Business as Unusual
Chapter 26

Copyright© 2017 by autofocus

Sex Story: Chapter 26 - Orphaned computer nerd assembles huge team of assorted housemates as he discovers his solitude/orphanitude ain't a bit like the brochure. Spies, bad guys and family lurk around every corner. Atypical days in NYC are the norm.

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Crime   Humor   Mystery   Workplace   Extra Sensory Perception   Incest   Brother   Sister   Daughter   Cousins   Light Bond   Group Sex   Harem   Orgy   Black Female   White Male   Oriental Female   Hispanic Female   Indian Female   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   First   Oral Sex   Petting   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Voyeurism   Public Sex   Small Breasts   Nudism   Politics  

“You guys making a contest out of this.” I asked. “Need more material?”

“We thought about it, but who gets to be judge?” Caralyn responded.

“Secret ballot. Pick your three favorites, total the results and take the top ten vote getters. We’ll do a reading and final vote Saturday at dinner.” Amy said. “How about that.”

“That sounds like fun except for the girls who appreciate good poetry.” Anne giggled. “For them, it’s cruel and unusual torture. But still funny.”

“It’s a date, ladies. I say we all log off and get back to being ourselves. Is there any leftover pizza?”

Ellie laughed. “Leftover pie? Sergio doubled the order! The twenty-two we had on the table and the fourteen Amy put in the refrigerator kinda guaranteed leftovers, Boss.”

“Good. Here is my grand plan. Everyone get cleaned up, we’ll heat some food and go exploring.” I chuckled. “I am the only one who has not seen the new house. Never went past the first floor and haven’t seen the new doors.”

Nell and Emma showed up with the gaggle of girls they had been herding around. “Anyone up for reheated pizza?” Emma said. “Thought we’d give you guys a break. That was a hell of a session!”

“But we found the missing equipment, at the cost of our hearing.” Irina answered. “Hope the Evans sisters appreciate it.”

“I must be dain bramaged. You guys have been in the kitchen how long?” Amy looked up from her computer and sniffed the air. “That smells good.”

“No prob. You were distracted.” Nell shrugged. “So easy to have a dozen girls slip past, don’t you know?”

“Thanks, Nell, Emma and the rest of you angels. Dirty and hungry is not a good look. Tonight’s fashion mode is all silver and black, semi-formal. Meet me in the new lobby in an hour, dressed to impress. Call it 6:30.”

The mobsterettes scattered instantly. I’m always amazed at how quickly they recharge.

I pulled the Pennys aside. “Something about that new freight elevator drags up old stories about the super-rich industrialists at the turn of the last century. Come with me and tell me if I’m just crazy or observant. Get a couple of flashlights and meet me at the back.”

Down in my workshop, I filled a small toolbox with a few heavy, generic tools and a voltmeter. Nell and Emma were waiting at the elevator, door open.

“Guys, use your suspicious minds. This door is all wrong or all right. There is no room to unload from the rear of a truck unless it has side doors.” I wondered. “Next, where is the motor? The blueprints for the basement and this floor show the elevator. The second level goes to the rear of the building. The lift mechanism must be in some sort of subbasement. Where is it and how do you get there?”

“Now that you mention it, where is the power draw?” Emma pointed to the control panel. “That box is designed for a huge load. I did a security sweep while the Roadies were working, out of habit mostly’ looking for weak spots in our perimeter. The main feeds from ConEd are nowhere near beefy enough to handle a monster car like this.”

“We inspected the box. “Four buttons, ‘Ground’, ‘Basement’, ‘Go’ and ‘Emergency’. OK. I suppose you hold the ‘Go’ down and push the level. Autostop when the platforms match. Probably a relay behind ‘Go’ to energize the system.” I guessed. “All old-school mechanical.”

“We might want to open it up and see if it is even connected.” Nell suggested. “Kinda suck to need it and it fail at a bad time. Like unloading ammunition.”

I checked the edges and found the bolts. One of my spanners fit. “Here goes.” With an effort the bolt broke free. Six more bolts later and the door hinged open. I noticed first that the door was newer than the junction box, still old but not as old as the rest of the assembly.

“Ladies, I see a baked enamel finish on the door and paint on the sides. And that, third button is the answer to one of our mysteries.” I tested the power and found six hundred volts, DC. “This is subway current!” I put the bolts inside and closed the door.

