Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

A quick recap of the Story Thus Far: Rural paramedic Nettie Hastings finds herself in the middle of a flurry of unexplained overdose calls, and has begun putting clues together linking the source to her own hometown. She and her former lover, author Terry Wilder, suspect the involvement of police chief George Fronse, but have no proof to back it up. Meanwhile, she has finally consummated a burning desire for Terry’s preteen daughter.

After she and Terry work out the location of what they believe to be the drug dealers’ headquarters, they contact the police chief and a raid is hurriedly set up. But things go wrong right away — has a trap been set? In the fallout, Nettie’s father is killed.

For a more detailed breakdown of this story’s chapters, please consult the Chapter Links.

by Rachael Yukey

The glare of the overheads in the back of the ambulance was blinding after the overcast skies outside. I squinted as my ass hit the bench seat, and Samantha Jensen’s supine form came into focus. Her eyes were open, and she cast her gaze around wildly. “Samantha,” I said to her. She looked in my direction, eyes heavy and unseeing. Then she dropped her head to the pillow, closed her eyes, and moaned. There was soot around the edges of her mouth. Jessie was trying to hold pressure on the big abdominal dressing, which by now was completely red.

“Let go of it,” I told her. “You’re not gonna stop the bleeding. Change your gloves and get a neb mask on her with some albuterol; it’ll buy us a few minutes while I get ready for a tube. Then get me some vitals.”

The rig pulled out, jouncing badly on the rough terrain. Jessie let go of the dressing. Pulling it back, I ignored Sam’s yelp, examining the ugly laceration across her lower left quadrant. Blood pooled around protruding intestines. Setting the dressing back in place, I stripped off my blood-smeared gloves and tossed them to the floor. I had new ones on in seconds, and began hastily laying out IV supplies.

Jessie had the nebulizer in place and running, and was getting vitals like I’d asked. But when she started pulling the ECG cables from the monitor saddlebag, I had to resist the urge to smack her fingers.

“To hell with the four-lead,” I snapped. “Get a fresh dressing to put on the wound, but get it wet before you apply it. Just cut open a bag of saline and douse the damn thing. I need to get this IV started.” I thought it better not to tell Jessie that if I didn’t get a line and damn fast, this was all going to be for nothing. The niceties had to go out the window.

Jessie pulled a new dressing out of an overhead cabinet. I found a good spot for the IV almost right away, but held off for the sixty extra seconds it took Stacy to pull us out of the woods and onto the comparatively smooth gravel road, using the time to squirt medication into a bag of saline.

“Sam,” I said as I filled syringes, “can you hear me?” She shook her head violently from side to side, eyes squeezed shut. “We’re taking care of you, sweetheart,” I told her. “I know it hurts. Try to relax as much as you can.”

I got the IV on the first try, and hung the bag with the clotting agent. In my peripheral vision I could see Jessie cutting away the girl’s garments, rapidly inspecting for additional injuries. I turned my attention to the head, considering the layer of soot around the lips. Getting out my penlight, I moved the neb mask to one side and peered into her mouth, feeling my jaw tighten at the first signs of inflammation in her airway. Smoke inhalation for sure. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

I knew I was going to have to intubate her before her pipes closed altogether, but I stole a second to peel back an eyelid and shine my light on a pupil. Sam started, blinked, and looked up. With obvious effort, she focused in on me.

“I think the bleeding is slowing down a little,” Jessie said. I glanced over, and noticed that while the bottom of the new dressing was saturated in red ooze, the upper portion looked clean.

“Beautiful,” I said, turning my eyes back to Sam, who was still staring at me. Unzipping the ALS bag, I began extracting the items I would need for the tube. The whole time I was uncomfortably aware of Sam Jensen’s gaze.

Finally she spoke. “You’re… Nettie Hastings?” Even muffled by the mask, it sounded like the voice of a throat cancer patient with a two pack a day habit, and was followed by a dry, hacking cough. I could just barely make out what she was saying.

“Yeah,” I said. I got into the narc safe and pulled out the little box of magic contained therein. I briefly debated going for a second IV; I dislike sedating and paralyzing someone for intubation without a backup line. I dismissed the notion; time was not on our side.

“Mom says you t-took me to the hospital when I got sick,” the raspy voice informed me.

“That was me,” I said, putting as much cheer in my voice as possible. I busied myself drawing up the meds for the procedure. By this time Jessie had divested the girl of her garments and placed blankets over her private areas.

“What were you doing at the meat locker, Sam?” I inquired.

“Was I at the locker?” I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t remember. Sam and the other kids had clearly been under the influence of a sedative of some kind, and many of the common varieties burn away the memory of whatever was happening right before and right after the dose.

“Tell me about the locker, Sam.”

“I’m… not s’posed to… it’s a secret.”

“I can keep a secret.” I laid my labeled syringes down for a second, deciding to go for that second IV after all. So long as she was able to talk, I had time, and maybe there was a chance to find out what was going on.

“We p-party there.” The voice was low, the eyes distant. “We… we… good times. The best shit’s there. All of it. We get the good shit.”

“Who do you get it from? I might want some.” I slid the second IV catheter in, with no noticeable reaction from Sam. I’d probably gotten as much information out of her as I was going to.

Sam tried to speak, failed, and coughed. Interview over, I decided, and attached the syringe of sedative to the IV port.

But then her eyes popped open again. “Shutting it down,” she croaked. “Shutting… they’re shutting it down. Need to get… they said we’d g-get… don’t want withdrawal again. I need…” Her face contorted in agony.

“Withdrawal?” I said, sitting up straight.

“Yeah… like when you took me… hospital. Withdrawal…” She began to cough again, but it came out as dry wheezes. No more time.

“You’re going to sleep, Sam,” I told her as I was pushing the sedative. “I need to put you to sleep so I can help you. You’ll wake up in a couple of days.” So rapidly did the drug take hold that I’m not sure if she heard me or not. I waited sixty seconds, then flicked an eyelid  and got no response. I pushed the paralytic, and watched Sam Jensen’s breathing slow, then stop.

“Ready with the bougie,” I said to Jessie. I slipped my laryngoscope into the mouth and swept the tongue aside. A bead of sweat trickled down my nose; I ignored it. The edema was starting to get bad, but I could still see everything clearly. The airway was inflamed, but not ashy or particularly discolored, and I had some hope that it hadn’t gone deeper to do significant damage to the alveoli.

“Bougie,” I said. Just as Jessie slid a long blue stick of plastic into the mouth the truck hit a pothole, very nearly robbing me of my precious view of the trachea. I hissed, “Fuck!” took a moment to steady myself, then took the blue plastic stick from Jessie’s hand, easing it down and in.

“Tube me,” I commanded. Jessie slipped the endotracheal tube over the bougie, and I took it from her, sliding it in deeper and watching as it slipped between the vocal cords, then inflating the cuff.

“Bag,” I said. Jessie hooked the bulbous bag valve mask to the end of the tube and squeezed. I watched the chest rise. “Nice,” I exulted.

But the self-satisfaction that always comes in the wake of a successful field tube was short-lived. The memory of my father’s waxy, gray visage blurred my vision, and I pushed it aside with a herculean effort.

I secured the tube, then listened to the lungs to ensure we were getting air on both sides. I glanced at the monitor; vitals looked good. The dressing still draped across the abdomen didn’t appear to be absorbing any more blood. There was a reasonable chance that Sam’s luck would hold out once again.

***

“We weren’t even really that close,” I said numbly. I was on Terry’s love seat, legs drawn up, Halee seated next to me with her arm around my shoulders. My hair was still wet from the shower, and I held a drink in trembling hands. “I mean… after he split up with my mom, I always felt like he was more interested in his business than he was in me. I don’t know, Terry, I…” I broke off, fighting back tears.

There’d been a lot to cry about that day. Two firefighters had died, with three more still in critical condition. Two of the teens who were still in the building at the time of the explosion were also critical. The rest of them were fine; turns out they’d been under the influence of an ordinary sedative, not whatever wild shit had been plaguing the Bronning area of late.

I’d delivered Sam Jensen to Pinewood hospital in Johnstown, still alive and reasonably stable. Thormleton Ambulance had brought in three other patients from the meat locker scene while we were still at the hospital, one about as badly off as Sam, and two non-critical cases in a single truck. Terry had done a masterful job of resource allocation, distributing the patients so that no hospital emergency department or ambulance service was pushed too far beyond its limits.

There had been a bunch of officers at the hospital, along with two men in black suits who were clearly in authority over the cops. Terry told me later that a number of black-suited men and women in a black Suburban had appeared in the valley shortly after the last patient had been shipped off, politely but firmly taking charge of the scene. Thus far there was radio silence; we had been given no information regarding the cause of the explosion, or what else might have been found in the old brick building. The only real news was that all seven kids, injured or otherwise, were being held overnight for observation at the hospitals where they’d been taken, apparently on the insistence of the black suits.

“How’s your mom taking it?” Terry asked gently. I shook myself out of my reverie.

Terry had been waiting at the station upon my return. He shepherded me into his car and drove me back to his place. I didn’t have it in me to argue. He’d already farmed out his three youngest to a babysitter for the night. Now he was sitting in his recliner, drink in hand. If he suspected that Halee snuggling with me was anything more than an attempt at comfort, he didn’t say so.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She’d heard about it by the time I talked to her, and she was already putting a brave face on it. Or maybe she really doesn’t give a shit. They’ve been divorced for seventeen years, you know.”

I tossed my drink back in a single gulp. “Got any more where that came from?”

Terry regarded me sidelong, opened his mouth as if to speak, then rose from his chair. He plucked the glass from my hand, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned a moment later with a refill. I gave him what I hoped was a grateful little smile, and put away half the glass in one go.

Terry took only one step towards his recliner, halting in midstride at a sharp rap on the front door. Halee’s dog Lanie uncurled herself from her lap and hit the floor at a dead run, yipping obnoxiously as she made a beeline down the hall towards the foyer.

“Who the fuck…?” Terry muttered, following the dog at a more sedate pace. I heard the door open, then a moment’s silence.

“George,” Terry finally said. “Can I help you? This isn’t a great time.”

George Fronse gave a reply I couldn’t quite catch, and moments later the two men appeared in the hallway, George following close behind Terry. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and looked as if he’d just gotten out of the shower.

“Nettie,” George said as he strode into the living room, “I don’t even know how to start telling you how sorry I am. I knew your dad for a long, long time.”

“Thanks, George,” I managed.

Terry waved vaguely in the direction of the couch. “Have a seat, George,” he said. “Can I offer you a drink?”

George shook his head. “No, I’d better…” The words seemed to stick in his throat. “What have you got?” he said at last.

Terry blinked, but that was his only outward reaction. It would have gone unnoticed by anyone who didn’t know him well. “We’re enjoying a scotch that stands an above-average chance of changing your religion,” he said. “I also have some very good bourbon and rye, a decent spiced rum, or vodka and plain rum with appropriate mixers if you suffer from a delicate palate.”

“What do you have to mix? I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble…”

“I could make you a screwdriver easily enough.”

“That’ll work. Thank you, Terry.” George sat, and Terry disappeared into the kitchen. An awkward silence fell, broken only by the sounds of ice and gurgling liquid from the kitchen. George made a point of examining his hands. Halee’s arm tightened around my shoulders, and I pulled her close.

Terry returned a moment later, pressing a drink into George Fronse’s hand. George took a sip, nodded approval, then took another. He cast his eyes back and forth across the room, between the recliner and the love seat. Finally his eyes settled on Halee.

“It might be better for this to be an adults-only conversation,” he said.

Terry opened his mouth, then closed it again. His eyes turned to his daughter, then back to George. “She stays for the moment,” he said.

George shrugged. “I’ll come right to the point, then. I covered for the two of you today. I told the DEA people that we went to that valley based on an anonymous tip. I did it out of respect for you, Nettie, but it puts my butt in a major bind if anyone finds out. I want to know what the hell’s going on, and how you knew where to go.”

He fixed his eyes on Terry, his expression suddenly hard. “And I especially want to know what your part is in all this. If I don’t get answers I like, you and me are going to have a major problem, and I promise you won’t like the way it ends.”

Terry met his gaze, unflinching. “I get it,” he said. “You figure all you have to do is tell the Feds that I had information no one else had access to, they’ll do some digging and find me guilty as hell, and you get the satisfaction of seeing me clapped in irons. I don’t know in what way I pissed in your Cheerios when I moved to town, but I’m officially through trying to get on your good side. Go fuck yourself, George.”

Halee stirred uncomfortably at my side, and I stole a glance at her. She was staring at her father. I looked back over at George, who was gazing steadily back into Terry’s furious eyes.

“I’ve probably deserved that,” he said. “But not this time. In case you weren’t listening, I covered for you today, Terry. I did it mostly for Nettie, but if I hadn’t, you’d have federal agents in here right this minute crawling up your ass with a microscope. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here for the moment, but that has to end if you can’t tell me something that makes sense.”

Terry settled back, the hardness fading from his face. “Fair enough,” said after a moment’s thought. “but it has to be tit for tat, even taking into account your unfortunate lack of tits.”

Maybe it was just the stress of the preceding twelve hours or so, but even George cracked up a little at that. “Meaning?” he said.

“Meaning,” said Terry, “that you’re not the only one here who’s harbored suspicions. You’ve been acting just plain fucking weird ever since Jason Bixley face-planted that dump truck. Did you actually think Nettie and I didn’t notice how you just randomly appeared on calls you ordinarily wouldn’t have bothered responding to? Or how about that bullshit you fed Nettie about not being able to authorize access to the Bixley autopsy? You talk to us, and we’ll talk to you.”

George sipped his drink, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. He looked at me, then Terry, and at length began to speak.

“You probably know I’m part of the narcotics task force in this part of the state,” he said at last. “Just a bunch of city, state, and county cops that coordinate to try and chase down traffickers. There’s a big bust every year or so, but to be honest we don’t even really make a dent in the supply. We have a DEA contact who gets in touch with us once in a while, but mostly we’re on our own.

“Anyway, we received information from our DEA lady a few weeks back that people associated with some major cartels might be operating in our county, and to be extra vigilant for suspicious activity. Also to keep anything unusual under wraps as much as possible until DEA agents had a chance to look at the evidence.”

He looked at me apologetically. “That’s why I tried to keep the autopsy report away from you, Nettie. I guess if you wanted it badly enough, you probably got it through other channels, anyway.”

“Yeah,” I said, “I saw it. I suppose you already know that Sam Jensen had the same stuff in her system that Jason did. You wanna tell me what that shit is?”

“I wish I knew,” George said. “I’d like to say that our DEA contact is holding out on us, but I have an idea she doesn’t really know, either.”

Terry waved a hand towards George’s empty glass. “Another one, George?” he inquired.

“Sure, why the hell not?” said George. “Wes is hurt, so I’m the only city cop left, but after today I don’t really care. If anything happens tonight, I don’t think anyone will fault me if I just call in a mutual aid from the county.”

Terry fetched him another drink, while another silent pallor descended on the room. After he’d returned, handed over the glass and resumed his seat, George straightened from his slouch and fixed Terry with a steady gaze.

“Your turn,” said George. “How did you know where to look today?”

Terry fixed his gaze upon the ceiling, lips pursed. Finally he appeared to come to a decision. Halee,” he said at last, “tell the chief everything you’ve told us.”

She began, haltingly at first, then with an increasing confidence. By the time she was done, it was evident that the only thing standing between Halee and her father’s multisyllabic verbosity was time.

George was nodding slowly, almost to himself, as she finished. “I want to say I wish you’d come to me with that, Terry” he said at last, “but I understand why you didn’t, and to be honest I don’t think I’d have made the connection, either.”

He fixed his gaze directly on Halee. “You saved some lives today, young lady.”

I felt her tense in my arms. “If I’d just stayed in school,” she said bitterly, “Nettie’s dad would still be alive.”

George nodded. ”That’s possible,” he said, “but think about the numbers. Two people died today. If you hadn’t acted, we’d have lost all seven of the kids who were in that room. It wasn’t the only factor, either. I ran the operation by the numbers; slow and careful. It was textbook, and I’m going to come out smelling like a rose on paper. But if I’d moved faster, maybe we’d have got everyone out before the place went up. We can’t predict these things; we just have to do the best we can with the information we have. You did the right thing. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Terry was looking at George with something like wonder. He turned his eyes to his daughter. “Consider the old soldier’s axiom that no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy,” he said. “Events of this nature are impossible to predict. We asked you to sound the alarm, and you did. Nothing else could have been expected of you, kiddo.”

Halee said nothing. I knew that she was going to have to work this out in her own way, and just hoped I could find a way to help her with that.

