Summary: mind control, incest, Mf, minor ff
Mix a girl as pure as fortified whole milk with a boss as nasty as
maggot-riddled rancid flour, and what do you get? Well, I'm still not entirely
sure, but it's kind of fun finding out.
See No Evil: Contains sexually explicit and politically incorrect material. If you shouldn't be reading this, or if it might offend you, simply stop now.
Legalese: All actors and actresses are over the age of consent. Proof of age is on file. Any similarity of any character, event or place to any actual person, event or place, is purely coincidental. This is all fantasy, and the actors are all professionals -- do not try any of this at home.
Archiving: You are welcome to discreetly repost or archive this, just do not change it, steal from it or claim credit for it.
Author's Ramblings: I wanted to do a slow one. The sex doesn't really pick up until chapter 4 -- sorry, folks, not even a first chapter "hook" for you this time. Why would anyone write such a story? The higher you build 'em, the farther they can fall (although ... I'm not sure our heroine ever really falls in this story).
Live well!
You are now leaving the realm of the known and well-lighted and crossing over into a realm without stability, a world with only potential, a shadowy landscape with--
Oh, you get the picture. The chapter below is a draft chapter. It is subject to change, revision, rewrite or even total deletion (though drastic changes are unlikely). There may even be ungrammatical half-thoughts or notes included below. All this is still copyrighted by Jafar. These draft chapters are given as a courtesy so that those interested in this story can peek on where the author is currently thinking of taking it.
I hope you enjoy the draft(s) and the story as a whole.
A few moments later, the grandchildren preceded Mr Dicksteiffer with a great clap and roar.
The first child, a four year old boy wearing a white shirt, led the way, his index finger embedded deeply up his nostril. As he approached Bethany's desk, he pulled the finger out with a popping noise, then wiped it on the side of the desk.
The second child, an eight year old boy wearing a red shirt, barged in waving two toy rayguns and knocked the artificial flower off the stand by the door. "Oops," he said as he looked up from the broken pot.
The third child was a six year old girl, as thin a child as Bethany had ever seen, wearing a black shirt. She picked up a piece of lint off the carpet and popped it into her mouth.
The fourth child undulated in, floating on Ms Bosomheifer's large breasts, which formed sort of a soft flesh tray in front of her chest, upon which the child rode. It was a one year old girl wrapped in a pale blanket.
"Thank you SO MUCH, Bethany," Mr Dicksteiffer said as he brought up the rear. "We appreciate this SO much!"
"Ya!" said Ms Bosomheifer, who tilted her bosom axis to deposit the infant on Bethany's desk, then self-gripped under each boob and hefted like she was repositioning one very large military-grade bra underneath.
"If you can watch them, Bethany, we will be right out after the meeting. Thank you SO much!" He and his secretary backed away towards the conference room.
"So!" Bethany bubbled, "What are your names?"
"My name is Warren!" the boy in the red shirt said as he pointed his raygun at her and fired.
"Hi, Warren! And what's your name?" she asked the girl in the black shirt. The little girl just stared back at her, dark circles under her eyes.
"Her name's Fannie," Warren said, "But she's so dumb she says Fammy."
"I'm glad to meet you, Fannie."
Fannie quickly reached out, grabbed a rubber bar eraser off Bethany's desk and popped it in her mouth.
"Fannie, no, no, sweetie." She reached toward her mouth, but Fannie squealed past clamped lips. Bethany turned back to her desk and pulled some gumdrops out of the top right drawer and held them out. "I'll trade you sweetie. If you give me that yucky eraser, you can have these pretty gumdrops!"
Slowly, the girl spit out the eraser, then snatched the gumdrops and stuffed them all into her mouth.
"Don't those taste better?"
Fannie nodded silently.
She turned to the younger boy, who had his hand down the back of his pants, scratching and groping at his butt. "And what is your name?"
The boy pulled his hand out of his pants and held his index finger under his nose, smelling himself. "Paul," he finally said.
"We call him Pest," Warren said, pointing his raygun at his brother and shooting him with light and sound.
"And this little girl ..." Bethany checked that the infant was napping quietly.
"Her name is Dee Dee," Warren told her.
"But there's Death inside her ..." Fannie whispered.
"Oh, nonsense," Bethany said. "Why do you say that?"
"You'll see ...."
"Okay, gather round." She lifted Paul onto her desk, then reached into her bottom right drawer and tore off some bubble wrap. She held it up and popped a couple bubbles, capturing Paul's attention, then gave the sheet to him to play with. Then she pulled Fannie into her lap and handed her the bag of gumdrops. "You nibble on those, sweetie. You need to put on some weight."
Turning her attention to the oldest boy, she asked him, "Okay, Warren, show me how you'd attack the evil stormtroopers with your raygun." He did and she cooed appreciatively.
The children stayed busy with the things she'd given them for about ten minutes, then their attention started to drift.
