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I woke to the gentle stroking of a soft hand down the side of my face. I opened my eyes and in the dim light saw the shadowy figure of a girl kneeling beside the bed. Her head was bowed, eyes downcast and her long, dark hair fell forward, draping her face. With one hand she stroked my face again, in the other she held a telephone.
“Billy is calling, Sir,” she said softly.
Groaning I glanced at the clock as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up.
As I took the phone from her, the girl moved between my legs. Eyes closed, she rubbed her face against my thigh like a cat, nuzzling and gently kissing the bare skin. I smiled down at her tenderly; she was a good girl, quick to learn and eager to please.
“I’m on the East Coast, Billy,” I said into the phone. “It’s 3:00 AM here.”
“Whatever,” came from the phone. I could hear the bustle of San Francisco streets in the background, the voices of hucksters calling passers-by to strip clubs and porn outlets – Billy was in his element. “I’ve got one for you, if you want her.”
The girl between my legs began gently licking my testicles, slowly swirling her tongue along and around the sack. I placed my free hand on her head and stroked her hair in approval.
“Is she clean?” I asked Billy.
“I know what you want, man. No drugs, I haven’t fucked her yet and she’s timid as a fucking mouse. I need to teach one of my other girls a lesson, so can you be here tomorrow night? She'll jump into your fucking arms after she sees that.”
I had three open beds and the newest student had been here for four months, so it wouldn’t hurt to add another. “Yeah,” I told Billy. “I'll catch a flight first thing. You still in the same place?"
"Same place," Billy agreed. "Bring the money."
"I'll bring it," I told him and hung up.
I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes. "Quickly," I ordered.
The girl's mouth engulfed my cock as she obeyed; a warm, slick wetness. She began bobbing her head up and down, taking me deeper until I could feel the back of her throat with each stroke, her tongue swirling around the head on the upstroke. One hand gripped my balls, massaging and pulling gently, while the other gripped the shaft, moving up and down in time with her mouth.
I gave in to the sensation and groaned. At the sound of my pleasure, she redoubled her efforts, moving her head faster, sucking harder until I was right on the edge.
I grabbed the back of her head roughly, twining my fingers in her hair so that it pulled her scalp tight, and shoved her down hard on my cock, thrusting at the same time so that I buried myself deeper in her throat than she had on her own. She made a tiny sound of pain and distress that sent me over the edge, finishing and pumping down her throat. She swallowed convulsively, over and over, wary of spilling so much as a drop and the feel of her throat muscles working around the head of my cock sent fresh waves of pleasure through me.
"Good girl," I told her, releasing her hair and I could feel her mouth curve in pleasure at the praise. She knew what was expected, keeping her mouth on me as her hands continued to stroke, gently milking my cock to ensure she got every last drop.
"I'll be leaving for a day or two, tell the others in the morning." She made a soft sound of agreement, mouth still suckling on me. "You can all work on independent studies while I'm gone and make sure things are ready for a new arrival."
"I will tell them, Sir," she said, taking her mouth from my cock, apparently confident that she'd gotten all I had to provide right now. "Would you like me to prepare you breakfast before you leave, Sir?"
I sat up and tenderly kissed the top of her head. "No," I told her. "You go back to the dorm and get some sleep."
"Thank you, Sir," she acknowledged, turning her head to give my inner thigh a last kiss before rising and backing out of the room with her head bowed.
* * *
"Bring the money?" Billy asked as I neared him. I sighed.
Billy was a procurer, he prowled the streets and bus stations of the San Francisco area, searching for new arrivals. Apparently charming enough, despite his greasy appearance, his role was to earn the trust of the runaways and homeless youths that were drawn to the city hoping for something better than they had at home. Once he had that trust, he'd violate it in whatever way he thought would best crush their spirit, usually drugs or intimidation or both, before turning them over to the full-time pimps, broken and ready to do as they were told. He ran a few girls of his own, but his main source of income was providing them to others.
I looked pointedly around at the deserted, dilapidated street. Billy stood at the foot of a dimly-lit stairwell leading up to a set of apartments. "You want it out here?" I asked wryly, touching my jacket where the envelope of cash rested inside.
