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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
Mature story contains dark themes involving graphic violence and taboo topics that may contain triggers for sensitive readers. Please do not read further if this bothers you.

Rich Boy: Awakening - 1. Chapter 1

The office was painfully modern, not at all what one would expect from the office of a powerful attorney. Still, the room was spacious, and the large windows behind the desk gave a spectacular view of the city, and the lake. Worthington Michael Sinclair, the Fifth, sat in one of the armchairs facing the attorney behind the desk with perfect posture.

His light blond hair was gelled and sprayed perfectly into place. The famous winds outside would barely ruffle it at all. His tall, lean frame was fitted perfectly into the dark suit he was wearing. His shoes caught every light and reflected them in dazzling rainbows whenever someone glanced at them. Worthington was every bit the image of the perfect, well-heeled young man of an affluent, old blood family.

“You must be joking.” Worthington sneered into the silence that had stretched between him and the attorney who had handled his family’s affairs as long as he could remember. Randall Smythe, Esquire, a lean man with a fringe of silver hair on his otherwise bald head shook his head slightly at the response to what he’d just read. Men and women would wet themselves on finding him involved on the other side of a legal dispute, but to Worthington he was as familiar a presence, and as friendly, as either of the young man’s parents.

Not that even that kind of relationship meant much to either of them.

“I wrote the will myself, Worthington.” Randall Smythe kept the hard edge out of his voice, if just barely. “If it is challenged, the battle will be long and costly for anyone. In the end, most of the provisions will be upheld though. No one could foresee what happened to your family, but I prepared the will for almost any circumstances, even this one.”

“You prepared it for my entire family being slaughtered by an Act of God?” Worthington nearly snorted, barely turning it into a sneer in time. He was sixteen now, and needed to always present the right image.

“Not your entire family.” Smythe reminded him. “Fortunately for you, there is an Aunt, and two cousins on your mother’s side of the family still alive.”

“Not to mention my dear Uncle.” Worthington snapped brusquely.

“Which is why you should be grateful your Aunt is alive, and your father had me prepare the will to such exacting standards.” Smythe snapped right back. “If we were less prepared, your Uncle would manage to acquire custody of you, and by the time you reached your majority there would be no money left in the family’s accounts. If you lived to reach your majority, that is. Your father’s brother has never forgiven your father for manipulating your grandmother into excluding him from the family’s fortunes. Your uncle lost eighty million because of your father, and won’t hesitate to ruin you in revenge.”

“Maybe he already got his revenge.” Worthington said sourly. “Maybe he prayed to God and God called the lightning down on my family.”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Randall Smythe nearly yelled as he slapped his hand on the desk in a rare display of emotion. Worthington stared at him in near-shock. All his life, he had never seen such emotion from the attorney unless it was staged; a courtroom display.

“I apologize.” Worthington said in a slightly lower tone of voice.

“Apology accepted.” Randall said with a frown. He tilted his head down and looked at Worthington through his long eyelashes for a moment. “I know you and your parents were never close, Worthington. You have never been allowed to get close to anyone, really. There were reasons for that, of course, as with everything your father did.”

“I know.” Worthington said quickly, although he resisted the urge to squirm at how the nature of the conversation had changed. “There is no need…”

“Listen for a moment.” Randall’s voice cut him off. There were few people in the world Worthington would let talk to him like that. Randall was one of three still alive. “Everything will be made clear to you, in time, Worthington. For now, you need to know that what is happening is for the best. There is a reason for everything that is happening. Trust that your parents had your best interests in mind when these arrangements were made. I will protect your interests to the best of my abilities until you reach your majority, but you must cooperate.”

“I do not want to spend the summer in Arizona.” Worthington sneered with a slightly curled upper lip. His lips were thin, he knew, but they were a deep red that people often thought he highlighted with lip gloss, something he would never, ever do. Part of it, he knew was because his skin was so pale. Staying out in the sunshine that could produce a nice healthy tan, but it would turn the skin to leather as he aged, and he didn’t want that.

“You may have grown up surrounded by luxury, Worthington, but you are far from being spoiled.” Randall said sternly. “All your life you have known the rules and followed them. Do not change that now.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Worthington asked directly. With no one else would he have been so forward, but he had known this man all his life. There was no one else he’d known as long, not anyone living that is.

“I met your father when we attended your school together.” Randall said softly and Worthington raised a single eyebrow.

