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That's That free porn video
From: "Sagista"
That's That
By Sagista
It was supposed to be a simple delivery. What can I say? It was my first day on
the job and I kept getting lost along the delivery route.
I finally made it to the house I was supposed to deliver a package to but it
appeared nobody was home, however when I knocked on the front door it slowly
creeped open as if on its own.
"Hello?" I called out. "Anyone home?"
No answer.
I walked inside and stood there in the entryway and called out again but still
no answer.
I knew I couldn't just leave the package because this one required a signature
and I wasn't about to forge one either, especially not on my first day at work.
I heard a noise coming from downstairs in the basement.
"Hello?" I called out again as I walked to the stairwell and began my descent.
"Anybody home?"
Crash!
I heard glass break upon the floor downstairs, followed by a startled cry from a
little girl.
I walked out into the basement and saw a little redheaded girl of perhaps five
years of age. She stood there with her back to me. She stood there on her
tiptoes and was trying to reach a glass vial up on a wooden workbench. She wore
apparently just an oversized gray sweatshirt that hung on her like an ill
fitting robe that was so long it bunched up a little at her feet.
She turned and saw me and blushed with a guilty look on her face. Sort of the
look a child might make when caught in the act of stealing a cookie from the
cookie jar.
"Hi," she said in a quiet, shy little voice.
"Hello there," I said. "Are your parents home?"
She shook her head "no."
"Babysitter?" I asked.
Again she shook her head "no."
"Well I have a package I'm suppose to deliver here and I need someone to sign
for it," I said. "But I guess I can come back later."
She shrugged and turned around to resume trying to reach a glass vial up on the
countertop.
Seeing how she'd apparently already broken a few beakers by all the bits of
glass and chemicals splattered out over the floor at her feet, and realizing
that if left alone she'd probably only break more beakers, I leaned over her and
pushed all the beakers, vials, and other chemistry related things along the
tabletop until they were up against the wall and now far too impossible for the
little girl to reach.
I looked around the lab to see if there were any stools or chairs the girl might
use to continue her effort but there were none. Just tables and shelves here and
there, no chairs at all.
The girl turned and looked up at me angry at what I'd done.
"Sorry, little girl," I said. "But I'm sure your parents would have done the
same thing, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to be down here in this
basement lab all alone so come on, I'm taking you back upstairs."
Opposed to the idea, she tried to run and hide in the corner but I grabbed her
by the arm and led her upstairs. She squirmed and kicked a bit but it was for
her own good. It wasn't safe for a child to be left alone, especially in a
basement like that with all those chemicals and glass beakers.
We got to the top of the stairs and I saw there was a lock on the doorknob.
"Do your parents have the key?" I asked.
She didn't answer; instead she glowered at me with hate in her eyes.
"Oh well, I'm sure it's safer for me to lock the door than leave it open for you
to go back down there and cause trouble," I said and turned the little lock on
the doorknob and pulled the door shut as I led the girl out of the basement and
into the hallway. "When will your parents be back?"
"Never!" she scowled, stomping a foot. "They don't live here."
"Then who does?" I asked.
"I do," she replied. "I live here. This is my house, and what's the big idea
locking me out of my basement?" She said the words as if she'd been meaning to
say them all along but only now got up the courage to do so.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Mr. Conners," she said blushing a little.
"Huh?"
"I'm not a girl, I'm a man," she said. "I'm Mr. Conners."
"Nonsense. Now tell me your name so I can call your family to come and get you."
"No!"
"Tell me."
"No! I don't have to!"
"Well I can't just leave you here all alone. If you won't cooperate I'm going to
call up social services and someone come here and pick you up. It's not right
for someone to leave a little girl like you all alone like this."
"I said I'm not a girl!" she yelled angrily.
"Look like one to me. If you're not a girl then why do you look like one?"
"I don't have to tell you. It's none of your business." She got a gleam in her
eyes, like she'd gotten an idea or something. "You really want to know how?"
"Sure."
"Open the door and let's go back downstairs," she said. "I'll show you."
"That's not an option," I said. "You're not going to trick me into letting you
back down there. Little girls don't belong in places like that. Now come along.
I've got to make a few phone calls to get someone to come here to look after
you. I'd do it myself but I have other deliveries to make."
She was angry about it but she was in no position to do anything but comply.
The cops came and took her away to the station. They said they'd try and locate
the girl's parents or at the least they'd get her into a foster home until her
parents could be located.
I went on the rest of my delivery route and went home.
Each day I'd go back to the house to try and deliver the package but nobody was
home to sign for it.
A week went by and then finally someone answered the door.