“What caused the explosion, George?” I inquired.

“The feds probably know,” he said. “I sure don’t. They’ve got the whole scene locked down, and aren’t talking about anything they find. There were a whole slew of pressure tanks in there for various types of gasses, and who knows what the hell was under that tarp or in the crates? I don’t know when or if we’re going to get access to the facility, or any information.”

“Have the kids who didn’t get hurt said anything?’ said Terry. “Or don’t you know?”

“I managed to talk to a couple of them before the feds took over,” said George. “They were just coming out from under some kind of narcotic and were pretty damn groggy, but what I was able to get was that the place has been a sort of party spot for the past month or so, with some really good drugs. The kids said there were some adults there kind of running the show, but it wasn’t anybody they knew from before. They had some names, but they struck me as fake ones. They had names for the drugs too, stuff like ‘frizzies,’ and ‘carbon boosters.’ Nothing I’ve ever heard of.”

“I talked to Sam Jensen a little before I tubed her,” I put in. George raised his eyebrows.

“She said some of the same things,” I said, “except for the names. And she said something about the place shutting down, and wanting to get some stuff before she went into withdrawal.”

Terry sat forward, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t gotten around to telling him, either. “Withdrawal?” he said. “You haven’t mentioned that.”

I met his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What with Dad and everything, I almost forgot about it. She talked about withdrawals, and specifically referenced the time I took her to the hospital last weekend.”

Terry shifted in his seat. “So maybe she wasn’t actually high, but going through withdrawal? How likely do you think that is?”

“It’s possible,” I replied. Despite the grief and the booze, the clinician in me was starting to take over, and I welcomed the respite. “Withdrawal manifests in all kinds of ways. Look at heroin; overdose is deadly, but the withdrawal won’t kill you. It just makes you so sick you wish you were dead. But alcohol withdrawal is dangerous as hell. The DTs can spark a cardiac arrest. If I see that, I’m pushing Versed faster than you can blink. So yeah… I thought she was high on something, you did too, but it could have been some really ugly withdrawal symptoms.”

“So… the same shit could conceivably happen to them all over again. Maybe we should make some phone calls.” Terry was already stabbing at his phone.

I dismissed this with a wave of my hand. “Everyone’s getting held for observation,” I reminded him. “They’re all in hospitals. If we hear tomorrow that kids are being sent home, we can deal with it then.”

George looked from me to Terry, who was reluctantly lowering his phone. “It probably doesn’t matter,” he said. “The investigation is out of my hands, and whoever was behind it is probably on another continent by now. I’m guessing the DEA people are going to be talking to you, Nettie, along with anyone else who transported one of the kids. Make sure you tell them everything Sam Jensen said to you; it might matter. I don’t like the way they cut me and the county people out, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give them whatever information they need to go after these bastards.”

“As long as we can keep Halee’s name out of it,” Terry said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Fair enough,” said George. He stood. “I should go,” he said. “Nettie, I’m more sorry than I can say.”

I nodded numbly. Terry rose to his feet, beckoning George in the direction of the hallway. Moments later, I heard their voices from the foyer.

“Terry,” George was saying, “I don’t know that you and I are ever going to see eye-to-eye. But maybe we can declare a truce until this is over?”

“George,” I heard Terry reply in a weary voice, “if there’s any conflict here, it’s always been one-sided. I don’t have a problem with you. All that’s needed is for you to back the fuck off.”

There was a long silence. “I’ll do my best,” George said at last. The door opened, then closed again. Halee wrapped her arms around me and squeezed, sapping any restraint I had left. By the time Terry returned to the living room, I was weeping into her shoulder.

***

I ended up in Terry’s guest room for the night. I made a token effort to go home, but both Halee and Terry insisted otherwise, and I was simply in no condition to resist. As I lay back on the bed, I reflected that Terry and I both have dominating alpha personalities, and it’s probably the biggest source of friction between us. Halee was clearly developing the same characteristic, and I wondered what that would mean in the long term. Probably, I thought with wry amusement, she’ll end up hating both me AND her dad.

Then the door cracked open, and Halee was framed in the light from the downstairs hallway. She was wearing a yellow nightgown that came to her knees. Closing the door behind her, she crossed to the bed, sat, and took my hand in hers.

“Do you want company?” she asked simply. There was maturity beyond her years in the voice. “I’ll sleep in here with you if you want, or go away if you want to be alone.”

I slid over to one side of the bed and lifted the comforter. Halee slipped in next to me and snuggled up. I wrapped an arm around her.

“Think your dad will be okay with this?” I inquired in a whisper.

“I told him I was coming to check on you, and I might sleep in here with you if you wanted it,” she replied, also sotto voce. “He just sees it as two girls sleeping in the same bed, y’know?”

I leaned in and kissed her, my lips parted slightly. She opened her mouth a little, but made no other moves. I slipped my tongue inside. She teased the tip with hers for a moment, then pulled away.

“We shouldn’t,” she said.

“Because your dad’s in the house?” I asked. “We’d hear him on the stairs long before he got to us, and anyway I doubt he’d just barge in.”

“Well, there’s that,” she said, “but I didn’t think you’d really want to, after… you know…”

I kissed her again, this time more fervently. After a moment’s hesitation, she kissed me back with equal ardor.

“I don’t know how much I’m up to,” I told her, “but I need something. Make me forget the world exists, Halee.”

She was kissing my neck, gently, with love rather than passion. All the same, the heat was rising in me, and I felt myself getting wet. I took her hand and guided it downwards, stuffing it under the waistband of the sweat pants I was wearing. Understanding what I was asking for, she slipped her fingers beneath the elastic of my panties. Softly she caressed my mound, then went deeper, moistening her fingers on my slippery hole before starting a slow circular motion on my clit.

My response was immediate and I gasped for air, rocking my hips against her hand. She picked up the pace a little, and our mouths came together once more. When she pulled away, I registered through the waves of pleasure that her own breathing was ragged and strained. I slipped a hand up her leg and towards her center, only to find Halee’s hand already there and at work. I looked into her eyes, and she smiled even as a gasp of pleasure escaped her lips.

“You just relax,” she whispered with a sly grin. “I’m doing everything tonight.”

I gave in, burying my face in her shoulder. The waves were coming closer together, and with a greater intensity. With my head pressed to Halee’s chest, I could feel her shuddering response, and hear the hitch and tear of her breathing. I fed off of the sexual energy pulsating from this exquisite creature, just barely on the cusp of adolescence, and no more than a minute later I felt the inexorable birth of my climax. I bucked against her hand, pressing my lips together to stifle the cries.

Halee’s fingers slowed, delicately caressing my outer lips, but I could feel her other arm working furiously as she drove herself to ecstasy. As she fell off the edge of the cliff she twisted her head, burying her face deep in the pillow. I wrapped both arms around her and squeezed tightly as her body convulsed. Then we lay in each other’s arms, caressing and kissing. That’s the last thing I remember before merciful sleep overtook me.

On to Chapter Twelve!

Note from JetBoy: This story is pure fantasy — not just in its portrayal of mother-daughter sex, but in its depiction of of a severe head injury. In nearly every case, an accident of this severity would have complications and consequences beyond those described here. It’s not meant to be true to life, and should not be interpreted as such. I like to think of it as an erotic fable, one about a disabled girl’s quest for love and happiness.

by Karin Halle

When Jolie was eight years old, she was badly injured in a vehicular accident. Two cars collided; one left the road and crashed into a bus shelter where Jolie was seated. The shelter collapsed, trapping the girl inside. It took three hours for firefighters to extricate her from the debris.

As a result, Jolie was in a medically induced coma for four days. And though most of her physical injuries did gradually heal, she’d sustained a blow to the head that turned out to be a far more serious matter. Once she became conscious, subsequent tests would reveal that her intellectual development had been stunted by the accident. For the remainder of her life, Jolie would possess the mental capacity of a child of eight.

Otherwise, Jolie was a healthy and happy girl. Her mother Dana was the one who was obliged to cope with their new reality. There had been a substantial compensation claim for Jolie’s benefit, and Dana had been entitled to a claim of her own. These ensured that mother and daughter could live comfortably without Dana having to work. This meant that she could educate Jolie herself, rather than send the girl to a special school.

It wasn’t easy, but Dana obtained the materials she needed to teach a child of Jolie’s age, and a year beyond that. She threw herself into the task, and within a month mother and daughter were settled into a regular homeschooling routine. Before her accident, Jolie had been a bright child… and thankfully, she still was, even though she would never develop much further than that.

***

When Jolie was fourteen years old, a new complication arose. One day, Dana was organising some papers when her daughter entered the room, a frown marring her pretty face. She said, “Mummy, I feel funny.”

As all mothers do, Dana asked her child what the trouble was, but Jolie wasn’t able to put the right words to her experience. Again, she said, “It feels funny.”

Patiently putting her papers into two stacks, one for sorted and one for unsorted, Dana asked, “Well, where do you feel funny, pumpkin?”

Jolie told her, “My kitty,” placing a hand between her legs for emphasis.

Dana had known for years that an issue of this type was sure to arise. Her daughter knew where babies came from, and that sex was a pleasurable activity for grownups to enjoy… but Dana hadn’t taken the conversation any further, had never explained to Jolie that she would develop sexual feelings of her own. That, she had decided, can wait until another day.

Apparently, that day had arrived.

She tried to start the discussion with a feeling Jolie could relate to. “You know how when you’re hungry and you have something to eat, you aren’t hungry anymore?”

The girl nodded.

“And when you’re thirsty, you have a drink, and the thirst goes away.”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“And if you have an itch, you scratch it, and that usually makes it better.”

Jolie’s expression was somewhat doubtful, as if she suspected that Mummy wasn’t answering her question at all. Dana soldiered on.

“What you’re feeling inside has to do with sex, pumpkin.”

That really perplexed her. “But why, Mummy? Does that mean I’m going to have a baby? Sex makes babies happen, right?”

“No, no,” Dana hastened to say. “Well, it does, but not this time. Don’t forget, sex is for other things besides making babies. It also feels good. Well, people get hungry for that good feeling, and it makes them want to have sex. And now that you’re growing up, you’ll be getting hungry in the same way. That’s what’s happening to you now.”

“And that means… I need to have sex?”

Suddenly Dana felt as if she had two heads, and that they were banging against each other. No matter; she needed to find some way to explain this. “Not exactly. I mean, you may be feeling that hunger… but there are lots of times in life where you just aren’t able to have sex. What if no one else is there? What would you do then?”

Jolie thought about it. “Um, I dunno. What?”

So innocent, Dana thought. “You touch your kitty, and make the good feeling happen for yourself.”

Frowning, Jolie said, “Touch my kitty? Why? The feeling isn’t there, Mummy. It’s inside.”

“Just try it, honey… when you do, you’ll understand.”

“But… how, Mummy?” Jolie was becoming upset. “I don’t know what to do!”

Dana had no idea how to respond. How do I get her to understand this? She couldn’t even think straight – this situation was beyond anything she’d encountered. Can a girl with a mental age of eight be taught to give herself orgasms? What words do you use to convey the idea of sexual release?

Not knowing what else to do, Dana took her daughter’s hand. “Come with me,” she said, then led Jolie to her bedroom, where they sat down together at the foot of the bed.

“Take your shorts and underpants off for me, okay?”

Jolie was still confused, but she did understand that Mommy was doing her best to help. She stood up and slipped out of her shorts, pushing her panties down at the same time. Now nude from the waist down, she stood before her mother.

Taking a deep breath, Dana began. “You remember how I told you about your vagina, right? The inside of your kitty?”

Jolie furrowed her brow. “I – I’m not sure…”

“It’s that opening down there, pumpkin – the hole where you pee from, and where blood comes out when you have your period!”

“Oh, yeah, now I remember!”

“Very good. Well, if you touch down there, I bet you’ll find that you’re wet.”

“I haven’t wet myself, Mummy,” Jolie indignantly replied. “Really, I haven’t!”

But when she actually did touch between her thighs, there was wetness… then she recalled having felt that same wetness in her underpants.

“No, no!” Jolie began to cry. “I’m sorry, Mummy,” she whimpered, lowering her head in shame. She’d peed herself, just like a little kid! “I d-didn’t mean to…”

Dana was becoming frantic. Struggling to maintain her calm, she assured her daughter, “No, no, Jolie. That isn’t what happened. Listen to me.” She took Jolie in her arms, guiding the girl into her lap.

“Pumpkin, you didn’t wet yourself,” she said, resting her hand on Jolie’s tummy. Without giving it too much thought, Dana lightly touched her daughter’s vulva. Sure enough, it was moist. “It’s not wee. It’s… it’s a special liquid that comes from you when that hunger comes. You use it to make yourself feel good when… here, I’ll show you.”

Coating a finger with dew, she slowly ran the tip of it up through the girl’s slit. Jolie immediately stopped sobbing and sat bolt upright. Her eyes slowly drifted shut, and she gave a blissful sigh.

Part of Dana was reminding her that a special place in hell was reserved for mothers who sexually molested their daughters. But another part was saying, Mummies make their daughters’ hurts go away. Your child needs this. It’s compassionate, not sexual.

Dana dipped her finger into Jolie again for more of her honey. It wasn’t really necessary, but for some reason she did it anyway. My God, she really is aroused. Did I get this wet when I was her age? She used her index finger to retrace the path through the cleft of Jolie’s pussy, noting how her daughter shivered deliciously with each stroke.

“See, this is all you have to do. Okay, you try it now.”

Jolie gave her head an emphatic shake. “No, Mummy. You. It feels good. It feels really, really, really good!”

With a silent prayer of God forgive me, Dana began to masturbate her daughter for real. She was no longer simply teaching the girl, but giving her relief.

There was something else, too.

Dana had divorced Jolie’s father when the girl was five, fed up with his numerous infidelities. The split had been an ugly one, leaving her fed up with men in general. After that, she had little interest in getting into another relationship, and then came Jolie’s accident.

From that day on, her time had been consumed with caring for her daughter. The amount of effort required was intense. Dana dedicated herself to looking after her precious Jolie, and chose to do it on her own. The girl’s situation left her unable to interact well with kids her own age – to them she was a child in every way but physically. On the other hand, kids of the same intellectual age were often uncomfortable around a girl who was so much older than they were.

And during all that time, nobody had been there to look after Dana. Except for Jolie, she was on her own at thirty-six. Her parents were both gone; her only sibling was a brother who had succumbed to a heroin overdose. As for Jolie’s father, she wanted nothing more to do with him.

All Dana and Jolie had in this world was each other. And usually, it was all they needed.

Most evenings, Dana simply collapsed into bed after settling Jolie down for the night. Tending to the child wasn’t physically demanding, but the emotional effort was often considerable.

Now, as she masturbated her daughter, Dana tried to recall the last time she’d done that for herself, and realised that she had no idea.

Dana felt an unexpected but incredibly powerful urge. Taking her hand away from Jolie’s sex, she gazed at the half-naked girl, seeing her daughter in a whole new way.

Jolie reacted at once, sitting up. “Aw, Mummy… why’d you stop? Please don’t – touch me more!”

Dana began to open her blouse. “Get undressed, pumpkin. Everything off.”

Jolie had no idea what this new game was, but she was happy to continue. She shrugged out of her t-shirt, then sat down and slipped off her socks. Now she was completely nude.

Her top and jeans now on the floor, Dana took off her bra and panties, then took a moment to appraise the lovely fourteen-year-old in front of her.

It had been a while since she’d last seen Jolie naked, and even then she’d never looked at her like this – as a lovely, desirable young woman.

Her daughter had ripened deliciously. She was tall for her age, with curves that most girls of that age could only wish for. Her breasts were upright and shapely, capped with pert, rosy nipples. She had long, slender legs and a flat belly. Her mound was adorned with a light patch of wheat-hued pubes, sparse enough for the crease of her slit to show.

Why didn’t I notice before? I knew she was pretty as a picture, but somehow she became sexy, too. “Oh, pumpkin… you’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

Jolie blushed, hotly, but was clearly pleased. “You are too, Mummy,” she said, looking Dana up and down.

Dana was still in good shape. She wasn’t carrying much excess weight, her tits were still where they were supposed to be, and her legs were firm and nicely contoured.

Her heart thudded as she studied Jolie’s face, losing herself in the warm brown of those adoring eyes.

All we have in this world is each other, Dana reminded herself. Would it be such an awful thing if I were to make love to her, just this once? After all, I want Jolie’s first orgasm to be one she remembers forever.

She weighed the idea, let it unfold in her mind. Maybe I could pretend she’s my lover for a few minutes – my underage lover. Okay, that’s sort of weird, but also… wilder, more exciting. 

Still gazing at her daughter, Dana made a decision.

