Chapter 352: Righting Another’s Wrongs

I’m making this right.

I pulled the head chef over and said, “Call the corporation phone number and tell them to change the restaurant to any name you chose, including your own. Elena wouldn’t have sent you to me if you weren’t on the ball. I will email them to let them know to change whatever the current financial setup is on this place and must change it to you paying me a fair-market lease rate for the building and five percent of the net. I will extend a revolving line of credit with a net forty-five and one-tenth of one percent interest after forty-five days. I own the building and property, but this is now your restaurant. There are a few conditions, though.”

“Always,” he said with a grin.

“Primarily,” I told him. “I will provide your sister with a company car and insurance for as long as she chooses to work for the foster home and orphanage. She will have to share a suite with other kids ranging in age from four to eighteen but have a private bathroom and bedroom. I would give her a suite all to herself, but this way, she has an adult in charge of the suite. I don’t care if she wants to keep living with you or split up where she stays. You will get access to the complex’s medical, educational, and other shared services but no access to the housing units. If your good with my offering this to your sister.”

He smiled and asked, “Can she screw anyone, or is that restricted?”

I explained that she would have to keep it to sixteen and older. While she will be residing with the other kids there, she is an employee, not a resident.

“Ella? Come over here a minute. David wants to ask you something and make you an offer,” he said to his sister.

“David, are you going to offer to let me ride your nine-inch long dong?” she asked.

I gave Electra a stern look before saying, “Not tonight, Ella. I do have something better if you are interested. It pays better than waiting tables.”

“I’m listening,” she replied.

“You already know that I own and fund the orphan and foster home complex,” I told her. “Tonight, you had no reason, other than being annoyed at not getting as much cash, or dick, that you wanted, for telling me about that manager. I can see that you care for your friends and choose to lose out on sex to protect kids that can’t do it themselves. You’re also smart. I would like you to work for me at the complex. You won’t want to work here anymore unless you want your brother to be your boss in a few days. I’m arranging for this place to be his.”

They talked it over, and she came back to ask, “So you get to fuck me when you want, and I get a posh pad?”

I laughed hard.

Finally, I told her, “Nope. I don’t screw you, and you don’t even have to live there if you don’t want to. If you choose to live onsite, you will have to share a suite with other kids, but you have a private bedroom and bathroom. Each suite has a chaperone, but they aren’t there to babysit anyone, except the little kids that need it. You will go to school there, but they will have all your school and juvenile records before you walk from the main office to your suite. We provide everything for you there, including a selection of clothes. We will pay you a monthly salary, but you have no expenses other than gas for any road trips you decide to take on your days off. A company car and car insurance are part of the deal.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Ella said. “You are going to pay me to live in a place where I don’t have any expenses, give me a car, and let me come and go as I please? Well, as long as I’m not cutting school.”

“Got it in one,” I replied. “Oh, the school has teachers there twenty-four hours a day.

“Can I fuck who I want in my room,” she wanted to know.

I smiled, called Electra over, and said, “Electra can fill you in on who, where, and such regarding sex with guys, or girls, after we finish discussing. They must be sixteen or older, though.”

“What exactly will I be doing anyway?” Ella wanted to know.

I smiled as I told her, “Besides doing all you can to be the best you can, I want you to do what you did tonight. Start with the kids on your floor. Find out who is interested in who. Are there people forcing someone to have sex or anything else the kid isn’t ready to do yet and stop things as you did tonight. If kids want to have sex, even if younger than society thinks is cool, then talk it out with them to be sure it isn’t for some reason other than to screw. You will have a two-way discussion with the chaperones to compare notes. I’m not talking about ratting anyone out. It is more about sharing your observations about the chaperone’s charges or getting suggestions on how to help someone. Sometimes, kids want someone to talk things out with people that aren’t adults.”

We went over how she could keep living with her brother, live onsite, or combine the two. I hadn’t planned this out all that well, but my implant was feeding me data about where she fit in perfectly. She went with Electra to chat privately.

One by one, I called in the helpers and teenage girls working as waitresses. All the waitresses were just horny all the time, so fucking the boss to take home more of their tips was a double bonus. On the other hand, the helpers were all scared they would have to let the manager rape them to get more in cash. When I told them that I knew about their families, they denied anything being wrong. I pulled up images of them and their siblings from when they had to go to the hospital. I had others when they didn’t go to the hospital, but the school documented each “accident.”

One told me that she had an aunt and uncle set up by the courts to adopt her and her siblings, should their parents be unavailable to care for them. It is mainly if both were in jail at the same time. We called her uncle and discussed how exactly they would take care of the kids. He told us that the moment the police booked both parents, the court-setup adoption was official. The girl’s parents already signed away custody to keep them out of jail.

