Little Dove free porn video

By Beagle9690
January 2008

We had just returned home from the Gun Smoke after spending a wonderful evening of dining and dancing with our friends Adam and Rose. Laura loves to dance, and although I am a fair dancer as the result of her help, it is my little dove that shines at this endeavor. Laura makes me look better than I actually am. After a night of dancing, Laura is shall we say… stimulated…..no, make that romantically inclined. Our lovemaking is quite special afterward, and we often don’t make it into the house.

I was a little tired that day, having returned from fishing trip with Adam. I was looking forward to some sleep. I had just let Socrates in the back door. When I turned, Laura put her arms around my neck and kissed my mouth. There was no doubt of what she wanted, or that Laura wanted it now. She then got down on her knees and undid my belt and zipper, while pulling my hard cock out to suck on; sleeping could wait.

Laura is always a lady in public, or with my friends, and this is a definite asset in my business dealings. Particularly in formal settings, when I bring her along to mingle with some of the wealthy wives of business clients and/or friends. Maria has taught her well, and more. Not only to survive, but to excel in these situations. My little dove is always gracious and charming. Having her by my side has opened doors that until before remained closed to me.

Laura started licking and sucking while squeezing my ass. She hurriedly pulled down my pants and boxers for me to step out of. I leaned against the back door, removing the hairpins from her bun, letting her long thick ponytail drop down her back to be stroked while she sucked on my rock hard cock.

No woman does it like Laura. I have taught her my preferences. And after, she has mastered her own techniques to drive me wild. Laura will tease the tip and the shaft of my cock with her little tongue, while kissing and licking my balls, followed by licking and sucking simultaneously. She will deep throat me until the first taste of clear cum arrives.

Then she will back off, licking lightly with her teasing little tongue to prolong my erection and pleasure. Laura is not shy on giving directions when I eat her out, and I tweaked my techniques as well. I tease her with my lips and tongue, mostly my tongue, to prolong and enhance her pleasure, followed by her sweet orgasm. A man who is too lazy or unwilling to satisfy his woman is a poor man indeed.

As she continued licking and sucking, Laura’s ponytail didn’t stand a chance. I removed the elastic band letting her hair spill loose and free like a chocolate waterfall. It flowed over her shoulders and back as I watched her hair sway and swoosh from side-to-side as she sucked licked and sucked.

I will take her long hair in my hands, and use it to control the cadence, as I push my cock in and out of her warm welcoming mouth. My hands will be buried in her soft silky hair when my cock explodes like a volcano, shooting my thick rich hot cum into her mouth. Gobs and gobs of hot cum flowed into her mouth, as she swallowed greedily, knowing what would be coming next.

I came grunting and moaning, pulling on her hair as my orgasm washed over me to be consumed by her lips and tongue. Laura will then stand for me to undress her, but tonight will be different… I intend to spice things up a bit. As she stood to be undressed, instead of unbuttoning her blouse, I grabbed the front and pulled hard to rip of the buttons loose.
The initial shocked look on her face made me smile. But then she returned my smile as I removed her blouse, bra and blue jeans. No need to be bothered with shoes, we both took them off in the mud room. As for Laura’s cotton panties….I ripped them down the seams making her smile again as she stood naked and helpless before me.

As I was removing my shirt, I said, “You can go with me quietly or,” I then picked her up and slung her over my right shoulder, enjoying her long hair swaying and swooshing back and forth as it caressed by back and buttocks. I carried her upstairs to our bedroom. Once there, I dropped Laura onto the bed, and then rolled her onto her back. I held her wrists above her head while straddling her with my revitalized cock, now poised to ravish her dripping pussy.

“Are you going to be a good girl and cooperate, my love?” To which my little dove will reply, “Yes Sir”.

Holding onto her wrists, I entered her with my rock hard cock which slid easily into her tight dripping pussy. I leaned forward, seeking her luscious lips. How I enjoy kissing those luscious, and sometimes pouting lips, anytime, or anywhere. Our lips met, and then our tongues, desperately seeking, caressing as they intertwined. I pounded her with my cock bringing her to the brink of orgasm and stopped. Letting go of her wrists, I rolled her over onto her stomach for her to get on her hands and knees. I entered her sweet little pussy from behind, continuing to impale Laura with my shaft.

I was holding back, trying to time my orgasm with hers. I could sense her orgasm starting to crest. I grabbed her hair and pulled it back like a horse’s reins as I rammed her even more violently.

Laura was on her knees, bucking and moaning “fuck me harder…..pull my hair…fuck me harder… pull my hair…pull my hair,” and she was practically screaming as her orgasm washed over her, followed by mine as I pumped my seed into her, leaving me absolutely drained.

I rolled off her onto my back, spent, and Laura then straddled me, holding my wrists above my head with her little hands. My little dove leaned forward and kissed me, her long hair caressing and tickling my neck and face.

She kissed me again and then lightly bit my bottom lip, “You can be such an animal, David, and you need to one more often.”

Laura got up and went into the bathroom while I fixed the bed, whistling for Socrates. He came out of the hallway where he was patiently waiting to take his spot on the Persian rug in front of our floor mirror. He turned in a circle a few times before lying down and closing his eyes, always letting out a big sigh, his nightly ritual.

