vince let me have cocaine, and the man before that had pumped me full of heroin. Gee I haven't had any cocaine or heroin in months; I still want it, but not as badly as at first. Oh I think about it all the time, I used to really crave it, but it's been surprising how easily I've been able to adjust to the Ecstasy. The cocaine is best though; the cocaine numbs the brain and you don't care so much what they do to you. I think if I got some cocaine I'd feel better. Vince had been giving me something else too, but I think it was more like valium or something. I remember he'd said I wasn't worth the cost of cocaine. This guy is starting out like all the others. They always start out the same; it's like they think they can get me to like them or something. They're all nice at first until they lay out the rules. I saw how he jerked his hand at me. He wanted to hit me. Some men, shit most men, like to hit women; especially women like me; women who can't fight back. The rules never change. I sort of remember my first; I think I do. He was so nice. I guess I must have loved him. I can't even remember his name now. He was handsome though. I think I was in college or some kind of school like that; it's been so long. So much has happened; I can hardly remember. I know I got mad at my parents and ran away. Who gives a damn anyway? I sure don't, not any more. This guy is handsome. Why do they all always look so good? Well no, Vince is ugly. Except for Vince, Vince Spyradakos, they all have the same soft eyes. This one has soft eyes, brown eyes. I know I'll hate him. They're all the same. Vince said he was going to kill me if I didn't get it right last night. I think it was last night. Well I'm with this guy now. I remember the plastic bag. I think I remember being sold again. I wonder where I am. I wonder who this new guy is. I wonder when he'll kill me. I kind of think this is the one Vince said got off on killing women. Vince said I wouldn't be around much longer. I'm so tired...I'm so fucking afraid. I'm tired of being so fucking afraid all the time. ++++++++++ I talk things over with Delbert. I left the bedroom, went to the big open kitchen and to the poker table in the corner; that's where I keep my laptop computer and a ground line telephone. I have a farm to run, partners to keep up with, and I have my daughter and my ex-wife to worry about. My oldest brother has a boy named Delbert, everybody calls him Del. Del is just about the only blood relative I like. Del likes me too. In fact Del runs the farm when I'm not around. Though he's only nineteen, I've got a lot faith in Del. He's a fine young man; a testament to the woman my brother married. I checked the computer; no messages, that was good, I checked the land line; that was almost only used by Del or by Angie's mother. Her name is Mrs. Bradford. Del had left a message. I listened, "Cayden, Del here. Saw Angie; she's got another black eye. Seems Bernard caught her at the Wagon Wheel. You might want to check her out." There was a message from Angie's mother. I figured it was probably about the same thing. I turned that one on too, "Cayden Bernard caught Angie with Brad Armstrong. He beat her up. Emily saw the whole thing. Angie and Emily are back with me right for now." I thought, fuck! I better call Del and see if he can't get over here for a while. I took my cell out and hit Del's number. Del's a good kid, he always answers if he's available, "Hello that you Cayden?" "Yeah, Del can you come over for a little while." "Sure, you going to check on your ex.?" "Got no choice." "OK, I've been busy, already did the chickens and mucked out the stables. Be right there." Well I thought, 'what a fucked up way to start a new week. I better get back and check on the whore.'