“Get their rooms ready and go stock up for a big breakfast. Don’t expect to get any sleep tonight. At nine in the morning, a herd of people is going to descend on your home. Their belongings will be there before they arrive. Doctors will check each from head to toe, inside and out, before they can depart for your home. I’m going to kidnap your wife and every kid inside your house when I arrive. You are getting two months off, with pay, to complete the post-adoption whatever. See you in the morning.”

To the girl, I told her she couldn’t say a thing to anyone for now. I sent her to join Electra to get herself full as well. After that, she needed to have snacks and meals made up for her siblings.

A thirteen-year-old helper came into the office, locked the door, and stripped. Her helper uniform was pants, a black lace camisole, and a semi-transparent blouse.

I had to calm myself when I saw that the only parts of her body without bruises were what her uniform showed and her baby-bare pussy. She didn’t even have tits yet. She stood five-foot-eight but hadn’t hit puberty. Her chest showed the welts from the fake tits that she had to push out the cami.

I held my arms open to her. She rushed to me, got in my lap, held on to me for dear life, and cried. I comforted her until she was ready to talk.

“The manager said if I sucked his dick each night and let him try to do me whenever I could sleep at his house, he would get me fake boobs so I could work here. Most of the bruises from today are from my mom and dad. I didn’t bring home enough money last night. I told them tonight I would make sure I did whatever I needed to bring them more tonight. Beating the hell out of me is the only reason my brothers and sisters are still alive,” she told me.

I kissed her forehead and said, “Sorry to disappoint. No blowjobs or sleepover at that guy’s house tonight. You’re moving, with your siblings, into the foster home and orphan complex. All those over ten have a bedroom and bathroom of their own. Those younger live in the shared family area, but the configuration for their rooms depends on a bunch of other things. They are going to beat you there because you must go through medical first. I have people whose jobs are to know family treasures, junk, and items that cause reminders of traumatic times. Let me know when you are ready to dress. I’ll hold you until then, ok?”

“Only if you take off your shirt. The material bugs my skin,” the girl said softly.

I did, and she was soon sound asleep in my arms.

The door to the office unlocked, and the chef’s sister slipped in.

“You were off by two years. This girl is only eleven. Tomorrow morning, she was to go to his house to blow him and let him try to get into her to get her a job here. Now she will move in with her siblings in their suite in the foster home residence until we can find safe family members to take them in or the courts permanently take them out of their parent’s custody. I’m going to let her sleep a while longer. I don’t think she has slept more than half an hour in weeks,” I explained.

She smiled, sat next to us, and gently stroked the girl’s cheek until she woke up.

When the girl lifted her head, the chef’s sister said, “Hey, Pepper. Do you want a nightgown with panties or pajamas?”

“Panties, pajama pants, nightgown over the top, and my jacket, please,” the girl said.

I helped her dress and then carried her out to the van waiting outside to take her, Electra, and Ella to pick up the girls at the manager’s house.

My phone streamed my implant with dozens of cameras from the police, hidden ones in the manager’s house, and some sources I knew came from the man-in-the-machine’s abilities to do things with tech that wasn’t known to anyone in the world. The manager lined up to slam his cock through the youngest girl’s cherry when the police burst into his house. With his semen, from blowjobs, on each girl and Ella’s anonymous email with his cloud account details, they don’t require the girl’s testimonies to haul his ass to jail.

Having seven cameras to record the action from multiple angles and the girls using hand cameras, you confessed to your crimes already. Dumbass.

Once the van was on the way, I had the other girl guide me to her home to get her siblings. She had four take-out bags with snacks for herself and her siblings. Without the girl knowing, I arranged with the police to get the children out of the apartment without any additional physical or mental abuse.

“Here is what we are going to do tonight when we get to your house. I’m going to come inside with you so that you can wake up your siblings and get them ready to go to your aunt and uncle’s house. I can’t go into how. Just know that the police are waiting on us to arrive to get your siblings out of the house safely before they arrest your parents. From what I learned, both parents have been using your siblings as punching bags today while you are at work. Have your brother show you the video he took while hiding in the closet to get away before one of your parents hurt him again tonight,” I explained. “Now, if you want to liven things up with your mom, that is up to you. I’m going to hit your dad below the belt. Everything I say will be the truth, but he won’t want to hear it. Men better than him have tried to hurt me and failed miserably, so don’t worry about my safety.”

On the way, she texted her eleven-year-old sister and thirteen-year-old brother to tell them to wake their siblings quietly, get them to use the bathroom, put on house slippers, and pack up any stuffed animals they slept with each night. They would stay with their aunt and uncle, but she didn’t say for how long.

Once at her house, I walked inside with her, much to the instantaneous angry response from her father. Her mother grabbed the girl’s hair and dragged her toward the stairs because she brought a stranger into their home unannounced.

The dad got up in my face and yelled, “Just who in the fuck do you think you are walking into a man’s home with his twelve-year-old daughter.”

