Chapter 11

Except for the ugly business this morning, my life was actually pretty damn good. My normal was on steroids. However, part of life before the invasion was keeping my commitments. That particular piece of normal did not change.

I sent a text to Rivers asking him to prod his FBI contacts to protect the dancers’ interests. He was on the case.

The real estate agents were on schedule and had reassured the staff at MAD Services that their jobs were secure under the new management. If I had my way, they could be booking agents for Laura’s team in addition to their business services, Miss Moneypenny to Bond, Laura Bond.

The Chinatown issues needed some attention however. Sun’s legitimate ill-gotten gains were moved around a bit until the commando team’s cost, Soo’s generous parting gift and Caralyn’s Academy tuition/college fund were covered.

The balance, ten million dollars, went into one of my accounts offshore. Hey. I’m not that much of an angel. I deserve a little something for my troubles, too. What was I going to do, give it back to the crooks? Somebody had to pay the lingerie bills and that dance studio was not cheap. As long as it was home improvement and not a business deduction, who cared?

It sure as hell improved my home.

I needed to meet with Dr. Williamson to plant the cooperative learning dorm idea. The learning environment was actually in place. I just needed an appropriate appearance to sell the concept. Naked class would not look so good to the Board of Directors, nor to the State Department of Public Instruction should anyone get curious. I’ll bet Mr. Sun would love to pay for Zephyr House school uniforms from beyond the grave. I’m thinking nice cotton blouses over hiking shorts and sneakers. White over forest green. Need a logo, maybe a red ‘Z’ superimposed over a green whirlwind in a three-inch white diamond, bordered in the same green. The left breast pocket would be a perfect location. Embroidered. Names, above the emblem, would be cool. Sun would spare no expense. He was becoming that kind of guy.

I sent the design specs to Bright Sun with a promise to send the students’ sizes in, ASAP, opening with three sets each. Leotards and dancewear orders to follow. Amy or Ellie could deal with that chore. Maybe a headmaster’s outfit would be appropriate and something for the master’s right hand girl would not be out of place.

With that thought, I sent another set of specs detailing silk ‘Daisy Dukes’ in sky blue under sheer white, high-cropped, spaghetti strapped tops. Again, three sets each for comfort and loungewear in the girls’ dorm. I am quite comfortable with the teenagers’ underboob peeks. Deciding to go all in, I ordered leotards for gymnastics and dance, green-trimmed white and white-trimmed green and solid sky blue, logo placed on the left hip. I asked them to build dresses, sheer and loosely flowing, in white for each performer, knee length.

I put the final design in their hands. I wouldn’t have a problem if halter-tops and skirts, in addition to the dresses, were involved. Bikinis, utilizing the logo diamonds in strategic places...

Girls and sizes reminded me to pull the memory card from the surveillance camera over the small conference room table. I kept it there as insurance against the bad memories associated with buyer’s remorse after contract negotiations. Today, it recorded Caralyn’s debut as a member of the household.

You can’t put a price on home movies. Good times...

I had a quick shower and found my last pair of gym shorts in the small closet in the rear of the office. I was curious to see how the girls spent the time while I was out.

The house was pristine and dinner was in the oven. The study hall, with the exception of the art zone, was ready for class. On the fourth floor, I had a few shirts left and the bed was made. On a whim, I side tripped to my guy stuff area and picked up a couple of tennis balls.

Up one more flight, I could see the new dorm set up. Beds of all sizes formed squares around the huge room. I could see an area blocked by movable screens, probably for a studio changing room. Nice place. I assumed the two bedrooms were closet and personal dressing rooms.

I looked into the studio just to watch the girls interact. A dancer would watch a gymnast do a brief routine, then try to make it more graceful and rhythmic. Caralyn helped them smooth the motions and suggested ways to blend into other combinations. She knew stuff. She also had the makings of an alpha belle. I decided Caralyn would not get Amy’s position.

As she spun toward me, I threw a tennis ball at her head at top speed, with another toward her chest. The girl continued the spin, catching the first ball and dodging the second. She smiled and bowed.

“Spar?” She asked. “Full speed?”

“Sure. Tai chi or tae kwon do?”

“Mixed, full contact.” She grinned like she knew something. “No krav maga.”

“Full contact, if you can.” I centered and nodded. “Shall we dance?”