"Okay!" Bethany said, clapping her hands. "Who can tell me what the Rapture is?"
"Rapture?" Warren frowned. Fannie just sat in her lap looking up at her with those tired eyes.
"It's when Jesus Christ comes back to earth. And he'll take all the good people with him to heaven!"
"We'll die?!" Fannie croaked.
"No. We won't HAVE to die!" Bethany smiled. "If He comes during your lifetime, you'll be able to just go up to heaven with Him. You won't HAVE to die. And you can sit up there with Jesus Christ and all those angels and wings and harps and halos and all that good stuff!"
"Wow ...." Warren said, pointing his raygun at the dead flower pot still on the floor and pulling the trigger.
Bethany looked down and saw that Fannie had emptied her bag of gumdrops. "Wow! You eat quick! Do you eat like that all the time?"
Fannie nodded.
"But you don't gain any weight?"
Fannie shook her head. Then she wrinkled her nose. "Uh-oh ... Death."
Bethany sniffed and ... wow! The other three children fled to the far side of the room, holding their noses. Bethany, clenching her breath, checked, then carefully removed Dee Dee's dirty diaper.
"Grampa says somethin' crawled up Dee Dee and died!" Fannie laughed through clenched nose.
"I see. That's why you said that earlier?" She turned her head to the side and gasped in a breath of air. Wow! Her eyes were watering. Perhaps Mr Dicksteiffer should have this baby checked out by a doctor!
Fannie was in the corner, nodding wide-eyed, watching the brave woman work.
After an hour, Mr Dicksteiffer and Ms Bosomheifer emerged from their meeting to find the children sitting raptly around Bethany as she told them the story of Daniel in the lion's den. The two stood quietly until she finished the story.
"Well, gang," Mr Dicksteiffer said finally, "It's time for us to go."
"Can we stay with Bethany the afternoon?" Warren asked, "And you can come get us then?"
"No. We have to go now. Gather your things."
"Ms Bosomheifer, Dee Dee made poo poo," Bethany told her, and the woman's eyes widened severely. "It's okay," Bethany giggled. "I cleaned and changed her for you." The large woman visibly relaxed.
Mr Dicksteiffer gathered them together, then started down the stairs. Fannie turned around and waved. "Bye bye, Beth'ny."
"Bye bye, Fannie. I'm glad I met you."
"Me too." Then she turned and followed the group.
(Wednedsay after work)
Bethany called her husband and told him that a couple of the girls at the office had asked her to stop by the Oasis for a few minutes after work and that she'd like to go to be sociable. He was okay with that and said he'd fix his own dinner.
After work, Bethany drove over, found herself a table and waited. The bar was already becoming crowded with folks stopping by after work.
"WOULD YOU LIKE SOMETHING TO DRINK?" a waitress yelled at her.
Bethany knew that you needed to keep a drink of some kind in your hand at these places, or the bartenders got insulted and rude. "A GLASS OF MILK!" she yelled back.
The waitress frowned. "WHAT?!"
"MILK!"
The waitress was shaking her head. "DON'T HAVE ANY!"
"WATER, THEN!"
The waitress shrugged and headed off.
As the minutes passed, two guys separately came over and shouted conversation openers at her. She shouted back each time that she was saving the seats at her table for her friends. Her water finally came, and she began sipping on that.
About twenty minutes later, she spotted Collette and Francesca. She waved at them, and they made their way over to her and took seats.
"GLAD YOU COULD COME, BETHANY!" Collette shouted at her.
"ME TOO!"
Then the three sort of sat around the table, nursing their drinks, not saying -- not shouting -- much.
Ten minutes later, Andy Rockwell, another coworker, walked by and shouted at Collette and Francesca, who yelled back. He took a seat beside Bethany.
"Ng ngld m kit," he said to her.
"HUNGH?"
"Ng ngld m kit!" he said a little louder.
"HUNGH?!"
"I'M GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT, BETHANY!" he bellowed in her ear.
"ME TOO!" she nodded.
Andy ordered a drink from the waitress, then the four of them sat around the table while the din went on around them for the next ten minutes. Andy's drink finally came, and Tina Klondike, another worker from the office, walked by. After shouted greetings, she took a seat. She was a blonde with sharp, angular features, but pretty.
The five sat around the table fifteen more minutes, sipping their drinks, watching the other people in the bar.
Finally, Bethany stood. "I NEED TO BE GOING! THANK YOU FOR INVITING ME!" she screamed.
"GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT!" the others screamed back and waved.
As Bethany made her way to the door, one man, partially drunk, grabbed her tush, and she slapped him, then she continued to the door and stepped outside, her ears still ringing.
What an ... interesting ... way to spend and hour. Sort of like being forced to eat a box of extremely dry crackers with a parched throat and no water and having to keep a tired smile on your face the whole time.
Strange pasttimes.