Chapter 1: Out-Patient Inquiries

Frankenstein had problems enough with his creation. I’m heading down the same tortuous path apparently

As is clearly evidenced by virtue of “Harper Valley Homecoming,” (an earlier chapter) the fluctuating fortunes as it were, within the Valley itself, are central to many people’s inner desires. I have never mentioned this, but throughout the past few years or so, I have received emails worldwide in great proliferation, many of these tellingly, from young girls pleading for a wild-card entry into an upcoming party. (Never actually gotten around to discussing who would be paying for the air-fare to get here!)

A while back ago, I opened-up an innocuous-looking email from one Khoa Tran, a Vietnamese gentleman living in Geelong, Victoria. Like many before him, he wrote that he has avidly followed the Harper juggernaut since it’s inception. Unlike many before him though - he then expressed a desire to bring his own daughter up to Sydney for the specific purpose of enrolling her as a guest participant in a forthcoming soiree.

I wrote back advising him that we no longer attended the parties as a family, nor do we handle “bookings” as such, for obvious security reasons. He replied that he had read “Harper Valley Homecoming,” however and that “all” he wanted, was for his daughter to be “shared amongst a few men” (his exact words) not necessarily a ‘party’ as such!

If nothing but curious at this juncture - I enquired as to what made him think his daughter would want this herself, as he had already confessed that she knew nothing of Harper Valley whatsoever.

In a very lengthy reply, he explained that his own wife had walked out when their daughter was way younger, leaving him to bring her up alone. Sadly, he then outlined how lonely he was and that with the advent of his daughter’s adolescence, he had become sexually fixated with her. She had, according to him, expressed her complete sympathy and understanding of his ‘problem’ and professing great love for her father, permitted him certain “license” to use her body for his own gratification. This he told me, included her sitting on him after she would return from school (or in fact any time of his choosing) and allowing him to grope her unrestrictedly, albeit through her clothes. He explained that groping of young girls itself was common in Vietnamese culture by fathers, older brothers and even uncles, so this was nothing she found particularly unusual. Furthermore she would let him lick her face, legs (below the hemline), neck etc - even dry-hump her from the rear as well as actually rub his dick across her cheek until he sprayed her mouth and forehead at close range. ‘Yeah right,’ I thought to myself.

If you can believe it ... all this she considered an “acceptable sacrifice” to make. For her unwavering acceptance of such behavior - he loved her he wrote, but that he was finding it now impossible not to experience the full consummated act with her. Herein the stumbling block evidently. Completely unwilling to allow him to either kiss her lips, put his hands in her bra or panties, undress her, let alone penetrate her, she told him she even found the idea of masturbating him - disgusting!

His logic therefore was that she would more than likely allow “a few men” to grope her and most likely masturbate over her - in the knowledge it would gratify her watching father, thus fulfilling once again, her role as a caring and dutiful daughter. What he anticipated however, is that whilst thus undoubtedly aroused herself, she may well not consider kissing other men’s lips, or having their hands up her skirt ... in the least bit ‘disgusting,’ Perhaps even allowing herself to be stripped and ultimately penetrated, was not beyond the bounds of possibility, clearing the way in her orgasmic bliss to allow him to finally take her.

It certainly sounded good in theory!

Now if I was to be brutally honest, though hardly in a position to speak for others I realize, I have never found Asian girls generally, to be much of a turn-on - any more than would I be for them most likely - but there again I had yet to see a photograph of Thao, not to mention a dozen or more shots of her!

Talk about an instant convert. This girl was arrestingly beautiful and in possession of one of the sexiest teenage bodies I have ever had the pleasure to lay eyes (let alone anything else) on. Lovely doe-eyes, perfect smooth skin, wonderfully sexy full mouth and for some reason not harshly Viet-looking. She was a total doll! Looking at those photographs and imagining her father’s hands groping her stupid as she sat there in his lap in her school uniform no less, was cranial meltdown!

So passionate was his written plea (obviously highly educated, his English is word-perfect), I figured I would call “the crew” and sound them out.

It was a stifling hot day sitting in the coffee-shop, me with my cappuccino - Jer, his latte coffee.

“Look, can I be frank Noel?” he started.

“Be whoever you want Jer,” I replied. He just looked up at me, humor never was his strong point!

“Well the fact is, you know - Asian girls aren’t exactly what we’re all used to ... Now if you want to get Sally back here...”

I didn’t even bother answering - simply pulling out Thao’s picture and laying it on the table alongside his latte.

“Dear God!” he spluttered, picking it up. “Is that really her?”

I answered by adding three more photos to the first, each one successively sexier by my reckoning.

“And you’re telling me she lets her father fondle her and rub his dick on her face? How old is she exactly

“Seventeen I think he said Jer,” I answered. The guy was having visible palpitations.

“This isn’t a joke by any chance?” he asked sheepishly.

“Well to be honest Jer,” I replied, “I thought he was jerking my chain first up, but believe me - it’s all on the level.”

I reiterated the culture-thing and the fact she would permit certain behavior but not other indecencies.

“So you’re telling me she lets him dry hump her standing up, lick her all over then cum in her face - but she won’t let him kiss her??? You’re kidding!

“That’s about the score mate,” I said. “When in Rome ... I guess!”

He was studying Thao’s photos again.

“Oh, we gotta do this,” he muttered

“My sentiments exactly Jer,” I smiled.

Replying to his email, I informed Khoa that I had arranged for Thao to be suitably “entertained,” if he was still of a mind to bring her to Sydney - but only on the obvious proviso that she knew what she was letting herself in for. He promised to get back to me.

I wasn’t expecting that to be within six hours!

