Author: Lizard69
Title: Foster Whore
Part: Part 6
Keywords: Mg
This is a work of fiction.  If you have trouble with the boundary

between fact and fantasy, don't read it.  If non-consensual sex between
adult men and a young girl freaks you out, don't read it.  Do not under any
circumstances forward this file to anyone that hasn't specifically
requested it.  In case you haven't figured it out yet this is intended as
*adult* entertainment.  Do not allow it to be accessed by minors.  If you
have inadvertently downloaded it in a jurisdiction where such material
isn't legal please delete it immediately.  Do not re-post in whole or in
part without this notice.  Do not repost on any "for profit" site without
my specific written permission.  Copyright 2013 by Lizard69.

   Foster Whore Part 6 (Mg) Lizard69



   Amber looked up at Mary as they got on the elevator.  "I hate this
place. I'm sure the guy's a total creep.  Why are we even bothering with
this?  I thought you said I don't have to do anything with anybody?"

   "I won't argue.  I'm not fond of government buildings either and a
courthouse comes pretty close to being my least favorite.  Anybody who
actually *wants* to become district attorney almost has to be a creep
first. I meant it when I said you could turn down any potential client. 
You can also stop seeing anybody at any time.  Letting some guy have you
once doesn't create a future commitment."

   "So why bother?"

   "Because if you keep doing this long enough you're going to cycle
through the system.  If you're really careful and really lucky you might
make your stake and be doing something else before it becomes a problem. 
Until then, having contacts inside the system is your safety net.  The DA
decides which cases get prosecuted and how aggressively.  Worst case, if
you fuck up so publicly that he can't make it go away, he can still route
you through the juvenile system instead of trying you as an adult.  He'll
also be a lot more concerned about protecting your client list if his name
is on it."

   "I'm supposed to be keeping a list?"

   "Most working girls do, at least those at the high end.  In your case it
would be a bad idea.  It's a lot easier to pass it off as a one time
mistake if you don't have an appointment calendar that's booked up for six
months in advance.  Eventually you'll have to do something but by then
you'll be learning about the joys of codes and data encryption."

   "More home school, huh?"

   After stopping for a moment to consult a building directory Amber
continued.

   "I know some of the stuff you're teaching me isn't what I'd learn in a
public school.  The rest of it isn't the way I remember.  I used to feel
stupid some times when I didn't know the answer and it seemed like everyone
else did.  Now I'm starting to feel like you're making me look for answers
where other kids wouldn't get the question."

   "Welcome to the club.  Technically, I guess you're being abused.  I'd
like to think you're being treated as an adult.  It says a lot about the
society we live in that there isn't a bigger difference between the two. 
In fact, the only real difference between Bill and the creeps before him is
that you don't *have* to do anything.  I'll back you no matter what choice
you make.  That holds for any other pervert you're dealing with.  Please
don't get the idea that because I'm showing you how to make this work, it's
the only work you can do.  It's your call.  Should I make the pitch, or
should we go home and try to figure out some other way for you to make your
start up money?"

   "Make the pitch I guess.  What did Bill say?"

   "He couldn't help us on this one.  There's a couple of rumors, nothing
solid.  The best evidence he might be interested is stuff that *didn't*
happen."

   "Like what?"

   "A couple of cases getting held for lack of evidence that were a lot
more solid than others that got prosecuted.  A few people who should have
been looking at decades behind bars got shunted onto a, "treatment track",
and straight probation instead."

   "Treatment track?"

   "That's where you pay some court approved shrink a couple thousand a
month to help you, 'resolve your issues', instead of having Bubba in cell
block C ram eight inches of dark meat up your ass whenever he's feeling
frisky."

   "Oh."

   "The most interesting thing Bill found out is the head of the agency
that placed you is a close friend of this DA.  Add that to the places
you've been and you not being the only girl who had problems and the
situation starts to smell funny."

   "Yeah, sort of like a dick that should get washed a little more often.
OK, let's give it a try.  The worst that can happen is he plays dumb and
sends us away."