“Girls, We really are going exploring! If this is what I think it is, the family is in for a great treat.” I hugged them both. “This is going to be fun. Get showered and silver-clad. We still have to be a little safety conscious, so a small pistol and sat phone are not out of place for a well-dressed commando. Matching shoulder bags will do. I don’t anticipate trouble, but we have to keep eyes open.”

“Should we test it?” Emma worried. “It might fail.”

“I’ll take a chance. This stuff is too simple and solid to malfunction. We won’t even strain it.” I assured her. “I’ve seen it work before, so we know it is good for the basement and first floor anyway.”

We scattered and hit the showers. The fourth and fifth floors were a cute madhouse, little bodies flying around like confetti in a tornado. Finally under the hot water, a changing stream of girls passed through. “Are the other bathrooms broken?”

“Of course not, silly.” Patty, washing herself with my chest, giggled. “Yours is the best, though. Better towel bar.”

“Glad to be of service. Madam.” I pushed her to the wall, bent her over and took the dancer from the rear. She was ready. “This has to be a quickie, sweetie.” I hissed. “Damn, you feel good.”

The previous two days had been foreplay for her and she flew apart after a very few minutes. I was right behind her. “I needed that, Mark. Expect to be jumped several times in the next hour. The girls are a bit heated. That business on the sidewalk was so hot. We saw the videos. Yikes!”

“Again, glad to be of service.” I managed to say as Max tried to suck me dry. She came close as I came down her throat. “You hotties have to give me a break. I can barely stand.”

“It works just as well, cowgirl style.” Jane and Jean said in twin fashion. “Just you wait.”

Some showers take longer than others. But I shooed them out, finished my ablutions, depilatory included and made it to the kitchen before the food was gone. I need not have hurried. We had pizza for days. It was 6:15. Not bad.

I was wearing black slacks, normal cotton, a silk sport shirt, open collar, and black athletic shoes. Semi-formal for an ex-computer nerd.

The RIA girls were in half-sheer silver spaghetti-strapped sundresses and necklaces with S/S pendants. The Bright Stars wore the same, in cellophane smoke. Our two Pennys had solid silver tap pants and cellophane silver crop-tops. Their necklaces pressed the fabric into the valley between their boobs, keeping the nipples constantly exposed, not that the cellophane hid anything, anyway.

Polly, Holly, Maggie, Billi, Frieda, Lulu, Elaine, Cynthia, Vicki and Kelli (the girls without security clearance) had been issued the one tit baring, toga-style dresses, in silver cellophane. They did not have nipple pendants, but did have chain belts with S/S pendants attached, in addition to the S/S necklaces.

Silver saturation. Perfect. I could see Amy’s hand at work.

No one went commando, all donning silver cellophane panties. Several had shoulder bags. This is good. I wanted maximum pheromonic influence tonight, for reasons that did not involve showers and dungeons. Yet.

I gathered all thirty-five (!!) at the rear of the Annex. Using the Voice, disguised as over-the-top showmanship, began the spiel:

“We stand on the shoulders of turn-of-the-century giants of conspicuous consumption. Folks like the Astors, Duponts, Dukes, Vanderbilts, Carnegies, Luces, Goulds, Chases, and Hearsts spent kings’ ransoms as if the money was pocket change. They could afford the very best and reinvented the description just to keep up with the Rockefellers and Rothschilds.”

“Then again, we have a few bucks, too. Whatever, I’m almost certain there are secrets hidden from sight in this unassuming building.” I stepped aside and waved them all into the freight elevator. “Please board the magic carpet to Zephyrland.”

The car was huge and we fit comfortably. Nell pulled the door closed. Oddly, it was a sliding, sideways, roll-up door, folding into the wall. Ish. Like a garage door on its side. It was not attached to the car. Curious, but it conserved space overhead. And it had narrow glass panels between the flex points. We don’t need no stinking OSHA. ‘Servants are disposable, dear. They’ll make more. Pass the caviar, Margaret.’

“So far, so good, fellow explorers.” Still in Voice mode, I announced. “From here on, we enter uncharted territory. It is extremely important that no whisper, no hint, not a word of what we find ever be mentioned outside of these walls.”

I looked at all of them, but especially at the newest. “I want your absolute oath, on penalty of ejection from our group, that you will never utter, write or otherwise communicate in any form, including but not limited to texts, voice, email, tweets or telepathy, the business of this family.”

The newbies looked startled. I went on. “It sounds deadly serious because it is. You all know people who want us disappear. Most of you know we do covert work for the less public departments of the Federal government. Attention is not our friend. Gossip and speculation can kill us. Understand?”