“I knew you two had known each other for a while, but that long?” Worthington asked in surprise. His father had had many friendly acquaintances, but this attorney was the only one Worthington had ever seen his father relax around.

“Yes, that long.” Randall said with a very slight smile on his face. “Your father and I were roommates at school.”

“Oh.” Was all Worthington could say.

“I was there on the day you were born, Worthington.” Randall further surprised him.

“Then why weren’t you there on my birthday?” Worthington asked with very slight tilt of his head.

“I was on my way.” Randall said with a sigh and a shake of his head. “I had to be in court for one of my other clients and was not able to make it there on time. How do you think I arrived before the police?”

“I hadn’t thought about that.” Worthington admitted.

“We were all lucky that you were not out in the back with your parents and the rest of your family.” Randall said with a shake of his head. “The thunderstorm was unusual this time of year.”

“Yes, it was.” Worthington agreed with a visible grimace. It hadn’t been luck that had saved him, rather it had been lust. Upon seeing the storm clouds gathering, his mother had ordered tents erected in the back yard to protect the hundred or so guests that were coming for the party. She had been showing his female relatives all the wonderful preparations she had made while his father had been smoking cigars and discussing the wild swings of the futures markets when the lightning had struck. He should have been down there, but there had been that slender laborer hired to help erect the tents. The man was a few years older than Worthington, with short black hair, well-built arms, and that dark latino skin that always set Worthington’s heart to racing. It had made such a fine contrast against his own as his cock slid in and out of the man.

Fortunately they had finished their deed when the lightning struck, killing all his family and many of the caterers hired for the party. The investigators were saying it was all the stereo equipment for the band, and the dance floor that had attracted the lightning. A forked bolt had leaped out of the sky, killing both his parents as well as the business partners, family members, and caterers. The national media had a field day, and even his Uncle had managed to get on the news with his claims the act was God’s Judgment on the sinful.

Worthington had slipped a thousand dollars into the pocket of the laborer as he snuck the man out of the house before the police arrived. That should be more than enough to keep the man silent, and just in case Worthington had talked with Randall to make sure the attorney did what was necessary to keep the man silent. A reminder of Worthington’s age, and the penalty for having sex with a minor should keep the man’s mouth quiet, along with a good amount of money. It wasn’t the first time Randall had worked to keep someone silent after a sexual encounter with a Worthington Sinclair.

“Did you know a third bolt hit the house at the same time?” Randall added and Worthington felt himself shiver.

“I know the power went out, but wasn’t that the surge from the gardens?” Worthington asked.

“No, it was a bolt hitting the house’s…ah, lightning rod.” Randall stumbled for a moment and Worthington realized the man must actually be grieving the loss of Worthington, the Fourth.

“I know this must not be easy for you.” Worthington said as kindly as he could. He remembered then that the man didn’t have a family of his own. No wife, no children – just his law firm.

“No, it is not.” Randall said with a frown. “I hope you won’t make it more difficult. Your Aunt may not be your ideal guardian, but she is far better than your Uncle.”

“I can see that.” Worthington agreed. “But why can’t you be my guardian? You are my father’s oldest friend. I could just stay at the house, you know, until school starts.”

“Precisely.” Randall Smythe said with a quick nod of his head. “I am your father’s friend and attorney, not your father’s brother, or your mother’s sister. The rights of blood relatives take precedent in a court of law. Your Uncle could use his blood relation to gain custody over you.”

“But you could prove him unfit.” Worthington countered. “His feud with my father should be enough…”

“You are not your father.” Randall shrugged, imitating Worthington’s Uncle’s cadence. “My feud was with his father. He is a young man, in need of guidance and the love of his family.” Then Randall’s voice returned to its normal way of speaking. “Then he would quote a few bible verses and remind everyone he is a married man, with three children of his own, and how it would be better for you to be surrounded by loving family than a single man who was your father’s friend.”

“But, he can still pull that family card.” Worthington countered. “She’s a lesbian, living with another and they have two kids by artificial insemination. You know he’ll tear them apart in court.”

“The courts in this state, and your Aunt’s home state are a lot more understanding of alternative families now.” Randall shrugged ever so slightly and his lips were upturned slightly. “Add that she is your full blood-relative, and that she is expressly named in the will of your parents whereas your Uncle is not, and our case is a lot stronger. If this were Virginia or another state like that, it would be more trouble, but as it is, we will do fine if your Uncle seeks to challenge this.”

“You sound confident.” Worthington stated.