Laura came out of the bathroom and sat on the bed while I took my turn there. When I returned, my little dove handed me her hairbrush. I brushed her beautiful long hair until it shone…our nightly ritual. Laura then put her hair into a side ponytail, and then loosely braided it. We got into bed together as we do every night to cuddle. We often talk about the events of the day. Tonight we kept our thoughts to ourselves, silently proclaiming our love as we drifted off to sleep.

My dreams were pleasant and vivid. I dreamed of how we met. Scenes of a dream within a dream, drifted through my sleeping unconscious mind. I was a spectator to my past while narrating to myself;

It was a wet evening in the spring. I was driving home after spending a pleasant day in town. I purchased an antique from an estate sale that afternoon, and I was able to secure it for a very modest price. The turn-out for the sale was poor because of a downpour of cold wind driven rain. That evening the wind had let up and the rain had changed to a fine mist with patches of fog.

My purchase was an oval floor mirror, a large heavy piece that weighed in at 225 lbs. or better. The mirror was 8’ high, by 3’ wide, and was ornate with carvings of leaves, birds and flowers. Due to the multiple layers of old paint, varnish and grime, it was difficult to determine the species of bird or habit of plant.

The silver nitrate backing was a spider web of fine cracks distorting the reflective image on the dirty glass. To the untrained eye the glass appeared to be damaged, however the glass was intact, and the silver nitrate will be stripped and reapplied. My best estimate is that the mirror is at least 150 years old. It will take me weeks of careful stripping to expose the original wood.

Many unique treasures, such as this are covered in layers paint; overlooked, abused, improperly cared for... ignored. Antiques have history, secrets to reveal, and I have a passion for restoring as the maker intended.

I run a small business on my estate in one of my barns which was converted to a woodworking shop. Well... not exactly an estate, that being a bit pretentious. I have a large two-story cobblestone farmhouse with a finished attic and finished basement.

My property includes 1400-acres of mostly mature hardwoods. The only way to enter my property is on two private roads that I own and maintain. The roads are gated to prevent trespass, and the county has no jurisdiction or the public any right of access. This is ideal for my purposes, for I can come and go as I please, unnoticed and unseen.

I rebuild, restore, and refinish antique furniture. On occasion, I will custom build furniture, or reproduce pieces as a favor for selected clients. Ninety percent of my business is with very wealthy people. They value privacy and discretion; I provide both.

I do not keep regular hours; business is conducted by appointment only.

My hair started turning gray in my early teens. Now at 35 my hair is silver gray. Fortunately it is thick and full, and I tend to wear it on the long side. Because I live alone in the middle of nowhere, many people think I am some kind of eccentric recluse genius. I do not discourage this misconception, not one little bit; it is very good for business. It is also good for social reasons, and as a result I have many powerful influential friends, currying my favor; they are happy to pay my prices because they can.

The county road that I normally take home was flooded over that evening, forcing me to take to take a detour, on the Ridge Road. I have lived in this county all of my life and the Old Creek Road have never flooded over. To make matters worse, there were no barricades, flares, or detour signs to warn approaching motorists.

I decided to stop off at the convenience store up ahead to top off my gas tank, and get a cup of hot, fresh, coffee. As I pulled up to the self-service gasoline pumps, I noticed a woman standing outside the entrance door holding a push broom and dustpan, smoking cigarettes. In my opinion a woman who smokes is a complete turn-off, and I offer no apologies for that opinion.

This woman, whom I assumed to be an employee, quickly went inside the store as I got out of my cargo van. After I topped off my gas tank, I then walked towards the store to get my coffee, and to pay for my purchases inside with a credit card. I was short of cash having spent all of it on the mirror. I noticed that the woman, whom was standing outside, was watching me through the windows.

As I reached for the door handle, I observed a hand lettered sign on bright pink poster board taped to the entrance door announcing "Under New Management". The lettering on the sign was precise, straight and balanced.

Once I was inside, the smoker walked up to me and introduced herself as the manager. She offered me her hand, and I shook it as good manners dictate. I could smell cigarette smoke on her person, as well as just applied cheap perfume. Her name tag said Candice Fox/Manager.

Candice is a middle-aged woman between 45 or 50; five- three in height and weighing approximately 200 lbs. In perspective, I’m 6’ 3’’ and weigh 175 lbs. She was wearing black polyester slacks that were one size to small. Her blouse was a gaudy polyester print with loud clashing colors. To complete her interesting outfit, I must include her shoes; they were purple pumps with silver tassels. It gets better, or worse, contingent to taste.

Candice’s facial features were charitably average at best. Her eyes were brown, while her lips were thin and stingy. Those stingy lips, no doubt, were hiding yellowed nicotine stained teeth. She was wearing far too much makeup, and her ridiculous, thin arched eyebrows were actually penciled in.

Candice’s hair was a true debacle. It was trashy peroxide blond, which was almost white from over bleaching, and having an unnatural pale yellow tint to it. It was cut in choppy layers that was curly on the crown, and then teased. This hairstyle was quite short on the sides, and cut above her ears. She had long, pointy, mock sideburns and ridiculously short bangs. No doubt the entire bouffant was sprayed into submission with copious amounts of hairspray to hold its unnatural shape.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said, trying to get away from her as quickly and politely as possible, “Would you please point me in the direction of the fresh coffee?” Looking around, I observed that the place was clean and orderly.