That seemed to alleviate some worries. “If you can make that promise, stay here. If not, wait in the house while the rest of us go treasure hunting. We will help you move out. If you have no place to go, I’ll get you a place, but it won’t be here.”

The threat of expulsion from the cool crowd, the natural curiosity of teens, or the saturated air, did the trick. No matter, I could see the tension drain away, replaced by what I can only call a look of complete acceptance. Body language doesn’t lie.This was more meaningful than a month of security checks. That would have to be done to keep the spooks happy, but the deal was sealed as far as I was concerned.

They all nodded swiftly in unison. I got distracted by the dancing boobs. Body language. Talking to me.

Amy elbowed me. “We’re good here, Sir. Lead on.”

“Very good, XO. Into the fog, ladies.”

I flipped open the control box, pressed the secret third button and activated the motors. The elevator began a slow descent to and past the basement. The door seemed to rise and was replaced by a rising, rough concrete wall. “You have those flashlights, girls?”

Nell and Emma lit the room up, bouncing the beams against the ceiling. “Got it covered, Major.” Nell said.

The car kept going for a long time, certainly dropping several stories. By now we had to be at or lower than the subway. The air in that car must have become silver-charged because I caught whiffs of charged girl. Not that I wanted an underground orgy to break out (as if I would run away), but the excitement would reinforce loyalty to the group. That was the immediate goal: getting the newbies to bond.

The car stopped automatically. “Ladies. These days, we have limos, armored cars, helicopters and private jets to ferry the uber-rich around, isolating the privileged from the masses and riff-raff. It was no different then. The upperest classes used the tools at hand, the railroad. They, in fact, owned it.” I grinned. “Private Pullman cars, private rail spurs and elevators to deliver them directly into their homes in luxury, they never had to share air with the lesser humans.”

I motioned to the Pennys. Both chuckled, bowed and pulled open the new door. As soon as it slid into place, the outside lights came on. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high vaulted arch roof. The car had settled into a rail station. We walked out into an elegance long lost to the world.

“They must have used stepstairs. Probably built into the rail cars. A normal subway station has a floor level with the inside of the carriage.” Amy noted. “It would be a drag to limb out of hole.”

“Makes it easier to service the car, too.” Yumi said. “At least they took the tracks out of the elevator.”

Polished marble, inset tiles, tarnished brass and steel everywhere you looked. An Art Nouveau/Art Deco masterpiece in a Gothic frame, untouched for who knows how many years. On the wall, in inset mosaics, the sign read, ‘West 68th Street’, underneath, in smaller letters, ‘Booth’. Pink letters in a sky blue box on a creamy white tile wall, matching the trim detail everywhere you looked.

The girls wandered around in amazement. “This is soooo cool! A super secret castle underground.” Beth cooed. “I read the deed while you all were talking turkey yesterday. Mark, you own the mineral rights under this building, which is strange in itself, so this is part and parcel of your property.”

Maybe not so strange. The original owners would need to insure ownership to make the construction legal. Retaining ownership of the station was a good thing. For us, too.

“Yes, but...” I warned out loud. “This is why I swore you to secrecy, girls. On paper, all this is ours. If someone in the wrong place, and that would be anyplace but here, becomes aware, we will loose this jewel. The city would seize it and either make a tourist attraction, museum or shopping mall.”

Sam spoke up. “Sisters, this is too good to risk. We can’t even talk about it among ourselves outside of our house. Walls have ears. The air has ears. Once word is out, we can’t get it back. Be careful to the extreme.”

“This a comic book/adventure, spy novel paradise. The tunnel goes north, maybe to the Astoria and south toward the unknown. It is likely interrupted or collapsed in places, or curves toward the rail lines over by the Hudson. There might even be a hub with a roundabout. We can explore later, but this is worth more than I could imagine.” I wondered myself.

“Probably a pass through when the elevator is up. Perhaps another riser with more tracks.” Nell decided. “No reason for the northbound tracks otherwise.”

“Could curve toward Grand Central or continue to Penn Station or both. They closed some passages when the new water tunnels went in and, before that, when they switched to all-electric engines. The Depression might have made some of the families ‘irrelevant’ and the lines closed permanently. Gotta suck to lose your place in the financial pecking order.” Carol said. “I’m sure data was lost or ignored when the first computers went on line. We don’t have the machines to read a lot of the old records.”