   They stopped at the receptionist to confirm their appointment and were
ushered almost immediately into the DA's office.  The plaque on his desk
read, "Bernard MacDonald", but all the advertizing for his last election
tagged him, "Bernie Mac", and the first thing out of his mouth was an
invitation to call him Bernie.

   "So, Mrs.  Miller, what exactly can I do for you?  I hope it's nothing
like the other issues that brought Amber to our attention."

   "If you're Bernie and she's Amber, I'm Mary and this will be a lot
easier to discuss if we keep it informal and mostly off the record.  Amber
seems to be doing quite well with Bill and I despite her rather rocky past.
Because her experiences have diverged so widely from other girls her age
we've decided to pursue a home school curriculum.  It seemed to make more
sense to help her mature in the areas where she is still a child than to
force her to conceal knowledge no child should have.  In some ways any
group of children near her age can't really be considered her peers.

   "I guess you could say it's those, "other issues", that have brought us
here.  In the process of learning about government and the legal system
there is a wide disconnect between civics class and her personal
experience. I would prefer that she resolve such discrepancies by learning
from people who operate in that area how things work in the real world."

   "I'll certainly try to help.  Keep in mind that commitments and
responsibilities of my job already make large demands on my time.  Also,
details of any current investigation aren't revealed even to other people
in this office that don't have a direct need to know.  In fact, many of the
closed cases have been sealed by the court involved.  The details are still
available to aid in future investigations but are no longer a matter of
public record."

   Amber jumped on that.  "My civics book says everything the courts do is
public.  It makes a big thing about how countries where the courts work in
secret are really bad places to live."

   "Uh, well, as a general policy that may be right but it really isn't,
'one size fits all'.  Often things work better for all concerned if certain
exceptions are made.  Take your own history.  This office has investigated
several cases, starting either from your own complaints or following up
leads from other cases.  Some of it would have been sufficient to press
charges.  If there were no other cases open we would have gone that route.
In the real world though, more cases are cleared through a plea than
through trial.  Because we never had to actually call you into court and
ask you to testify, you didn't have to get up and give the world details of
some of your life's worst moments.  Would you really want the things you've
told us during investigations to become public record?"

   "Maybe, if it would help lock them up.  I mean, I already reported it,
right?  One of the last things mom taught me was that if you aren't willing
to tell everybody, don't tell *anybody*.  Because anything anybody knows,
everybody can find out."

   "Your birth mother had some issues but she wasn't a fool.  What you told
us allowed this office to negotiate a heavier sentence on more than one
plea bargain.  Not bringing the information into open court allowed us to
keep other suspects from learning the full scope of our investigations. 
There are people who have messed up bad enough they should be in jail, but
not often enough or publicly enough to give us the evidence we need to get
a conviction.  If they discovered how much we already know they might make
a bigger effort to cover their tracks."

   "So they get away with fucking me.  And they keep on getting away with
fucking other kids.  Until you can convince them you have enough proof to
scare them into signing up for a jail term?"

   Bernie's face got red and he looked like he was getting ready to
explode.

   "Mary?  Could you pick me up later?  There's some things I need to find
out that really aren't anyone else's business.  I'll call you, or if it's
too much trouble I can take the bus."

   By the time the door closed behind her the D.A.  Had himself back under
control.  He was aware he'd revealed more than he intended.  He needed to
do some damage control.  He had no idea the girl in front of him was smart
enough to use that as an opening.  Amber wasn't trained as an investigator
but had been on the receiving end often enough to pick up a few tricks.

   "Bernie, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to get you angry or
embarrassed. I'm glad you went after some of those guys and really glad to
hear you didn't just forget about the others.  It would be silly for me to
get mad that you couldn't do more.  Especially since..."

   "Since what?"

   "I shouldn't tell you.  I won't if you're going to make it part of my
file.  Unless maybe you could keep it separate?  Like special notes you
don't share with anyone that doesn't need to know?"