“I am.” Randall assured him. “Do not worry. I have spoken with your Aunt already. She is willing to take you under the terms of the will. You will stay with her for the remainder of the summer in her home, and return to school in the fall. Your holiday breaks will be spent with her, or as she directs until you have turned twenty-one. Then you will reach your full majority and legally inherit. Those were the terms of the will.”

“I know.” Worthington grumbled lightly. Poor people were considered legal adults at eighteen, but for some reason when you inherited hundreds of millions, or even billions, of dollars, they expected you to wait a few more years before having your full adult rights.

“Your Aunt and I will operate under a two-person rule as executors for your estate.” Randall continued. “Both of us must approve any major financial decisions. She retains full parental rights, though, regarding your upbringing. I suggest you follow whatever reasonable rules she sets. You may always call me if you have questions.”

“I understand.” Worthington said.

“Good.” Randall said in a quiet tone. “I know you will be fine, Worthington. Your father was proud of you.”

“He never mentioned it.” Worthington noted sourly.

“Your father was never a demonstrative man.” Randall shrugged. “We were all surprised at how emotional you were as a child. No Sinclair has ever been quite like you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Worthington wondered aloud as he let old thoughts percolate from his subconscious. With a purely internal sigh, he pushed them back down into their hole, and put the lid back over them – the thoughts, and the feelings that came with them. For a moment there, he had started to imagine mind-numbing grief from Randall. He always had an overactive imagination, he knew, and the governesses his parents had hired had worked hard to get him to control that imagination. His hands still ached on occasion from the rulers some used to slap them when he let his imagination run away from him.

“It is neither.” Randall shrugged. “You know the lessons. They are the same lessons your father learned. Facts exist. They are neither good nor bad. It is what is done with them that determines their nature.”

“I am quite sure my Uncle disagrees with that.” Worthington said with a snort. He’d managed to listen to a few of his Uncle’s sermons on television before nausea overtook him. The man was repugnant in every way imaginable.

“Your Uncle never had the same education as your father – and you have received.” Randall said coolly.

“Why was that?” Worthington asked and Randall actually laughed!

“You will discover that this fall.” He said mysteriously. “The funerals are all over, the readings of the wills completed, and it is time for us to all move forward with our lives. I know you do not like this… resolution, but it is for the best. As I said, I’ve spoken with your Aunt. She is taking care of some other business this morning but will be by the estate later today. I believe she wants to discuss arrangements for the staff there with you before meeting with them. You should expect her to discuss living arrangements in Arizona at that time.”

“How long?” Worthington asked.

“How long before she expects you out there?” Randall clarified and Worthington nodded. “I believe she has purchased a plane ticket for the day after tomorrow. You will return with her.”

“Thank you for everything, Mr. Smythe.” Worthington said as he stood up. They shook hands before the young man turned to leave the office. He wore a neutral expression on his face, which turned into the slightest of frowns as he got into the waiting limousine. Fortunately, he had the entire hour drive back to the estate to work on his emotions, pushing them down and locking them away so that he no longer frowned by the time he got out of the car at his family home.

It was a mansion, with many rooms, and four levels, three above ground and a complete basement. Until he was twelve, he’d lived there virtually alone, although his parents hired new staff every three years, lest he grow closer to the staff than his own family. Nether of his parents were home much, and at twelve he entered the boarding school that he still attended. After that, his trips back home a few times a year had only served to make this place little more than a more luxurious version of his school.

“Welcome home, Mr. Sinclair.” The middle-aged butler said as he opened the door for Worthington. He got a nod for his efforts, and Worthington went immediately up the grand staircase to his suite of rooms on the third floor. In the privacy of those rooms, he took off his suit, carefully hanging it up in the correct closet where it would be taken later for cleaning, and put on a pair of well-pressed khaki trousers with a dark blue polo. Then he went from the bedroom area, with its four-poster oak bed back to the main room of the suite. With a sigh, he clicked on the plasma television hanging on the wall as he sat down on the leather couch.

While the financial reporter talked about the day’s news, he tried to order his thoughts. Truth to tell, he had no problem with his Aunt being a lesbian. Worthington knew he himself preferred having a man, and a man’s equipment in his own bed. When the time came, though, Worthington would marry as was expected, and he would produce an heir, or maybe two. He’d missed having a sibling in this house growing up, and it would be a nice thing for him to do for his child.