The gist of his reply was that she had agreed to accompany him - mainly because she was tiring of being pressured for full-on sex by her father and had made him promise that if she did this and let him watch her being “groped” by other men, then he would stop pestering her for more than she had agreed to let him do to her. Damn, I like the way these eastern girls think!

The flight was set down for the following Saturday. I agreed to pick them up at the airport - the least I could do, I figured!

Some photographs lie - these didn’t! Thao was simply gorgeous. She seemed surprised that I referred to her by that name as she calls herself Caroline and is known as such - at school, by her friends and within the full embraces of her Australian life. I told her that I considered Thao the most lovely name and did she mind if I called her that? She seemed to approve, judging by the shy smile she gave me, which itself sent me deeper into wolf-hound mode.

Khoa, who also uses a preferred name of Bao, was indeed a pleasant and educated man. Fairly small, well dressed and with the entrenched politeness of far-easterners - almost a throwback to British colonialism, at the point he ushered Thao forward for that first introduction, I knew at once that here was an oriental Miss of rare perfection.

Dressed much like any other young Aussie girl, she had on a tight pair of jeans which from the rear did everything right and a skimpy little black camisole-styled top which left a healthy gap of bare midriff that showed off her curvy hips and flat abdomen to their best advantage. To put it succinctly - she was hot as Hell.

Her long dark hair obviously just washed and shining, complimented a really pretty face and the way she would keep brushing those strands out of her eyes whilst she talked softly, was most engaging. She had just the right amount of make-up and sexy lip gloss to complete the picture admirably. Looking at this dream - I just couldn’t imagine her sitting in her father’s lap allowing his hands to feel her up from top to tail - never mind Brad’s!

Having been born and bred here, she barely had any accent, although she would frequently break off to say something to her father in her native Vietnamese. Other than that - she sounded like most any other Aussie schoolgirl. Just made it all the hotter somehow!

I momentarily wondered if I should blindfold them both and get them face down on the floor but it seemed like overkill to me. This really wasn’t an occasion needing either a shoe-phone or the cone of silence that I could see. Nevertheless, once exiting the freeway, I took an unnecessarily long and convoluted series of back streets to get to Jerry’s place - almost got lost myself!

Jer had the rare foresight to leave the garage open, so I drove straight in and the door closed automatically behind us - our very own little R-rated eco-system.

Hadn’t even exited the car before Jer put in an appearance through the connecting door - for the express purpose of checking out the merchandise doubtless. It must have met with his approval, I could swear he blushed.

“Like you to meet Thao, Jerry, and her father,” ... over here Jer” - I had to wrench his attention off Miss five-two, one-ten pounds...”Mr Khoa Tran.” He shook hands with Tran but elected to take Thao’s hand which he kissed in his best Clark Gable fashion.

“A pleasure to meet you Mr Clarke,” she said politely. I wondered what she was really thinking? “What a dickhead!” probably...

“Oh ... call me Jerry, everyone does!” Jer mumbled, taking his time relinquishing her delicate little hand.

“Think she likes you pal.” I whispered, as we headed for the hallway.

“You think so?” he replied - the sarcasm right over his head!

Jer obviously had had little trouble making up the numbers. Brad, Connor, Graham, Steve and Craig were all presented to the young girl and her father, who any onlooker would have thought were just there for a social barbecue. I couldn’t say as Warwick’s (rare) absence was any great loss, I didn’t even enquire as to the reason for it.

One thing I will say for Jer - he’s a great host and very attentive to social niceties. The men all had a beer in their hands within five minutes. My JD and ice was sitting there on the bar and Thao he fixed up with a lime Bacardi cooler, after first getting the OK from her father. I think Khoa would have been agreeable to her being shot full of Southern Comfort with an ecstasy chaser!

Seven pairs of eyes, eight if you want to include my own, were studying that wonderfully hot and lithe body. Well that is what we were there for isn’t it? I think the girl rather enjoyed being the center of attention ... she sure as Hell wasn’t being too shy to judge by the flirty little smiles she was giving everyone. In fact I would have to say she seemed quite confident in herself - more so than a young Australian girl might have been ... especially on their own. I had the distinct impression she liked western masculinity let’s say. As it turned out - that’s just as well!

Now, it should be explained to readers at this juncture, that in my original “overview” to Jerry, all I mentioned as being in the game-plan was that the girl was expecting some sort of ‘communal groping’ and not necessarily en masse either. I presume Jerry had passed that message along to his cohorts.

In fact we seemed to have a bit of a Mexican stand-off all round. No-one seemed keen to seize the initiative - neither the men, Khoa or Thao herself. What we needed here was an intermediary, and thus in George’s absence, I took it upon myself to play anchor-man.

“Come and sit on my lap sweetheart,” I called out to her as she stood near the doorway sipping her cooler. That brought a pretty flush to her cheeks and she walked over and with little hesitation - sat herself down on my lap. Oh yeah! was that pleasant?

Well, the question of her maybe kissing someone else’s lips was answered soon enough. God knows whether she just liked me or wanted to put on a show for her father, but no sooner had she gotten herself comfortable than she turned to me and our lips just kinda met briefly ... then less briefly! She tasted delicious and whatever perfume that was she had on was simply inspirational, so was the view down the front of her camisole. She followed my glance down that-a-way and giggled. Glancing across at her father in the chair opposite I could see we definitely had his attention.

At the point I raised my hand and gently fondled her breasts, there was no gasp of surprise and fake protest that might be expected from a young Harper attendee. Instead it seemed to me that she thrust her breasts out to encourage further interplay. Suited me, she felt so hot and sexy, no wonder her father availed himself of her domestic behavioral traits. My groping took on a more in-depth aspect and as I slipped both hands up beneath her camisole, cupping the contents of her skimpy bra, she gave a little wriggle of pleasure and looked across at her father.