“Lie down with your legs spread apart for me,” she said, her voice low and sensual.

Jolie happily obeyed, the girl’s eyes wide open as she watched her mum. She was curious as to what was going to happen, while also hoping for more of those lovely touches.

Dana stretched out next to her daughter. “I think you’re going to like this.” Reaching between Jolie’s legs, she began tracing the vaginal opening, her finger sliding through the girl’s moist labia.

“That’s good, Mummy,” Jolie cooed. “I like it!”

“Oh, my,” Dana said to herself. This was even more of a thrill than she expected. She was breaking the law of motherly conduct in a big way, yet it felt strangely right, somehow. It had been ages since she’d had sex with someone who truly, honestly loved her… and who she adored every bit as much.

Wanting to take Jolie even further, Dana allowed a finger to graze her daughter’s clit. “Oh,” she moaned. “Oh.”

Jolie’s clitoris was tiny – just a button, really. But she certainly responds when you touch it, Dana thought, then realised that she had no real basis for comparison. She’d played kissing games with other girls when she was in high school, but had never experienced lesbian sex. In a way, we’re both virgins, she thought with a smile.

Suddenly she realised that Jolie was bucking up and down on the bed, crying, “Mummy, oh, Mummy! Don’t stop – p-please don’t!”

Centering her attention on the task at hand, Dana carefully toyed with Jolie’s bud. She gave it a gentle flick, and her daughter squealed with delight.

Whatever doubts Dana had about what she was doing had vanished into thin air. Her child was caught up in the purest ecstasy, and she was making it happen. Whether it was right or wrong, Dana’s sole objective was to make Jolie feel good.

By then, her daughter’s labia was flushed a bright pink, her clit was noticeably erect, and a trickle of juice was oozing from her slit.

Jolie gasped. “Ooooh, Mummy, that f-funny feeling, it’s getting big…!”

Dana’s lips were barely touching her child’s ear. “Don’t you worry,” she whispered. “You’ll know all about it in a moment.” As if to fulfil a prophecy, Dana gave the girl’s clit a light pinch.

Jolie’s body began to shudder and she moaned. “It’s… it’s… ohhhhhh!”

As an orgasm ran through Jolie, Dana continued to masturbate her daughter. That climax began to subside, but another one came crashing down, and Jolie screamed.

Dana didn’t want to overdo it on the child’s first sexual experience. Her fourteen-year-old body could surely take it, but she wasn’t as certain about her daughter’s mind. She withdrew her hand, and Jolie went limp.

Even after her rapture had ebbed, Jolie needed a few minutes to recover. Dana held the girl close, gently rocking her to and fro.

Jolie’s eyes fluttered open. “What happened, Mummy? What was that? What did you do to me?’ Her eyes shone with awe.

Placing a kiss on the tip of her daughter’s nose, Dana jokingly said, “I think I made my baby girl feel good. Is that what I did, pumpkin?”

“You did, Mummy! It was… it was the bestest feeling ever!”

“And we can do it again, too. Lots and lots of times!” Dana was astonished to hear those words leave her mouth. Wasn’t this supposed to be a one-time thing? she asked herself.

“I’d like that, Mummy!”

But I don’t want to stop, she answered. It was lovely, the most fulfilling sex I’ve had in ages… and it’s brought me even closer to my daughter. No, I can’t give this up.

Dana gazed into Jolie’s enchanting blue eyes, a question rising to her lips, one she desperately longed to voice. Can I ask this of my own child? she wondered, torn between her conscience and the fierce need that pulsed through her body.

Making a decision, she spoke. “Jolie… do you think, maybe, you could do something like that for me? Make Mummy feel nice?”

Jolie all but sprang into a kneeling position. “I will! I love you soooo much, Mummy. You should get to have the good feeling, too!”

Bringing Jolie’s hand to her lips, Dana kissed it. “Thank you, my love.” She drew the girl’s bare body to hers. “That’s what you are, Jolie. My love. I’d do anything for you.”

“Me too, Mummy!” Jolie exclaimed. “So, um… can I give you the feeling now?”

Dana had to laugh. “Impatient, are we? Fair enough.” Stretching out on her back, she parted her legs, putting her vulva on display.

Nibbling her lower lip, Jolie studied her mother’s sex. “I… I just touch you here, huh?” Her index finger grazed Dana’s labia.

It felt divine. Shouldn’t take much to make me come, Dana thought. I’m at least halfway there. “Just like that, pumpkin.” She felt Jolie caress her open slit. “Oh, yes… that’s very nice.”

Jolie began to masturbate her mummy, the girl’s brow furrowed as she concentrated on the task at hand, determined to do her best. Dana had to ask her daughter a couple of times to be more gentle, but they quickly established a steady rhythm. Jolie didn’t know how to stimulate the clitoris, but that didn’t really matter to Dana – the girl’s finger continued to trace a pathway through her cunt, going a little deeper with every pass, pushing Dana to the brink of a climax she’d needed for years without knowing it.

Dana hadn’t made love since her divorce nearly eight years earlier… and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d pleasured herself. So when Jolie brought her to orgasm, it was like coming home.

In its aftermath, Dana felt herself glowing with pleasure – and love. Hugging her daughter tightly, she found herself crying.

Jolie’s eyes grew wide with concern. “M-Mummy?” she whimpered. Her lower lip began to quiver.

“I’m okay, pumpkin,” Dana hastened to say, taking a steadying breath. The last thing she wanted right then was to make Jolie cry. “These are happy tears, because I – I love you so much.”

Satisfied with the explanation, glad to have made her mother feel good, Jolie was content to nestle in Dana’s arms and have her face showered with kisses,

Without quite understanding why, Jolie felt a sudden urge to kiss her mother. So when Dana’s lips wandered near hers, she puckered up and gave Mummy a firm kiss on the mouth, the way men and ladies did it on TV.

Taken by surprise, Dana was first to break away. She stared at her daughter, whispering, “Oh, baby girl…”

I’m in love with her, she realised. God in heaven, I’m in love with my own child. 

Closing her eyes, Dana gave Jolie a feather-light kiss. Then another… and another.

“That’s nice,” Jolie said. “I like kissing you, Mummy.”

It was an opportunity Dana couldn’t allow to pass. “Do you? Well, then… how would you like to learn how grownups kiss? Then you and I could be lovers.”

Tilting her head, Jolie gave her mum a curious look. “We could? You mean, like you and me are girlfriends?”

Dana’s heart was racing, and she felt tingly and warm all over. “That’s right, pumpkin. If you want, we can be girlfriends.” She chuckled. “I like being lovers even more, though.”

Jolie giggled. “But that’s silly! How can you be my lover and my mum?”

Bending to kiss her daughter’s cheek, Dana nuzzled her way down to Jolie’s neck, touching her lips to the soft skin. “Let me show you how,” she murmured, rolling onto her back, carrying Jolie along so the girl was now on top of her.

“Ooooohh,” Jolie sighed, a shiver racing through her slender frame. “Okay, Mummy.”

Dana placed a line of kisses along the teen’s throat, then up to her chin. From there, it was the briefest of journeys to Jolie’s mouth. “I adore you, my darling child,” Dana whispered. She kissed her again, this time allowing it to linger. After a moment, she parted her lips, teasing her daughter’s mouth with a brief flick of the tongue.

Jolie responded by letting her own lips drift open… and when Dana’s tongue emerged again, the teen met it with hers, as if joining in Mummy’s game. Dana wasn’t sure what the girl’s response signified, but wanted to encourage her, so she engaged Jolie’s tongue in a sort of dance.

Soon her daughter was eagerly participating, and their tongues flickered back and forth. At that point, Dana began to make the kiss deep and sensuous – letting their mouths slide together, gently nibbling at the girl’s lower lip, purring with pleasure. It seemed to work, too. Jolie’s response suggested she understood that this was more than just casual play.

Finally, Dana put her hands to Jolie’s shoulders and pushed upwards, so the teen was looking down at her.

“You like kissing, do you?” she asked. “My baby likes to kiss?”

Too dazed to reply, Jolie stared at Dana, as if waiting for something more.

Dana rolled Jolie onto her back and kissed her again. This was firm and passionate, and her daughter hesitated before joining in – but she did, soon matching her mother’s ardour.

It’s time, Dana told herself.

Scooting down to the end of the bed, she grasped her daughter’s knees and pushed them apart. She glanced up to see Jolie’s face – the girl’s expression was one of eager curiosity, of expectation. Perhaps Jolie didn’t know what her mother was about to do, but she was keen to find out.

Dana studied Jolie’s sex as if for the first time. It was a deep pink, adorned by a sprinkling of soft pubes. The labia were slightly parted, a hint of wetness visible.

Still, Dana hesitated, well aware of never having done anything like this before. It was crossing a dangerous line, she knew that, but it no longer mattered. My poor damaged child… she’s got a mother who adores her, but she deserves more. A lover. Someone to worship her body as well as her soul. Who is society to tell me I can’t give Jolie that?

There and then, she made her decision. Damn whatever the rules say – I was meant for this.

Moving closer, she gave her daughter’s pussy a long, slow lick. She heard Jolie make a squeaking sound of surprise, perhaps even delight, but after that she was so caught up in the act of going down on her daughter that she couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

It wasn’t long before Jolie was coming again, her hands clenched to fists, crying, “Mummy, Mummy, oooohh M-Mummy I love you!”

Dana was giddy with joy, gulping down her daughter’s honey as it flowed from Jolie’s slit, then licking inside for more. Probing further, the tip of her tongue touched the membrane that guarded the girl’s virginity. She pushed against it, but was unable to go any deeper.

Only later would she have misgivings, or even give it much consideration. But at that moment, it seemed the only logical move.

Gazing at her dreamy-eyed girl, Dana crooned, “Do you trust Mummy, pumpkin?”

Jolie was too far gone to do much more than mumble, “Uh-huh.”

Dana reached for a pillow and slipped it beneath Jolie’s pelvis, then gently spread her daughter’s legs apart, feeling a delicious shiver when the vaginal cleft parted ever so slightly, exposing its bright pink interior. Placing her finger at the entrance, Dana slipped it inside, savouring the warmth and wetness of Jolie’s cunt.

When the tip of her finger rested against her daughter’s hymen, Dana took a deep breath to steady her nerves, then spoke. “I’m going to open you up inside, so we can play even more lovely games together. This might hurt, pumpkin… but only for a moment. Okay?”

“Okay, Mummy. I’ll t-try to be brave…”

Dana slipped her finger into the gap where Jolie’s monthly flow could get past, then pushed it inside with a single steady stroke.

“Ooooh!” the girl gasped, more in surprise than pain.

“Are you okay? Did that hurt very much?” A bit late now for that to be a concern, she admonished herself.

“No, Mummy. It wasn’t bad.”

Dana whispered, “Thank God.” She withdrew her finger until only the tip remained, then slid it back inside. Moving very slowly, she began to pump in and out, gradually increasing the pace.

“S-so full, Mummy!” Jolie exclaimed. “I… I like this!”

I’m fucking my daughter, Dana told herself.

A mere day earlier, she would have been horrified by the very thought. Now she was beside herself with happiness, astonished by how utterly right this felt.

Getting an idea, Dana turned herself around, bending over Jolie’s tummy. Now she could pleasure the girl’s cunt with her finger while sucking her clit.

A shivery moan escaped the teen’s lips, and her limbs began to tremble.

In very little time Dana’s efforts were rewarded – her daughter was climaxing again. She took Jolie through the rise and fall of ecstasy, then blessed her with a kiss.

“I adore you, my darling, darling child,” Dana whispered. “Now you’re Mummy’s little lover… and I’m going to make you the happiest girl in the world.”

“Love you, Mummy,“ Jolie sighed, barely able to get the words out before she fell asleep.

Dana lay quietly for a while, gazing at her daughter – her beautiful unique girl, so childlike, so perfect. After a while, she too drifted off.

***

When Dana awakened, there was still a hint of daylight outside – but the light wasn’t what had roused her.

She quickly realised that her legs were apart, and Jolie was lying between them, licking her pussy!

When she saw her mother was awake, Jolie raised her head. With a grin, she said, “You wanted me to do those things to you, Mummy… but I didn’t get to do this yet!”

Falling back on the bed, Dana gave herself over to Jolie’s love. The child was planting little kisses all over her vulva. There was no pattern, no way to guess where the girl’s lips or tongue would touch next – her mound, her clit, the cleft between her labia, the entrance to her cunt, even her perineum.

It was lovely, but too unfocused to get Dana where she needed to be. And by then, her need was acute.

“Lick me, pumpkin,” she gasped. “Like it’s a lollipop!”

Jolie’s kisses turned to licks, and the teen fell into a pattern – her tongue travelled from Dana’s hole through her labia, ending with her clit. Then Jolie licked again.

Without meaning to, Dana exclaimed, “Oh, fuck!”

Jolie’s face popped up. “You shouldn’t say that, Mummy,” she scolded. “That’s a naughty word!”

Dana looked at Jolie, fighting an impulse to laugh. “It’s okay when you’re making love, pumpkin. That’s what the word is for in the first place. You shouldn’t say it at school, or around grownups… but when we’re doing things like this, it’s okay.” Reaching out, she caressed her child’s face. “You say it, pumpkin. Say that word.”

Jolie stared at her mother, not certain what to think. “You want me to say that?”

“Just for me, honey. Please?”

Jolie shrugged, as if to say, These crazy grownups – what’ll they think of next? She whispered the word. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, darling. Say it again!”

She did, louder this time. “Fuck.”

“Again!”

Louder, now with a touch of confidence. “Fuck!”

“See, isn’t that fun?” Dana said. “Sometimes you should enjoy being naughty.”

“I guess.” Jolie decided to try it again. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, then burst into giggles.

“Okay, now let’s try something a bit different. Go back to licking me… but this time, say the word every time you take a lick.”

Jolie mulled the idea over. “And then you’ll get the good feeling again?”

“Oh, yes. I very much will.”

“Cool!” Delving back between her mother’s legs, Jolie took a deep breath. “Fuck,” she announced, then took a lick.

“Oh, God,” Dana moaned. “Oh, yes.”

“Fuck!” This time the teen said the wicked word right into her mum’s kitty, so she could give her a lick straight away.

“Fuck!” Lick.

“Fuck!” Lick.

That was enough to set Dana off. She exploded in an orgasm, one powerful enough to cause her to gush into Jolie’s face.

Oh, hell, she thought, expecting to hear a howl of protest from her daughter. Instead, she got a giggle.

“You wet yourself, Mummy. But it’s not wee, you said so!”

“That’s right, it isn’t,” said Dana. Sitting up, she drew her daughter close, claiming the girl’s mouth in a tender kiss. Jolie responded immediately, her tongue darting between Mummy’s lips, and their kiss went from gentle to passionate.

When they finally drifted apart, the starry-eyed girl whispered, “Am I really your little lover now? And we get to be girlfriends? Really and truly?”

“Yes, Jolie,” Dana murmured. “If that’s what you want… then so do I. More than anything.”

Suddenly animated, Jolie was all but bouncing in her mother’s arms. “I do want, Mummy!” she squealed. “I do!”

Dana touched her lips to the teen’s cheek. “Then that’s how it is, pumpkin. Forever and always.”

“Good,” Jolie cooed, then broke into a huge yawn.

“Oh, my… I know a certain girl who’s having an attack of the snoozies–” Then Dana was yawning herself.

“You too, Mummy!” Jolie gleefully replied. “We both got the snoozies!”

“Well, there’s only one thing to do about that.” Gathering up the scattered bedding as best she could, Dana covered their bodies. “C’mon, pumpkin. You’re staying with me tonight. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Jolie nestled into her mother. “Night-night, Mummy. Love you.”

“Love you too, pumpkin.”

As her eyelids grew heavy, Dana was thinking about her special child. So innocent, an angel in the guise of a young girl. She hoped nothing had happened between them to spoil that innocence. Somehow, it seemed unlikely.

Her last thought before drifting off was I’ve got to be the luckiest mum in the world.

On to Part Two!

by Kinkychic

Many thanks to JS contributor BlueJean for editing this story.

***

From late July and right through August, I regularly went picking blackberries for my mother. She made the most gorgeous pies and crumbles with them, along with some added apples, of course. She also made pretty good wine, just as long as I’d picked enough. Most years, I picked anything up to fifty or sixty pounds. We had an extra freezer in the garage just for all the wild fruits I collected. Damsons, elderberries, and sloes added to the selection.

A couple of years back the crop hadn’t been as good as it usually was, so hoping to find a better area, I began to search further afield.

