Nandita To Nandini
- 4 years ago
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Of Fantasy And Nightmares free porn video
This comes directly from a nightmare of mine. I've suffered
many of these over the years, causing me to get only maybe
four hours of sleep each night at most. This is not a TG
tale, though I suppose it could probably become one upon
awakening. I have very sad and disturbed dreams like this
unfortunately and have been prescribed drugs to counter
these horrible nightmares but nothing seems to help so
far.
I present this to you now, to see what horrible dreams I am
subjected to each day due to my uncontrollable madness that
TG has subjected me with.
Of Fantasy and Nightmares
by Cleo Kraft
I hated Saturdays because those were the days that I had to go with
my whole entire family and sometimes friends down to the old Bigsmire
Mansion Resort Club. Oh, we were not there to ever have fun, though,
like all the wealthy families who went there. Our family was a poor
one, well, lower middle class at best.
We had a house, sure, and dad had a halfway decent job on the weekdays
but on Saturdays he'd round up the whole family and force my six
younger sisters, and two younger brothers and I into cleaning and
scrubbing the floors of Jon Bigsmire's place and tending to all the
yard work.
The worst thing about it was my father was having us all do it for
free just so he could brown nose with his old Navy buddy who'd
struck it rich by winning a substantial lottery fortune.
The reason some times some of my friends tagged along to help on
Saturdays was because that was the only way they could ever visit me
on a Saturday. This is how I've come to know who my true friends
really are. Giving up a whole day off school to hang out with me
and work some sweat out doing rich people's chores.
The Bigsmire Mansion Resort Club was sort of like this place that
was half-and-half a house and half-and-half a private shopping mall
and entertainment club for the rich. As you navigated your way around
there one room kind of blended into another in a large maze of rooms
and wide passage ways twisting and turning and splitting off into
confusing directions at times. Somehow it all looped back in one
great big enormous circle.
Entering the house there were two paths you could take. The left was
always neater and safer but the one straight ahead was the worst of
them all because that's where Jon Bigsmire and his wife Karey let all
their annoying little house dogs roam free. As the Bigsmire's were a
lazy sort they just let their dogs do their business in four or five
of the rooms along the rightmost portion of the house. Therefor every
Saturday it was up to my family and sometimes my friends to clean up
all the little dog piles off the hardwood floor.
I would usually try to make some excuse to just go and do the yard work
instead but it was an especially hot Spring day today and I wanted to
stay indoors in the air conditioning.
Cleaning the entire loop took all day and even if we got done early
my father always insisted that we could not leave until five o'clock.
Today I did not want to work. I was tired of cleaning up five rooms
full of dog shit piles scattered at random on the floor. Most of the
club members stayed away from this side of the house, the more
residential side, and tended to use the game rooms, theaters, gyms and
indoor swimming pools.
The more residential side was where Jon and Karey Bigsmire let the
place go like a pigsty but even a pig would be loathe to live in
these pitiful conditions.
Oh how I hated those tiny dogs of theirs for what they did to those
floors but the dogs couldn't help it if their owners were too lazy to
ever bother walking them. In a mansion this size the dogs could walk
themselves I guess.
There were poodles, Yorkshire terriers, beagles and shi zhus but most
of all there were the chihuahuas. All of them had been trained to
leave tiny little piles in five specific, otherwise unused rooms and
my brothers and sisters and friends and father were made to clean
them.
I figured the health department would shut this place down if Jon
Bigsmire probably hadn't paid them off to keep quiet about it
already.
It was when I came to one of the really nasty rooms that I had to
stop and make a decision. Go back around the other way and face my
father's questions about why I wasn't working or tred onward and
chance getting dog shit all over my shoes. I certainly was in no
mood to clean up this awful mess myself today. I was through with
dealing with dog shit.
I don't know why I did it. I suppose a seventeen year old teenage
boy still has enough of the mind of a child to want to make a game
of things sometimes, so maybe that's why I did it. Though it was
a blisteringly hot day outside I brought my coat and working gloves
with me in case I should slip and fall into the mess, that I would
have some sort of extra layer of protection to keep that stuff off
my skin.
I got on the floor on my hands and feet with belly pointed to the
ceiling and began crab walking to the other side of the room. It
was a foolish thing to try and do, I know, but I felt that if I
could master the challenge I might turn this into some fun and later
dare my friends to do the same.
I made my way in a crazy random pattern off to the left of the open
archway and my left foot accidently landed square on a fresh slippery
pile of dog do. I lost my balance and my upper left portion of my
body slid down into several piles, smearing it all over the side of
my coat and on my face (that was the worst part).
Resigned to giving up my foolish attempt I got up and walked back
to the men's restroom to clean up. Along the way I had to try my best
to hide my embarrassment but even now with dog shit smeared on my
jacket and face I was almost completely ignored by the club members
for they knew me and treated me as only a lowly servant.
I was even less than that though. I was the free help. At least the
servants, what little there were, got paid for doing their work.
There were no servants, though, on the weekends. They at least had
been given the weekends off as rightly my sisters and I should have
had as well but my father, the slave master that he was, would always
ruin half our weekends by bringing us out to this awful place.
I figured it was because he thought that somehow by helping his old
friend he might get in on part of the fortune some day. There could
be no other reason why he was making his sons and daughters work
this hard for free.
Free... well that was a dirty word I guess because we did get our
meager allowance money to purchase candy or fast food once in awhile
but at school we always had to brown bag it for lunch. I seldom used
the school cafeteria because I simply could not afford it on my
allowance. On pizza day I would sometimes make an exception. Pizza
Day Wednesday was what I looked forward to best for then I could have
a greasy square slice of that elephant snot they considered pizza.
At least it was somewhat tasty. At least it was a treat to look
forward to.