Then again, it might be better to just hire a friend. Siblings could cause trouble, as his father’s brother proved. Either way, he would do his duty and present the right image to the world. He wouldn’t stop sleeping with men, but that would remain a quiet part of his life, something not even his wife would be bothered by, ever.

No, his disapproval of his Aunt was not because she slept with another woman. His disapproval of her was because of her openness about that. She did not marry a man, and keep her mistress on the side. That was the way such things were done, but she had spurned tradition, forsaken her duty to family and turned her back on all of them.

There was a price to pay for what she had done of course. Her family, the Bradwells of Georgia had disowned her properly. They were all dead now, along with most of Worthington’s family. Still, she would not receive a penny of their money, not that she really needed it from what he knew. She had put herself through law school and was now a successful attorney out in Arizona. Her partner, he knew, was a professor at some school out there.

Still, her family’s will had included a provision of her biological son, and so he stood to inherit the family’s fortune if he met their conditions. He would have to marry and have a legitimate child by the age of twenty-five. If he did that, he would receive their hundreds of millions in liquid assets as well as property and other holdings. Should he not meet those conditions, their assets would go to Worthington when he married after college.

With a sigh, he got up off the couch and walked out to the balcony that connected to his suite of rooms. It ran the entire side of the building and was all his. Down below, some young men, a few years older than him, were tending to the massive lawn and hedges. The area out back, where the lightning had struck, was still cordoned off, blackened and singed by the fire that had started. That was no reason to let the rest of the estate’s greenery run wild, and the lawn service that maintained the grounds had sent out a crew just as they did several times a week.

He knew they were the largest account this lawn service had, and had never complained about the strict requirements placed on their crews by Worthington’s parents. Their employees came out, performed their duties, and were rotated through regularly, so that none of them were a common sight. As he always did, Worthington stood on his balcony and observed the young men, wearing cargo shorts and white t-shirts as they did their work.

Their easy manner with each other as they talked while taking a break roused old feelings of jealousy in him. They looked so happy as they talked and smiled with each other, and he imagined the two young men as friends, working for the company on their summer holidays from college. He imagined what it would be like to be friends with someone like that, with real feelings instead of the cold calculations he was accustomed to as part of life, and once again he pushed those feelings down and locked them away.

There were things to do instead of standing on his balcony and daydreaming about a life that wasn’t his. The gardeners were always in pairs on the property, a stipulation of his parents, and he knew it was useless to try and get one of them alone for a little fun. He never had a problem when he could get one of them by himself, but that almost never happened. It hadn’t happened in years.

Ever since puberty had taken hold in him, he’d found that he enjoyed those stolen moments of pleasure with any handsome guy he could get alone. When he was with another guy, he could let go, pretend that there was a deeper connection between them. Sometimes he even imagined for a bit what it was like to be that person, to live their life free from the Sinclair duty and obligations.

That was what he’d been doing on his birthday, enjoying the physical feelings of the brown-skinned laborer’s flesh against his, but savoring the imagined life of being that young man, son to immigrants who had snuck across the border for a better life. He’d been the bi-lingual young man, working hard to pay for an education at a community college, with a girlfriend he loved, even though he was enjoying the company of the rich white-boy. Why he’d gone to the white-boy’s room he wasn’t sure, but it felt good and what the girlfriend didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. He was going to ask her to marry him when he got his Associate’s degree. She would be a good mother to their kids.

The knock on his door pulled Worthington out of the reverie of that imagined other life. He always wondered how his imagination came up with so many details of the lives of these other guys, but then he was a Sinclair. Imagination had to be a part of his family or they’d have never done so well at business.

“Come in.” He called out as he composed himself. Not even the household staff entered his rooms without knocking if he was there. It wasn’t one of the maids though who came in his room.

“Hello Worthington.” Elizabeth Ann Bradwell said as she entered the room. Worthington was surprised that she was here already, but hid it well. She was a tall woman, as tall as him, and just as slender. Her long, blond hair was perfectly styled, and her face touched with just the right amount of make-up to accent her beauty. The woman looked every inch of what she had been borne and rejected, most definitely not like he’d expect a lesbian to look. He’d seen her briefly at the funerals, but they had not spoken.

“Hello Aunt.” Worthington said carefully as she examined him from head to toe. When their eyes met, it felt like she was pushing at him, but he just smiled at her with slightly upturned lips, and thought how he was a perfect example of a properly-reared young gentleman.

“A Sinclair to the bone.” She said aloud after a minute had passed. “At least you’re well-trained.”