“I’m a friend of hers from work, giving her a ride home. I came in because there were some issues at work tonight with the manager. They froze her earnings until the lawyers sort everything out. She did an excellent job, by the way. It was her manager writing off tens of thousands of dollars in meals that caused problems tonight. At least she didn’t have to let him pop her cherry tonight to get a piece of the tips on that free meal,” I told him. “I thought that it is my responsibility to tell you this so you don’t start slapping her around because of things she couldn’t control. I can see your wife is getting started with her turn abusing your daughter tonight.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you, and her. How dare you come into my house and accuse me of abusing my children?” he yelled as he pulled out a gun from somewhere.

I replied, “You misunderstood. I didn’t accuse you or your wife of child abuse. You already have an established pattern of child abuse, so I only stated fact. I do suggest you put your gun away from you get hurt.”

With my phone in my shirt pocket, it captured him chambering a round, taking off the safety, and aiming at my head. With the brick fireplace behind me, I let him crank off four shots before taking the gun away from him and field stripping it before he even knew what happened. His wife managed to fire two gunshots from upstairs before one of her sons broke her arm with a baseball bat. The police were already rushing in due to the gunfire.

“I’ve spoken with the district attorney. The child abuse charges will provide a reason to remove their children from their homes for their safety. Each being on parole for past offenses removes their second amendment rights to bear arms. They cannot own or possess any weapons or store them inside their home. Each violated their probation and thus now will have to serve out a minimum of twenty years in prison,” a detective told me.

I didn’t know this girl had siblings between six and seventeen, born ten to fourteen months apart. That included a twelve-year-old boy with a half-grown dick and a ten-year-old with a thick muff warmer. I was helping buckle the kids into their car seats to find that they all wore long t-shirts or nightgowns, and that was it. I tucked their shirts in between their legs to give some insulation from the belts and crotches.

I don’t need some jackass cop on a power trip to pull me over and then bitch about me not following some crazy “suggestion” that says kids under a hundred-pound or thirteen are in car seats, or at least boosters.

“Joe and I can take some turns driving if you want to switch off. Since we got our licenses, we have played a taxi service for our siblings,” the seventeen-year-old girl told me.

I smiled as I replied, “Thanks. If I get tired or need a break from driving, I will let you know. To get my license at fifteen, I went to a driving school where I repeated the exercise until I got it right, even if that meant only an hour or two of sleep on the couch at the school. It was an exhausting few weeks. This drive is nothing.”

“You won’t say that as soon as mom or dad make their one phone call. Why do you think we have so many accidents and falls, but we’ve never talked to social services? They will be out before the cops even finish typing in the report,” A young girl said.

I made eye contact with her and then said, “Not this time, sweetheart. You see, convicted felons possessing guns causes the court to revoke their parole automatically. A convicted felon using a weapon to commit a crime is also a felony. They fired six shots at me, so the district attorney can turn them into six counts of attempted murder or at least aggravated assault on a minor.”

“They don’t care about going back to jail,” the girl said morosely. “They knew that they are going back inside for a long time. No. They will call their ex-con buddies to make us have a fatal accident before making it to our aunt and uncle’s house. Until we arrive there, we are still our parent’s children. They remind us frequently about how they brought us into this world, and they can take us out.”

“Well, I guess it is good that I went to the performance driving school. Part of instruction centered around driving to protect their clients. I know you can’t feel it, but this van is bottom-heavy, so it will be difficult to flip over. The chassis is from a top-of-the-product-line commercial pick-up truck. It is a rolling rock, but that is good because they can’t easily use a PIT maneuver to spin us out. After I went to that driving school, I can’t watch a car chase scene without seeing that it is all movie magic. It can’t happen in real life,” I told her.

My phone pinged my implant to tell me that one of their parents did call their goon squad to come after us. They were tracking us and closing in fast.

“Everyone. Listen!” I yelled. “Your parents called someone to keep us from reaching your aunt and uncle’s house. They are tracking us using GPS. Shut off all your electronic devices and pull the batteries out. If you can’t get the battery out, then drop it out the window. I will get you a replacement. If they can track us that way, then we have to ensure that we take that advantage away from them.”

I used the place in my head to look for any signals from anywhere in the van. As I feared, the iFruit products made it impossible to get to the battery. When powered off, they went into a low-power state versus powering off. Each received GPS and cell tower data triangulates their position. Every few minutes, it pings the cell towers with this NMEI of the phone and coordinates. Crapple buries this in their mouse type agreements and denotes it as a safety feature. The location reporting process can run for a week If the phone stays off. I sucked to tell them they had to drop their iFruit devices out of the window to keep them from tracking up. Two of the android OS devices had to go too.

That takes care of them tracking us by GPS or cell towers, but not the five vehicles already in their way to intercept us.