Chapter 539: Brightening Dark Places

Time to show you that there are people in the world who do care.

The children seeking to live here were still in the interview process, cutting through all their bullshit and tearing through their defenses to ensure they were who they said. I walked Terry down the female side of the medical intake hallway.

“Arms up,” I told Terry.

She was barely twenty-one but responded to my command immediately and with a look of fear. I had her stripped nude before she realized it. When it percolated through her defenses that she was here naked, she started to panic a bit.

“Is this the price? At least you’ve had me thinking about sex with you from the moment you walked out to the ribbon cutting today,” she said with a blush.

I looked her in the eye and said, “You’ve spent the last ten years being raped by your father, stepfather, cousins, and uncles so that they would keep their dicks out of your siblings and cousins. Sex with me isn’t the price I’m asking you to pay. Plus, it makes a big mess. Well, that isn’t exactly true, and you do have the time. Well, you do because I got you terminated from your job.”

“WHAT THE FUCK! I NEED THAT JOB,” Terry yelled at me.

Before I could answer, a thirteen-year-old girl and a pair of twelve-year-old twin boys, also nude, came running down the hall toward Terry. Both boys were underweight. Terry had an arm under each of their butts to pull them up into her arms and hold them close. The thirteen-year-old girl pushed between the two boys to wrap her arms around Terry.

More nude children, from three to seventeen, came running toward Terry. Some of the boys naturally reacted to seeing their girl cousins and sisters naked, but they weren’t thinking anything sexual. She put the twins down and started hugging the others. Some of the boys with boners only realized they were hard when she hugged them. They were limp when she pulled back to hug the next kid.

It took her a few more minutes to realize that she was hugging naked siblings, stepsiblings, and cousins.

“What is going on here? Boys and girls aren’t supposed to be naked together,” Terry said.

“Why not? It isn’t something new to any of you, is it?” I asked Terry.

She blushed again.

“Why did you get me fired?” she asked when it finally hit her.

I pulled her into my arms and held her to me as she started to fight but then had her face buried in my chest, crying. I had the boys go back into medical with most of the girls. A few girls refused to leave Terry’s side.

It took her a while to finally calm down and pull back from me.

Terry moved back to give me a questioning look.

Probably cause more problems than it serves, but this isn’t for her as much as the girls here waiting for her.

I leaned in and kissed Terry gently on the lips with my hand on the back of her head. It took her three more kisses before she tried to lick my molars’ back. When she stopped for a breath, I sat her on one of the exam tables. Before moving south, I worked my way down to lick and suck her nipples for a few seconds. I buried my face in her pussy to show her I graduated, with honors, from the Annie and Crystal pussy eating school. Terry turned out not to get oversensitive after she came, so I kept batting the man in the boat about with my tongue as I did some finger banging. She was leaning limply back on the exam table as she tried to get her breath back.

Her sisters and cousins in the room with us are all over fourteen, so in for a penny.

All the girls were virgins, thanks to Terry, but I cheated to flip their cum triggers as I kissed them and guided them to nearby chairs.

“You are a creep,” Terry started to say.

One of the girls slapped Terry and said, “He is the opposite of a creep, Terry. We all want to screw him right here and now. David knows that too. All he did was kiss us, and we had the biggest ones of our lives. For once, you don’t have to protect us from a guy. You have to protect the guy from us.”

“Now that you have that built-up tension released, can we talk now, Terry?” I asked her.

She nodded.

“Now, I got you terminated because you won’t have the time to be the errand girl doing the low-rated, anyone with a pretty face, stories, and chaperoning a house full of kids. I expect that to be two full-time jobs, which is why we are transferring your brother here to help you,” I explained. “Unfortunately, he will have to wear an ankle monitor if he leaves the grounds until after the re-trial. As much as I want to go into the details, I can’t right now. He should have settled by the time the kids finish their mental health and have an early first dinner.”

“First dinner?” one of her sisters asked.

“You don’t think we are going to let kids who were lucky to get a stale roll and expired applesauce a day go gorge themselves on all they can eat?” I asked her. “They will just get sick and throw it all up.”

“All you can eat? What do you mean,” Terry asked.

I told her that we could discuss it further after she got done with medical and mental health.

I sent her sisters and cousins back inside to help with the others. I walked Terry to where they started with bloodwork and getting her baseline stats. When she got to the pelvic exam, I was there to hold her hand, but she didn’t need it. They finished before she even knew they had started the exam. She did yelp when they pushed the IUD inside her.