Mrs. Fox giggled, continuing to squeeze my hand, “Please...don’t be so formal, all my friends call me Candy. The Gourmet Coffee Emporium is right behind you, and I’ll be glad to take you there.” I was thinking, “Gourmet Coffee Emporium, now that’s pretentious?”
“I’m sure I can find my own way. You can let go of my hand now, Candy.”
Giggles let go, following me to the coffee bar, continuing to make small talk. I just nodded and smiled, hoping she would take the hint and go away. I closed my eyes as I sipped my coffee. I was thinking, “Candy is hard on the ears as well as the eyes; on the other hand this coffee is excellent,” I stopped to listen... blissful silence.... “Good, she’s gone.” Taking another sip of my coffee, I thought, “I wonder if she tastes as bad as she looks?”

I felt a gentle, hesitant touch on my arm. I then heard a mellow feminine voice caress my ears, “Sir, is your coffee alright?” Opening my eyes I looked at her, “Is there something wrong with your coffee, Sir?”

“The coffee is excellent, Laura” I replied, glancing at her name tag, “What makes you think that it is bad?”

“You were making a terrible face while you were drinking it!” She answered, smiling while shyly touching my hand.

Laura was a young woman in her late teens to early twenties. She was dressed exactly the same as Candy right down to the purple pumps with the silly silver tassels. Well, perhaps not exactly the same, Laura’s matching clothing was the correct size, while Candy’s was a bit tight.

Instead of long silky hair, as is proper for a beautiful young woman, Laura’s was cut and colored almost exactly the same as Candy's, minus the heavy hairspray. The similarities ended there. Laura was about five- nine, and approximately 180 lbs. Admittedly overweight to be sure... possibly by as much as 40 lbs., but not obese by any means.

No heavy makeup marred her fair peaches and cream complexion. Laura’s eyes were like a sea of green, with sunlight sparkling on the water, deep and mysterious eyes, with secrets to be delved. Those were my thoughts the moment I looked into them. Her natural, untouched eyebrows floated above her green eyes like the graceful wings of doves. Laura’s nose was small and refined.... but cute... definitely cute, and her teeth were sparking white and perfect.

She smelled like ivory soap and peppermint. As for her lips, her lips were beyond belief. Generous lips…. sensuous lips... lips just begging to be kissed. Standing next to her, I realized that Laura was the ideal height for me. The top of her head was just level with my eyes.

I would just have to lean forward slightly to taste those luscious...........

"I'm sorry I had leave, Dave. I had to go outside to unlock the ice cooler; a customer wanted block ice," Giggles droned, interrupting my erotic, interactive daydream by speaking, and then touching my arm, “You don't mind if I call you Dave, do you Mr. Ares? Or do you prefer David? I know all about your business, you sell antiques” Candy's discordant nasal drone continued to assault my ears, "I see you've met my baby. Isn't she pretty? People mistake us for sisters all the time! "I..........."
Interrupting Candy, I took both of Laura’s hands in mine and said, “Eyes of green, as deep as the sea; Aphrodite daughter of the foam….wilt thou favor me with your handmaiden Laura, who is standing before me." I had no idea where those words came from, they were just there. I continued ignoring Candy, annoyed by her presence. I was entranced with Laura, looking into her fascinating green eyes, enjoying her blushing cheeks and shy smile.

"Laura, will you please cash me out?" I asked letting go of her hands, and then handing her my credit card.

Laura looked at her mother for permission, receiving a mean look in its place. This mean look instantly turned into a disingenuous smile.

"I'm sorry, but I haven't learned how to operate the credit card modem yet. Mother always takes care of that.” Laura answered, handing my card to her mother.

"It's all right honey,” Laura’s mother said, attempting to smile sweetly through her jealous anger, ““Why don’t you take a break. Mother will join you shortly."

Laura left and Candy remained with the same disingenuous sweet smile creasing her face. On the bright side, it was a pleasure to watch Laura walk away. Her movements were fluid and graceful despite the extra pounds. I resigned myself that giggles would continue to flirt and check me out; such is the way with men and women. Candy didn’t have a snowballs chance in Hades.

Just before I left the store, Candy pressed her hot pink business card into my hand, "David, I have an extensive collection of Depression Glass that my grandmother left me. Perhaps you can look at it sometime?"
"I'm sorry but Depression glass is not my area of expertise.” I advised her, politely, “However, I can highly recommend John Corning, of Precious Treasures, on the corner of Best Street and Main. Feel free to mention my name, and I am certain that he will take care of you. Good night, Candy.”

When I got into my van, I turned her pink card over. Candy's cell phone number was hand written on the back as was her home telephone number and street address. I had to admit the woman had beautiful hand writing, and it must have been she who lettered the sign at the entrance. The coffee was excellent, store was clean, no it was spotless, and I had to give her that as well; Candy was a most competent owner/manager.

As I was pulling away from the pumps, noticing not even a candy wrapper littering the parking lot, I heard Candy screaming like a mad woman at Laura. I drove to the side of the building out of sight and listened, thinking, “Wow, what a temper, and a dirty mouth to boot. I would never put up with that.”