Her poise changed slightly. “Begin when Amy claps her hands.” Giving orders already.

“When you’re ready, Amy.”

Amy moved the girls to the walls and looked at both of us. Caralyn winked at her schoolmates, already bragging, then focused at me. Amy asked me for permission before she clapped.

Caralyn moved like a cat, striking first. I dodged her first attack and used her second to put her on her ass. I stepped away, allowing her time to stand. She leapt from the floor, hoping to catch me off guard. Her eyes were her tell.

I dropped under her high spin kick and slapped her perfect ass as I deflected her follow up. That was my first offensive move and offended her greatly. She went to top speed and threw every combination in the book at me, as fast as she could. I’ll give her this much, she was fast, competent and, unfortunately, unsophisticated. Good, but not as good as she thought she was. Caralyn did not pull her punches, but none of them landed. She slowly revealed a mean streak and a stubborn attitude.

I pulled mine and more than a few got through. Finally, It became clear she would not back down. Caralyn was too mad to see the light. I put her on the floor, hard. With a knee on her stomach, a fist at her throat and rigid fingers millimeters from her eyes, I said coldly, “Enough. This ends now. Do you understand? You will not win.”

Caralyn relaxed and nodded slightly. Eyes say a lot, I didn’t believe her and punched a stiff finger into a spot just inside of her shoulder socket, returning my fist to her throat. The arm went limp, numb and useless until the feeling returned.

“That was your only warning. If you think it, you will know pain. I do not want to hurt you. Do not make it necessary.” I put more pressure on her solar plexus. “This time I will not hold back. You may be better than your previous opponents, you are not better than me.” More pressure. “If the dead could talk, five of Sun’s soldiers would bear witness.”

In the background, Amy’s voice interrupted. “Pay attention, Caralyn. Sir is not even breathing hard. He was playing just now. You will not like him serious.”

She did truly yield this time. I pulled her up. “Damn, you are fast, Caralyn. But you give yourself away. Your body control is exceptional, but your eyes give you away.”

Swinging her arms, she was trying to get her shoulder back.

“No grudges. We’ll go over your technique, while we have it fresh in our minds. Let’s make you better. Now try that first attack at half speed and I will show you how I countered it and how I could have broken your leg.”

We went through several of her moves; refining positions, strike angles and the possible counter attacks she could expect. “If you can’t protect your weight bearing or launch foot, stay on your toes, take the hit, but let it move not break. Use the added momentum to strike back from an unexpected direction before they recover balance.”

“I see. They will expect their foot to stop on impact, and when it doesn’t they will be overextended for a second. Eat the pain and take the opening.”

“Now Caralyn, tell me what you did wrong.”

“I was over confident and assumed you were on the defense due to my superiority, and failed to see you were holding back. Not aware.” She took a deep breath. “Then you insulted me and I let my anger control my actions. You are correct. I would not have stopped until my pride was avenged. Thank you for not allowing me to hurt myself.”

“Always assume your opponent is your equal until you see otherwise. Vanity is unattractive, often fatal. Pride, sometimes a motivator, often gets in the way of rational thought. Boasting of victory to the others did not make me happy. You shared your mother’s racial scorn for the white do-gooder’s skills and failed to hear the words of my strike team. You appreciated my concern for your safety, but believed me to little more than the paymaster.” I stared hard. “This not a video game. Those warriors are not avatar constructs; they do not accept strangers easily and do not waste their words. In the real world, you are lucky to live long enough to learn from a mistake.”

“I think I need to reconsider my attitudes or mistakes will happen. Will you help me be better?”

“With pleasure, if you will forget your attitudes, not reconsider them. Stop being stupid. Don’t make me regret giving you a place in my home. The next time we spar, keep it friendly. But as you get better, so will I. It is a test of skills, not a personal challenge.” I changed the subject. “Have you all decided to blend your various talents into a new art form?”

Leah caught that one. “If Caralyn lives long enough, we can teach her to dance the katas more gracefully, the katas can inform the gymnasts and we can dance with more emphasis and power.”

“We can all gain something and maybe develop new performance methods. Even the giant girls.” Sam giggled.

“Everyone is a giant to you.” Jean laughed, “Except Patty.”

“I ain’t bothering nobody. Leave me out of this!”