“I have had none but the best to teach me.” He replied with pride.

“I am sure of that.” She replied with a hint of exasperation. “I will be honest with you, Worthington, and hope you will respond in kind. This situation is not what I would prefer.”

“Then why are you participating?” Worthington asked with genuine curiosity. “You are under no obligation. There is no reason you could not turn your back on me the way you did with your family.”

“Ah, the cutting remark.” She said with a smile. “You should be able to reason out for yourself why I am willing to do this.”

“My uncle.” Worthington stated immediately. Elizabeth nodded.

“The Sinclairs spend millions on politicians every year when it comes to their business interests.” She explained further. “Your uncle would spend millions on social issues. It will be far less trouble for me to keep the money out of his hands than if I let him have all of that, and you.”

“It is always good to understand a person’s motivations for what they are doing.” Worthington quoted one of his oldest lessons.

“Ha!” His Aunt laughed. “That sounds like both your mother and your father rolled into one.”

“It is the first thing they taught me.” Worthington said with the slightest of shrugs.

“I thought we should discuss a few things and get to know each other better before you come with me to Arizona.” She switched topics. “Shall we do this standing up or sitting down?”

“Forgive me for forgetting my manners.” Worthington said politely. “Would you care for something to drink? Please, have a seat.”

“I don’t need a drink.” She said while sitting on the couch. Worthington took a seat on the same couch, albeit an arm’s length away from her. “I may have had my disagreements with my family, including your mother, but I never would have wished what happened on any of them. You have my sympathies.”

“Life ends at some point for all of us.” Worthington shrugged off her platitudes casually. The truth was, he felt only the barest of twinges at the loss. Another lesson they had taught him was that people constantly move in and out of your life, and it was best to never get too attached to any one person. “It is useless to let yourself be overwhelmed by losing someone.”

“That sounds like your father.” She frowned slightly. “Still, I know you probably will not like living with me, but we will try to make it as tolerable as possible. At least you will have your regular school for the next two years.”

“Yes.” Worthington agreed. “If you wish, I can make other arrangements over the holidays to stay elsewhere.”

“That will not be necessary.” She replied. “Such as it is, you have a home with us now, and will always be welcome.”

“Thank you.” Worthington said politely although it was not the answer he wanted to hear. The idea of staying with a schoolmate or two, and enjoying their skin against his over the holidays was appealing.

“I think it wasn’t the answer you wanted to hear.” She said, confirming that she was indeed as observant as he had suspected. Her reputation was that she was a sharp court-room attorney, almost as feared as Randall Smythe. “Nevertheless, it is the answer you will receive. Our home is not quite as grand as this one, but you will have your own room. The boys are preparing it for you right now.”

“The boys?” Worthington asked.

“Our sons, Jameson and Richard.” She replied. “Richard is a year older than you and Jameson. The younger was born two days after you.”

“Oh, yes.” He said a little weakly. He hadn’t known those details.

“As I said, you will have your own room, but it is slightly smaller than this one we’re in here.” She continued. “I understand you have a whole suite here. The staff are being instructed to pack the things that you mark as going to your new home.”

“You said… the boys… are preparing my room?” He asked. “What should I have sent to me there?”

“They are just removing the furniture in the room now, and putting basic things, such as a bed, and a dresser.” She answered. “If what they put in is not to your liking, we’ll change it after you arrive. You might want that television, your computer, clothes, music, and so forth.”

“I am sure whatever they select will suit me.” He said although it wasn’t quite true. Unless it was absolutely atrocious, he’d choose to live with whatever they selected. Still, the television and a few other similar items would be nice to have in his new… home.

“You currently have a monthly allowance of $15,000.” She stated as she moved to the next topic.

“Yes.” He replied and this time he felt a little nervous.

“That is more than either of my boys receive in a year.” Her voice was flat with disapproval.

“I pay all my expenses from that amount.” He informed her rapidly. “Nearly half of it is taken with my tuition expenses. The morning of the… accident, I was driven to the Motor Vehicles for the license test. My parents bought a car for me I have yet to pick up, and there is a motorcycle I ordered but haven’t picked up yet either. Insurance payments for both of those come out of my allowance. Just the same as the expenses for my driver do now. I know the allowance seems like a great deal of money, but I have to use it to pay for everything, including the food I eat here at the house.”

“I didn’t know that.” She admitted.