Boudica Way is a thirty-mile-long bridal way dating from the Roman occupation of Britain. A short walk from our house, it trailed through a stretch of woodland where I’d never ventured before. I decided to try my luck there, and very quickly found good clumps of brambles covered with large ripe berries. Even better, nobody else seemed to be picking along here.

I came to a point where a track ran off to the left, and being naturally inquisitive, wondered where it might lead. It wasn’t very far before my way was barred by a high metal gate. A notice hung in the centre: Private Property No Trespassing. Peering through the bars, I caught a glimmer of sun reflecting off water. There must be a lake down there, I thought. The area had many old and abandoned gravel quarries, and I guessed this might be one. The sign was probably only there for safety reasons.

My curiosity got the better of me. On either side of the gate was just dense shrub amongst the trees, and after a quick look and a bit of poking about, I soon found a way around.

The track leading away from the gate was fairly steep heading down, but very soon I saw it did indeed lead to a lake. My jaw dropped when I came through the trees and out into the open. Never had I seen such a stunningly beautiful vista. Thick, lush grass carpeted the landscape, dotted with a smattering of beautiful wild flowers in various colours. The lake in the centre was huge – maybe the equivalent of ten soccer pitches – and framed behind by high excavated cliffs. There were two reed and shrub covered islands towards the middle.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else around. Did I dare go down and take a look? Yes! So what if I was caught? What could they do to a thirteen-year-old?

I walked to the edge of the lake and found a small jetty with a little rowing boat tied to it. Fish swam about in the crystal clear water, and everywhere I looked there were dozens of ducks, as well as a large family of swans.

Past the lake, I followed the vague outline of a path that ran back towards the treeline, and a short ways in I was surprised to discover a flight of wooden steps that seemingly disappeared up into the trees.

Then I saw the treehouse hidden amongst the higher branches.

Not just any old treehouse, though – this one had a fenced ramp running from the steps that led up to a spacious veranda. The door and windows were all glazed and there were even wooden tiles on the roof.

I stood there peering up, amazed. What was this place? It was surely too big and elaborate to be a child’s treehouse. Did someone live here? Was this some rich family’s summer retreat? The whole place was a hidden paradise.

I resisted the urge to climb up and take a closer look – if it was someone’s home I didn’t want to get in trouble for trespassing.

I wandered off around the other side of the lake instead, and bingo! There on the edge of the trees were plenty of blackberry bushes bearing the biggest berries I’d ever seen. I’d hit the jackpot!

In no time at all I had two buckets so full I was struggling to carry them. It didn’t occur to me until then that I would have to carry the heavy load all the way home, which was at least a couple miles away. Eventually, I did manage it, but my shoulders were awfully sore the next day.

***

I began to visit the island on the lake every few days, and never did I see another soul on those occasions, except the ducks and the swans and the fish. Oh, and the wasps that buzzed around any over-ripe berries in my buckets, but they didn’t bother me much.

It was one particularly hot day out on the lake when I decided to sit and soak in the beauty of my surroundings for a while. I had already picked my berries for the day, so I went and hid my buckets in the shade of a tree, then walked back to where the steps led up to the treehouse. I sat there at the bottom where it was nice and cool, and looked out onto the clear water. An ideal spot to just chill out for a bit.

I was startled awake sometime later by a voice and realised I must have dozed off.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you see the sign? It’s private property, you know. It says so on the gate.”

For a moment, I just stared at the girl who had spoken, rubbing my eyes sleepily and trying to gather my thoughts.

“I didn’t come through the gate,” I told her, then pointed in another direction. “I came in over there.” I no longer entered by the trackway. I’d found a shorter, though steeper route through the trees. I knew about the sign, of course, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know it was private, honestly.”

We sort of stared at each other for a moment, neither of us quite sure what to say next. She was pretty, maybe a year or so older than me, I guessed. What really got me though, were her denim shorts – well, the lack of them, really. They were obviously a size or more too small for her. They had a ragged cut hem, and from where I was sitting I could just see the pink edge of her panties. The front of the shorts were tight and left almost nothing to the imagination. Her legs – oh wow, her legs! – were about half a mile long and utterly gorgeous.

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” she said with the hint of a smile on her lips. “Especially where you’re staring.”

I started to get up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any harm. Er… by being here, I mean.”

“It’s okay. You can stay, I suppose.” She plonked herself down next to me on the step. “You don’t seem to be the vandal type. So how did you find this place?”

I explained to her that I came here sometimes to pick a few berries, and that I liked to sit and watch the ducks. “I’m sorry if I’ve done wrong… but I guess I already said that, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind, but it’s just as well it was me that found you and not my father. He can be very harsh with trespassers, because of the damage they’ve caused in the past.”

Once again I started to say I was sorry, but she interrupted. “Stop apologising – I’ve said it’s okay. What’s your name, anyway?”

I saw her smile and felt myself relax a bit. “I’m called Bee. It’s not my real name, though.”

She giggled. “How lovely! But are you a nice bee or a stingy bee?”

I’d heard all the jokes before, of course, and they usually bored me, but I didn’t seem to mind it from her. I returned her smile. “Me? I’m a friendly bee. I never sting.”

Then she did something strange – well, strange for two teenagers, I suppose – held out her palm for a handshake. “I’m Davina. It’s nice to meet you, Bee – even if you are a trespasser.”

I instantly fell in love with the sound of her tinkling laughter. Not only did it have a musical quality, but it was also incredibly infectious. I couldn’t help but join in.

She told me all about the lake, how it was a long-abandoned gravel quarry. Her father had bought it almost twenty years ago and landscaped the whole place. She took me to a reedy corner and showed me where the ducks nested. Several had eggs in them. The swans nested on the other island, she told me.

I glanced at my watch and realised with some alarm how much time had flown by. “Davina, I really have to go. My mother will be fretting.”

She gave me a little pout of disappointment. “Oh. Perhaps you could come again tomorrow? Maybe around twelve o’clock?”

I heard the hope in her voice. She seemed to really want me to come back. “I’d love to,” I told her. “I can bring some sandwiches and stuff, if you like.”

She clapped her hands together. “Yes! And I’ll bring some drinks.” A flicker of doubt crossed her face and she reached out to touch my hand. “Promise you’ll come, Bee?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here.”

I went to find my buckets. When I turned back, Davina was still there on the steps of the treehouse. She raised a hand to wave and then I made my way into the trees.

***

It was the school holidays, so Davina and I met every day at the same time. In only a few days, we became firm friends, and I was no longer a trespasser but a bonafide guest.

On every visit she wore the same style shorts as she had on our first meeting, and I was finding it very hard not to stare at her crotch when she sat on the grass in front of me. I’d known for over a year that I was only into girls, but Davina never gave any hint that she might be open to the same way of thinking. I was scared to spoil our friendship, so I resolved to behave myself. I just loved her company, and that would have to do.

It had been a month since our first meeting when Davina asked me, “Bee, would you like to see the island? Not the one with the swans – they can get a bit spiky when you go near their nests – but we can go to the other one.”

I told her I’d like to, and soon we’d collected a pair of oars from the boat shed and were making our way down to the little jetty.

“Have you ever rowed a boat before?” Davina asked me.

I hadn’t, and didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of my new friend. “No. I’d prefer to just watch, if you can manage on your own. Maybe I can have a go coming back.”

I soon discovered that sitting in front of a girl wearing small, tight shorts while she rows a boat is quite the eye-opener. The gentle undulation of Davina’s pussy lips through the thin material as she went back and forth with the oars was making me tingle quite badly between my legs. By the time we reached the island I didn’t know what to do with myself.

“You’d best take your shoes off,” Davina said as the boat came to a stop. “We’re going to get wet feet here.”

Carefully we climbed ashore, and took the rope with us to tie the boat up safely. Everywhere seemed squidgy and wet underfoot until I followed her to the centre of the island where the ground was firmer.

Now we were in our own little sanctuary, the surrounding bushes hiding us completely from the outside world. We lay down in the soft, dry grass, the sound of ducks and other birds creating a sweet symphony in this slice of paradise.

Davina was still a little out of breath from her rowing, and I found myself staring again, this time at the rise and fall of her breasts, which were a fair bit larger than mine.

She suddenly got to her feet and my eyes followed her as she plucked a wildflower from the ground, then sat back down, closer to me now. I was surprised when she reached out and tucked it into my hair. “There – a beautiful flower for a beautiful girl.”

I felt the heat of a blush on my face. She laughed her wonderful laugh. “Bee, don’t say you’ve gone shy on me. I’ve noticed you don’t seem shy when I catch you looking.”

I startled at her words, then felt even more warmth infuse my cheeks.

“Oh yes, I’ve seen how you look at me,” Davina continued. “At first, I was a bit cross with you. I thought about ending our friendship, you know. After a while though, I realised that I was waiting for you to look, and then wanting you to look. Then today, in the boat, I saw you getting all hot, and I really liked what I was doing to you.” She blew out a breath of air. “There. I’ve said it.”

She stretched a knee back towards her head in a kind of yoga move, and when I turned to look at her – still trying to take in her words – her thigh was a few inches from my face.

If I still had any reservations, they now evaporated. I craned my neck slightly until my lips made contact with her knee. I let them linger there while my eyes locked on hers. For a long moment she lay there, simply looking. Then her fingers touched my cheek. “Bee…”

I sat up and leaned towards her. I saw both the wanting and the uncertainty in her eyes. “Davina, I’m going to kiss you. Please let me, don’t be scared.” Then my lips came to hers, gentle and loving.

Very slowly, she accepted my kiss. I felt her tremble beneath me, then she was kissing me back. I applied a little more pressure and she in turn pressed harder into me. My hand trailed to the nape of her neck, pulling her tighter against me. When the kiss became more urgent, I realised how much longing I’d built up for this beautiful girl. I hadn’t expected it to come to anything, but now, finally, she was in my arms.

But I felt her suddenly tense and pull away. I let her go, and she sat staring at the ground.

“Bee… I can’t. I’m too nervous. I think we should go.”

I put my arm back around her shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry, I went too fast. I know you’re new to this, but I love you. I don’t want us to leave things like this.”

Her eyes met mine. “You love me? You really love me? But we’re both…” Her voice trailed off.

“Girls? So? And yes – I really do love you.”

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of her. “I guess you’ve done this before, but I haven’t. I know I started it – I egged you on, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

I gently touched her arm. “Let’s just lay here a while. We can still be friends.”

She settled back into the grass alongside me, her shoulder just barely brushing against mine. We lay there like that for what seemed an age, not a word spoken by either of us.

Then I felt her fingers slowly hook into my own. I squeezed gently, mindful not to scare her again.

Still we said nothing, until eventually I heard her whisper, “You can kiss me again if you want. I don’t mind.”

I propped myself up on an elbow and leaned into her. “Are you sure? You can tell me to stop if you don’t like it, I won’t be upset.”

Davina smiled at me and murmured, “Kiss me, then.”

“I will. I want to so much.”

My finger traced her lips, back and then forth. She pursed them, kissing my fingertip tentatively. “Go slowly with me, please.”

I brought my lips softly to hers in the faintest hint of a kiss. “Close your eyes,” I whispered, then kissed her eyelids with another gentle caress, before peppering more upon her nose and across her cheeks.

Turning on my side, I gently pulled her towards me. We gazed into each other’s eyes. “I love you, Davina.” When I touched my lips to hers once again, she returned the kiss.

I brushed my fingers across her chin, lightly teasing the soft skin there, then trailing round to explore her ears and the nape of her neck. When my hand returned, I left it poised at the open neck of her top.

When Davina’s arm dropped across my back, I realised my t-shirt had ridden up and her hand had settled on my bare skin. For a second I thought she would pull it away, but her warm fingers remained where they were.

Pressing the kiss the merest fraction more, I felt her fingers move across my back, up beneath my t-shirt, a tentative exploration.

I fiddled with her top button, not really trying to undo it, just making her aware of what I wanted. Her hand had reached the nape of my neck, forcing my t-shirt even further up. I took that as a sign that she wanted me to go further.

I hooked the first button of her top through its eye, then rested my palm upon her upper chest, just above the swell of her breasts. Davina made no response, but our kiss seemed to intensify. My fingers slowly spread out across her skin until I found the top of her bra. Now I traced a fingertip along the edge and up the other side, then back towards the centre. I felt the fingers of her other hand touch my thigh, then settle there.

Her second button slipped easily through its hole. I seized the moment, lowering my hand until it rested upon the rise of a breast. My lips parted and I allowed my tongue to trace hers. Gently, ever so gently, I squeezed her breast, and was relieved to feel fingers dig a little harder into my neck and a hand close in on my thigh.

I hooked a finger beneath the thin strap of Davina’s bra and eased it slowly from a shoulder, then let it slip down her arm. My hand edged back, pushing the material away, and then I had a soft, bare breast in the palm of my hand. I sensed, rather than heard, a low moan from deep in her throat, so I pressed a little more firmly.

Now I could feel the nipple stiffen beneath my fingers. When I broke our kiss, her eyes fluttered open and regarded me with a lusty curiosity.

“I love you,” I told her again.

She smiled and pulled my head down alongside hers, so I nuzzled her ear with wet little kisses.

“Bee,” she whispered. “I… I’m all right now. Please… love me.”

She groaned aloud when I took a nipple between my fingers and rolled it back and forth. My mouth plied little kisses down her neck, into the dip of her throat, then over the swell of her breasts. I reached a nipple and flicked it with my tongue before closing my lips and taking it into my mouth.

The fingers on my thigh gripped harder. I lifted my leg and slid it over hers, pulling her closer, her hand caught between us. I wondered if she could feel the heat of my pussy on her skin.

Her nipple was fully stiff now as I suckled it, and I could feel her breathing increase in tempo. I undid the rest of the buttons on her top until I could push it open. My hand slipped behind to unclasp her bra, then went back to her top to try and ease a sleeve down. She understood my intention and her arm came out from under my t-shirt. Her sleeve pulled free, and the garment dropped behind her on the grass.

Davina was pulling at the front of my t-shirt. I lifted my head from a breast and let her drag the top over my head. I was about to bend back down but she held me there, peering at my budding titties.

“Beautiful… Oh, Bee, you’re so beautiful.”

I watched as she edged closer to plant soft kisses upon my nipples, first one, then the other. She leaned back, and a hand found me, fingers brushing to and fro. “So stiff…” she murmured.

My own hand was trailing across her tummy. I reached the top of her shorts, but knew I’d struggle to get inside – they were far too tight. Instead, I ran my hand over them, brushing lightly across the material. I could feel the curve of her lips, and pushed a little harder. Her body responded with a small tremor and a sharp intake of breath.

I rubbed up and down the cleft through her shorts while our mouths met in another kiss. Her other hand settled between my legs, her thumb pressing against my pussy. As much as I hoped for it, though, she didn’t move her hand at all. I think she may have been fully focused on what I was doing to her.

I sensed Davina’s passion rising, and knew that just rubbing through her shorts wasn’t going to be enough. I took hold of the fastener and tried to undo it, but it was far too stiff and I couldn’t manage with one hand. Then her fingers were on mine, and between the two of us we managed to push it open. I pulled the zipper down and eased my hand inside her panties.

Her shorts were very tight, but eventually I felt her pussy lips beneath my touch. She gasped as I pressed into her, my fingers barely able to move. I slid them up a little until I found her clit. Her body instantly tightened, and when she held her breath I knew she was close to coming.

I’d barely noticed how or when she’d managed to get inside the leg of my shorts until I suddenly felt her touch my pussy lips. I ground my hips down and forced her hand between them. Then I was rocking back and forth, massaging my clit on her fingers.

I felt the tremors thrum through her body as she clawed at my neck and shook her head from side to side, breaking our kiss. “B-Beeeee!”

I wanted to come too, but Davina was too far gone to be aware of my needs at that moment. I humped her fingers, rocking my hips faster and faster. I had enough sense left to remind myself not to pee, as I often do when I come – it would most likely shock her, besides making a mess of both our shorts.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as I strove for a climax, vaguely aware that Davina’s fingers were now between my pussy lips. I just knew they were something to use. I pumped myself up and down, fucking her hand as hard as I could.

I could hear Davina speaking to me from far away. “Are you going to orgasm, Bee? Please… do it for me.”

I arched my back, going rigid as I dug my toes into the soft, cool grass. She was trying to help, her fingers moving against me, and all at once I could feel the pee coming.

I rolled back, pulling Davina with me, her hand still grinding against my pussy. I wished she’d touch my clit, but it was too late – I was coming anyway. The tremors rocked me and I felt the familiar hot jet inside my shorts.

Slowly I came back to myself. God, how I had needed that.

I opened my eyes when her lips touched mine in a soft caress. She was peering at me, and all I saw there was love. No shock, no regret – just love. She brought her head down alongside mine and kissed my neck. Her fingers were still inside me.