   "Young lady, if there is anything you know that may contribute to an
ongoing investigation you need to tell me.  I have some discretion
regarding how and to whom the information is made available.  Everybody
does *not* have to learn everything."

   "Ok, but...  jeez, this is embarrassing.  The only reason I'm even
telling you is that it won't work so good if you don't know, and ask me to
get up in court.  The guys?  The ones that did stuff to me?  Everybody acts
like I'm supposed to hate them and want them locked up for like, forever.
Only, It's not like that.  It was really creepy.  Some of it hurt.  A
couple times I told, so the cops would make them stop, but I never really
wanted to send anyone to prison.  You're going to think I'm horrible but
after I got used to it, actually doing stuff with some pervo wasn't as
creepy and embarrassing as talking to a cop about it.  The cops didn't just
want all the details about what the guys did, they would keep asking me why
I didn't do more to stop it.  Like somehow what happened was partly my
fault.  I wonder what they would say if they found out they were right."

   "What?!"

   "Don't act so surprised.  We both know this kind of thing happens a lot
more often than nice people would admit.  The guys I told about weren't the
only ones that did stuff to me.  I'm not the only girl they did stuff to.
You just told me there are guys you know about that you can't put in jail.
There has to be guys out there you *don't* know about.  The only way it can
be like that is if most of the girls, most of the time, don't tell.

   "Ok, maybe some of the girls are scared.  I was.  Some of them would
rather do stuff in private than tell the whole world what's going on to
make it stop.  I know about that too.  There was this other thing though...
when I wasn't doing it.  Any time there was some guy around I had to think
about it.  I *had* to.  I couldn't help it.  I mean, after some guy had me
once, I knew it was going to happen again and again until something stopped
it.  So, any time one of them was around I couldn't help wondering if
that's why he was there or how soon he'd do it again.  With a stranger or
new guy I'd be wondering if he was the next one.  After a while I was
thinking about it almost constantly even when nobody was doing anything to
me.  It wasn't nice.  It sure wasn't anywhere close to what most people
would call normal, but it was a big part of my life.  After a while I kind
of got used to it.  Now that I don't have to do that anymore, well
sometimes I sort of miss it.  Weird, huh?"

   "Not as weird as you think.  It's called, 'abuse accommodation
syndrome'. Child Services should have set you up with a counselor."

   "They did but after a while I got the feeling he was more interested in
having me repeat all the kinky details than helping me.  Whatever.  If I
need to talk to somebody I'll ask.  That isn't what I came here for.  I
want to look at the case files and see what happened to the guys that did
stuff to me."

   "Out of the question!"

   "Why?"

   "As I said, these aren't public files.  They include information about
current suspects and ongoing investigations.  Sometimes a person can look
very suspicious without actually doing anything wrong.  It wouldn't be
right to destroy somebodies reputation without being able to prove they
committed a crime.  The descriptions of events and activities are enough to
make cops ill.  They're certainly not fit reading for a young girl."

   "Bernie, I'm not asking for access to any other files, just the ones
concerning what happened to me.  I was there, remember?  Right in the
middle of it.  The one they were doing it to.  How can a written
description be worse than having it happen?  Unless there's something else
in there, something you're not telling me about."

   He started blushing again unable to look her in the eye.  "Uh, I was
hoping I wouldn't have to mention this.  Along with depositions and
interview transcripts are the investigator notes.  Often irrelevant
observations, idle speculation, half formed theories that were later
discarded, leads that turned out to be dry holes, all sorts of things that
would not be brought into the courtroom if the case goes forward.  We're
not required to turn that information over to defense counsel unless and
until it becomes part of the formal court case.  The people who wrote those
notes while investigating the crime would be appalled at the idea of the
victim reading them."