“No sex for twenty-four hours,” the doctor told Terry. “Expect some spotting today and maybe tomorrow. You have too much to do without worrying about being pregnant again. Before you even think about opening your mouth, let me tell you why your father, uncles, brothers, and stepfathers agreed to let you be their cum dump, Terry. You’re a borderline nymphomaniac and have been since you hit puberty. You love sex, and nothing anyone here can do will change that about you. There isn’t anything wrong with loving sex. If I hadn’t just put an IUD inside you and you were willing, I’d drop my pants to show you what good sex compared to what you’ve had so far in your life. Too bad we both have jobs to do, but maybe if things slow down in a few days. David saved me and, by extension, my children from me playing chicken with a train. My now ex-wife was a supreme witch. The last time I’d had sex before David hired me was six months before my three-year-old was born. The prenup had me bent over a barrel and let her get away with screwing anyone she wanted. If I divorced her, my ex-wife would get everything plus seventy-five percent of my salary and retirement for the rest of my life. Well, screw about anyone she wanted.”

Terry sat up and gave the doctor an odd look before asking how I could help with that clusterfuck the doctor brought onto himself.

“You see, his ex-wife wasn’t the typical trophy wife. She didn’t restrict herself to her tennis coach and pool boys. Per their prenup, there was nothing this doctor could do. Having sex with her children’s babysitters and son’s friends still wasn’t grounds for divorce. Sixteen is legal in Hawaii. In California, it is illegal for anyone to have sex with children under eighteen. Doing it in a family restroom in Mouse Park isn’t what the park is going for when they say it will be a visit you will remember forever. His ex-wife pulled a teenage boy train while her children held their spot in line for their next ride. Because someone forgot to lock the door, someone’s young children got to see the wrong kind of magic happening,” I explained. “The boys, and two girls, threw the woman under the bus, giving dates of each encounter since some of the kids turned sixteen. My staff pulled some strings to have his ex-wife, children, and friends transferred to my nearest foster care complex. Being that it was consensual, we had some wiggle room. Two doctors from my facility, heavily suggesting that mental illness caused post-partum after the birth of her last child, convinced the DA that this woman’s high-priced lawyers would ensure she got away with it,” I explained. “The DA happily agreed to the woman registering as a sex offender in all fifty states and D.C. as a plea deal. Everything comes with a price, and we explained things to her very simply. She gave her husband a complete, uncontested, immediate divorce and full custody of her children without any visitation.”

“That seems like she got off the hook,” Terry told me.

The doctor and I laughed before I said, “Oh, that was only a formality. We explained that we had confessions and security camera footage from her home corroborating her molesting those children and many more before puberty. Their home has three schools, a church, and a public park nearby. She would get arrested if she got near the house. No, her price was deciding if she wanted to try her luck with the judicial system or have her identity erased and work in a brothel.”

“How is being paid to have sex for someone like her a punishment?” Terry asked.

It took the doctor and I both a while to settle her down this time.

I explained that she was working on her knees, but instead of giving blowjobs, she cleaned up the mess. Shit-covered sheets, barf, being pissed on, scrubbing toilets, and other work had her doing the worst tasks there. If the woman did an acceptable job, she got to lick the cum and shit out of a man’s asshole. For a good job, it was a woman’s asshole. If they decided that the woman did an excellent job, she got to be one of the dominitrix’s shit and piss-eating bitches for the night. That also means she removed her “chastity belt” so Chihuahuas could mount her.

“Chihuahuas are tiny little yappy dogs. They must have tiny dicks,” Terry said as the realization hit her.

Terry did have a problem trying to pee in a cup. She must have only needed a good laugh.

If Terry had had any more pee, she would have made a mess when we explained that the doctor’s ex-wife chose the judicial system, making a full confession. What the woman failed to clarify beforehand was which country’s judicial system.

You have to love those places where they feel that a child’s innocence is precious and will stay maintained until their wedding night for males and females.

I thought Terry would cum right in front of everyone when she slipped on the silk panties and ultra-soft cotton sweatpants with a baggy t-shirt. Terry looked about as un-sexy as she could get. I pulled her hair back in a ponytail. It seemed to bug the shit out of her when it got in her face.

I dropped her off in the mental health department and looked for a side of beef. I found half a pig, some game hens, and a half-gallon of seafood bisque. No one came to give me shit about eating a lot tonight. I still felt like I needed to backfill on protein and calories.

When I checked the new arrivals, I found that half were sitting in a fenced-in area. They had food, water, and bathrooms, but that was it. I was furious.

“Whoa there, big boy,” a doctor told me as she waved security guards over with stun sticks and tranquilizer guns. “Boss or not, you don’t get a say with these kids. Come inside, and we can have a chat.”