I heard her giggle and asked, “What’s funny?”

“I never believed I’d have my hand on a girl’s pussy. Now I don’t want to take it away.” She laughed again. “Did you know you’re soaking wet? I think you peed yourself.”

I felt myself blush a little. “Sorry, I do that sometimes when I come. I tried to control it, but… well, it just happens.”

Davina seemed amazed. “I made you come? I thought maybe I had but I wasn’t sure.” She paused for a moment before continuing with a smile, “I did make you come, didn’t l? Oh my God, it was so wonderful. Thank you, Bee.” Then she leaned in to kiss me again.

When she sat up, her breasts were free and bare, but she didn’t seem shy at all. She glanced down at my shorts, then her own. “Do you think we should take them off to dry them out?”

One of my dreams had come true today – I’d made this beautiful girl come. Now I’d get another: to see her naked. I lifted my hips to push my shorts down, but she stopped me.

“Let me.”

She gave them a tug, slipping the damp material down my legs and pulling them away to hang across a bush. When she peered back at me, her gaze travelled down to my panties. It was hard not to notice the gleam in her eyes. Her fingers hooked into the elastic and drew them down, the faintest hint of a grin teasing the corners of her mouth. She paused briefly when my pussy first came into view, her eyes flashing, then continued to tug them down.

When she looked up and saw that I was watching, her cheeks filled with colour. She turned away to hang my panties alongside my shorts.

“Now yours,” I said, reaching for her. She grabbed my hands, and I thought she was going to stop me, but when her hips lifted she helped me wiggle her shorts down. As small and tight as they were, her panties came down with them.

I threw Davina’s shorts aside without thinking, instead of hanging them out to dry, but on an impulse I brought her panties to my face. She put a hand to her mouth in shock as I breathed in deeply, taking in her wonderful aroma. I giggled and threw them back at her. She went to catch them but they landed on her head. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she bunched them up in her hands and then dropped them on the grass.

“I think you’re a perv,” she laughed.

My eyes took in her naked beauty. God, she was divine – everything I could have wished for. I was already moving down between her legs as I replied, “You better believe it.”

Then my mouth was upon her lovely pussy lips.

Davina gave a little squeal of surprise, but made no attempt to stop me. “Bee! What’re you…” Then my tongue found her clit. “Oh! Oh my God!”

I gave her little nub a long, slow lick. Her legs opened wider and she pulled her feet up towards her body, leaving me framed between her knees.

After licking her pussy for a while I sat back on my haunches. “Well? Is it good?”

“Do it again…” she said in a hushed tone, then pulled my head back between her legs.

I didn’t need telling twice. But first I wanted to see inside those lovely little lips. My fingers spread her open. Her pee hole peeped out at me and the flesh deeper into her vagina glistened with sticky dew. I slipped two fingers through her folds, then slowly eased them inside.

Now that there were no tight shorts to hinder my exploration, I settled into a nice slow fuck. Davina gave a brief jolt when I returned my mouth to her clit, but I sucked more gently this time, aware of how sensitive she’d be after coming. She peered down at me, her top lip curled in a little snarl. I heard her swear for the first time. “Fuck, that’s good…”

I gathered up one of her legs with my free hand and brought it to rest across my shoulder. She did the same with her other leg. Any inhibitions she might’ve had were now long gone – she’d given herself to me completely.

I had access to her beautiful arse now, but had to remind myself to go cautiously. I couldn’t resist touching her there, though, and allowed my hand to trail its way across her thigh until I was cupping a cheek. I kneaded her there a while, inching slowly towards the centre where I briefly let my thumb graze her hole. She tensed at the contact, but I’d already moved on.

Davina’s body seemed to be coiling tighter, her passion rising, so I fucked her pussy a little faster, probing different points to see where I might get a reaction. Her vaginal walls clamped down over my fingers, and I knew I’d found a particularly sensitive spot. Her hips thrust forwards, urging me on as I tickled her there.

The trembling throughout her body was a clear sign that she was ready to come again. I trailed a finger through the crack of her arse, then spun the tip in little circles over the rosebud, all the while still fucking her pussy.

Her thighs gripped my neck tightly, and I could feel the spasm of her pussy clutching and releasing, clutching; releasing. When she let out a long, low moan of desperate pleasure, it was clear she was in the throes of climax, so I slipped a finger into her arse, knowing she was in no state to protest, even if she’d wanted to. I took her clit into my mouth and sucked hard until she lost control, wailing incoherently. Somehow I managed to keep hold of her as she thrashed against me, driving her orgasm on and on.

There was one last surge before she collapsed, spent, lying limp beneath me. I was worn out too, my energy sapped by Davina’s violent struggles. I lay my head upon her tummy, my finger still buried inside her pussy.

I could feel her stroking my hair. “Bee, come here. Let me hold you,” she murmured.

I slipped out of her, then crawled up into her waiting arms. They wrapped around me and pulled me close, and then we were lying quietly together – the silence of lovers wholly content in their embrace.

Finally, she spoke. “Bee, I never knew… So beautiful. I’m so happy.”

“I know, my love.” I kissed her softly, then sat up. “We ought to go, it’s getting late.”

“But I want to try and love you, just like you did to me. Let’s stay a while longer.”

“We have tomorrow,” I told her with a smile. “Tomorrow you can love me. Let’s go.”

I managed to row the boat back across the lake (not too badly for my first time, I didn’t think), and this time it was Davina’s turn to stare, even though my shorts weren’t quite as revealing as hers.

“I think you’re a bad influence on me,” she told me with a little smirk. “I never would’ve imagined wanting to look between another girl’s legs before you came along.”

A short while later we were lingering on the path to Davina’s treehouse, clinging together in a passionate kiss. Finally we parted, said our goodbyes, then headed our separate ways.

“Davina!” I called after her. “Will you wear a dress or a skirt for me tomorrow?”

She laughed at that, then gave me a wave before disappearing from sight.

Tomorrow seems such a long way off, I thought as I made my way home. I smiled to myself as I remembered the first time I’d discovered this secret place. I came to look for berries, but found a mysterious treehouse and a beautiful girlfriend as well.

Thank God for blackberries!

The End

by Rachael Yukey

“Which way?” said Terry, easing the ambulance towards the boat landing exit.

“Take a right on Pine Point,” I said. “It’ll run straight into County Two, then you’ll go left. If I’m right about where we’re going, it’ll be maybe a quarter mile from there.”

“Thanks for not telling Jeff the whole story,” said Terry. “I didn’t want to reach the point of being asked where we’re getting our information. Until we manage to sort out the good guys from the bad guys, I don’t want to get within shouting distance of Halee’s name being brought into this.”

“For what it’s worth, I was thinking the same thing,” I told him.

Terry smiled, shaking his head. “You know, the extent to which we’re on the same page in most situations, without even having to discuss it, is pretty amazing.”

As he signaled left onto County Road Two, a stretch of gravel wider and in better repair than Pine Point Road, I regarded him bitterly.

“Except when it comes to us, right?” I said. Instantly I regretted letting that slip out. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted with Terry, but it seemed at this point we were struggling to even maintain a friendship. And that wasn’t exactly his fault, was it?

Terry shrugged. “Maybe. I’m going to throw out there that you seem extraordinarily allergic to letting anyone get too close, and I am damned if I’m going to chase you down every time you freak out and pull a runner.”

I felt tears sting the back of my eyelids. Hurt and angry, I indicated an upcoming mailbox. “There’s the address George gave us,” I said stiffly. “The field approach should be just past it.”

Terry eased off the gas, letting the rig coast down. He cut hard left so the ambulance was blocking most of the road, then backed into the approach, leaving plenty of room on the right for a second ambulance.

“Any idea where this road George was talking about might be?” he said.

I pointed towards a steep incline in the direction we’d been going.

“There’s what’s left of an old road, with a padlocked chain across the entrance, at the top of that hill,” I said. “Once everything greens up this summer, you won’t even notice it’s there when you’re driving by. I’m not sure, but I think that’s it.”

We fell silent for a few minutes.

“You’re not always so easy to get along with yourself, you know,” I said at last.

The corners of Terry’s mouth quirked upwards. “Think so?”

“It’s impossible to get you to be serious for five minutes,” I said. “And no matter where you are or who you’re with, you always think you’re King Shit of Turd Mountain. I think what worries me the most about you becoming ambulance director is that your head will get even bigger than it already is.”

Terry snorted. “My dear, you needn’t worry. Should it swell any larger, I won’t be able to enter my house.” Then he sobered. “Has it occurred to you that maybe we’re a lost cause? Your refusal to face your demons irritates me, and my narcissistic tendencies annoy you. The combination seems to mostly create friction.”

Before I could formulate a reply, the second ambulance arrived. Nate Hauss was driving, with Scott O’Brien in the shotgun seat. Scott was 25, a gangly man with straw-colored hair that he kept slicked back in a 50s-style duck’s ass cut. He’d attended EMT class with Terry.

“We brought extra hands,” Nate informed us through open windows, after he had backed his rig in next to ours. “Stacy and Jessie are in the back. I figured if it was big enough they wanted two trucks, we might need ’em. Does anyone know what the hell’s going on?”

“Just be ready for anything,” I said.

“Good thinking on bringing extras,” Terry called out.

It was only moments later that a procession of vehicles rounded the bend and came into view. Three police cars, various fire/rescue vehicles including the raggedy old rescue squad ambulance, and half a dozen ATVs. They rolled past us, some of them waving, and ascended the hill that I’d pointed out to Terry.

Spreading out along the edge of the gravel towards the top of the hill, they hastened to get organized. A firefighter carrying a heavy set of boltcutters stepped into the woods, then reappeared a moment later. The big yellow 4×4 Fire Department pickup eased itself into the pine. A firefighter was driving, George Fronse was in the shotgun seat, and two of the deputies were standing in the bed, clinging to the lightbar bolted across the top of the cab. The ATVs followed.

After five minutes that felt more like five years, Fronse’s voice crackled across the airwaves.  “Chief One to all units. Smaller vehicles can follow. It’s rough, so exercise caution, but there’s nothing any of you shouldn’t be able to penetrate. We have the auction pit in sight, and are awaiting the remaining officers before entering the valley.”

A flurry of acknowledgements came in, and one of the Sheriff’s Department cruisers disappeared into the trees, followed by a few other cars and smaller vehicles. The rescue squad ambulance remained parked by the side of the road at the top of the hill.

“Riddle me this,” said Terry, breaking through the tense silence that had fallen between the two of us as we listened to the radio chatter and waited. “Why don’t they replace that old beast with a Suburban or something? Rescue isn’t licensed to transport anyway, so all they need is a vehicle to carry medical supplies. An SUV would go a lot more places than an ambulance will.”

“Some rescue squads have gone over to SUVs,” I said. “Just none of the ones that overlap Bronning’s service area. I don’t see rescue here in town spending that kind of money anytime real soon. They just don’t roll all that often, because we have the EMS service right here.”

Terry pursed his lips and nodded. “Fair point,” he acknowledged.

“Chief One to 304,” George Fronse’s voice crackled on the radio, hailing one of the deputies.

“This is 304,” came the response.

“We’re in sight of the building. The front door is unbarred, and there’s been a lot of foot traffic through here. I’m also seeing what looks like an ATV trail going back into the woods. Someone’s been using this place for something. Is the pit area secured?”

“Copy, we’re secure back here.”

“Chief One to Bronning Medic.”

That meant me. I represented the highest available level of care, and that left me in charge of the EMS team.

“This is Rig Two,” I said into the mic.

“You can move in. The ambulances should make it down the hill all right. Your cold zone is the auction pit. Prep your triage there, and do not proceed beyond that point.”

“Rig Two to Rig One,” I said into the mic as Terry pulled forward onto the gravel, “did you copy that?”

“We copy,” said Nate.

At the crest of the hill, the old road became visible. The foliage was beaten down, crushed by the small parade of vehicles that had passed. Terry eased gently into it, immediately finding himself on a downslope, and doing his best to remain on the existing tire tracks. In the side-view mirror I could see the second truck following at a careful distance, the rescue squad rig bringing up the rear.

The road wound its way deeper into the morass of trees. It was rough, but not rutted or dangerously sloped. It took a full five minutes before the trees began to clear, and up ahead we could see the overgrown, weed-choked remains of an auction pit half the size of a football field. The cattle stand at one end had collapsed in on itself, but the auctioneer’s box still stood. Rusty steel bleachers surrounded the pit on three sides. The two deputies who had brought the cruiser in were waving us around to an opening through which we drove the ambulances into the center of the circle. Perhaps fifty yards beyond the far set of bleachers, a red-brick building stood, with the various rescue vehicles spread out before it.

Terry drove through the pit opening and brought the rig around in a wide arc, coming to a stop facing the exit. Nate did the same, and the rescue ambulance came in last. I recognized the driver of the rescue rig as Brenda Smith. A burley, short-tempered woman with tattooed arms and short hair dyed jet-black, Brenda is the only female on the Bronning fire squad.

As we all got out of our rigs, an ATV approached with a firefighter driving. Brian Severson. “Fronse sent me over here because I’m an EMR,” he said. “Brenda is, too. He said we should do whatever you guys tell us to.”

“All right,” I said, as my temporary command formed a circle with me as the focal point. “I don’t know what we’re going to be dealing with here, and if we’re lucky it’ll turn out to be nothing. I will tell you that we think it might be related to the rash of odd overdose cases we’ve had lately. If you see any of the hallmark symptoms, I’ll be calling on all of you to give the patients your best supportive care until I can get to them, because any effective interventions are outside your scope. If there’s just too many, we’ll get intercepts coming and hit the road. The first truck to go will roll for Melville, but if they don’t have ALS rigs left to intercept with you, choose the next closest facility that still does.”

I thought fast for a moment, trying to anticipate all possible contingencies. I was grateful for the fifty-five degree weather. It wasn’t exactly balmy, but it was warm enough that I wouldn’t have to worry too much about exposure.

“We also need to keep in mind that we have an unknown situation developing ahead,” I went on. “Brian, am I correct in assuming that the Chief is going to have fire hang back while PD secures the building?”

“That’s right,” said Brian.

“We have no idea what they’ll be walking into,” I said, “and we may end up with traumatic injuries to deal with. If there’s more than a handful, we’ll have to set up triage.”

I glanced around the little group, wondering who to choose for this most painful of tasks. The answer, when I arrived at it, was obvious.

“If it comes to that,” I said, “Terry is triage officer.”

“Why him?” said Nate. He looked Terry in the eye. “No disrespect, but those are our families sticking their necks out over there. Not yours.”

Terry started to say something, but I cut him off. “That’s why I picked him,” I said, deliberately putting an edge into my voice. “Do you really want to look at people you’ve known your whole life and decide who we’re not going to treat, Nate? I’m probably the only person here who’s ever had to do triage, and it’s bad enough when it isn’t people you know. Terry’s got the job, and that’s final.”

Nate’s jaw hardened, but he held his peace.

“Terry,” I said, “if it turns out there’s more patients than we can handle, I’m also going to have you serve as transport officer… it goes hand in hand with triage. You’ll get in touch with the hospitals and EMS services, determine who has how many trucks and ED beds, and decide which trucks go to which facilities. Also keep in mind the location of definitive care. For example, if we have a burn victim, you’ll want to get them moving south, because that’s the direction of the nearest burn center. Probably to Johnstown for stabilization, and then they’d transfer from there. Also keep helicopters in mind as an option, but it looks like we have some rain coming in, so they might no-go.”

Terry nodded. “Got it.”

“Brenda,” I said, turning my attention to the firefighter, “does the rescue rig still have that old manual cot in it?”

“It’s there,” said Brenda, “but it doesn’t work. The legs won’t extend.”

“Who cares? Make sure it’s clear, and the bench seat too. We can at least lay a couple of patients in there and have heat blowing on them.”

What I didn’t say was that if there were too many patients and it came to it, I’d put one of the EMTs in the back of that truck with an EMR driver, send it on its way to the hospital, and deal with any repercussions later.

“One last thing,” I said. “If shit does get real, remember where your place is. No matter what’s happening out there, we stay here. Patients get brought to us; we do not go to them. If any one of you gets hurt, that both costs us a provider and gives us an extra patient. We stay put no matter what. If the cops tell us to retreat, we leave, no questions asked.”

I looked around the group. Their faces were mostly scared and pale. Even for the more seasoned EMTs like Nate, this sort of situation was miles beyond the experience of a small-town volunteer.