It was a middle-aged man with brown hair that was just starting to go gray. His
eyes were green and reminded a bit of the same sort of eyes the little girl had.
He wore a blue sweater, white shirt underneath, and some brown slacks and black
dress shoes.
He looked at me as if he'd known me but I never met him before in my life.
His expression changed to anger now for some reason. Perhaps I'd come at a bad
time.
"Mr. Conners?" I asked.
"Yeah," he said.
"Package for you. Please sign here."
He grabbed the package from me and signed for it.
His anger subsided and he looked at me deeply in thought for a few long moments
before speaking.
"Why don't you come inside," he offered. "Have a drink and something to snack
on, while I tell you something about that little girl you saw here last week."
"She your daughter?" I asked.
"You might say that," he said setting the package down on a table just inside
the entryway.
"Is she okay then?"
"She's just fine. Now why don't you come inside for a bit, take a break from
your deliveries and come inside for a bit."
"Well, I'd love to but I do have more packages to deliver."
"Come on. Just for a few minutes. It won't take long."
"I don't know..."
"Oh, come on. It'll just be a few minutes."
"Okay, but just for a few minutes then."
"Good. Good. Come on now," he said leading me in the house and closing the front
door behind us.
He led me into the living room.
"Have a seat," he said. "I'll go get something for you to drink. What would you
like? A soda? Milk? Coffee?"
"Soda's fine, thanks."
I sat on the couch.
"Cherry or root beer?"
"Cherry I guess."
He nodded and left the room.
A few minutes later he came back with a tall glass of soda and a plate of
cookies, which he set down on a coffee table before me.
He waited until I took a sip of my soda. It tasted a bit funny. A bit too sweet
perhaps, and not enough carbonization, kind of flat, but still pretty good all
the same, and a cold drink was more than welcome to me on a hot day like today.
"My daughter loves that stuff but I don't touch it much. It'll take the hair
right off your chest. A girl's drink but I'm glad you seem to like it," he said
heading out of the room again. "Forgot one thing. I'll be back though. Go on and
eat up. I'll be right back."
The cookies were pretty good. Chocolate chip. I had three or four and then
finished up my drink by the time Mr. Conners came back.
He sat down on a sofa across from me and laid a familiar little gray sweatshirt
across his lap. He set a little hand mirror on top of that.
He folded his arms and glanced between me and his watch every few moments like
he expected something to happen.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Fine I guess," I said but just then my stomach went all queasy on me like I was
on a roller coaster ride. My feet suddenly withdrew from the floor as if I'd
shrunk up a little, and my clothes started feeling a bit large for me now. "I
feel funny now..."
"That's common. You'll feel A LOT better in a minute. Trust me."
My body shrunk up some more and my shoes slid off my feet and plopped to the
floor. My arms were hidden under my sleeves. I rolled up one sleeve and saw my
hands growing tinier by the moment. Stranger than that, my arms were fairly
hairy before but now there was hardly a trace of hair anywhere now. With my
other hand I felt along my exposed arm... My skin was soft now. It was TOO soft!
"What's happening to me?" I asked in a panic.
He stood up and walked over to me, handing me the little pink hand mirror he
had.
As I kept shrinking and changing all over I looked at my face and saw my eyes go
from brown to green and my hair from brown to red. The more I looked, the more I
realized I was becoming that little girl I'd seen here in this house last week.
The changes stopped finally and Mr. Conners took the mirror away from me and
tossed me the gray sweatshirt.
"Huh?" I said.
"Put it on," he ordered. "Don't just sit there. Get out of those clothes and put
that on."
"But why?"
"Don't argue. You're in no position to argue now. Just do it."
I did as instructed and then stood there in the living room and waited as Mr.
Conners made a phone call.
He hung up the phone and said, "Someone will be right over to pick you up.
That's your foster parents I just called. It seems their little girl ran away
from home but I was lucky enough to find her and set things right."
"Huh? But I don't have any fost-"
"Just shut up, okay?" he interrupted. "You're a girl and that's that. No use
complaining about it. I'm not changing you back. It serves you right. What made
you think you had the right to come in my house last week uninvited, lock me out
of my own basement and then have me taken away? So you didn't believe me when I
told you I was a man, not a little girl, did you? Well now what do you have to
say for yourself now that the shoe is on the other foot? Who's really a man now,
huh?"
And that was that.
There really was no use in arguing, I realized. He wasn't about to change me
back, and nobody else would believe me if I told them what happened to me.
I was a girl now, and that's that.
They came and took me away. They told me my name was Sarah and that I was five
years old.
It was supposed to be a simple delivery. What can I say? I messed up.
Boy did I ever mess up!
...and that's that.
Alma
- 13.09.2020
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