“It was another lesson in fiscal management.” Worthington informed her. “How else am I to appreciate the cost of services, running a household, or a business unless I am raised understanding revenue and expenditures? My father started me at age 12 with my full allowance and required me to pay for my own expenses, except for the rooms, of course. Everything you see in here that wasn’t a gift on my birthdays or other holidays I paid for. My schooling, I pay for myself out of my allowance.”

“I see.” She said with a slight frown. “Do you put any of this allowance into savings or investments?”

“Naturally.” Worthington stated. “Fifteen percent is invested either in mutual market accounts or in stocks.”

“What is the total of those investments?” She asked him and he considered whether he should answer. Since he was still technically a minor, she would need to sign off on any major changes to the accounts, so she should know.

“Currently my net assets are just over one million, two hundred and eight thousand.” He answered and she raised a single eyebrow.

“Very impressive.” She smiled. “Very well, I will not change those arrangements for the most part. You will pay all your own expenses, not including food or payment for the room we provide. Everything else is your responsibility. One thing, and I am just asking this. Please do not rub your financial resources into the face of our boys. They are not poor by any stretch of the imagination, but they are not as well off as you.”

“I will not.” He promised.

“I will not waste your time with a lengthy list of the rules you will be expected to follow.” She continued after giving him a long look of warning. It was obvious she meant it about snubbing her sons. She seemed a lot more protective of them than his mother had ever been towards him. “I am quite sure my sister and her husband made sure you know not to get drunk in public, take illegal drugs, or any of the other pitfalls for young people.”

“Naturally.” He almost snorted. “The rules of behavior for a Sinclair apply all my life, not just so long as they were alive.”

“Good.” She stated. “Now, some rules I think are necessary after my conversation with Mr. Smythe. Who you sleep with is your business, as long as it is not under my roof, or on my property. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” He replied without showing any chagrin. So that was shared with her? Maybe he should say something more. “No offense intended, but I will get married after college, and have children. You should understand that.”

“What you do with your life in that respect is your business, not mine.” She retorted smoothly without any sign of disrespect. “We all have choices to make in that regard, and I will respect yours, the way I hope you will respect mine.”

“I can accept that.” He told her and was surprised that he actually meant what he said. Her quiet pride in her choice, and willingness to not judge him for choosing differently had touched him in an odd way.

“Good, so long as you understand we do not want a steady stream of… people in and out of your bedroom.” She pushed home her point and he refused to take umbrage at how open her comment was.

“I understand.” He reiterated.

“You are expected home by midnight each night.” She continued. “If you wish to stay over somewhere, you must obtain permission beforehand. Do not expect that you can call ten minutes to midnight and receive permission to stay out overnight.”

“I understand.” He agreed again.

“You will respect instructions from my partner and me.” She added.

“Naturally.” Was his only reply.

“I know the code of ethics you have probably been given will differ from what we believe, and follow.” She continued in a way that made him think he was missing something. “Mr. Smythe said you were not experienced in those areas, but obviously you are. So, I’m just going to say this once. Whatever you have been taught, I expect you to obey certain principles while you are in my care. You will not unduly use your abilities to sway, convince, or compel people into doing things they would not otherwise do. I’m not talking about a street hustler if you lower yourself to one of those, but I think you know darn well what I mean.”

“Yes, Aunt.” He said although he was slightly confused. She had no problem with him buying a hustler, not that he would ever use one from the street, but she did have a problem with tripping some know-nothing laborer into his bed and then paying the man? Oh well.

“I think we’ll manage to get along.” She said with a slight smile. “Wrap up your business here, say goodbye to any friends you have, and I will see you for dinner tonight. Do you have any questions?”

“Not at the moment.” He answered and she nodded again before leaving. With a sigh he got up and started mentally selecting what he would take with him, what would be shipped, and what would stay behind. It was only a few months until school began again.

Then life would get back to normal.

Copyright © 2012 dkstories; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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as said prior excellent sentence structure and wording one is easily able to fall into the story, that in itself is amazing and makes your stories beautiful. But you also have a very vivid imagination and your worlds are enticing.

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What I appreciate most is the overall empathy the reader has with Worthington's confusion because there is obviously so much going on that isn't being said/written and we are all in the same boat. Thanks for the intriguing start.

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The premises for this story are not difficult to accept. the writing as far as I can see is perfect grammatically, I will be following you daily in my reading. A superior start to a different type of tale from the usual "coming out trauma' that is almost standard for GA.

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