“We can do that. You are too short to notice without a magnifying glass anyway.”

“Be nice to me, Eve. I know where you sleep. You’ll never see me coming.”

“If you come as loud as Sam, I sure as hell will hear you.”

“She does. Trust me, I know.” Ellie smirked. “You will wake up. We have it on film.”

“Sir, dinner is nearly ready. If we can make it mobile, may we eat in the entertainment room? That is if you don’t mind. We could watch some home movies and teach the dancers a new interpretive platform.”

“Great idea, Amy. That’s why you make the big bucks. Get the mob organized and I will cue up the videos. We’ll make a night of it.”

Might as well get the uniforms started tonight. “While that is happening, Ellie, you are to collect each girl’s measurements and sizes. Include inseam, inseam to knees, inseam to bellybutton, bellybutton to a line between the nipples, and then that line to the shoulders. Then, hip and waist, ribcage below the boobs, around the nipples and the distance between the nipples. Get neck and upper thigh diameter, too. Make a spread sheet I can email.”

The girls looked surprised. “First, we will need a precise baseline to plot and plan your exercise regimen. Second, I’m having school uniforms tailored for each of you, along with performance wear. I want you to look sharp on stage when and if you give recitals or exhibitions for the public.”

“Cool, Mark. Should we search for a company that can handle the whole order?” Jenny wondered.

“I discovered a diamond-in-the-rough company today. They will be perfect. I’ve seen the shop and the output. The staff is smart and well organized. You will love the new clothes and be shocked at who made them.” I grinned large. “Don’t bother to ask. It’s a secret.”

“You are a meanie, Mr. Allyn.” Sam whined. “Curiosity will drive us crazy.”

“Some threat, Sweety. With you girls, ‘crazy’ is a constant. Shortest cab ride in history.” I rejoined, “Now get your numbers and let’s get this night on the road.”

Dinner was portable, if lasagna the size of a twin bed was portable. The Italian bread, brushed with olive oil, Parmesan and pepper, was toasted golden brown. We sipped a nice rosé with dinner. Well, I sipped. The girls enjoyed nine bottles.

Dessert was a poached pear in a caramel sauce, accompanied by espresso.

While the girls were zoned out, I sent Ellie’s spreadsheet to Bright Star.

“Ladies, this is a delightful was to cure a stressful day. Whoever thought to layer sweet Italian sausage and prosciutto between cheeses is a genius. Amy, this was inspired. How did you find the wine?”

“I called the wine steward at Zabar’s. He said the rosé would complement the lasagna, but not compete, so I ordered a case. It arrived while you were out. Incidentally, I answered the door in the outfit I wore to Patty’s emancipation, not the one I had on when the pizzas were delivered.”

“Did you have a problem being eighteen?”

“No Sir. I’m perfectly OK with being eighteen, and Zabar’s didn’t ask. Your house account is all the clerk needed to know. I gave him no reason to think otherwise.”

I looked around the table at the happy teens. All seven of the new girls seemed relieved I was not upset at the underaged drinking. I told them it was OK to have an adult beverage every so often, only if I was present. If I suspected differently, there would be consequences. Outside of the house, it would risk a good thing for everyone.

“And thank you for the dessert, Diane.”

“You’re welcome. How did you know?”

“It is a ‘Diane’ sort of thing, classy and elegant with a twist. Just like you.” I smiled, “You have that Twiggy/Audrey Hepburn thing going, but sexier.”

“You think I’m elegant and sexy, even with my little A+ cups?”

“Of course. If you were the tiniest bit different, you would be a different Diane, not the one we like. We might like the other one, but we do know we like this one a lot.” I grinned again, “A different Diane might not have enjoyed being used by a Viking on stage so much. Up for an encore?”

“Not before we get our audition, sister. Take a number!” The twins spoke as one. Jean added, “But that was one hell of a dismount for a dancer!”

“That was more a launch than a dismount. He popped his hips and I went flying away like a catapult load. He ‘dismounted’ me so fast, his big dick ‘bout turned my pussy inside out. And I was coming again before I landed!” She preened, “That was a good tumble at the end, though.”

“Take it from a gymnast who knows from tumbles, Mark tumbled you cross-eyed. The ‘flip to a spread eagle’ is not the IOC approved way to stick a landing!” Ellie giggled, “You just gave him a target to stick his own landing.”