   "Oh...Kay, now I get it.  You're not worried I'll throw up reading about
things I already lived through.  You're worried I'll flip out over the
stupid things some cop put in the notes he made.  No, it's worse than that.
You're in charge here.  Nobody is going to make notes that would get you
mad at them.  Some of the notes are probably yours.  You're scared that
I'll see the notes you made, or let others make, and I'll think you're a
creep!  Honest, you don't have to worry about that."

   "Sure...  Right...  The sophisticated and intelligent twelve year old
girl is going to rise above her personal perspective and look tolerantly at
the big picture."

   "Don't be nasty.  What I meant was that I already think you're a creep.
Mary told me that coming in here and beating you over the head with it
wasn't going to help.  It doesn't matter.  The important thing is that you
can help me find out the things I want to know.  I might be able to help
you in return.  If I can see everything you have I might be able to fill in
some gaps.  There are things I didn't waste time telling you because I
thought you already knew.  We don't have to like each other, just be
willing to learn.  Truce?"

   Bernie thought about it for a minute and finally gave her a tired smile.
"Ok, I give up.  I'll have one of the interns send up the file box from
your original case, the one where social services took you away from your
mother.  There isn't much in it and that case has been closed for years. 
It should still give you an idea of what you're poking your nose into.  If
you don't get bent out of shape maybe I can allow you to look at some more
recent stuff.  You can use the conference room next to my office.  Let me
know when you're finished.  In the meantime I have work to do."

   Amber waited until the intern left before she took her laptop out.  The
bag resembled an oversize purse and she hadn't made a point about planning
to take notes.  Bernie might have said it was ok but getting this far was
tough enough she wasn't eager to give him more reasons to say no.  Some of
the documents were already part of her personal file.  Things like the
summary of the interview with the protective services shrink and her
mothers surrender of parental rights so she could be adopted.  Most of it
was boring and tedious.  Page after page that could have been condensed to,
"nobody's talking and the people we most want to question are gone".  She
didn't pull out the scanner until she found the Polaroids.  While she
didn't need any mementos they'd make a great bargaining tool the next time
she had to negotiate with Bill.  The portable scanner was slower than slow
at high resolution so she continued digging through the box.  Her moms
voluntary commitment for drug rehab was years too late but a nice thing
anyway.  Franks plea and sentencing was short and easy to read but
impossible for her to understand.  She held it out while repacking
everything and returned with it to Bernie's office.

   "Hi, I was just getting ready to check on you.  I'm about to call it a
day.  What have you got there?"

   "I'm not sure.  I understand guilty or not guilty.  What does nolo
contendere mean?"

   "Also called a nolo or no contest plea.  It's a way for a defendant to
admit we have enough to get a conviction without admitting they did
anything wrong.  Usually by the time we're ready to go to court we have a
laundry list of charges.  In exchange for dropping the things we would have
a hard time proving the defendant will plead guilty to the rest.  Sometimes
we only have a couple of charges and the only one we can prove has a huge
mandatory minimum sentence.  We can't offer a break on the jail time if
they plead guilty but can make a deal if they haven't technically been
convicted.  A nolo plea leaves the question of guilt hovering out in limbo
somewhere and they will accept a jail sentence to keep it there."

   "Ok, that makes sense.  What's a suspended sentence?"

   "Most criminals start small and work up to the big stuff.  There's a
juvenile record, a couple times on probation, and at least one stretch in
the county jail before they're facing prison.  Giving somebody like that
another chance is a waste of time.  Life gets better for everybody else
when they're off the street.  Once in a while there's an average person
that screws up pretty bad but doesn't have a history of being a bad person.
Instead of having them occupy a prison bed or probation officer we need for
the really bad guys, we offer them a suspended sentence.  The conditions
attached are at least as tough as probation but they're more or less on the
honor system to live up to them.  The other big difference is that
violating probation usually means you finish whatever the term was in
prison.  Getting caught violating the terms of a suspended sentence means
you do the whole stretch, even if you were one day away from being free and
clear when you screwed up.  A real criminal can walk the straight and
narrow at first but as time passes they get sloppy.  They almost never
complete a suspended sentence.  Somebody who is basically decent but got
caught at a bad time is sort of returning to normal when they clean up
their act.  They usually live up to the terms and continue being decent
afterwards."