"You___ spoiled everything! You always___ spoil everything! No wonder your___ father left; because of you! I was making progress with him. I've sacrificed everything for you. I buy you nice clothing. You get to go to my personal stylist to get your____ hair done every month.

Do you think ___money grows on trees? You will never amount to anything! You are stupid and useless!" This is a sample of her abusive tantrum. I did not quote her verbatim. I omitted the vulgarity and/or profanity. On second thought, make that crude and trashy, malodorous, flirtatious mother.


When I got home, Socrates met me at the door, and I let my friend out to do his business. Socrates is a huge and dignified Bull Mastiff. He is light fawn in color with four white feet. He is smart, loyal and obedient. Socrates is very affectionate with me, and very well educated. We have a connection, him and me; we are both attuned to each other’s moods and/or thoughts.

When I first brought him home, he was on the rope that he was tied up on, and refused to enter the house. I tried coaxing him for a good hour. I tried everything, food, you name it, and he wouldn’t budge, he just sat there looking at me. I closed my eyes; it was a shot in the dark, but what the heck.

I dropped the rope and stepped on it: then I sent my thoughts out to him, “Alright, friend, this is not working; what’s wrong?” I opened them, and he was standing. I stepped off the rope, opened the outside door, and he walked into the mud room and sat down, again refusing to move. “Is it the rope,” “You don’t like ropes do you? Well I can’t blame you there.” I untied the rope from his collar and threw it outside, closing the outside door and opening the door to the kitchen.

Socrates stood up, and walked into the kitchen. “Fine, no more ropes, my friend,” I thought and said. He then walked back to the outside door and barked. I opened it and he went outside. He did his business, and returned, wagging his tail, pushing up against me with his big head to be petted…amazing.

I petted his head, talking to him, “Apparently you are your own dog, my friend, and Socks is a silly name for a dignified fellow like you. Your ancestors traveled from Persia with Xerxes into Greece, and later stood alongside the Romans Legionaries as guard dogs, or war dogs…how does Socrates sound to you for your new name?”

For the most part, Socrates is a one-man dog. He is on good terms with the FedEx and U.P.S. drivers whom are the only people that he sees on a regular basis; he simply ignores them. I have taught Socrates to attack on command, and he can easily chase down and knock a person to the ground. He will then pin them in place, all the while snarling and growling, menacingly. Follow-up commands will escalate the level of force.

I acquired him from a client, when he was approximately two years old. To protect this mentioned client’s privacy, I will refer to him or her as, X. When I first saw Socrates, then called Socks, he was tied up outside to a tree. It was cold outside and the water in his bowl frozen. He looked under fed. During the course of our business transaction, I casually mentioned him to X.

I was told that Socks was stupid and useless.

I made X a proposition, “If you will loan me Socks for a year, I will make you a duplicate of your secretary desk but with a caveat. He will be my project, and if I can't train him the desk is free. However if I do train him, you agree to pay double." Satisfied with our arrangement we shook hands.

At the year’s end X lost our gentleman's, or if you wish, gentleperson’s bet. I offered to take Socrates instead of the money. We parted on good terms. I made two lifelong friends that day.

After our walk, I made two ham & cheese omelets on whole wheat toast with sliced tomatoes. Socrates got his omelet on top of his dried dog food. Then I sat at the kitchen table, and we ate our supper together as we generally do, every night. I talked to him as I generally do, especially when I am upset or angry.

"I know you must think I'm insane, but I can't get her out of my mind. What a project Laura could be, much like Pygmalion was to Galatea. Laura could lose weight with exercise and diet. Under my direction and care, Laura would grow out her hair. I hope it is brown…. a rich dark brown that would set off her beautiful green eyes. Do you think Laura would consent to grow her hair long for me? I would love to see it waist length.

Don't look at me like that, Socrates. I know what you are thinking…. all right I admit it. I want to get into her pants. But I can offer her things her mother can't. The chance to travel for example….Do you believes in love at first sight… how about epiphanies?

If I forced Laura away from her mother, would she stay with me? In ancient times men simply took women by force. They often made them their slaves. Of course I’m not interested in Laura being a slave, how can you think that? Nevertheless, in many cases they fell in love with them, and then married them. If I could just get her away from her mother's abusive influence, it would change her life for the better.

I would love to have one year with her….just one year. Do you think that is enough time? If nothing else Laura would learn to be independent of her mother. If things didn't work out I would allow her to leave with money to start a new life. One hundred thousand should be enough, don't you think?

Yes, I know I’m taking one hell of a chance. I may have to leave the country to escape prosecution, but in the end, money wise, I will be fine. It’s just that Laura just feels so right for me.”


I tried to read myself to sleep, but I could not get Laura out of my mind, tossing and turning until I finally dropped off. Socrates woke me up in the middle of the night. He was standing next to the mirror, barking. I got out of bed and stood next to him, and that seemed to calm him. The glass was forming into a glowing pearly white fog. Tendrils of the fog were escaping and swirling around the oval of the frame and then the stand. Fascinated, I stood watching. I was unable to tear my eyes away.