I forced a smile. “Of course,” I added, “more than likely there’ll be a minor dustup, nobody will get hurt, and I’ll buy everybody a drink this evening. You can all have a good laugh at my expense. Now if there are no questions, get your rigs set up. Have airway adjuncts out and on the bench, and make sure your trauma supplies are easily accessible. Terry, you’ll want to go through your triage kit. Let’s go.”

I rapidly handed out truck assignments, and everybody split off towards their respective rigs. Nate caught my arm. “Look,” he said in hushed tones, “about Wilder being both triage and transport officer…”

“No arguments, Nate,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m sorry you’re not happy, but…”

“It’s not for the reason you think,” said Nate. “I’ve got my problems with Terry, but that’s not what this is about. The thing is, he’s the best EMT out here, except maybe for me. Making him transport officer basically means he’s not doing patient care, and if this gets bad we’re going to need him.”

“All the on-scene care will be for nothing if we don’t get people where they can be helped,” I said. “I don’t trust Stacy, Jessie, or Scott to keep it all straight. It’s Terry or you. You’re both good EMTs, but you’ve got experience on him. That might just make a difference in keeping people alive, so I want you on patient care no matter what.”

Nate thought about that for a moment, gave me a respectful nod, and trotted off for his rig.

Minutes later we were huddled in our ambulances, waiting and listening to the radio chatter as the cops closed in on the old building. The police had been joined by Fronse’s one underling on the Bronning force, a part-time cop named Wes Hamilton. Wes had been in Melville when George got in touch with him, and drove back as fast as his Chevy Malibu could be pushed.

Nate and Brian had wanted to be outside, where they could at least try to see what was happening, but I nixed the idea. It was safer in the ambulances, and I didn’t want them already chilled if they ended up having to do any patient care outdoors.

I’d split my forces into three crews. The rescue ambulance had Brian Severson and Scott O’Brian; an EMR and an EMT. The lowest-acuity patients would go there. If the rig ended up having to transport, there would be an EMT to take the back, and an EMR to drive. Rig One would consist of Nate Hauss, Terry Wilder, and Brenda Smith. With Brenda driving that put the two best EMTs in the back, making for the most effective possible BLS truck if there were more high-acuity patients than I could handle. Rig Two would be Stacy Logan, Jessie Kramer and me. Jessie was inexperienced, and Stacy was, as Terry had once memorably proclaimed, a twit… but either of them would make an acceptable assistant for me while the other drove.

I could see Terry in the shotgun seat of the other ambulance, talking into his phone. I guessed he was preemptively checking status with emergency departments and EMS services, and possibly flight. Smart lad.

PD was in the building now. They reported that the place had been cleaned, tables had been set up, and there was portable light and heat equipment in several rooms. But nobody was there. The quiet radio chatter as they cleared one room after another did nothing for my nerves.

Suddenly Wes Hamilton’s voice crackled through on the radio, low and tense. “Bronning PD Two to Chief One.”

“Go for Chief.” George.

“We’ve got seven kids in here, boss. Last room at the end of the east hallway. Teenagers; three girls and four boys. They’re tied up, hands and feet both, and they’re not very responsive. I think they’re all breathing, but there’s something wrong with them. We’ve gotta get ‘em out of here.”

I tensed. Sitting next to me in the shotgun seat, Stacy Logan bit her lip. I could hear Jessie shifting around in the back.

The radio crackled. “Anything else in the room?” George wanted to know.

“Affirmative. There’s some crates stacked against the wall, a big pile of something under a tarp, and a bunch of different colored pressure cylinders. What about the kids, Chief?”

“We’re on it,” said Fronse. “We just cleared the last room on the ground floor. I’m posting a guard at the basement stairway, and we’ll get the kids out before we go down there. Fire, please bring the pickup and the Rangers to the main door. We’ll lay as many in the back of the pickup as we can fit, put the rest in the Rangers, and haul them over to the EMS cold zone. Come in with soft cots, backboards, and plenty of bodies. Let’s not drop these kids getting them outside.”

I picked up the mic. “Medic to Chief One.”

“Go for Chief.”

“Let’s make sure everyone is keeping an eye on the kids‘ airways. If somebody doesn’t look like they’re breathing well, try repositioning. Make sure the airways are clear. If you can, transport them lying on their sides. If you’re not sure if someone is breathing, check for a carotid pulse.”

“Copy that,” said Fronse. “Folks, you heard the lady. Let’s get everybody out of there alive. Fire, go ahead and move in.”

Terry’s voice issued forth from the radio. “Bronning ambulance to Franklin County.”

“Go ahead, Bronning.”

“We are about to receive seven high-acuity patients; teenagers with an altered level of consciousness. Cause unknown at this time, but we only have one ALS crew. I need five ALS ambulances paged; two from Johnstown, and one each from Jordan, Melville and Perry. Some will be intercepting, and some might have to come all the way to the scene. Can you give me a separate county channel to coordinate with them on?”

“Copy that, Bronning. Take FC4 to coordinate with ALS crews. Did you want us to check the status of flight?”

“Negative; I’ve already checked,” said Terry. “Both Lifelink and North are a no-go for weather.”

“Copy that, Bronning.”

As I listened to the flurry of ambulances being paged out to our location, I couldn’t help but be impressed by how well Terry had the transport situation under control. He really would make a great director.

“Bronning ambulance Rig One to Rig Two,” said Terry.

“Go for Rig Two,” I replied.

“Can you handle two patients if it turns out to be the recent overdose symptoms?”

“Affirmative.”

“Are we considering the Rescue rig as a transporting unit if push comes to shove?”

You read my mind. “Affirmative. They have a licensed EMT in the back; that’ll have to be good enough.”

“Copy that,” said Terry. “You’ll roll for Melville with two. I’m having the rig from Melville come all the way to the scene because their travel time is a little less than the others, and Rig One will roll with one patient towards Johnstown for an intercept with Thormleton. I’m reserving options on the Rescue rig and remaining ALS rigs until we get a look at the patients. I’m thinking I should remain on scene and direct traffic.”

“Copy,” I said. “Remain on scene. You’re doing great, Terry–”

A tremendous thunderclap rang out through the valley. Even in the vehicles, we felt the vibrations as the ground shook. Jessie let out a small yelp from the back, and Stacy’s eyes went wide.

“What the hell?” she said.

“Chief One to all units still inside the building, say your status!” Fronse’s voice barked out over the radio.

“Chief, this is PD Two,” a choked, gasping voice came back. “We have casualties in here. D-don’t know how bad. There’s a lot of smoke and dust, and I can’t see much. I – I’m hurt, Chief, can’t move my leg…”

“We’ll have people coming in for you,” said Fronse. “Anybody inside who can walk, get out of there now! We’ll send fresh teams in to extract the wounded. Chief One to Bronning Medic, we’ve had an explosion in the building. Four of the kids were still inside, along with two officers and eight firefighters. The kids we extracted appear to be coming around, so we’re going to wait until we have more people out to send them your way. Stand by.”

“We copy, Chief,” I said. “Standing by.” I switched channels on my portable. “Bronning Medic to EMS team.”

“Rig One,” Nate responded.

“Rescue,” said Scott.

“Sounds like we’ve got some trauma coming our way. As they show up, the triage officer will evaluate them before they’re unloaded from whatever they’re being transported in. His decisions on treatment priority are final. Everybody stay in your rigs until the first casualties arrive. Any last-minute questions?”

“Rig One copies, no questions,” said Nate.

“Rescue, no questions.”

I worked to keep my outward demeanor calm, and I think I was successful, but my guts were in knots. My father was amongst the firefighters who had approached the building.

We didn’t have long to wait. Barely a few minutes went by before the yellow pickup barreled through the entrance to the pit, jouncing on its stiff suspension. Two Ranger ATVs followed. I could see people sitting up in the back of the Rangers. I popped the door of the rig and slid to the ground, noting as I did that the remainder of my staff were piling out of their trucks as well.

“Go time, people!” I called out, as the pickup swung around behind the ambulances and shuddered to a halt. “Triage officer out front!”

Terry was already moving, approaching the back of the pickup at a fast walk. A firefighter perched in the bed of the pickup hopped over the side and lowered the tailgate.

“Can I have everyone’s attention,” Terry bellowed as he reached the tailgate. “Any injured people who can walk, go around to the passenger side of the pickup and hold tight. We’ll get to you as soon as we can.” Catching Jessie Kramer’s arm, he pressed a bundle of green armbands into her palm. “Give these to the walking wounded so we know who they are.”

The injured in the Rangers got out, then made their way around to the side of the truck. Some were limping, others were clutching their arms, and I could see signs of minor bleeding. Jessie gave the handful of tags to one of the men there, along with a few words of instruction. The man passed the tags around, and the walking wounded began wrapping them around each other’s arms. The Ranger drivers pulled away, headed back for the old brick building to collect more wounded.

I turned my attention to the pickup, where all of the critical cases appeared to be. A number of bodies were in the back, some strapped to longboards, others with soft stretchers beneath them. Terry and two firefighters were standing in my way, so I couldn’t get a good count or identify any of the people there.

The firefighters pulled one of the victims from the pickup bed and onto the tailgate, where Terry had placed his triage kit. Nate tried to press forward, but I placed a restraining hand on his arm. The man on the tailgate was conscious. Terry spoke briefly to him in a low voice as he quickly examined a wound on the left leg. He wrapped a yellow tag around the wrist, indicating an injury that was serious but not immediately life-threatening.

“Rescue rig,” he said briskly, and two firefighters closed in along with the Rescue rig’s crew. The four of them picked up the backboard where the man lay and carried it off toward the ancient rescue ambulance. Another was moved to the tailgate. It was Del Williams, the firefighter who had driven the ambulance on the Jason Bixley call. He was bleeding profusely from an arm wound, and seemed to be unresponsive. Terry shoved a tourniquet at Brian Severson, who was standing by his side, and vigorously rubbed the sternum. Del stirred a little and opened his eyes. As Brian tightened the tourniquet, Terry wrapped a red tag around the arm.

“Rig One,” he said. Nate stepped forward, and Terry put a hand on his arm.

“Take this one to Melville,” said Terry. “There’s an intercept coming from there, but if he’s stable don’t use it. We’re going to need more trucks than we have.” Nate nodded once, took up one of the longboard handles, and with the help of Brian and two others bore the man away. Stacy stepped forward to take Brian’s place as Terry’s assistant.

The next victim was pulled back to the tailgate, and my heart froze in my chest. The man on the soft stretcher was my father. Most of his shirt was in tatters, angry burns swathed his chest, and his face had taken on a waxy, grayish hue. Terry placed two fingers on the neck, feeling around for a carotid pulse as he bent his ear close to the mouth, listening for breathing. Casting a quick, pained glance back at me, he wrapped a black tag around the arm.

“Black,” he said.

It hit me like a punch to the gut. No. No. NO.

“Wait,” Stacy said urgently, turning back to look at me. “Nettie… they said all these people were breathing when they pulled them out. There might be time…”

My vision swam. It was an effort to think. Daddy! my mind screamed. It took every ounce of discipline I possessed to push it aside.

“Black, goddammit!” I shouted.

Gentle hands lifted my father from the tailgate, laying him in the grass off to the side even as the next victim was brought forward.

As he assessed the next patient, Terry spoke sidelong to Stacy. “Get off my triage,” he told her, his voice ice-cold. Stacy stumbled back, looking hurt and offended. Terry was wrapping a red band around an arm.

“Hey, Terry,” Nate was calling from the back of his rig. “Del’s awake, and his BP’s solid. I could take one more if it’s non-critical.”

“Stand by, then,” Terry called back. “Rig two,” he told the attendant firefighters, indicating the patient in front of him. I blinked in surprise; the young lady in question was none other than Samantha Jensen, who I’d almost lost on that hellish ride to Melville. My jaw clenched. Goddamn it, girl… wasn’t one bad trip enough for you? One of the firefighters was holding pressure on her abdomen with a big dressing, which was thoroughly saturated with blood. Terry turned toward me.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, and I’m seeing signs of smoke inhalation, Nettie,” he said. “She needs to go ALS, and she needs to go now. Can you do this?”

My eyes narrowed. I hated the look of pity on his face.

“Stacy, Jessie, let’s go,” I snapped. “Stacy, you’re driving.”

“Roll for Johnstown,” Terry called after us.

As I entered through the side door of my rig, I caught a glimpse of the Rangers swinging back through the entrance to the auction pit, more victims sprawled in the back. I turned my eyes away, not wanting to see who was in those Rangers. I thought that if I had to look at one more person I knew who’d been fucked up, I would scream. I slammed the door, then dropped heavily onto the bench seat.

On to Chapter Eleven!

By C. Cat

Amanda spent the morning with Miss Cindy while the movers delivered the last of her things. They mostly worked on administrative issues and final plans for the new year, but also took the time to enjoy a heated fuck on the office sofa. Afterward they nestled naked on the thick carpet, where Miss Cindy insisted on hearing every detail of Amanda’s night of sexual abandon with Jordan.

Once they were dressed Amanda felt a bit light-headed, and her pussy was still tingling, but she was still very anxious to get back to Fairy House and see her girls.

***

“Mommy Amanda! You’re back!” Annie yelped when Amanda made her entrance. The eight-year-old ran to get a hug from her beloved house mother.

“Ooooh, I missed my little muffin!” Amanda said as she took the child in her arms, “I hope you’ve been a good girl.”

“I’ve been very good. Ask Clair… I always do what she asks me!”

Clair was just twelve herself, but had a special fondness for the younger girls who clearly appreciated her special methods of babysitting… which often involved baby oil and as few clothes as possible.

“Then you should come to my room tonight and get a special reward,” She kissed the girl on the lips while giving her bottom a squeeze. “But you’d better be careful… I might gobble you up!” Annie burst into a fit of giggles as Amanda nibbled her neck.

With one final kiss, she finally put the girl down. “So, what are you planning to do today?”

“Katie an’ Rayne asked Willow and me to dance with them at a picnic in the gardens, an’ maybe go to the old cottage after that to play!”

Amanda smiled, pleased to see how the little one was really starting to come out of her shell. When she’d first met Annie, the child was so bashful she hardly spoke. Since then, Amanda had regularly encouraged the eight-year-old to be more outgoing. “That sounds like fun, but you’d better run along and get ready. We don’t want to keep our guests waiting!” She gave Annie a playful spank on her bottom as the girl left the room, squealing with laughter.

Several hours later, Amanda was just finishing up some paperwork when she heard a knock on her door frame. Ten-year-old Willow, a coltish little girl with long red hair, charming freckles, and a cute little button nose stood in the entrance.

“You know you don’t need to knock if my door is open…” Amanda began, but immediately went quiet as she saw the urgent expression on the girl’s face.

“I’m sorry, Mummy Amanda,” Willow said, “We found a sprite down in the woods. She’s really scared and, and crying. I think something bad happened to her. We’re taking her to the cottage… Katie, Rayne, and Annie are with her now. Can you come?”

At Latchmore, children did sometimes get lost on the grounds, usually a case of little girls getting distracted and wandering off. Usually, they were found and reunited with their families within a matter of minutes. “Sprites,” on the other hand, was the fairies’ code word for girls who had run away from home.

Little girls wanting to leave home and join the fairies wasn’t an especially rare occurrence. Most of the time a friendly chat with a fairy or house mother would persuade these youngsters to let themselves be returned to their homes. Still, there were rare cases where the child was escaping an abusive situation, so finding a stray sprite was something everyone at Latchmore took very seriously.

“We were dancing for some guests near the fountains,” Willow said as they hastened toward the cottage, “but we headed back when it began to rain. We went down the path through the enchanted woods to the cottage, to wait there until the rain stopped…”

***

As the girls walked down the trail, Annie thought she heard something over the patter of rain in the trees. She froze, squatted down low, and listened. The other girls instantly followed suit. Listening without being seen was a crucial skill for the fairies to master.

Annie listened even harder. There it was again… and this time, it sounded like weeping.

Just a few metres down the path, there was a patch of giant rhubarb, its huge leaves making something of a cave. Annie peered inside and, in the shadows protected from the rain, there was a little blonde girl of no more than seven or eight, dressed in a makeshift fairy outfit.

Looking up, the girl’s eyes were full of tears, but they went wide with fear when she saw Annie. “P-please, Miss Fairy,” she whimpered, “don’t make me g-go back.”

Annie moved closer to kneel beside the girl as her sisters peered in from the opening. “What’s your name?”

“Maisie,” the girl said between sobs as the other girls gathered around her.

Rayne spoke up. “Don’t be afraid, Maisie. We’ll take care of you. There’s a place near here that’s very safe… will you come with us?”

Annie extended hand and the girl clutched it tightly. She was trembling with fear, but meekly allowed the fairy to lead her down the path.