I cleaned my face and jacket off with some soapy wet paper towels
but the stains on my jacket wouldn't come off. I took my jacket off
now and carried it with me in embarrassment. I was so burdened by my
mistake that I sometimes joked about it and put myself down before
the guests.
I overheard one guy joke about how he'd have made a fortune if he
hadn't pulled out his investments sooner. I interjected with "well,
at least you didn't get dog shit all over your face and jacket."
His group pointed to me and laughed but not mockingly. It was almost
as if they thought I was pretty cool to say what I said or maybe it
just amused them. I was their little jester, put here for their own
sake to entertain them a little. That a lower class should get shit
all over themselves seemed like nothing so out of the ordinary for
I supposed they had seen those rooms full of dog messes too and could
somehow sympathize with me for what I was made to clean.
"You do good work, Jeff," the fellow said. "Don't let anyone fool ya
there."
I suppose he was right but what I was good at the most was in cutting
the lawns. What was I even doing in here for today? At least outside
I would out of my father's sight and could pause in my work whenever
I wanted.
I strode right past him and my brothers and sisters as they were on
hand and knee scrubbing the white tiled floor of a large dining room
near the front of the house. They'd have a long way to go to get
fully around the circle but finish or not we always stopped working
at five o'clock at night. At least that much I could be thankful
for I guess.
I walked past my father hoping he thought I'd paused in my yard work
to come inside and use the bathroom. He seemed not to notice or care
so I walked past them all, feeling sorry for my siblings and headed
outside into the awful bright sunny day that I wasn't allowed to
enjoy.
My mother sat out in the air conditioned van with the motor running.
She wanted no part in any of this manual labor but came along anyway
being the good wife and mother that she was.
I walked up to her and knocked upon the window. She rolled it down
a little and asked,"What is it now, Jeffery? Has the lawn mower broken
down again?"
"No mom. We need to talk," I said and she invited me to sit in the
passenger seat beside her in the nice air conditioning. "Father's
making us do these chores here for his friend in order to try and
get some money, isn't he?"
She didn't want to have to admit it but it was true. She slowly
nodded yes but remained silent.
I told her what happened to me in the dog do room and told her I was
through with this forced labor and that if father didn't come to his
senses and treat his family right that I was going to run away from
home.
"I'll have a talk with him," she agreed. "I think you're right. You
kids shouldn't be made to work for these awful, filthy people. That's
no place for a child to be. I've tried to convince your father out
of it but you know how stubborn he can be when he's made up his mind
to do things. I'll try and talk with him about it again."
"Now, mother," I pleaded with her. "Please. I had to walk by and see
my brothers and sisters and father scrubbing the floor all for
nothing for those dirty pigs. You can't let this be happening
anymore. Enough's enough already. You should have seen the tears
in my sisters eyes."
I let myself out the passenger door and wandered on over to the
front porch and sat down in protest, determined to stop listening
to my father's commands to keep working today.
I was through.
Eventually my mother got out of the family van and walked past me
with anger streaming from her tear filled eyes. She was going to
confront him. She was going to try and make my father stop what
he was doing and see how he was painfully hurting his children and
himself. There were more things in life than money.
Ten minutes later my brothers and sisters cheerfully ran out of
the house and all piled up in the van. I had made a conquest at
long last and we were all going to go home and be allowed to play
with our friends today.
There was another van out there beside ours. It was a brand new one
belonging to the teenaged sons and daughters of the Bigsmire's.
Learning of the news I saw a few of Jon Bigsmire's sons and daughters
emerge from the house heading now for their own van they were shouting
and waving obscenities at my brothers and sisters now and I hurried
over to see what the fuss was all about.
"What's going on?" I asked.
My littlest sister Mary said,"Mommy's been dared to race them. If we
win we don't have to clean house."
"What if we lose?" I asked.
"Then we have to do it," my fourteen year old little brother replied
grumpily.
Father was nowhere to be found. He would have no part in this
challenge but it seemed he had made a compromise somehow, even if
it weren't really fair.
My mom saw the unfairness in the challenge and made them allow her
to drive their van instead. The Bigsmire kids thought it would be
amusing because they didn't think my mother was any kind of a good
driver, so they agreed to let us switch vans.
I piled up in there with my brothers and sisters and the Bigsmire's
let us even have a head start.
Mom tore down the long driveway in a hurry but the bottom edge
dropped down a steep little hill and she hadn't accounted for this
so in her great speed we went soaring on out there landing
roughly sideways on the other side of the cross street.
The tires skidded as the van slid sideways then rolled leftwards
on its side and went smashing into a parked car, sending it rolling
downhill out of control. The van rolled again and we were somehow
upright again and skidding down a little gravel path beside the
main road.
The little blue car mom hit slammed into an old foreign flatbed
truck and trailer. It must have had only the parking break on and
the crash busted it for now it too went sliding backwards and
across the street, slamming into a whole row of brand new cars
at a car dealership.
My mom saw it too. Our family could never afford to pay for all
the damage done so far.
Down at the bottom of the hill a train was soaring past and I saw
the look in my mother's eyes at what she now thought she had to
do. She'd been suicidal numerous times before but the events that
had transpired today were now too much for her to bear. She'd
damaged the Bigsmire family van and destroyed all those other
vehicles. In her mind there was no way out of this mess save
one.
As she stepped down hard upon the accelerator the last thing I
heard her say to us was "I'm sorry kids..."
When we hit the train the vision before my eyes was an impossible
mixture of pieces of glass and metal being torn to tiny shreds and
flying apart before my eyes. I was beneath the train now somehow
and surrounded by flying debris shooting out in all directions in
a hazy grainy gray blur like being struck with a swirling tornado
out of control and with no place left to go... and then there was
a flash of light and then darkness.
The End
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