After a time, the glowing tendrils slowly retreated back into the glass of the mirror, as the fog was staring to dissipate. The frame and stand were now free of old paint and varnish. The wood was a rich dark black walnut. I recognized the leaves and flowering blossoms to be from the apple tree. Without the layers old paint and varnish covering them, the birds were recognizable as doves. Socrates was lying down now and wagging his tail.... waiting.

Then the fog in the mirror was completely gone. I could see the outline of a woman in the glass, facing away from me. It was if I was looking into another world, another dimension, or alternate Universe, and the mirror was a gate. The woman was breathtakingly beautiful. She was wearing a white chiton over her trim graceful figure. Her dark brown hair twisted into a simple chignon at the back of her neck.

This lovely creature was standing on a virgin beach of pure white sand. The pristine sand was sprinkled with various seashells. The magnificent vibrant colors of the seashells were just too beautiful to describe except to say, gems from the deep. Waves were lapping at the beautiful woman's feet. The warm, primal Aegean Sea sparkled with the sunlight on the water, gracing this beautiful nymph within the mirror.

She knew that I was watching her. I don't know how, I just did. Just as I knew that her eyes were green without actually seeing them. Aphrodite’s handmaiden reached up, removing the bronze broach that held the garment in place. This allowed her simple, but elegant covering to drop to the wet sand. Caressed by the waves it dissolved into the foam from whence this beautiful nymph came.

The woman's naked form was a delight to my eyes, as I focused on her. The once breathtaking scenery was now banal in comparison to this beautiful creature. She reached up and removed the hairpins from her chignon. The beautiful nymph shook her head, letting her brown hair spill down her shoulders and back in brown waves to her slim waist. She turned to face me. My Laura was smiling as her arms reached out to me through the mirror into my bedroom. There were two white doves were her cupped in her hands, and then.


I sat up bed, Laura’s transformation now indelibly engraved in my conscious mind. It was early morning. The new sun was peeking through the tree line. Socrates was sitting at the window looking out. His wagging tail was thumping on the wood floor. I looked around the room for Laura? It was just a dream. The mirror was still in the cargo van.

I got out of bed, walking to the window, "What are you looking at Socrates?" I asked, and then I saw. There was a mating pair of mourning doves on the windowsill looking at us through the glass.

Hurrying to the telephoned, I called the Sheriff Department and spoke with the day dispatcher, "Good morning, this is David Ares; perhaps you can help me Sir?" I asked, politely.

"Certainly Mr. Ares, how may I be of service?"

"Has the Old Creek Road opened for traffic yet? I was driving home last night, and it was flooded over the banks at the four corners. I had to take a roundabout way home on the Ridge Road.”
"Mr. Ares, you must be mistaken,” The dispatcher explained patiently, “I live on the Old Creek Road, just before the Four Corners. I can assure you that it did not flood. Will there be anything else, Sir?"

"No, I have to go," I replied abruptly, hanging up the telephone as the implications were finally sinking in.

I hurriedly dressed, and then Socrates and I drove out to the Four Corners. We both got out of the truck to look around. As always he found something interesting to smell, and then rolled in it. Other than the ground being wet from Friday’s rain, there was no evidence of the road, or surrounding fields having flooded.

Damn it, I did not imagine it! I did not dream that the road was flooded, and I am not dreaming now. But I have to believe my own eyes…. my own senses. I have always been a logical man.... but an epiphany? Yet in my heart of hearts, I knew that Laura and I were destined for each other. An epiphany is the only logical explanation. I would follow my heart and take help where I find it.

It took me 3 weeks to remove all of the old layers of paint, varnish and grime. I personally transported the glass to be stripped, polished, and to have a new silver nitrate backing applied while I waited. I then brought the mirror glass back to my workshop to carefully fit it in the restored frame.

I replaced the original damaged mirror back with light colored apple wood. I carved a wreath of myrtle around the circumference of the oval of the new back. I also carved two hares in the center, placing the hares into a bed narcissus that I also carved.

The hares (rabbits) and narcissus (daffodils), as well as the myrtle, were attributed to hold a special meaning to Aphrodite the Goddess of Love and Beauty in the mythology/religion of the ancient Greeks. They were also in character with the theme of the mirror.

If I could accept an epiphany, why take chances, it couldn’t hurt to make points.

The light colored apple wood was a pleasing contrast to the rich dark black walnut of the front, with its carvings of doves, leaves and apple tree blossoms. I placed my restored mirror in my bedroom, exactly where I saw it in my dream. Then I stood back to admire the mirror... something was missing.

I went down to my basement, and opened my floor safe. I then removed a red large silk pouch, folded in three, and brought it upstairs. I unfolded the pouch, removing the rope contained within. I then hung it on the left spindle of the mirrors stand. Satisfied, I lay down on the bed to admire the mirror and Socrates joined me.


I fondly recalled how I had acquired that precious rope. Shortly after purchasing my home, I discovered an object, wrapped in canvas hidden in one of the attic rafters. It was the intact blade of a Japanese sword, possibly a World War II trophy, which was brought to the States by the previous owner. It was in outstanding condition.

The previous owner was mature enough not to go about chopping inappropriate objects with it. He also had the foresight to heavily coat the blade with bearing grease. The handle (Tsuka), blade collar (Habaki), guard (Tsuba) and pommel (Kashira) were missing, and to properly restore this treasure would require the hands of a Master.
Later that day, I was driving home from town returning with my groceries. I passed a car that was broken down with steam coming out from under the hood. The stranded occupants were an older Japanese gentlemen and his daughter.