"Nah," Billy grinned. "Upstairs." He jerked his head upward and spun around, leading the way. "You'll like this one," he called over his shoulder. "She's all cute and innocent-looking." He chuckled.
I followed Billy up the stairs and down a dank hallway to his door. He paused, key in one hand, the other palm up. “Cash?” he reminded me.
I pulled the envelope from inside my jacket and handed it to him. He pocketed it, grinning again as he opened the door and ushered me in.
Through the doorway was a squalid, single room, dirty and cluttered. There was a woman sprawled across the single bed, unconscious and badly beaten. I raised my eyebrows at Billy.
“Told you I had to teach one a lesson,” he said, shrugging. “Should make it easier for you that she saw me do it.”
I turned my attention from him to a figure crouched in the corner of the room. I approached slowly and squatted, examining her closely. Her thin frame was shaking and she kept stealing glances at the woman on the bed. Long dark hair that would probably be brown once it was washed. She wore a bulky sweater that hid most of her figure, but from the thinness of her wrists and legs, I expected her breasts would be small. Time enough to find out later, I thought. She’d been crying, but even with the tear streaks and red eyes, I could see that Billy had been right: cute and mousy rather than pretty. Or, at least, she would be once she was cleaned up and fed. One of Billy's tactics was to start keeping the kids hungry and dirty once he had control of them, then when he gave them food or let them wash they were grateful to him.
“What’s your name?” I asked gently, then glanced over my shoulder to Billy when she didn’t answer.
“Said it was Sarah,” Billy shrugged with indifference.
“Okay, Sarah,” I tried again. “You need to talk to me if I’m going to help you. And if I don’t help you, you’re going to be staying here with him.” I looked pointedly at the woman on the bed. “Do you want that?”
After a short pause, I heard a whispered, “No.”
“How old are you, Sarah?”
Another pause then a whispered, “Eighteen.”
I let my voice become sharper. “Let me explain how this is going to work, Sarah,” I snapped. “When I ask you a question, you can decline to answer if that’s what you want, but if you do answer I expect the truth. That was your one chance, so I’ll assume you don’t want to tell me your real age, but if you lie to me again we’re through and you can deal with Billy here. Do you understand?"
She looked at me with scared eyes and nodded.
“Out loud, so I can hear you,” I instructed gently.
“Yes,” she said.
“Good. Now here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to get up and walk out of here. You can follow me or not, it’s up to you. When we get to the street, you can run – I won't chase you. If you follow me, we're going to go down the street to the diner and get you some food while I tell you what your options are. Understand?"
"Yes," she nodded.
I stood and turned without another word, striding toward the door. After a moment, Sarah scrambled to her feet and followed, keeping a wary eye on Billy. He gave her a mocking grin and salute with the envelope full of money and laughed when she hurried her pace to get closer to me.
She followed me so closely down the stairs that I could feel her pressed against my back. When we got to the street, she tensed, but I didn't slow my pace, merely turned and began walking toward the diner on the corner. There was the barest pause where I thought she might bolt, but then she fell into step beside me, still close enough that she brushed against me as we walked.
I smiled to myself. Sometimes they run, but once they make that first choice to follow me I usually have them. I'd be giving her other opportunities to get away, but her reactions told me she wouldn't take them.
"Good choice," I told her quietly. "Alone you'd be picked up by another Billy within a few days."
She shuddered and edged closer to me.
"I thought he was nice," she whispered, nearly inaudible, "then he beat that girl so bad."
And I bet you think I'm nice too, I thought wryly. What on earth makes these kids so naive that they'll jump from one betrayal right to trusting a stranger again? A few weeks on her own and she'd learn to be wary, but get them early enough after they run from home and they're vulnerable.
Once seated at the diner, I said nothing more to her until after we'd ordered and the food came, letting the silence build. As she took her first, ravenous bite of the cheeseburger, I asked, "So is your name really Sarah?"
She chewed and swallowed quickly, "Yes."
"I'm going to ask you some questions, Sarah, and I'll remind you again that I expect truthful answers. If you're not comfortable answering, that's fine, just tell me, but if you answer it needs to be the truth. If I ever find out you've lied to me, my help ends. Understand?"
