Chapter 1: Arrival

Darlene Markham turned her Toyota Hilux south off of the D142 onto a smaller country road. She liked her lot in life as it had turned out. It’s not the one she thought she would be leading when she left Minneapolis to go to school in Bergen, Norway to go to school 24 years ago. But here she was now, running a patch of fields in a large commune in south France. She lived with her two daughters as well as the local doctor and her brood in a spacious farmhouse that also doubled as the latter’s office, but now it would be sleeping one more ... at least for the foreseeable future.

She glanced over at the sleeping lump in the front seat beside her. Even after a few days you could still see the traces of the shiner around the teenaged boy’s right eye, which was why he was here now. It had been a full day for her, but an even fuller one for her passenger. True, she had to drive into Bordeaux and take the TGV to Charles de Gaulle in Paris to meet the jet, but he had to fly in it overnight. She passed the sign on the side of the road ‘La Commune de la Fleur de l’Aurore 5KM’ and jostled the limp figure across from her.”Wake up sleepyhead, we’re almost there,” she announced.

“Almost where?” squinted Jimmy Markham knuckling his eyes and peering through the windshield at the countryside.

“The commune James, where my farm is. Where you’re staying for the summer,” she replied. “Get you away from the boys that beat you up for a couple of months, see what a summer of chores in the outdoors can do for you.”

“Right,” the 14 year old nodded finding his way back into present reality.

“That looks a bit puffy still,” the brunette observed looking at the swelling around the boy’s eye. “We live with a doctor. She’ll probably have something I can put on it when we get home.”

“Thanks Aunt Darlene,” the skinny youth smiled. Having just turned 14 a month ago, this was really the first time he had been away from home for an extended period of time. Oh, sure there had been weekend camping trips with the boy scouts a couple times, but nothing like this. Two months in Europe, in France no less. OK, he would be on a farm, but still. And so far he liked his Aunt Darlene. He only met her once before when he was eight years old and she seemed just as nice now as she was then.

“It’s just too bad they lost your luggage,” the 42 year old lamented as they pulled onto a dirt road. “Were your meds in there?”

“No, I have them here in my day pack with my laptop,” the freckled teenager answered patting his rucksack.

“That’s good to know,” she returned rolling down her window. “You taken them yet today?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he reported before frowning. “But these are the only clothes I have.”

“And they need a wash,” the driver remarked. “You’ve worn them two days in a row now and slept in them. We’ll find you something to wear on the farm but those need to go in the hamper.” The green eyed farmer waved as she passed a couple of locals manning a fruit stand next to a gate across the road before pulling the pick-up up to an arching sign reading ‘La Commune de la Fleur de l’Aurore’.

“La Commune de la Fleur de l’Aurore,” the other sounded out, craning his neck to re-read it as one of the two strangers swung it open for them. “What does it mean?”

“The Commune of the Dawnflower,” Darlene divulged putting the truck back in gear.

“Why did they call it that?” queried the freckled youth.

“Not sure Sweetie. It was before my time,” she commented as they entered a small clutch of shops and other buildings.

“Why did you have a gate back there, Aunt Darlene?” he then asked.

“Why do you have a lock on your apartment back in Minneapolis?” she countered as they emerged at the other end of the village and once more entered the countryside. “The commune is private property, this is our home. Doesn’t it make sense to lock your front door?” After another 10 minutes of driving they pulled into a long driveway that eventually led up to a large white farmhouse with a large tree in the front yard from which hung a tire swing. “Welcome Home James. This is us.”

The younger Markham could hardly believe his eyes. You could fit eight, maybe even ten of the apartments he and his mother lived in inside the building in front of him. “Wow, this place is huge,” the adolescent exclaimed as he got out of the vehicle. “And you live here ... by yourself?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” the woman chuckled. “No, there’s myself, my daughters, Tanya and Tonya, Dr. Rawlings and her two girls Briar and River, as well as Briar’s only child Clover.”

“Dr. Rawlings?” quizzed the youth.

“She’s the doctor around here,” the 42 year old informed her nephew. “She has an office at the end there though there is a clinic in town as well. Sometimes she here, sometimes, she’s there. She’s going to want to give you a check up, take a look at your meds.”

“OK,” the boy nodded still slowly taking in his new surroundings. He could hear a tractor off on the distance somewhere. “Where is everyone?”

“Probably out in the fields or in town,” she guessed. “We have a booth in the market there. Cherries are in, strawberries too. Peaches will be starting in a week or so. You’ll meet them soon enough. In the meantime, I’ll show you your room and the shower. You could use a wash as well Dear,” she advised.

The pair made their way onto the veranda which was populated with summer seating before walking through a front room with a fireplace and up a wide set of stairs that led off of it. It was so different that what Jimmy was used to. It wasn’t an uncomfortable life he had back in Minnesota and this home was by no means opulent but the sheer amount of space to live in was something you could drown in. Sure he had been in big buildings before, but most of those experiences involved a lot of kids his own age in the same place at the same time, or at the very least an amount of others beyond counting. This was different, this was freedom.