“He passed up the easy one and stuck me like rag doll standing in the middle of the set.” Sam moaned, “I was dieing from his mighty staff for the third time when Amy stabbed me in the back.”

“Sorry about that. It was in the script.”

“And you say you have this on tape?” Caralyn wheezed. “And more? Really? Who would tape that?”

“Yes. Why would I say otherwise, Caralyn? The Boss made it clear, the slightest deception is not tolerated. Amy and I have been here months longer than anyone else and we learned it’s not so much the penance, though that can be embarrassing, it’s the hurt you can cause a friend who didn’t deserve it. If anything, we understate.”

The girls were running a little attitude intervention of their own.

Amy agreed, “One little deception needs a fib to cover it up, then a bigger lie to cover that and soon it takes too much effort to remember the falsehoods. You wind up isolating yourself over something that would have been forgiven in the first place.”

“Were you questioning the contents of the video,” Jane asked, “or it’s existence?”

“Do you even know why you doubted any part of what she said? Ellie gave you no reason.” Jean wondered, “Did you hear something we didn’t or maybe you heard something you didn’t?”

A light came on in Caralyn’s eyes and she looked a little abashed. “I should have said, ‘I’m glad you have it on tape. I can’t wait to see it.’ Which is totally true and would not question your statement. I apologize in advance for any unintentional slights I might cause. It’s hard to change. I grew up where everyone had something to hide and always shaded the truth. Everything was a question that never got a straight answer. My whole life may have been a carefully constructed illusion.”

“Now you’re catching on. We all have twisted histories. Mark went to a lot of trouble to get us out of danger and opened his house to keep us safe. Following his few rules is a small price for security, especially since the first one is to treat each other with the greatest respect.” Leah said. “Honesty is the first step. We learned that the first day.”

“He can see what we need and makes us admit to wanting it. Then he tells how we’ll get it. Which ain’t rocket surgery when he’s doing wonderful things with your nipples and talking about your sister’s school project.” Amy smiled, “Sir won’t even let us deceive ourselves. His lessons are unforgettable.”

“We tease like crazy, but it is never to be mean. Jeeze, you’re a foot taller than Sam. Hell’s bells, girl, your hair is anime-yellow! Eve has the color you should have. The twins’ hair is cartoon red. Lord knows where Max’s snow-head came from, but she and Eve have bigger tits. Yours look bigger because you’re so slender. It’s OK to see our differences. It’s not OK for it to make a difference. If you think otherwise, I’ll get Patty a stepladder so she can bite your boobs.” Jenny was laughing too hard to go on.

“Again with the short jokes! Good thing I like being ‘petite’ or I’d get a complex. People get me stuff off the top shelf all the time. I don’t even have to ask anymore.”

“And the pre-teen department has cute clothes.” Max agreed, “The salesgirls hate it when we destroy the blouses with these puppies. Pure carnage in the dressing room.”

“Pure carnage and exploding blouses is the perfect lead-in to tonight’s first feature movie, Opening Night at the Studio. Retire to the theatre just over there and we will start from the beginning.” I led them to the lounge area, we had deluxe seating to spare.

Amy insisted on starting with my workout, the very, very beginning. Apparently the intervention was not over. Caralyn’s only comment was, “My instructors were complete incompetent stupids. Mark Allyn is a fucking samurai.”

There were moaning audibly when I started mind-fucking Amy and Ellie. When the demonstration models came hard enough to collapse, more than half of the girls did, too. The twins were comatose in a sisterly sixty-nine. The scene must have played directly into Caralyn’s deep-psyche battlefuck fantasy. Still gripped in post-orgasmic trembles, she was crying softly, “Please let me stay. Please let me stay.” She repeated this chant over and over again as tears fell from her eyes.

The poor girl was broken, snatched away from her familiar, if highly questionable, surroundings, had her life threatened by her mother, and had the last thing that brought her confidence exposed as inadequate. Now, she had seen her most cherished fantasy being lived in real life by someone else.

Amy, in an amazingly insightful gesture, wrapped the teary girl in a bear hug, whispering in her ear and rocking the yellow-haired teen to sleep. “You’re home now, Caralyn. Your sisters will make it all right. Mr. Allyn will keep you safe. Just let him.” Amy whispered to me, “It’s over. Caralyn will be OK.

