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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Leak - 2
by Nasty Pierre (no address provided)
***
A tender story of woe, set in a fictitious mansion, of
unbelievable size, in the fictitious mountains of S
Carolina. The wealthiest man on earth, and what happens
to his young daughter at the hands of a wicked aunt, a
long time member of the secret sorority of: Pi Loda Cum.
(F, huml, no-sex)
***
Chapter Two: Tears for Two
All fears are learned, taught without good reason, and
irrational. The unknown ignites suspicions, fears and
hatred in men. Problem is, almost everything does.
Laura'd never met her father's aunt and for good reason.
She could remember her mom mentioning the woman a couple
times, maybe three times in all their years together,
and the recollection of those moments still sent a
shiver up her spine. On each occasion the name was
blurted out with alarm, and rancor.
Her mom may have intended for it to go over Laura's
head, but it didn't. Instead it made a lasting imprint
and Laura learned to fear a person she'd never met. Now
she was saturated in suspense, bound to the anxiety of
that earlier age. Hatred was, of course, an impossible
alternative for this sweet innocent child.
Frightened and sobbing uncontrollably, Laura acted out
of desperation and darted for the elevator leading to
her father's penthouse. She then ran the short distance
to his study and tapped lightly on the door. She took a
breath, made to snivel instead of cry, and entered
politely.
Though she'd rarely been allowed entrance, it was a warm
cozy den that left a lasting impression, and she
discovered little changed. It had a high ceiling, the
finest wood paneling and deep bookcases that reached to
the sky. The shelves were crammed with books and a layer
of dust so thick it looked like freshly fallen snow.
Her eyes found and lingered on the single window still
draped in material of royal blue that glowed to the
sun's light. To her right was a chair and large desk
littered with the appropriate items - a lamp, a
notebook, papers, pens, and such. Before her, across the
distance of a Persian rug, was another door, probably to
her father's more private rooms. The light was
sufficient and she found her dad sitting in a chair to
the left.
Laura wiped another tear from her eye, and moved through
a room dominated by male aromas of cedar and lingering
spices. She moved through a masculine world and stepped
up to the cold beast posing as a father. Without so much
as a glance from him, Laura fell to her knees and hoping
to melt a heart of stone, began blubbering in despair.
"Oh please father... oh please," she sputtered nervously
while staring at her own hand between stolen glances of
him. "How can you be so cruel? Am I not your own flesh
and blood? Am I not?" Though hysterical, she sobbed with
control and hoped for the best. Even when in despair
this poor girl could do little more than whimper, but
Reele never moved.
In desperate attempts for a response, Laura began
tugging nervously on a small crease between two folds in
the fabric of her father's trousers. She pulled along
its length in gentle pleas for some recognition. Looking
up, she sought bearing from the stone sire, a glimmer of
light, a star from which she could navigate.
Any slight acknowledgment would suffice, but she
searched in vain, her gentle siege accomplishing
nothing. Laura realized all was for naught and decided
to leave before causing more of a problem. Dejected, she
bowed her head and made to rise and run away, until she
felt it. The cold breeze filled the room in a rush,
along with a foul wind.
It moved, he moved, Reele moved. He'd been sitting back,
burrowed into the plush leather cushioning of his over-
stuffed walnut armchair, from the Italian Renaissance.
He was enjoying the taste of an imported hand-rolled
Cuban cigar.
His eyes were following the smoke's curvaceous,
swirling, gently expanding plumes into Einstein's world
of an ever expanding universe, and the odds of playing
to an inside straight. He looked down at the figure on
its knees before him like one would an annoying insect
and rolled his eyes. Appearing bemused and being the
foul-natured cur he is, he began a long boring
dissertation. His blabber was unintentionally meant to
boggle the confused minds of the foolish and the clear
minds of the innocent.
"Girl..." Reele began.
"Huh," Laura returned in a stunned way.
"...Err, daughter..." he continued carelessly.
"Laura," the sweet sixteen year old choked out in a
sputtering offer of disbelief, in reaction to his
ignorance. She was introducing herself to a stranger.
Yes, a total stranger! Her own father did not remember
her name and likely never knew it. For sure he'd never
keep it in mind. How cruel, heartless and cold, how
bleak her world became. How ominous indeed, as the long
heavy veil of loneliness blackened the sky, engulfing
her in darkness.
Laura knelt in tears before a man who continued spewing
meaningless dribble. As if clearing his conscience with
the aid of rationalizations, he drove her mind to run
and hide. With despair and hopelessness, her brain
slammed the psychic doors of awareness and reason
closed, locking them shut. Unconcerned, her father
continued between puffs of smoke.
"You need to understand... 'Laura', did you say? Yes,
Laura... and yes... Mmmmm where was I... yes, yes... you
need to understand..." Her father droned on without
thinking of what he was saying, as Laura listened
without hearing.
The poor girl had given up trying to understand what he
was saying, and prayed for deliverance. She'd come up to
complain, to meet and to beg. She'd come to ask
forgiveness without knowing why, or from what. What had
she done to deserve this sudden terrible change? Things
were happening so quickly, so soon after her mom's
death, that she was overcome. All she could do was cry,
and pray.
As suddenly as he began, Reele finished. Though he'd
muttered nothing coherent he ceased his oration, took a
puff, and smiled in smug satisfaction. He then said good
night and ordered the girl to act her age, go to her
room and behave herself, which she did as if in a
trance. With knees weak and head bowed, Laura exited,
leaving a trail of tears in her wake.
Laura's life was becoming a nightmare, a long scary
road. It was not a winding, gently curving yellow brick
road, but a narrow and straight fork-less road. She'd
find no talking scarecrow in need of a brain here, nor
companions willing to help her find a wizard.
Mr. Reele Paines watched the door close behind his
daughter and then rose to his feet. He walked to a
nearby shelf, picked up a decanter and poured himself a
glass of Scotch. "Fucking brat, just like her fucking
mom," he hissed to himself. "Now where's Thelma, that
wicked witch, Thelma!"
To be continued...
Archivist's Note: This author did not provide an email
address so it will do the reader no good contacting the
archive staff for further parts. Check back at a later
time to see if there have been any updates to this story
by the author.
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 82