“This is where you’ll sleep James,” his Aunt Darlene commented showing him into a room done up in a peach coloured décor with lace lined drapes and a canopy bed that matched the window dressings. “The bath is through the door there. You’ll be sharing with Tonya and Tanya. Their entrance is on the other side. Toss your clothes out the door before you go in the shower. I’ll leave some on your bed for you. The green bottle is the body wash, the blue one is the shampoo and conditioner. Don’t mix them. The labels are in French and my guess is you don’t speak it. Make sure you get your weiner and your butt. Get between the cheeks James. Most boys don’t and you can get infections if it isn’t clean. I’ll take your laptop and charge the battery while you’re in there.”

His aunt was right. He did need a shower. Not just to clean up. Standing under the water was refreshing. He was still a bit out of it despite his excitement but this was bringing him back to the land of the living. “Blue bottle shampoo, green bottle body wash, blue bottle shampoo, green bottle body wash,” he repeated as he stepped out from under the water and lathered up his skin with the second. He thought it a bit weird that she had specifically told him to wash so thoroughly down there but she lived with a doctor so she probably knew best. Setting it on the shelf he grabbing the first for his reddish blonde hair. The summer always did that. In the winter he had red hair. But when the weather turned warm and the sun came out it turned what the girls called strawberry blonde. Both had pleasant smells to them. “No real surprise there, it was a house full of girls after all,” he reasoned while massaging his scalp.

“Just like I thought,” Darlene muttered to herself sitting at her desk with her nephew’s laptop. “The porn was right where her sister said it would be.” She quickly got to work re-directing all of the bookmarks that James had set up to other online destinations and installed a looping program she had put together that would keep funneling him back to the same places should he try to search for new ones. Even though she didn’t use it professionally much anymore, her masters in Computer Programming still did come in handy on occasion. And this was one of those times.

“Aunt Darlene!” came a muffled but alarmed call from down the hall. “Aunt Darlene!”

“Coming Sweetie,” she called out pulling up a neutral site on the device while it finished installing and charging before getting up and checking on her sister’s son.

“Aunt Darlene!” came the panicked outburst a third time.

“I’m here Dear, outside of the bathroom,” she answered. “What’s wrong?”

Slowly the door opened and the short boy wrapped in a towel looked up at her with worried eyes. “Look,” he blurted pointing at the shower drain.

“Oh dear,” she exclaimed putting a hand over her amused mouth when she spotted the mound of body hair on the tiles. “I forgot to mention that. We girls like to be clean all over except, of course, for our heads. And now you are too. Let take a look Sweetie,” she suggested quickly yanking the covering away.

“Aunt Darlene!” James squealed in fright.

“James,” she replied calmly, still amused. “I’m 42 years old. I’ve seen my share of naked men in my life. I have two daughters. Come on, let’s get you dressed.” With that she steered the nude 14 year old into the bedroom where she had laid out clothes for him to wear.

“Aunt Darlene, I can’t wear those,” he protested seeing the cream coloured satin panties and babydoll, each with a barely visible embossed flower motif. “They’re girl’s things.”

“Of course they are silly,” she retorted. “You’re living with a bunch of them. That’s all we have here.”

“What about my old clothes?” he queried hopefully.

“In the wash kiddo,” the brunette returned. “They were really sweaty and dirty. I’m going to have to wash them twice. Come on, it’s either these things or you walk around buck naked in front of all the girls. It’s after four. They’ll be back soon enough.” She grabbed the panties and squatting, held them open for the boy. “Step in now. Hop, hop.”

Jimmy was cornered and he knew it. It was bad that he would have to wear girl’s underthings around a bunch of girls. It would be even worse wearing nothing at all. Reluctantly, he approached the sister of his mother whom he barely knew and going through her specified motions, allowed himself to be put into the cream coloured panties. He felt them slowly slide up his legs and then stretch across his cock and balls. They were so soft, so smooth. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He could feel himself begin to harden.

“Arms up,” she commanded.

Robotically James complied and moments later his breath caught while more satin slid down over her shoulders and torso.

She reached down and grabbing the sides of the first and pulled them up gently, tightening them against her nephew’s genitals, As she let the fingers of her right hand ‘accidently’ brush up against his hardened stem, she felt him swoon slightly, leaning back against her, and smiled. It was just as she and her sister thought.

“Let’s go downstairs Sweetie,” she suggested taking his hand. “The girls will be back soon. We can sit on the veranda and drink iced tea.”

“Oh dear,” the Markham woman exclaimed in mock surprise a few minutes later when she returned to where she had left the boy when she went to get the summer beverage. Legs spread slightly on the cushioned wooden love seat she had left him in, he was staring anxiously at the tent his cock had formed in the panties he now wore as his hands crept slowly towards the protrusion. “That’s going to be a problem going forward isn’t it James? We can’t have you touching yourself like that or even thinking about it, not around the girls,” she decided setting the tray with the pitcher and two tall glasses filled with ice on the end table.

“I don’t understand Aunt Darlene,” he whimpered. “I don’t know why it’s doing that. It doesn’t happen when I wear my underwear.”

“That’s OK Dear,” she comforted reaching behind the bench, knowing full well that the ‘vitamin’ regimen her sister Charlene had put the boy on last year was going to put him on this path and that the hair removal body wash had only further sensitized his skin. “Aunt Darlene will fix it,” she assured the teenager looping a strap around his waist and deftly fitting each of his wrists into the cuffs on either side before tightening them. “Good, now that those wandering hands are taken care of, Aunt Darlene can get down to helping you out.”