“Thank you, sweety, she had some strong walls to break through but I know she will make it. I might not be here in the morning when you all get up, so I need you to get everyone organized, the basement cleaned, so you can close it up until I get back. Dress penalties are suspended for the day. Everybody in her comfort zone.” I smiled, “Keep everyone busy, everything normal.”

“We have a bucket load of laundry to wade through, the new spaces to tweak, and supplies to lay in.” Amy giggled. “We just doubled the population, plus. That is a lot of groceries and shampoo. Busy is not an issue.”

“Call Laura and ask her to drive Ellie, Caralyn, Leah and Jenny to the shop where I buy laptops. Have them get what they need for the whole mob, not what they think I want them to have. Get some art supplies for Caralyn and whatever the girls, all of them and you, want to wear outside the house.”

“Inclusion. Good thinking, Sir. Will you be back soon?” She was a little concerned. “Things got pretty stirred up yesterday, so I think you should let me turn away walk-ins until you are here. If it’s OK, I’ll post a small sign on the door with a phone number. Regular clients will call or email. Strangers could get too strange.”

“I should be back late in the afternoon. I have to fix some things, not dangerous, but important to the innocent bystanders caught up in the chaos. When you call Laura for the escort services, ask if one of her people can keep a watch on the street for a while. Properly prudent paranoia pays promptly.”

“Really, Sir?” Amy rolled her eyes, “Please pound passing plotters’ parts productively, pronto.”

“Hush, girl! Go to sleep. I’ll try not to disturb the tipsy twelve when I leave.”

The girls lasted through the end of ‘Centerfold’ and passed out. Three fourths of a bottle will do that to a fifteen-year-old. I left all twelve on the couches, killed the lights except one on an end table and slept in a recliner.

Wednesday’s rollercoaster finally came to an end. We never got to the exercise equipment, stripper’s pole or disciplinary gadgets and toys. March of the Valkyries would wait another day.

I woke up feeling pretty spry considering the previous day and the fact that it was 5:30 in the morning. The two girls examining my morning wood were pretty spunky, too. Sam was talking about getting fucked hard and sudden before she ever got a good look at the beast. Her words, not mine. I would have been more crude. Patty said she had a really good look at as it went in. “Watching with my brain and feeling with my pussy was like a double experience, getting fucked twice.”

“Girls, I need some shower buddies. What say we take this fun upstairs before the others wake up? I’ll let the tipsy teens recover a little and then we’ll discuss the penalties for overindulgence.”

Sam and Patty pulled me up, dragging me to the stairs. On the first floor I lifted Patty onto my dick and bounced her up the next three flights to my quarters. At the foot of my bed, I bounced her rapidly until she came again. I tossed her limp body to the bed.

Sam was already in position to take my cock doggie style. More than willing to oblige, I long stroked her limp also. I didn’t come inside either cunt because I didn’t want them leaking all over town today. I picked the pair up, one under each arm and carried them to the shower, settling both on their knees.

“Ladies, finish what you started downstairs. A double blow job with deepthroat practice is a great place to begin.” I have good ideas, if I say so myself. I do say so and this one was in the top ten with a bullet!

Patty and Sam made a great team. Once they figured the angle (Sam described a swordswallower trying to eat a foil with a bent neck), they mastered the trick. My dick was traded back and forth until I started to spurt and they took turns with that, too.

The morning wood finally conquered by the forces of suction, my bladder did what it desperately needed to do, blast like a fire hose at a three-alarm blaze. The teens found it great fun to play point and shoot, managing to keep the stream away from anybody’s body.

We did the soap and shampoo drill, and I sent them up to their floor to get dressed for the day. “The appropriate attire will be a feminine blouse, thick enough for braless titties and a nice skirt, under which you will be naked.” I leered comically, “I’ll carry panties in my briefcase if needed later.”

“This should be exciting. Where are going?” Sam was all in. Patty bounced on her toes, causing her boobs to make me want to stay home.

“Be still for a minute. We’re going downtown to meet my lawyers to finalize the corporate charter for the new company I told Leah and Jenny about yesterday. Next we meet the staff, tour my building and close on the purchase with the real estate agents. You two will be the witnesses to the contracts. Meet me in the kitchen at 7:00. We’ll grab a bite and get to Tribeca by 8:00.”