Frieda started laughing, “I do history. Think about it. The subways used to be privately held. The Independent Transit, Interborough Rapid Transit, and the Brooklyn Manhattan Transit. We still call the separate lines IND, IRT and BMT, even as the MTA blends it all into one. The profit-minded private owners opened and closed lines as fortunes and population centers changed until it was such a mess that the city took over to keep the system from collapsing. The economy depended on it.”

“The city had grown huge by then. Without a mass transit system, it would choke and suffocate in its own waste. Businesses would have to relocate because the workers couldn’t get to the factories in Manhattan. Now, we have inexperienced civil servants and the usual gaggle of corrupt bozos doing the same things for crazier reasons. Sweetheart contracts for stations to serve areas that never grew, that were never going to grow. A one-way flow from the city coffers to their poker buddies. Tunnels excavated for connections that were cancelled when a water pipe went through. A water main around here is twenty to fifty feet in diameter.” She continued. “There is all kinds of stuff down here lost forgotten, denied, abandoned, bypassed and broken, but mostly, not on the books.”

“A bought and paid private spur is nothing. A connection to the main railyard is OK if you own the rail and the yard. A hook-up to the subways might not be so good.” Caralyn said. “It’s 1920 and you are a person working in the dark corners of City Hall and they give you the job of making a new subway map. ‘Be quick about it.’ Quick means you don’t put in unnecessary info. Bye bye, old stations and lines. Ten years later, a new water main comes online and they put the some of the old elevated trains underground. Need a new map. Yours was good and becomes the template. What you omitted is lost to the past and new old stuff is being forgotten. Wash, rinse and repeat.”

“You got it, Toon.” I said. “And it started in the late 1800’s. By the time the computer age came around, the data was not there to enter. And the available but useless information was never digitized. By now, the actual paper is probably deteriorated because the stock is not acid free.”

Holly and Polly came running up from the other side of the terminal. “Did you know this was here? Is there stuff you don’t know?” Holly gushed.

I laughed at the girlish enthusiasm and semi-admiration. “The second part first. Yes, I don’t know some stuff. But I’ve made it a point to know as much as I can fit in and know how to find out the rest.” I pointed to the elevator. “I didn’t know if it was powered up. I used a voltmeter. Now, I knew it had power, plus that I couldn’t draw from the junction box to light the inside without a step-down transformer.”

“You don’t need to read every book, but you do need a library card.” Polly concluded. “And know how to read. What else did the meter say?”

“It said we were running on subway current, 600 volts, DC.” I smiled. “There has to be a converter around here somewhere, maybe with the elevator motors, because the normal incandescent bulbs haven’t exploded. Or there’s a 120 volt AC conduit. That might even come from our house. I’d rather it did.”

“The elevator motor draw will get lost in the noise of thousands of DC motors driving individual subway cars, ten thousand random surges an hour. A household current conduit will attract attention because it goes somewhere strange. People get suspicious.” Karen snickered. “Believe me. I come from a long line of suspicious people.”

“You come from a long line of people who avoid answers, Mark.” Diane snarked. “Answer the first question. Or will that reveal your secret inner wizard? Did you know this hole in the world was here?”

“I knew about this before I knew I had sisters. How fucked up is that? My people are excellent secret keepers.” I bowed. “Tah dah! I Sort of knew when I looked at the blueprints. Mine were older. Both buildings are the same age. Then there was the weird elevator. And the old stories of private rail cars. That was true, but the closest one I knew about is up at 73nd Street. Plus, why isn’t there a line between Broadway and Central Park West? Maybe it was in the way of the water tunnels or something was in the way of an Amsterdam Avenue Line back when they planned that stuff.”

Amy chuckled. “Like I said before, puzzles assemble themselves. The more questions you have, more possibilities are eliminated.”

“Then, the elevator door opens funny. Trucks unload from the rear. Trains unload from the side, as in railroad siding.” I shrugged, “I was sure there was some sort of railway, but this opulence is a wonderful surprise. So the short answer is ‘sorta, maybe and yes’ And ‘Holy Mackerel!’.”

“We can’t even take poster shots down here. The MTA has charming antique stations, working and museum pieces. But this is pristine and an order of magnitude fancier.” Luz sighed. “This is what the MTA dreams of when it gets drunk with friends. The photos would be too good. Our design shop clients will badger us forever for the location. They’ll be worse than the CIA and KGB.”

“We could charge 5 grand a day and be booked solid. Videos, movies, concerts, the works.” June grinned. “It feels good to say we don’t need the money. We can’t spend what we have.”