"Yes."
"How old are you?"
She looked down at her plate. "Fifteen," she said softly.
"Things must have been bad at home," I said, putting gentle understanding into my voice. I didn't bother to ask why she'd run away or where she'd run from, it was too early for that and not pressing the issue would help gain her trust.
"You have a decision to make, Sarah," I continued. "From here, you can try it on your own again." She looked down at her plate and swallowed hard when I said that and I smiled to myself, they never wanted to risk Billy and his ilk again.
"You can try a teen shelter, if you want. I'll drop you there." I saw no reaction to that.
"Or if you want to go home, I'll get you there, too." She tensed at these words, so I pressed it. "We can get on a plane and take you home first thing tomorrow. I'll even talk to your parents for you and try to smooth over whatever happened."
She'd been getting tenser and tenser as I spoke and finally blurted, "No!"
"Easy," I told her gently, a look of calm concern on my face, but inside I was smiling. I knew I had this one.
"There's one more option," I told her. "I run a school. A special school for kids like you, who've had to leave home and can't go back, but don't want to live on the streets." She glanced up at me and I smiled at her. "Go ahead and eat while I tell you about it."
"It's a small school. Never more than twelve students and there's only nine now, so you'd be number ten. That means that you'd get a lot of individual attention." It was always hard to keep from laughing as I said this part.
"I expect a lot out of the students because of that," I told her. "Excellent grades, as well as working hard around the school to keep it going. I am very strict, though, and we have a corporal punishment policy, do you you know what that means?"
I'd timed the question again for just as she'd taken a bite of food and she had to quickly chew and swallow. "I think so," she said, hesitantly.
"It means spankings," I told her in a matter-of-fact tone. "Or paddling. You may think you're too old for that, but I've found it to be very effective. You should think hard about that before you make a decision. Not everyone can handle that kind of discipline." Making it sound as though there'd be something wrong with her if she couldn't.
"There's no drugs or alcohol allowed," I went on, as thought what I'd just told her wasn't the least bit out of the ordinary. "If you're caught with drugs or alcohol, you're out. You don't do drugs, do you, Sarah?"
She was staring at me now, eyes wide, and she shook her head quickly. "No."
"Good." I gave her a reassuring smile. "Then you shouldn't have any problem."
I reached across the table and touched her hand gently, reassuringly. "Don't worry. You don't have to make a commitment to join the school without seeing it first. You can come back with me and see what it's like. You'll have a room to yourself and be able to sit in on the lessons and the field trips for a couple weeks before you make a decision.
"If you don't like it, you'll still have all those options." Time to lay those options out for her again. "If you want to go it alone again, you can. Or you can try a teen shelter. Or I'll still take you home if that's what you want. What do you think?"
"What about the ... the ..."
"The spanking?" I prompted and she nodded. I squeezed her hand again and gave her another smile. "Don't worry, while you're deciding, you're a guest -- that's only if you decide to stay. And even then, if you're a good girl and follow the rules, you don't have anything to worry about, right?"
"Right," she agreed.
"So is that what you want to do? See what the school's like?"
"I guess so." She hesitated.
I put an edge in my voice. "It's a choice, Sarah, not a guess. Which one?"
"I'd like to see the school," she said softly.
I gave her a big smile of approval. "Good girl," I said and she smiled back shyly. "Why don't you go wash up while I make the travel arrangements?"
She hesitated, glancing down at her half-eaten meal. "But ..."
"The food will be there when you get back, Sarah." An edge of disapproval in my voice again. "You should have washed before the food came. Look at your hands."
She did, taking in the grime under her nails, the result of Billy's tactics. She bowed her head and stood, clearly embarrassed.
"Good girl," I told her again. Time for some sympathy, as well. "I know things have been hard for you lately."
That got me another shy smile as she made her way to the restroom.
As soon as the door was closed, I pulled out my cell phone and called home. Caller-ID would let them know they should answer.
"Hello, Sir." It was Richard, sixteen-years old and good looking, he'd been with me for two years.
"Make sure the guest room off the dormitory is made ready, Richard. I'm bringing a new student home."
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