Once in my office, the doctor told me, “Two-thirds of those in the fenced-in area are not children. They are adults sent here specifically by parties who wish to disrupt and destroy what you have built here. Some are from fanatics who feel these children deserve whatever God does to them and feel you are intervening with his will. The others have reasons all across the board, but they all have money and child cruelty as basic tenants driving the reason to be here. Now the remaining one-third were expected. They are spoiled rotten little snots who get treated like princes and princesses, given everything, but that isn’t enough for them. Each came here with the specific goals of terrorizing those we are taking in and making them serve these snots like servants. We contacted each of these children’s parents, and they said this went too far, even for their children. We will soon separate the children from the larger group.”

The kid’s parents were fed up enough with their kids to provide us details of things their children did that their parents paid off various people to make go away. They were nasty, ungrateful, and plain rude. Because many of the things their parents told us about are against the law, they asked that we process their children through the judicial system, fake names and all.

“I’m not sure I can agree with this treatment of these kids,” I told the doctor. “Won’t this keep kids that need what we offer from coming here, fearing that we will do the same to them?”

“Not in the least, David. We expect the opposite. These spoiled brats are getting treated the same as any child arrested for a crime will find here. Every child is treated equally in court regardless of race, gender, or color. It doesn’t matter if they are billionaires or penniless. Each gets fair representation and a punishment that fits the crime. Because these children chose to lie about their identities repeatedly, we will use those names. Part of cognitive-behavioral modification is that when they try to claim they are their true identity, we tell them they will need to convince us of that fact. Their parents, siblings, and house staff know the fake name their child gave us. They will tell the child about being warned that someone with that name would claim to be their child,” the doctor explained. “You’ve heard about being scared straight. These children are going to find out quickly about what awaits them. It is a heavily controlled and monitored process that has proven highly successful in smaller groups. We do have some general population juvenile delinquents who will be joining this group of children.”

The children from the fenced area were already confirmed healthy by their parents, including supporting medical records, so they went directly to juvenile detention intake. Each would go through having to strip, shower with lice shampoo twice, have their hair checked for lice and nits, and then have a body cavity search.

Well, that is what they were telling the children. It was no different than the medical exam other than having a finger up their butts. We didn’t need any releases from their parents because the judge agreed that if the children lied about their names, they would lie about having contraband.

Only when right before being taken to holding cells did they get their one phone call.

The calls pretty much went:

Hello?

Daddy, I’m in jail. You have to come to get me.

Who is this?

It’s me, <their real first name>.

Why would <their real first name> be in jail?

Lots of begging and pleading.

Good try, but we got warned somebody would call and claim to be our child to try to trick us into getting them out of jail.

More begging and saying it was them.

The person on the other end hung up on the kid. They went right into a holding cell with a metal toilet, some non-destructible pad as a pseudo mattress, and something on par with a type of paper that self-destructs as soon as it gets wet to wipe their butts. They didn’t have towels to dry their hands, and the sink only let out a tiny, measured amount of water every few minutes. It was enough to get a small sip of water or a fast rinse of their hands. A computer system monitored what they were doing to adjust the amount of water delivered. We didn’t want to get them sick due to having shit or piss on their hands.

A touch-screen bible is available in multiple languages.

During the interview process with each child’s parents, they isolated the foods their child detested most. We rotated through those various foods for each meal. Everything that they did got analyzed.

The remaining group inside the fenced area went through the medical intake facilities for unquestionably mentally unstable, aggressive, and violent kids coming to the complex. Because the kids from wealthy families knew they had to behave at some acceptable level, they didn’t need to go through here.

Today was the first test of this entirely new setup. We didn’t permit noncompliance. Each found that out at the first stop when instructed to strip. Designed for impact, the others waiting to begin their trek through the process looked through an electronically frosted glass window that went transparent when the person in the room refused to comply. The system sprayed a fast-acting, targeted paralytic agent that caused them to drop to the floor immediately as if they had passed out. Because only the muscles in the arms and legs were affected, they could express their displeasure as staff cut the person’s clothing from their bodies. Everything found inside the clothes went into a clear plastic bag. The person had to confirm their name on the bag, even if that was a false name. If they refused or didn’t answer, their items went into an industrial shredder. Staff left the nude person on the floor and triggered the release of the counteracting agent.

“Compliance is not optional. We only have one male and one female holding area where you will await further processing. Voluntarily complying will decrease your processing time, thus reducing the time those behind you have to wait to eat and use the restroom. Keep that in mind as you make your choices about complying with our requirements,” a voice said over the speakers.

The person who the staff stripped and shredded all the person’s belongings, or made it appear that happened, crawled to the next area.

The next station was a body cavity search, also with frosted windows. Voluntary or not, everyone saw the first one to make a point. We had multiple who chose to resist through the entire process. They thought they had outlasted us only to find that they went through the real grinder.

Each went through the groups that interviewed visitors. No one got the fourth interview before we knew every detail of their lives.