***

Maisie was still agitated when Amanda arrived at the cottage. She seemed to shrink even smaller at the sight of the woman.

“It’s okay,” Willow said. “Mummy Amanda is a Fairy Mother… you can trust her.”

The girl was still visibly nervous, but her faith in the fairies won out, so she didn’t shy away when Amanda sat down on a stool next to her.

“Annie is right, sweetheart. You’re safe here with us. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

There was anguish and indecision on the girl’s face. She clearly wanted to talk, but was afraid to. “I’m not s’posed to say,” Maisie mumbled, her eyes pleading for help.

Annie knelt beside the shivering girl, taking her hand. “I get scared sometimes, too,” she said, “but Mommy Amanda always makes it better… always.”

Taking her fairy necklace off, she slipped it over Maisie’s head. “This is a special necklace,” Annie said, showing her the charm with its interlocking fairy wings. “Whenever I get scared, I like to hold it and I know I’m safe.”

Maisie nodded. She was still trembling, but clutching the charm seemed to give her confidence. “It’s my mother and her n-new boyfriend,” the girl began, “they… they make me do bad things.”

Amanda thought about sending the other girls away so they wouldn’t have to hear this. No, she decided, it’s not the Latchmore way. This is something young girls need to be aware of. Besides, this poor child needs to be comforted, and I’ll need help with that.

The girl’s story was a woeful one. Maisie described being forced into sex acts against her will, of being bullied into posing naked for pictures and videos, of getting loaned out to the boyfriend’s mates for money. “They take lots of drugs,” she said. “Mummy told Mick that…” her lower lip trembled, “… that I was their ‘cash cow,’ and long as they had me, it would be easy for them to g-get high.” She began to sob again.

Maisie’s account seemed to impact Annie more than the others, but even with tears welling up in her eyes, she wouldn’t leave the sorrowful child’s side. Amanda somehow managed to hold back her own tears, but she felt an immense pride at how brave little Annie was when it was needed.

As the fairies clustered around the young girl, Amanda slipped outside to call Miss Cindy, quickly punching the number into her cell phone.

Even before Miss Cindy spoke, Amanda could hear angry shouts in the background. She couldn’t make out all the words, but one of the voices belonged to a woman who was threatening Miss Cindy with what would happen if they didn’t find and return her daughter.

Oh, my God, Amanda realised. That must be her. Maisie’s mum.

“Amanda?” said Cindy. “Listen, have you seen a lost girl–”

“I have. Can we talk in private?” Amanda quickly replied.

“One moment…” She heard Miss Cindy say to someone else, “Excuse me, I’ve got to take this,” then the office door was shut, muffling the loud voices. “What’s the matter, Amanda?”

“This girl… is her name Maisie?”

“Yes! You’ve found her, then?”

“We have,” Amanda replied, “but we daren’t give her back. She’s suffered serious sexual abuse – and the mother is involved. Her boyfriend as well.”

“Ugh. Can’t say I’m surprised… With all her yelling and threats, not once has she suggested calling the police. That’s never good. I’ve already called Detective Inspector Bennett, though… I’ll ring her back and have her go straight to the cottage. What shape is the girl in?”

“Scared, but healthy and safe – at least for now.”

***

DI Sarah Bennett was a tall and fit woman with a distinct military bearing – far more imposing than pretty, but still attractive. Maybe Amanda had seen too many TV detective programmes, but she expected a policewoman with that kind of demeanour to be competent and professional, but also cold and unemotional. In fact, when speaking to Bennett, Amanda was impressed by the woman’s genuine warmth.

Maisie took to her instantly and under Sarah’s careful query, repeated her story with very little prompting. In spite of the tears welling up in her eyes and her voice cracking, she managed to answer every question, clutching Annie’s necklace tightly all the while.

“What a brave girl you are,” Sarah said with a reassuring smile. “I can’t make the hurt go away, but I’m going to take you someplace where you’ll be safe.”

Maisie threw both arms around the inspector and held her tightly, letting her tears flow until she cried herself to sleep.

***

That evening, DI Bennett had phoned Miss Cindy to confirm that Maisie was safe, the mother and boyfriend were in custody and, from the look of if, more arrests were expected in the coming days.

Amanda was relieved to hear the news, but inside she was torn up. She sat on the corner of the bed, face in her hands, and wept. Whenever she closed her eyes, there was little Maisie’s face, her features etched with suffering. Am I really so different from that girl’s horrid mother?

“Are you okay, Mummy Amanda?” came a little voice from the doorway. Amanda glanced up to see Annie, a look of concern on her sweet brown face.

Sniffing back her tears, she managed a smile. “Yes, sweetie, I’ll be okay. It’s just… thinking about Maisie made me feel sad. I was so proud of you, though,” she added, patting the bed next to her. “The way you helped us take care of her… it really made a difference.”

Annie seated herself next to Amanda, resting against the older woman. “I was sad, too, but then Miss Cindy an’ the police lady said she was gonna be okay.”

Amanda nodded. “Maisie’s out of that awful situation with her mother, but she’s been through a lot. It’s going to be difficult for her… hopefully, not for very long.”

“That’s why I gived her my necklace, Mummy Amanda. It helped me when I was, umm…”

“What, dearest?”

Annie gave a heavy sigh. “Before I came here, bad things happened to me, too. Like what Maisie told us about.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Amanda hugged the little girl, holding her close. “I’m sorry I didn’t know, but that makes what you did today even more brave.”

Annie clung to her. “I’m not so brave… still get scared sometimes…”

“Me too,” Amanda mumbled. “But this is what scares me most.” She paused, then came out with it. “Oh, Annie, my angel, what if I’m hurting girls with – with the things we do here at Latchmore? Could I be just as bad as Maisie’s mum?” Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“No! No, you aren’t!” Annie protested, squeezing her house mother even tighter. “They were mean to me… just wanted what they wanted, an’ it made me hurt! You give me good feelings… and the other girls, too. We know you love us – an’ we love you, too, Mummy Amanda. Lots an’ lots!”

Amanda bent down to kiss Annie’s cheek. “Thank you, Annie… that helps, it really does.”

They sat for a long time, holding each other until Annie spoke in a small voice. “Can I still sleep here tonight? It’s okay if we just cuddle.”

Amanda hugged her young lover again. “Of course, little one… now why don’t you run along and play with the others. I’ll see you when it’s bedtime.”

“Okay!” The girl chirped before springing up and scampering out of the room.

Left alone, Amanda found herself unable to completely shake those dark thoughts.

Finally getting up to carry out the evening rounds, Amanda made a point of spending a few minutes with each of her girls to hear about their day, check that all assigned chores were done, and talk about their plans for the following day before giving them each one a goodnight kiss. She needed to be sure all the girls were accounted for, if not necessarily in their own beds.

Clair had invited Annie’s roommate Ella to have a sleepover in her room, so Amanda was reassured that little Ella wouldn’t be going lonely that evening.

Thank goodness for Clair, Amanda mused. The teen genuinely cared for the younger girls and made a point of looking after them. When a little fairy skinned her knee or needed a shoulder to cry on, Clair was there to wipe the tears away. Everyone assumed she’d be a house mother herself when she came of age.

Moving along to the next room, Amanda was surprised to find Willow in bed with Katie and Rayne, and if the giggles the three girls shared on seeing they’d been “caught” weren’t enough of a clue, Willow’s pink panties on the floor and their flushed cheeks made it obvious what sort of games these fairies had been playing.

While Amanda knew her daughter and Rayne enjoyed the occasional dalliance with other girls, she was also certain that Willow was the first fairy they’d invited to join them both in their lovemaking.

On the other hand, all the girls were eager to enjoy sexy fun with Amanda. “Want to play, Mum?” Katie called, tugging the sheet down to reveal their nakedness.

“We’ve got room for one more!” Rayne exclaimed, placing a hand on her vulva in a parody of modesty that never failed to fire Amanda’s lust – and the adorable eleven-year-old was fully aware of that.

The temptation was there to unhook her dress, let it drop to the floor, climb on the bed and join these luscious nymphs in their fun and games. Forget your worries. Lose yourself in the worship of little girls and their beautiful bodies.

But Amanda was still feeling uneasy about her desires… about herself. Besides, I promised Annie, she thought. “Some other time, okay?” she said. “I’ve got to finish my rounds.” Bending down, she gave each girl a kiss on the cheek, whispered, “Good night,” then made a quiet exit.

One door down, eight-year-old roommates Emma and Lilly were sitting on the floor playing when Amanda looked in. “Shouldn’t you two be in bed?” she teased, pointing at the clock.

“We were waiting for you to take our clothes off!” said Lilly. She and Emma were clearly trying to look as cute as possible in their midriff tops and snug denim shorts.

“Fair enough.” Amanda entered the room. “Arms up!”

Both girls raised their hands high so Amanda could slip their tops up and over their heads, exposing their flat chests. They stood motionless while Amanda unbuttoned Emma’s shorts and tugged them down.

“Oh… what have we here?” Amanda exclaimed in mock surprise as Emma’s bare cunny came into view, “Looks like someone forgot to put on knickers again.”

“Oops!” Emma cried, looking anything but embarrassed.

“Now me!” Lilly yelped between giggles, then she allowed Amanda to tug her shorts down.

“You, too!” Amanda said when she discovered Lilly’s vulva was bare as well. “You both better get in bed before the bottom-spanking monster sees those cute little behinds.” She gave each one a playful pat as they dove into Lilly’s bed, erupting with giggles.

Amanda continued down the corridor. Rachel and her younger girlfriend Aiko were just getting out of the shower when she checked on their room.

“Come see Rachel’s new painting!” Aiko exclaimed with pride when she saw the house mother, making no move to cover her nudity as she pointed to a small painting that rested on a nearby easel.

Amanda moved closer, feeling a warm surge of arousal at the sight of Aiko’s silhouette, clearly done when the child was naked. “Oh, my,” she breathed. Rachel was already a talented artist, but it was still a marvel to see how flawlessly she’d managed to capture the beauty and innocence of her young lover.

“It’s incredible! You did a wonderful job, Rachel. I can tell how much you love Aiko just by looking at it.”

Both girls beamed with pride, then each hugged the woman in turn. Amanda gave them gentle kisses, then continued on her way

Avery and Zoe were already asleep by the time Amanda reached their room. They were both in Zoe’s bed with their bodies intertwined, still glowing from what had clearly been a spirited bout of lovemaking. Amanda paused a moment to take in their bare beauty before drawing the covers up and over them.

Maggie’s room was next, and Amanda was pleased to see that the perky ten-year-old wasn’t left lonely while her roommate Willow spent the night with Rayne and Katie. The little ten-year-old was seated on Naomi’s lap, her pinafore dress pulled up to the waist, knickers dangling from an ankle. Sophia’s face was buried between Maggie’s cocoa-brown legs.

“Want to have some fun with us, Mummy Amanda?” Fourteen-year-old Sophia murmured in her seductive Portuguese accent. The girl’s lips were glistening with Maggie’s nectar.

“Maybe another time, my loves,” she said. Strong as the urge was to drop to her knees and lick that pretty cunt, she was still feeling unsettled by the day’s events.

So instead she gave each girl a goodnight kiss, contenting herself with the flavour on Sophia’s lips.

Annie was waiting when Amanda returned to her room. Perched on the edge of the bed, she wore a short pink cotton nightshirt that showed off her slim legs and, somehow, managed to make her skin look even softer and creamier. A smile crept across her face when she saw Amanda’s eyes roam over her body, but she remained demure, with no hint she wanted more than the promised cuddles.

“Time for bed?” asked Annie.

“Yes, my sweet,” Amanda replied.

Annie pulled back the covers, then slipped beneath them. As she did, Amanda caught a glimpse of the child’s bare bottom and felt a pang of desire. It was familiar and somehow comforting, but she still couldn’t completely shake her worries.

Slipping her own robe off to reveal a yellow silk nightshirt, she slid into bed and wrapped both arms around Annie, who pushed herself back into Amanda, holding the woman’s arms around her. “I like this so much, Mummy,” she whispered. “You make me happy.”

It hadn’t escaped Amanda’s notice that when they were alone together, Annie tended to call her “Mummy.” I wonder if she really thinks of me as a mother? She asked herself. And a lover, too – mustn’t forget that. She planted a soft kiss on the girl’s neck. “I like this too, sweetheart.”

She felt the little girl’s body relax against hers. Somehow, it helped her to relax as well. She gave a deep, satisfying yawn, then mumbled, “I love you, Annie.”

There was no reply… and Amanda realised that the girl had already dozed off.

***

She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but it was still dark outside when Annie’s stirring woke her up. At first Amanda thought the child was dreaming, but the little mewling noises and the distinct scent of female arousal made it clear that she was very much awake.

Without even thinking, Amanda let her hand travel down the girl’s chest.

A soft “Mmm…” escaped Annie’s lips, then: “I – I know we were just gonna cuddle, Mummy… but please, please make love to me. I really want it.”

A child’s small hand took Amanda’s, then guided it to the wetness between her legs.

As Amanda nuzzled Annie’s neck, she let her fingers press against that precious little treasure, stroking the soft warmth of the girl’s inner lips. As Annie trembled under her touch, Amanda felt her own desire build, but with it came the fear she’d been grappling with ever since hearing poor Maisie’s story.

Pushing these thoughts aside, she focused on Annie, letting her fingertips dance across the little girl’s tiny clit. As she stroked and teased the tender button, her eight-year-old lover began to whimper.

A little faster, a little harder, until she felt the child’s body tense. That familiar mewing cry escaped Annie’s lips as she firmly pressed Amanda’s hand against her pudenda. Finally, with a gasp that trailed off into a moan, she relaxed.

“Thanks, Mummy,” said Annie, so quietly she could scarcely be heard. “G’night…”

“Goodnight, sweetie.” Amanda cradled the little girl to her, gently rocking to and fro until they both drifted into a blissful slumber.

***

When Amanda awakened the next morning, the sun was streaming through the window and the smell of the woods perfumed the air. As her eyes opened, she realised she was alone in bed and it was quiet – much too quiet for a house full of young girls. Pulling on a loose top and a pair of shorts, she made her way to the kitchen to find Katie seated at the table.

“Caroline dropped by to give us a special dance seminar, and all the girls are there,” Katie said, answering her mother’s unspoken question. “Annie told us you were having a rough time yesterday, so we decided to let you sleep in.” She gestured toward the counter. “There’s coffee if you want it.”

Amanda took a mug from the cabinet. “Why aren’t you at the seminar?” she asked, pouring the coffee.

“I wanted to be here when you got up, in case you needed to talk to someone.”

“I’m sorry, love, I’ll be okay,” Amanda sighed, sitting next to her daughter. “It’s just… seeing how scared little Maisie was really hit me hard. I can’t keep myself from thinking… what if I end up hurting one of you like that?”

Moving her seat closer, Katie wrapped both arms around her mother. “When I was still going to my old school, I had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t… someone who didn’t like girls. I was afraid the other kids wouldn’t like me if they knew. You helped me with that. You told me I was beautiful the way I am.” She kissed her mother’s neck. “I love you so much, Mum. But I also trust you – and so does every girl in our house. That trust is what holds Latchmore House together.”

Amanda sipped her coffee as she pondered Katie’s words. It was true – so much of the girls’ play was about trust – not only being open about their desires, but relying on their sisters to be honest about what they wanted, or didn’t want. She remembered saying goodnight to the girls mere hours ago, what a fulfilling experience it had been. They’re so happy and loving, with no guilt or shame… that really is what Latchmore house is about.

But the memory of Maisie’s anguished face continued to haunt Amanda. “I know you’re right, Katie. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking… what if I’m not able to trust myself? Or if I go too far with one of the girls? I’m scared I’m not good enough to be a house mother.” She sighed. “I’m thinking that… maybe I shouldn’t make love with you girls anymore.”

Katie hugged her even tighter. “Mum, Mum, Mum… now you’re just being ridiculous. This is about Maisie, isn’t it?” Amanda gave a reluctant nod. “Why would you even think of comparing yourself to that awful mother of hers? A woman who would sell her own child for drugs?” She shuddered. “Mum, you always told me I don’t need to be perfect, long as I do my best. The same goes for you, too, especially here.

“And as for not having sex with us… I don’t think a single one of the fairies would be happy about that. I absolutely wouldn’t.” Katie gently cupped her mum’s breast. “I won’t give you up as a lover, Mum. One way or another, we will fuck again.” Amanda moaned as her daughter scissored a nipple between two fingers. “And there’s Annie. She used to be so quiet and shy… you made her blossom like a flower. Are you really planning to break that little girl’s heart?”

She’s right, Amanda thought. Sometimes it might seem that pushing people away is the best way to protect them, but it’s not the fairy way. That’s when they need their sisters the most. AND their house mothers.