I stopped to help them. Their rental car's serpentine belt was broken causing it to overheat. I offered them a ride into the town to arrange for another rental car. Apparently for some unexplained reason there was no cell phone reception.

According to Mr. Saito's daughter, they were visiting her aunt, his older sister, who was living in the area. Before they broke down they were driving to New York City to catch a plane back home. I assumed that Mr. Saito did not speak or understand English; his daughter did all the talking. I casually mentioned the sword blade that I had found earlier.

When his daughter translated my discovery about the sword, Mr. Saito lost his quiet reserve, and became quite excited. I turned my truck around and took them home, bringing the sword blade out to show him. He examined it while his daughter explained to me how important these taken war trophies were to the Japanese people, as they were considered national treasures. They then spoke back-and-forth in Japanese.

Turning to me she said, “My father says the sword blade is very old. It is obvious to him you respect honor and tradition; you have shown us great kindness and hospitality. The antique furniture that graces your home is a testament to your character.

But my father asks a favor. He would like to purchase your blade and then return it to Japan. A Master Sword Smith will restore this treasure. It will then be donated to the Tokyo National Museum, too be put on display for all to enjoy.”
"You and your father are a guest in my house, Miss Saito. Please tell your father that I would be honored if he would accept the sword as a gift."

I walked over to her father as he stood to meet me, and then we both bowed in the Eastern fashion. Presenting it to him in with both hands, I handed the sword blade to Mr. Saito. Smiling, he accepted my gift and then thanked me in impeccable English. Excited with the sword, the old rascal admitted to taking advantage of my wrong assumption. He then shook my hand vigorously in the Western fashion, and was grinning from ear to ear…………

Approximately one month later I received a telephone call from an armored car service. In my business this is not at all unusual because of the value of antiques that I restore. I made an appointment for them to deliver a package originating from Japan.

On the appointed hour, an armored car pulled into my driveway. Two armed guards exited, one of them carrying a small bamboo box. Socrates came out to greet them wagging his tail, something most out of character for him. I signed for it and carried into the house with Socrates at my heels, as I locked the door behind me.

Inside the box was a red silk pouch folded in three. Inside the red pouch was my precious rope. It was 42 inches in length and consisted of 10 mm (3/8") hand-selected white South Sea pearls. Enclosed was a note from Mr. Saito inviting me to visit them at their home? The note, well actually, it was a very nice letter, explained that Mr. Saito was a pearl merchant. The pearls were a gift to my future wife…..

While I was working on the mirror, I was planning Laura's abduction. As soon as my bathroom project was complete, I would make my move. In the mean time, someone who is very good at finding out information owed me a favor. I had her quietly and discretely gather information on Laura and her mother. The investigator’s written report was very thorough, and the copies of the provided documentation were all inclusive.

Because of this, I decided that the direct approach would be best. I would use bad weather and darkness to my advantage. Laura and her mother lived in a small two-bedroom ranch two miles from the convenience store on the Rose Rd.

It was close enough for Laura to walk to work since Laura didn't have a driver's license. Her mother Candice drove a late model pink Cadillac with vanity plates spelling out her name, “Candy”, and like their home and store, the Caddy was in immaculate condition.

The only days that Laura was alone at home were on Wednesday and Sunday evenings. I made some assumptions about Candy that were not fair, assumptions that the Investigator noted in her report; Candy spent long hours at that store, getting her hands dirty, cleaning, and I assumed wrongly that Laura did the Cinderella share of the work.

I chose a cold and blustery in February, when her mother was working at the store. I attached two bogus magnetic signs on to my Jeep four-by-four that advertised for a local pizzeria where they frequently ordered. It was snowing hard when I pulled into the driveway.

Although the driveway was recently shoveled, it was quickly filling with blowing and drifting snow. The weather report called for 10 to 16 inches of snow by morning. The Sheriff Department had issued a road advisory for no unnecessary travel.
I walked up to the front porch, noticing that the porch light was on. The light fixture granted easy access to the light bulb, making it unnecessary to remove the globe. I simply turned the bulb until the light went out, and then rang the doorbell.

I was wearing a Navy Pea Coat with the collar up. I had a black watch cap on my head, with two black wool scarf wrapped around my face allowing only my eyes were showing. My blue jeans were tucked into my green insulated rubber boots. When Laura answered the door I was holding four empty pizza boxes.

"You must be freezing, please come in,” Laura offered. I scraped my feet on the outside doormat to rid them of the snow, and stepped in closing the door behind me.

Laura was wearing an ankle length cornflower blue fleece robe over cream flannel pajamas with red wool cork-sole clogs on her feet.

"I'm sorry you had to drive all the way out here in this weather. But there must be a mix-up. I didn't order four pizzas! Are you sure you have the right address?"

Dropping the empty boxes, I took her arm and made her sit on the couch, never expecting things to be so easy. Standing behind her, I then took off the second scarf that I was wearing, and wrapped it twice around her eyes and tied it behind her head.

Laura became very still and quiet. I sat down next to her and stroked her poor abused hair. She smelled like vanilla shampoo, ivory soap, and peppermint toothpaste.

