Story: Call Me Daddy 1 of 3  g16   
      
      
      
   (f-solo, Mf, reluc)   
      
   by Pan   
      
   Joseph Piller had a foster daughter named Alex.   
   Alexandra was really his wife's idea.  Mrs. Piller   
   was a god-fearing soul, and considered that there   
   would be nothing more giving in this world than to   
   take into their home some wayward child.  Or some   
   brat piece of trash, as Joe liked to think about   
   them.  But what Mrs. Piller wanted she got -   
   otherwise he would get an earful about god, hell,   
   redemption, original sin, and enough holy guilt that   
   would make even the pope impressed at its long   
   windedness.  So four months ago, Joe became the legal   
   guardian of Alex, a girl who had been in juvenile   
   detention at one point.  Her social worker said that   
   she had had a wild youth.  She was in trouble for   
   mostly petty crimes like theft and failure to report   
   into the state social system.  Apparently none of her   
   previous families had been able to cope with her.   
   She'd been out of juvenile for a year, and in that   
   time, six families had tried to take care of her, but   
   all had given up.   
      
   "Oh, it'll be good to help such a troubled child.   
   Don't you think, dear?"  Mary, his wife, smiled   
   angelically at him.   
      
   "Absolutely, dear.  Shouldn't be a trouble at all."   
      
   It wasn't a trouble financially.  Joe was a partner   
   in a very big law firm.  He entered young, straight   
   out of law school, mostly with the help of his wife.   
   Mary's father was the senior partner.  Now that he   
   was in his late thirties, Joe was a junior partner,   
   and making plenty of money.  They had a large house   
   in the suburbs, just outside of the city.  They had   
   four kids already, thanks to that Catholic stance on   
   birth control.  Two were already off at college; Jane   
   and Roger were still in high school, Roger at a   
   boarding school, leaving three open rooms.  Plenty of   
   room for one more.   
      
   Normally another stray brat would have been fine,   
   hell, he'd handled four already.  As long as his kids   
   knew who was king of the castle, they were fine.   He   
   had already shipped two to college, so they were out   
   of his hair, and Roger was going through his teenage   
   angst far away.  But this brat was all Denise the   
   Menace poured into the body of a sixteen year old   
   girl with an eyebrow ring and a tongue stud - all   
   that crossed with Damian the Anti-Christ.  Alex   
   rarely showed up for school for one thing.  Not that   
   Joe really cared one way or another if the little   
   bitch got an education, but every couple of weeks he   
   was dragged to a pointless teacher-parent conference   
   at St. Bonnaventure.  Then there was the noise.  She   
   played her alternative girl rock music at house-   
   shaking volumes.  And worse of all, she never   
   listened to his wife.  Normally that would give him a   
   chuckle, but every time she disobeyed Mary, he would   
   hear a thirty-minute tirade that night.  Home life   
   was becoming a big pain in his ass.  Then one day, it   
   got much better.   
      
   He was coming home from the office that day like any   
   other day.  A client was about to leave the firm for   
   another firm, and Mary's father was blaming him for   
   losing such a valuable costumer.  It was pretty   
   stressing on Joe, and all he wanted to do was go home   
   and veg-out in front of the TV with a beer.  He   
   pulled his Mercedes SUV into the driveway of his   
   home, but he noticed a pair of feet sticking out from   
   underneath one of his hedges.   
      
   Joe climbed out and threw his suit jacket onto the   
   seat.  Loosening his tie he walked over.  The feet   
   were wearing ratty canvas Converses and jeans that   
   were frayed beyond hope.  In the air Joe smelled a   
   distinctive sweet odor.  He grabbed both feet, and   
   yanked them out from underneath his hedge.  Out shot   
   a teenage boy with a ratty t-shirt to match his other   
   cloths.  His hair was long and unkempt, and he was   
   smoking a fat joint pinched between his fingers.  Joe   
   recognized him as one of the punk kids who hung out   
   with Alex.   
      
   "Mark, what the hell do you think you're doing?" he   
   asked.  Joe could be intimidating when he wanted to.   
   He stood a good six foot three, and working out kept   
   him well muscled for his age.  His once silky light   
   brown hair was balding a little at the hairline, but   
   still had a good luster to it, and his unshaven jaw   
   had strong lines, especially when he set them firm,   
   which he was doing just then.   
      
   "Uh... Mr. Piller - I was just relaxing."  Mark said.   
      
   "Yeah, you're looking very RELAXED from what you have   
   in your hand.  Do you know how much trouble you can   
   get into if you're caught with that?"  Joe silently   
   thought about how much of a pain it would be for   
   HIMSELF if Mark were caught with that on his   
   property.  He'd have to talk to Mark's parents, then   
   Mary would probably call a get together between them   
   and plan out some sort of stupid intervention.   
      
   "Where did you get it?  Tell me, and I might let you   
   off."   
      
   "Really?  Uh... right - Mr. Piller.  I got it from   
   Alex.  She sold it to me."   
      
   "She's dealing?!"   
      
   "Yes, sir.  But please don't tell her I told you."   
      
   "Where does she keep it?"   
      
   "It's just in her book bag, front pocket."   
      
   Joe then picked the kid up forcibly, and then took   
   the joint in his hand.   
      
   "Get out of here, Mark.  I don't want to see you   
   doing this on MY property again.  Understand?"   
      
   "Yes - sir!  Thank you, sir!"  And then Mark ran off   
   down the street.   
      
   Joe went into the garage and took a long drag on the   
   joint.  Throwing the rest into the trash he smiled.   
   With a sense of victory, Joe went upstairs to Alex's   
   room.  Now he had something to get rid of the   
   annoying sociopath.   
      
   Coming down the upstairs hallway, loud music filled   
   the air.  That and the soft Chinese carpet muffled   
   the sounds of his steps.  Alex's door was slightly   
   opened, so he peaked in first.  He could see Alex   
   lying on her bed, looking out her window and away   
   from the door.  She was a very slight girl of about   
   five foot three in height, and maybe one hundred and   
   five pounds soaking wet.  From his angle he could see   
   the short blond hair, which was gelled up in a   
   prickly fashion.  She was still wearing her school   
   uniform, a red plaid skirt with a tight fitting white   
   button shirt.  She had well developed breasts,   
   rounding out plumply from her chest.  Her shoes were   
   off, but she was still wearing white socks that only   
   cam up to her ankles.  But before he burst in on her   
   Joe noticed something else at her angles.  Her   
   panties.  He stopped when he saw the silky red   
   panties on her right ankle.   Moving up her bare legs   
   and to her red skirt, he saw that she had one hand   
   shot under the elastic waistband of her skirt.  He   
   stopped.   
      
   He watched as she drove her arm rhythmically under   
   her skirt.  Her other hand pulled her hem up a little   
   as she caressed milky thighs.  Her legs moved more   
   apart, and her toes started to curl with tension.   
   Her chest then started to rise and lower more deeply.   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)