The girls chose pocketed, A-line denim skirts, just above the knees, heavy cotton, fitted blouses and deck shoes. I wore the hiking boots, khaki cargo pants and a Polo shirt. A Walther PPK went into a side pocket. You never know.

“You guys have ID and money?”

“Student ID, emancipation card, laminated and debit cards.” The black haired one said.

“With contracts and such, proof of legal adult status is a good thing.” The redhead agreed, patting her hip.

I left Amy a note explaining the absence of Sam and Patty, giving her a free hand to herd the kittens as she saw fit, but to call me is anything got too weird to handle without calling in the guards. I gave her the Tribeca email address and phone number with instructions to send the.pdf marked ‘#55’ in my open documents file if I called.

Insurance, like the Walther, I hoped I wouldn’t need.

By 7:45 we were walking the last block to the building through a formerly industrial district, now popular for loft living, condos and upscale shops and restaurants. My place was evidence of a hundred-year-old robber baron turf war. Not the barons, the war.

Seems a well-financed group bought the properties on both sides of #55 Chandler’s Row and wanted it, too, for a heavy manufacturing operation, trucks or something. My guy saw dollar signs and held out for the big bucks. The manufacturing group copped a major attitude and told him to forget it and bridged twenty feet over him to connect the two separate facilities.

Thwarted in his extortion bid to hold the deal hostage, my guy extended his alley-side wall to the bridgeway above and across the back. The front got the same treatment with a twenty-five by twelve glass window overlooking the street.

Those old dudes used money like a hammer. There would be airspace problems today, but either the laws were not in place, didn’t apply or some city official had an open palm.

New York was a tough town.

The result was my building sitting in a notch in the side of a block long ex-factory. I did have a gated, fifteen-foot wide driveway to a small, 50’x65’ parking lot in the rear, but was otherwise surrounded on three sides and above by featureless brick and steel. The ex-factory was now fancy condos, lofts and fairly famous storefronts, making Number 55 a very desirable address, purchased before the gentrification went into high gear.

I called the private line to the live-in office staff, letting them know we were minutes away. “We’re a bit early, I know, but I wanted to meet you and tour the premises prior to the appointments with the attorneys.”

A soft Piedmont NC voice answered, “Beth Baker here. We’re not quite dressed this early, but we can be decent enough to meet the new boss. Anne is dressed enough to meet you downstairs.”

Just to get the details of the structure out of the way, here is a quick description:

First floor: Reception, hospitality room, kitchenette, business offices, customer restrooms and conference rooms. Loading dock, large, heavy freight elevator to basement and second floor.

Second floor: Law library, research, office machines, fax, high-speed Internet connections, server, phone hub, dated business records (paper and digital), supply closet.

Third floor: Three bedrooms w/en suite bathrooms, living room, and kitchen w/full dining set. Well appointed, stainless steel, glass and leather upholstered furniture, modern and uncluttered girly bedrooms.

Fourth floor: Personal storage, washer and dryer, treadmills, universal gyms and light weight bench. Topshelf conditioning space. Large open space, mostly empty.

Fifth floor: Clean, finished loft, one 30’x50’ room, one riveted steel column in the center, unfurnished. Brick walls. Sanded, polished oak floor. Exposed H-beams supporting wooden ceiling.

Basement: Unfinished, concrete floor, mechanicals. Possible armory for Ten Penny Personal Security. That’s what I wanted Laura Belkin’s people to call themselves. Room to park a Humvee or two near the elevator.

People elevator in front, B to 5, lockable doors and button panel, usually set 1 to 2.

Spiral staircase in rear, 3 to 5 and to flat roof only.

Roof patio: Accessible from spiral stairs in rear, tiled, heated floor. Lots of futons, several outdoor style chaise lounges and beach-type café tables. Martin had replaced the original window with heavily mirrored one-way glass. Shatter proof and unbreakable.

Brick clad H-beam steel construction, load-bearing column through the center core. All floors were wide-plank, highly polished oak. The lobby, carpeted. Throw rugs where needed.

Fire stairs in rear, accessible through steel doors, sealed safe-style from inside, electrified on outside.