“We can buy a castle or monastery or some old ruins and move them to Riverside Park.” Eve suggested and she had the least cash on hand.

“Been done. Cloisters, Ft. Tryon Park. Cleopatra’s Needle, Metropolitan Museum.” I laughed. “Try to do that today, suddenly the most rat-infested, neglected and detested embarrassment of a slum is a National Historical Cultural Priceless Treasure, the cost goes up 10 times and you’re a Enemy of the State for trying to steal the People’s Valuable Artifacts. And they continue to let it rot. Ain’t worth the hassle.”

“Bag it.” Eve said. “What are we going to name our own hidden treasure? I vote for something innocuous like ‘Downstairs’, or ‘The Station’.”

“You girls can brainstorm all you want, but we’re not going to mention it outside this house, code name, nick name, generic name, no name. Not at Chandler’s Row, not at Hill House, not at Bright Star, nowhere. The Ten Pennys can’t know. Our two Pennys can, but they are us.”

“I’m ready to request a transfer to RIA anyway, Major. My real loyalties are here and that is no National Security conflict.” Nell said. “If it ever comes up, I have an oath thing going with the black ops people. Sometimes, they ask questions like ‘What haven’t you told us?’ Usually about an operation or mission, but not saying anything about this place, even if it has nothing to do with the mission, will blip a polygraph. ‘Don’t think about pink elephants.’ That mental deal.”

Emma agreed, “It’s about risk exposure. I’ll do the same if you’ll attach a recommendation. Billings will agree that RIA would benefit from round the clock, trained, protection. He can make it happen without a loss of rank or seniority.”

“I can do that. Just a transfer from one shadowy back room to an even more shadowy room.” I approved. “There are a zillion qualified replacements for Laura’s team and we can back up their ops, too.”

“That will put you in charge of keeping the team straight.” Nell smiled. “You don’t have a polygraph, do you? If you don’t, you know where to get one.”

“I have the Baker Triplets and Toon.” I mugged. “Why do I need a lie detector?”

“Point taken.” Emma shuddered. “I still want the assignment.”

“OK. I’ll work on it.” I lowered my voice, “ Laura’s going to have to replace Narf and Hammer, too. I don’t think they are coming back anytime soon. Nothing carved in marble yet, but a strong feeling. We’ll talk later.”

“Just ask Amy. She lives in his head.” Nell shook her head slowly. “She anticipates everything and answers questions before they’re asked.”

“She has mad mental skillz. That’s why I hired her eight months ago as a house manager and assistant. I tell her what needs to happen, not how to do it. Amy extrapolates the rest.” I grinned huge. “But she also knows when not to talk. Never. So don’t bother to ask.”

Amy walked up. “Don’t ask what, Sir?”

“Anything, nothing, XO.” I motioned into the room. “Need ten.”

“Yes, exactly, no.” And walked away to keep the girls from wandering down the tunnel.

“Grrrr. What did she answer?” Emma pseudo-growled. “You did not ask a question and she could not have overheard us.”

“My question, unasked, as I asked it. And Nell’s.” I smiled. “She will not answer any of your questions without my permission. That’s why we’re a good team. Wait a minute.”

“Why do you think Mike and Norm are outta here?” Nell asked now, not later.

“Foxhole bromance. Not like Nat and Smitty or Laura and Belinda, but like actual brothers, comrades-in-arms.” I guessed, “They have served their country with distinction, did the family thing well, love their spouses and are in their forties. Now they want some ‘guy’ time: laugh out loud at ‘Blazing Saddles’, drink beer at breakfast, scoff at Hollywood gossip, watch sports all night and go fishing. They earned it.”

“Sir sees causes, works out reasons and predicts the next moves. I see results and subconsciously work backwards to the reasons based on how people change. Investigation and observation. Why do they want the Riverhead duplex? Norm and Mike are warriors, but they want to live to savor the victories. Why work at Bright Star and have a crash pad in the city? Nancy and Tamera have been good wives and mothers and now want to get in some fun while they are young enough to enjoy it.” Amy said from behind the Pennys. “Importantly, there is no danger of any of the four being ‘unfaithful’ outside of their group. Have fun, like at Ren Faire or the topless beaches, but always bring it home.”

Emma was startled. “Don’t sneak up like that.”

“Don’t make it easy, Cat.” Amy grinned just like me.

“Keep talking, XO, you’re doing fine.” I encouraged.