At first, I said nothing, while wondering why she was so calm and quiet. Much like the store, the house was neat and spotless, the faint smell of cigarette smoke near the front door being the only detraction. There were four lighted China cabinets along the walls, displaying the extensive collection of carnival glass that Candy mentioned.

I put my hand between her shoulders and spoke very quietly to her, “You know who I am little dove.... you have been waiting for me for a very long time. I may be your only chance to be free of your mother's yoke. Can you cast it off alone? Do you still wish to remain here, Laura?

Will you remain your mother's imperfect clone, in appearance only? And when your mother passes, will you remain her lonely barren prodigy! Our fates are intertwined if only a short time. Look into your heart Laura... you know what I say is true.

I will not allow your mother to trample on your soul from this moment forward. One way or another, you will be leaving with me, and how you leave is entirely up to you. You can walk out on your own volition, or be trussed and carried out."

I was rather proud of my little speech, having memorized it, and then, practicing in front of the mirror.

My little dove was still surprisingly calm. Laura shifted to get comfortable, not moving away from my hand.

She then sighed, “If I agree to go, will you promise never to hit me, or belittle me, David Ares?"
At first I was taken aback, how did she know it was I? I was sure my disguise was more than adequate. What Laura saw of my face, my eyes, she only saw briefly.

"I promise never to strike you in anger, Laura. I promise never to use profanity in your presence, or verbally abuse you. I give you my word on this, little dove."

"Then I will give you my word as well. I will go willingly, David. If I am to trust you, you must to trust me. I trust you David. I know you are a man of your word, although I don't know how I know... I just do. However, you are a man, and men have needs. I don't know if I am ready for you, but I will try. If you are patient, and will give me a chance, I will try to be a pleasant companion."

Flabbergasted, I was wondering if I was dreaming. I removed the blindfold, as there was no longer any point in it. I might have just as well shown up with flowers and said, “Please pack your bags, and let’s get going,” thinking, “Did she memorize her speech as well.”

My identity was known and I came here accepting the risks and consequences, while prepared for the worse, determined to follow my heart, and now she was going willingly?

Laura got up and went immediately to her tiny bedroom. She removed a partially packed green knapsack from her bedroom closet, placing it on her bed. She took off her fleece robe and carefully folded it before putting it into the knapsack, along with her clogs.

She put on a frayed and faded brown sweatshirt with a yellow lab embroidered on it over her pajama top. Then she put on blue jeans over her pajama bottoms. She put on wool socks, new white sneakers, followed by still in the box, new black rubber stretch boots over the sneakers. Laura added new under garments in a smaller size still in the packages and new hiking socks to the knapsack. Next, a pair of smaller size blue jeans and then finally, a new pair of hiking boots. Laura packed no other clothing, but placed her wallet in the zippered side pocket.

The last item that Laura took was a silver locket on a chain. It was hidden under a loose floor board in her closet that she lifted up with the Swiss Army Knife in the pocket of her blue jeans.

For the brief moment that I saw it, the locket was in the shape of a scallop shell. It appeared to be quite old, very detailed, and finely crafted. Laura fastened the chain with the locket around her neck, and put it under her pajama top and sweatshirt.

Laura dressed and packed quickly and efficiently. There were no wasted motions or hesitation. It was if Laura knew that I would be arriving, and had planned ahead of time. Picking up her knapsack, Laura turned to face me. The serious look that she gave me, told me everything I needed to know. Laura was ready to leave...now.

"Where is your winter coat, Laura?"

"It's in my mother's car. There is nothing more I want out of this house or from her." She announced defiantly.

"I understand completely. However you will put this on and you will not argue with me.”

I took off my coat and helped her into it. I took the knapsack and carried it out to the bogus pizza delivery vehicle, helping her in.

The weather had turned from bad to worse. The roads were officially closed now, with a full travel ban in place. It took us an extra half hour to get home. During the drive we did not speak, but kept to our thoughts. I kept wondering how she knew it was I.

When we got to the north road, we switched vehicles, getting into the dump truck with a snow plow that I left there in anticipation of the deep snow. We literally ploughed our way to my house, and once there, I got out first and helped her out.

Laura stood there looking at me, "I know what you are thinking,” Laura said this with a very solemn look on her face, “Eyes of green, deep as the sea; Aphrodite Daughter of the foam, wilt thou favor me with your handmaiden Laura standing before me. That is what you said to me. I couldn’t get those words or you out of my mind, or you… and well…I have my secrets.”

I brought Laura into the house through the front door, and told her to wait in the foyer. I went back outside and entered the house through the back door, my normal entry point. Socrates was waiting for his nightly routine. I let him out to do his business and then I brought Laura into the kitchen and helped her off with my pea coat.

"Please sit down I’m going to make us a pot of green tea. I have Fig Newton Bars and baked shortbread cookies to go with the tea. Then we are going to talk.” I didn’t know about her, but I was physically and mentally drained.

Originally, I fixed up a place for Laura to stay in the basement just in case she didn’t come willingly. This was more for my convenience then for hers. Now it was no longer necessary; she would have a comfortably furnished bedroom, decorated for a woman’s taste by Maria.