   "So they're not really getting away with anything.  What does expunged
mean?"

   "That's sort of a pardon in advance.  It's sometimes included in the
terms of a suspended sentence if the crime has long term reporting
requirements or can keep a person from getting a job later.  After they
successfully complete the sentence the record is wiped.  It's seldom
offered to anyone that has a prior criminal history.  We don't wipe records
for repeat offenders."

   "When you explain each part of it by itself it sounds reasonable, but
you had *pictures* of Frank doing it to me.  If you went to court that's
like being able to bring the jury over to our place and let them watch! 
How could you offer him a deal like that when he was so busted?"

   "You remember when those pictures were taken?"

   "Yeah...  Well...  Sort of.  Mom had me get into my skimpy school
uniform.  Maybe it would look slutty on a older girl but I was eight.  To
me it was just silly.  When she told me I had to do older girl stuff, we
started to fight.  I didn't want anything to do with it.  She was ready to
slap me when Frank pulled her away and whispered something.  The next thing
I knew they were holding me down and mom was sticking a needle in me loaded
with some of her 'medicine'.  I guess they gave me too much.  Things got
really dreamy and sort of confused.  I didn't understand most of what was
going on.  Even the stuff that hurt felt like it was happening to somebody
else."

   "Uh-huh, the lab reports from a blood sample taken the next day told us
you damn near died, would have if they hadn't kept you awake and moving. 
When you combine the fact that they were the ones that gave you the drugs
with the way they kept you awake neither of them were in line for hero
awards.  Both of them should have gone to prison.  When we brought them in
it was a race to see which one would testify against the other first.  The
shrink said you were uncooperative and would have a hard time testifying
against your mom.  We had pictures of Frank but bringing them into court
would mean telling everyone who took them.  After she signed off on your
adoption papers and signed up for rehab we were ready to offer her immunity
in return for her testimony.  She was back at the apartment picking up some
clothes when she decided to shoot up the rest of her dope."

   "So mom died and you decided to cut a deal instead of prosecute Frank.
What about me?  I was eight years old for crisake.  You have pictures of
him shoving his dick up my *ASS*.  Then you let him walk out with a
suspended sentence."

   "It wasn't quite that simple.  Your mom was in custody almost two weeks
before she got back to the apartment.  That's long enough to start losing
her tolerance.  We thought the OD was accidental at first.  It's still
listed that way on her death certificate.  Frank gave us the names of a
couple other people who bought from the same dealer, people who were also
having legal problems and looking for a way to lighten up.  These people
also OD'd and a pattern was forming.  If we pushed it to trial Frank might
have got ten years on a first offense and been out in five to seven.  He
got the suspended sentence for his cooperation in further investigations.
We were looking to hang the dealer for several murders including your mom."

   "Really?  If he came to *me* with a deal like that I might have asked
you to let him go.  So, did you get the guy?"

   "Not yet."

   "And in another year Frank walks away with no record he did anything
wrong."

   "Uh, not quite.  We still don't know if you were his first kid or just
the first one he got caught with.  He got caught again less than a year
later.  The judge gave him a nice long stretch and made his original
sentence consecutive.  Because there was no time already served he could
tack it on the end instead of the beginning.  He'd have to serve the full
term and part of the five before having a shot at parole."

   "How long is he in for?"

   "He's dead.  Somebody shanked him in the county jail while he was
waiting for the bus upstate.  I haven't decided yet whether to be happy
he's not my problem anymore or frustrated that he got off easy."

   "I know the feeling.  Talking with you is weird, like you somehow got
inside my clothes and did creepy stuff to me.  At the same time I get the
feeling I should thank you for it.  Maybe I will some day.  Right now I
need a shower.  Same time next week?"

   "Unless I can find a way to talk you out of it."
   End of part 6