“Thank you, Sir. Why did they let the girls move out so easy? Because the wives taught them girls would be girls at any age, so have an ulcer, enjoy it, get over it or ignore it. They picked a combination of the last two since they spawned some very headstrong and girly girls, as yet inexperienced, who were beginning to explore their own limits. They needed a safe place to do it.”

“You have a different vantage point.” Nell said. “I almost know why I’m like I am, but the guys’ ‘why’ is still a puzzlement.”

“To me, it resolves around recognition of one concrete fact: The girls are acting like their moms did at that age when Mike and Norm reaped the benefits. If it makes the daughters happy, what’s to complain about? They aren’t hypocrites. Might as well be cheerful and let their girls decide who they are. Accepting the inevitable, the guys are simply clearing the decks for the girls to enjoy the freedom they fought to protect, with someone they trust to teach the girls what they will learn anyway.”

That was a kinder and more diplomatic explanation of their actions than I had, but not less valid. The progression was nearly the same: realization, recognition, and acceptance of the inevitable, honest introspection, followed by cheerful and willing participation. The result was the same, but her interpretation had a softer, less callous feel to it.

“I can’t disagree, Amy. I never thought it through backwards.” Emma said. “What else?”

Amy sighed. “The last firefight threw their age and mortality in their faces. Maybe they felt they lost a step, or were not as frosty as they once were. Best bet is they didn’t want to fail you. Whatever, they love these little Mobsterettes to pieces and they trust the rest of the Pennys to get the job done or they would not have passed the baton.”

Emma sniffed. “I will tell you this. Braver, tougher and better men you will never meet. It was a privilege to be on the same team. Cool under fire, razor-sharp, smart and always in the right place to back you up, always trusting you to do the same. To be handed the figurative baton is the best compliment never said. Thank you, Amy, for being so smart.”

“Sometimes when the puzzle is incomplete, working out why particular parts are missing is as useful as the actual pieces.” Amy raised her arm. “Don’t worry, Cat and Bullet. Trust yourself, you are that good. You won’t drop it.”

Ten girls strolled up, waiting.

“Thank you again.” I said. “Exactly.” That was a very nice thing Amy did. Way back when, Andy was right. She is good people.

“OK, Amy. Tell me again how you’re not a mind reader.” Nell laughed.

“I’m not a mind reader. Sir needed ten. Here they are, the ten without clearance. Don’t ask. It’s the only discrete ten here. RIA-Zephyrs: 20 silver dresses, RIA-Bright Stars: 3 smoke dresses, SpecFor-Ten Pennys: 2 tap pants/crop-top combos, Un-vetted girls: 10 toga dresses. Makes us easy to find from the front or back. Anticipating his requirements, given the delicate circumstances. All in a day’s work.”

I gathered the ten newbies around. “Girls, what do you think of all this?” As expected, they responded with universal enthusiasm and excitement.

“Not just this hidden jewel, but the house upstairs, our living arrangements, the whole deal?” They expressed nothing but unanimous approval and a marked eagerness to be a part of our group. Good.

“Before you can be a part of our clearly unorthodox family, and it is a family, there are things you need to know and accept. I’ll get straight to the point, girls. Physically, this all belongs to me. It is my house and I am careful to an extreme about whom I allow into my home. I am the final arbiter and judge. I set the rules.”

Watching their faces, I kept speaking. “I will do a background check for the others’ protection and mine. If there is anything weird in your past, I will know. My sisters, the James and Ellis sisters, and Frieda, I know something about. Lulu, Billi and Maggie are empty pages, history-wise.”

“Look all you can, Mr. Allyn. No commies or spies in my house. Just regular peeps!” Lulu insisted.

“Your regular Mom already gave you to me in spectacular style, same as the parents of Frieda, my sisters, the James Gang and the Ellis twins. To be sure, most of the time I discover situations where girls are in danger. Have a talk with the Tanners, Caralyn, Patty and Eve. They can tell horror stories and most of the others’ lives were just sad, leaning toward tragic.” I said, “So this collection of sweeties started with rescue efforts.”

Maggie piped up. “I’ll tell you my story up front. I lived in Charlottesville until last year. The parents got a chance to go to Angola with a charity-based organization to help set up community water supplies. That was cool to the max and I came to NYC to stay with my grandfather until they returned. I had all the paperwork to let Gramps get me in private school, do the doctor and legal stuff. Even had a nice fat bank account to take care of expenses.”

 
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