“You know, Katie,” she murmured, returning her daughter’s hug, “you’ve always had the knack for saying what I need to hear… even if you insist on quoting my own words back at me.”

“Oh, I need the practice. Rayne and I want to get married and have a family of our own someday… and we both want to be just like you.”

“Sweetheart, you and Rayne will be incredible mothers.” Gazing into her daughter’s eyes, they shared a soft and gentle kiss that quickly deepened.

Finally Katie broke away, her eyes flashing with desire. “God, Mum… I want to take you back to my room and fuck you silly. But… why don’t you walk me to the dance seminar instead. I happen to know a sweet little girl there who is totally in love with you, and she needs to know you feel the same way about her.”

“Let me put on my shoes,” Amanda said.

As they set off, Katie turned to her mother. “You’re going to tell Miss Caroline today, right? What we talked about?”

“Down, girl,” Amanda laughed. “Yes, I will.”

The teen clapped her hands. “Cool! God, I can’t wait until Friday!” She seized her mum’s hand, gave it a squeeze. “I’m gonna be watching her face when you break the news. Should be interesting…”

When the two arrived at the studio, Caroline Scott was busy leading a room full of lovely young girls in movement exercises. Amanda’s thoughts drifted to a similar sight from just a few months earlier. She still felt the same thrill looking at the girls in their leotards and leggings, but the fear and guilt had gone.

Even better yet, she saw the beaming smile on little Annie’s face when their eyes met. Much as she tried not to play favourites, Katie was right – Annie had a special place in her heart. Not only was she an incredibly sweet girl, she was cute and sexy as could be with her slim body in a light pink leotard, sheer lace skirt, and knit leg warmers that rose up above her knees.

“Miss Caroline,” Katie said as the dance instructor gave the girls a break and came to greet them, “Do you mind if Annie misses the rest of class today? Mummy really needs her.”

“Does she now?” Caroline said with an eyebrow raised and a wink. “I suppose we can get by without her, but you two will both need to come in for extra practice on our routine.” She glanced over at the brown-skinned cutie, who was already bouncing up and down at the sight of her grownup lover. “Tell her we’ll be waiting here while she gets changed.”

“Yes, Miss Caroline,” Katie said before running to tell Annie the news, then joining the other girls.

“And how are you, love?” Caroline reached out for Amanda’s hand as Annie hastened from the room.

“Oh… wonderful, actually. I’ve missed you, though. It’s been too long.”

Caroline laughed. “Well… that’s what I get for getting involved with a woman mere days before she becomes a house mother at Latchmore.” She looked around the room. “A life surrounded by all this sweet, sweet girl candy… Honestly, I can’t imagine how you get anything done.”

Drawing nearer, Amanda murmured, “How’d you like a taste of that candy for yourself?”

Caught off guard, Caroline stared at her occasional lover. “Do tell.”

Amanda glanced about, making sure no one was in earshot before she spoke. “Well, you recall me telling you that Katie and I have… become intimate, yes?”

“Recall? It’s been my favourite masturbation fantasy ever since you told me,” Caroline replied.

“Well, here’s something new for you to jill off about. Katie wants to invite you to our place this Friday for a little get-together. I’m spending that night at home.”

“A threesome? My God, yes, you lovely bitch.”

Amanda shook her head. “A foursome, actually. Katie’s new lover wants to be there, too.”

“New lover…?” Caroline glanced over at the girls. “Would that be the luscious redhead who happens to be holding your daughter’s hand at this moment?”

“That’s Rayne,” Amanda replied. “She and Katie are absolutely smitten with one another. They’re already making wedding plans.”

“Oh, yes, they’re in love… you can see it from a mile away.” Caroline turned back to Amanda. “I accept your kind invitation. What time do the festivities begin?”

“Dinner at seven… then dessert for the rest of the night.”

Caroline snickered. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Fine by me. You can leave your knickers at home, though.”

Leaning in to give her lover’s ear a playful nip, the dance instructor whispered, “Funny girl.”

***

Once Amanda and Annie had wandered back through Latchmore to their house, they made their way up to Amanda’s room, where they sat side by side on the bed, holding hands.

“I was very sad yesterday,” Amanda said. “I’m sorry if it made you feel unhappy, sweetheart.”

“That’s okay, Mummy,” the child replied. “I know you were feeling bad. I was just afraid you… you might not want to play with me anymore.” Annie’s expression was sorrowful.

“Oh, love, I wanted to be with you as much as ever,” Amanda said, giving Annie’s hand a squeeze. “It’s just that… see, after Maisie told us about that horrid mum of hers, I got myself tied up in knots. I felt afraid I might hurt you or one of the other girls without meaning to when I was sexually excited. Katie and I had a talk, though, and it helped quite a lot. I still might get scared sometimes… but if I remind myself of how much I love you girls, I should be able to cope with it.”

Annie thought for a bit, then nodded. “Well, when I was scared, you said kisses made it better.” She gave Amanda her sweetest, most innocent smile. “Can we try that?”

Amanda had to laugh. “The other girls said you were smart, but they didn’t warn me you could be sneaky, too.” She took a moment to gaze into Annie’s lovely brown eyes, then moved in for her kiss.

It was soft and gentle at first. Then as their bodies pressed together, the passion of their kiss began to build, and Amanda felt the familiar warmth rising inside. A prickle of fear also made itself known, but she thrust it away, centering her full attention on Annie.

She traced kisses over the girl’s cheeks and down her neck, enjoying the little murmuring noises that Annie made as she relaxed into her grownup lover’s embrace, ready and waiting to be taken further. Slipping the thin top off the child’s shoulders, Amanda moved lower, brushing Annie’s warm, soft skin with her lips.

Glancing up, she saw the hunger in the eight-year-old’s eyes. “Please don’t stop,” Annie whispered.

In reply, Amanda gave Annie’s top another little tug. This time it slipped down far enough to expose the girl’s flat chest. Letting Annie fall back on the bed, the woman showered her upper half with tender kisses, pausing to suck each tiny nipple.

“Mmmm, I like that. Can you take your top off?” Annie asked.

“Of course, my love.” Sitting up, Amanda reached for the hem of her blouse, which she pulled up and off, then tossed to one side. A flick of her bra clasp exposed the woman’s breasts.

“I love your titties,” Annie cooed. “So nice an’ soft…” She ran her hands over them, exploring every curve and contour, then plucking at the swollen nipples. “Can I kiss them?”

“Oh, sweetie… if we’re making love, you don’t have to ask my permission for anything. If you want to kiss my breasts, go right ahead.”

“I will, then!” Annie exclaimed. She buried her face in Amanda’s chest, purring happily as she nuzzled the creamy globes. Seeking out a nipple, she took it into her mouth to suckle.

“My love,” Amanda whispered, cradling the little girl’s face to her.

Abruptly releasing the woman’s nipple, Annie gazed up at Amanda, “Have you ever played with Miss Caroline’s titties? One time when I was touching my cunny, I pretended I was watching you and her do sex stuff… is it okay if I do that?”

“Mmmm, of course it’s okay,” Amanda moaned. “And yes, sweetie… I have touched her titties, and all the rest of her, too. I bet she’d love to join us in bed some time.”

I’d like that!” Annie said, her hands still busy fondling her house mother’s breasts. “She has nice big ones, but I think yours are my favourites. I want mine to look like these.”

Eager to see more of her young lover, Amanda slipped the girl’s top off completely, baring her slim waist and flat stomach. “Yours are going to be beautiful… just like the rest of you.” She kissed the tip of Annie’s nose. “Like you are now.”

“Do you ever, y’know… think sexy things about me? Like I do about you?”

“Maybe…” Amanda said slyly. “Last night, I might’ve thought about watching a certain brown-eyed cutie go down on her roommate.”

Annie shivered. “Ooohhh! Ella would really like that, letting you watch us… Willow and Maggie would too, I bet. Maybe you could watch us all do sex at the same time!”

“It sounds like there’s a lot for us to try, doesn’t it? Maybe we need to start a list. You know, Caroline asked me how on earth I ever got any sleep, being the house mother to all you sexy little girls… I’m starting to wonder about that myself!”

Annie giggled as Amanda trailed kisses down her body, all the while caressing the child everywhere she could reach. Annie’s shorts were in the way, however. Taking hold of the waistband, Ananda slid them down, past the girl’s firm, round bottom, then took them off completely, her heart skipping a beat when she saw that Annie wasn’t wearing knickers.

“Surprise!” Annie squealed. “I took them off after dance practice. Did I do good?”

“Very good,” murmured Amanda.

The sight of a girl’s intimate flower never seemed to get old for her. It always felt like she was seeing it for the first time. Brown on the outside, pink on the inside, it resembled a rich, exotic dessert. Amanda reached out to touch the bare slit, pleased to find it moist with the dew of arousal. Drawing closer, she breathed in, sighing with pleasure at the familiar aroma. She filled her nostrils once more, basking in the moment for a few heartbeats before moving in for a kiss.

“Ohhh!” Annie gasped as Amanda’s lips grazed her sex. “That’s s-so nice!”

Sliding her hands under Annie’s bottom, Amanda held the girl in place while she licked and sucked at the beautiful brown and pink cleft in a frenzy of lust. There would be time enough for slow, gentle lovemaking in the days to come, but in this moment she needed to feed her hunger without restraint.

Annie wrapped her legs around Amanda’s neck, winding her fingers into the woman’s hair as she felt those good feelings grow inside her, getting closer, closer still, nearly there…

“Yes, Mummy! Yes!” Annie cried, trembling from head to toe.

Knowing her little lover was on the verge of release, Amanda sought out the button of Annie’s clitoris with her index finger while she continued to lick that juicy cunt. The lower half of her face was dripping with the child’s juices, overwhelming her senses with its intoxicating flavour and scent.

With one last guttural cry, Annie let go, nearly passing out as she rode the feeling of rapture to the edge and beyond. Finally, she went completely limp. Stretching out alongside the panting child, Amanda took Annie into her arms.

Any lover could be forgiven for needing a rest after such an intense climax, but Annie was too eager for more to relax for very long. Once she’d regained her breath, the girl popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “My turn, Mummy!” she exclaimed.

Rolling Amanda onto her back, Annie worked hard to get the woman’s shorts and panties down and off. That accomplished, the child pushed her grownup lover’s legs apart, then flopped down on her tummy between them.

“I love your pussy, Mummy,” she said as she stroked the outer lips. “It’s the prettiest one I’ve ever seen.”

Amanda looked down to see Annie give her a big toothy smile before lowering her head to gently lick the length of her slit. “Mmmm… you’re yummy, too,” she added, licking her lips before lowering her head for another taste.

Tiny jolts of pleasure coursed through Amanda’s body as the girl’s tongue poked and prodded, delved and thrust, Annie spreading her lips open and swirling her tongue around inside her, then gently teasing the clit while sliding three fingers deep inside. Amanda kicked her shorts away from the left ankle, then twined her legs around the girl.

For a girl so young, Annie was a prodigy at the art of lovemaking. Each new touch sent a wave of ecstasy flowing deep into her core.

“Ohhhhh!” she cried out. “That’s right! Lick Mummy, j-just like that! Fuck! Oh, girl, you’re amazing.”

Through Amanda’s cries, it was the word “Mummy” that stood out most to Annie. She adored this lovely, sweet, caring woman, and wanted to think of her as the mother she’d longed for but never had. Show how much you love her, the child told herself. Give her all the best feelings. She burrowed even further between Amanda’s thighs, her tongue working feverishly on the woman’s clit.

“Fuck, yes!” Amanda wailed as the intensifying waves built inside, lifting her to the height of euphoria. “Oh, Annie! Oh, my love!” She clenched her legs together and, with one last look at the eager little girl nestled between her legs, let herself go.

Annie felt the woman’s tension and release, the juices flowing from her spasming cunt, but she kept licking until Amanda pushed her head away, pleading, “No more, sweetie.”

As the sounds of the afternoon drifted through the open window, Amanda and Annie lay together for a long, blissful while, sharing sleepy kisses every now and then.

***

About eight months had passed since Amanda became a house mother for Latchmore, and Katie joined the fairies. Mum and daughter agreed – this truly was where they belonged. There were all the ups and downs that could be expected in a house full of girls, but they loved practically every minute of it.

Amanda had grown close to all her girls and shared a bed with each of them more than once, but what she shared with Annie would always be special. Far from feeling jealousy, the other girls were happy for them both. For Annie’s ninth birthday, the occupants of Amanda’s house arranged with Miss Cindy to send the two of them on a weekend getaway to a little bed and breakfast by the sea, run by a former fairy and her wife.

Thoughts of Maisie continued to cross Amanda’s mind, so it was an enormous relief to learn the girl was safe in a foster home. And she was positively ecstatic some months later at the news that Maisie had been adopted by a lesbian couple. Knowing Miss Cindy had used her influence and connections to help get the child settled, it wasn’t much of a surprise to hear that Latchmore was to host a celebration for Maisie and her new mommies.

The weather would be perfect, so the fairies pitched in to prepare the meadow for the event. There were pretty decorations, a sumptuous meal, all kinds of treats, and plenty of space to dance and play games.

On the day of celebration, Amanda was waiting with the girls of her house, hand in hand with Annie. Her daughter Katie was nearby, along with her lover Rayne. It was a private gathering, but a few special guests had been invited – including Caroline and Jordan, who had met, fallen in love and moved in together. They were planning to marry once Jordan graduated from university, but still managed to occasionally share their bed with Amanda, her daughter and a few of the Latchmore girls.

Just as the old clock struck noon, the guest of honour arrived.

“Maisie!” Annie yelped when she saw the little blonde girl.

“Annie!” the girl squealed, her eyes wide with excitement as they came together in a hug. She recognized Katie, Rayne, and Willow as well, and was happy to meet all the other girls, but it was clear that Annie would always be her special fairy.

Amanda let the girls finish exchanging greetings, then knelt before Maisie. Far from the scared little waif she remembered, this child was a beauty with a beaming smile, looking like a princess in her party dress with Annie’s fairy necklace round her neck.

“Do you remember me, sweetie?” Amanda asked.

“Yes, Mommy Amanda!“ she exclaimed. “Thank you so much… for, for everything!” Amanda felt tears well up in her eyes as the little girl threw both arms around her.

“This is Maisie’s new mummy Sasha,” Miss Cindy said as Amanda stood and wiped her eyes, “and I think you’ve met her other mum before. Her name is Emily.”

Even after all this time, the resemblance was unmistakable. Amanda was struck speechless as she gazed into the eyes of her own fairy – the one who had made love to her when she was a little girl of nine on her very first visit to Latchmore, nearly twenty-five years ago.

A sob escaped Amanda’s throat as she opened her arms, and the two women met in a loving embrace.

“Thank you, Emily,” Amanda whispered. “You gave me a precious gift… one that changed my life for the better.” Pulling away, she added, “I can’t believe it’s possible, but you’re even more beautiful now.” Turning to Emily’s wife, she took Sasha’s hand. “Congratulations… you’ve got an incredible wife.”

“I know,” Sasha replied. She was tall and willowy, with curly brunette hair and glasses. “And now we’ve got an extraordinary little girl.” She bent down to hug Maisie, and their lips met in a brief but impassioned kiss.

Amanda felt warm all over at the sight. “Oh, my…”

Emily placed a hand on Amanda’s arm. “We were just talking about Maisie’s schooling for next term… and all three of us agree that the best place for her by far would be Latchmore.”

“I never had the chance to be a fairy,” Sasha murmured, glancing around the meadow, smiling at the pretty girls, “and I regret it now. It makes me want that for Maisie all the more.”

“And with you as the house mother, I was hoping she might stay at Fairy House,“ Emily said. “We think it would be the perfect place for a girl like her.” She smiled. “Believe me, she’ll fit in perfectly.”

Annie’s eyes went wide when she realised what the adults were getting at. “Ooooh, yes! Please, Mommy Amanda, can Maisie be a fairy?”

Amanda looked at Miss Cindy, wondering if she’d somehow managed to arrange this.

“I may have helped get Sasha and Emily selected as her foster parents…” Cindy answered without being asked, “but the rest happened on its own.” She laughed. “What can I say? Far be it for me to question fairy magic!”

The End

Afterword from C. Cat: As a fan of this site first-and-foremost, My favorite stories have been the ones that blur the line between fantasies and what might be true. I’d often find myself thinking about what else could happen in those particular worlds. This story was one of those “what-ifs” inspired by a story I read here along with a visit to a particular garden. Because of that, I always thought of Latchmore as a place where other stories could play out too. I have at least one more story to tell about the place, but I’m sure there are others — whether I tell them or not.