My little dove had a submissive side that her mother used to control every aspect of her life. That submissive aspect of her personality will never completely go away. But it could certainly be redirected for her benefit. If I couldn't have her as a lover, I would always have her as my friend.

Socrates walked right up to Laura and smelled her. All the while he was wagging his tail vigorously. He allowed Laura to pet him, and to rub his ears. He even let Laura kiss and hug him. It was if he had known her all of his life. Somehow I was not the least bit surprised.

During our talk, I told Laura how I rescued Socrates, but in much greater detail. Then I told her some very unpleasant and disturbing things about her mother. Things that I was sure that Laura did not know about.

"What do you know about your inheritance from your grandfather, Laura? Do you know any of the details?"

"Only what mother told me. She has Power Of Attorney, and I can't touch my $5000.00 until I turn 25 years old."

"Why didn't you go to college, Laura? Your high school records indicated an almost perfect grade average."

"Because I had to drop out of high school when I was sixteen and go to work; we needed the money. Why are you asking me all of these questions, David? What do they possibly have to do with us?” When she said us, my heart skipped a beat; another epiphany and Laura continued, “I have put that part of my life behind me, and I am never going back…never. It is only five thousand dollars, let her keep it.”

"It has nothing to do with us, but everything to do with you. Did you know your inheritance is held in a trust? The trust is with the law firm Kennedy & Murphy of Wall Street in New York City?"

"Mother never mentioned them. She is very secretive about our finances. I don't need that money!"

“There is more. Your mother's name appears nowhere in your inheritance documents filed with the courts. Your mother was deliberately left out, and for good reason, Laura.

That money was to be used as your college fund if you chose to attend. Otherwise you couldn't touch it until you turned twenty five. Eighteen months from now you will be entitled to all of your $400,000.00."

"I...I don't know what to say, I never knew it was that much money," Laura stammered.

"Your mother has Power of Attorney because you mistakenly signed it over to her when you turned twenty one. Fortunately, that Power of Attorney can be easily revoked, just give me the word. On the plus side, the business and the house are in both your names. I have to give her that. If something happens to her, you are covered by insurance, which is more than enough to pay off the house and the store. You are the sole beneficiary of your mother’s will. Everything will be paid off, free and clear. Because of your joint effort and hard work, the store is turning a nice profit, and I have to give her that as well.

Your mother used your money as collateral, when she could have just taken it outright in time…again I give her that, wrong though it is. If the balloon payment is not met your mother could lose everything because of the land contract.

Candy needs your money until the first balloon payment is due two years from now. Here are documents confirming everything. I placed a thick manila folder on the table for her to review.

"Don't ask me how I procured them, I also have secrets, and need to protect my sources. There are some things that I can never tell you.

I originally fixed living quarters for you in the basement to lock you in. I had no idea that you would come willingly…or perhaps I did, or hoped you would. Just in case I have furnished a bedroom for a woman’s tastes. You can thank Maria for that, and it will be yours while you are here.”

"I thought you wanted me, David…. then I won’t be sleeping with you?”

"Do not tempt me; of course I want you, Laura. I've wanted you from the second I first met you. Are you a virgin, little dove? That was a rhetorical question, and you need not answer. Your precious.... priceless virginity, should be saved, and given to the man you truly love.

It should be received as a gift, with love in return. Not for an obligation, or romantic ideal, or a hoped for fairy tale ending. You gave me your word, little dove. Now I require your obedience, and then we shall see. For now, let me show you to your room..................”

The next morning over breakfast I laid down the conditions. “The next six weeks are going to be very hard for you. Think of it as boot camp. If you have not already looked there is exercise clothing in descending sizes in your dressers.”

“I looked; thank you, David.”

“Make a list, and I will get anything else you need, little dove.”

“Why do you call me that?” She asked, smiling.

“You will have your answer in six weeks, any other questions?”

“Yes, does boot camp mean a haircut?” Laura asked, and again, she kept me wondering about her secrets.

How in the world did you know that?” I asked and Laura just smiled.


I spread some newspapers on the kitchen floor, and then placed a straight back chair on the papers and she sat on it. “Do you trust me?” I asked, and Laura just nodded.

I made several passes with the electric clippers until the last visible preferences of her mother's influence remained no more. The brown hair that remained was no more than 1/8 of inch/3 millimeters long. When I finished I helped Laura to her feet and she ran her hands over the short, soft, dark brown bristles on her head.

“It’s going to take time to get used to,” She said, standing, and wiping a tear from her eye, smiling.

I then sat in the same chair and handed Laura the clippers. “Will you do the honors, little dove? We are in this together, and I will not ask you to do anything I would not do myself.”

“Are you sure that you want me to do this?” She asked, running her fingers through my thick hair, sighing.

“I’m sure; it will be cooler for our workouts together.”

In no time, my hair was added to hers on the newspapers on the floor. Laura ran her hands over the short bristles on my head and her own, comparing the difference, and it felt so nice being touched by her. I stood up and gently took her face in my hands and kissed her mouth

“You are right; it will take some getting used to” I agreed, while caressing her head.
“With or without hair, you are a beautiful woman. I suggest that you change into your sweats. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”

I had Laura and me on a strict, and an intense exercise program that included a wide range of exercises. They were mostly aerobic and isometric exercises to start. I am sure that the first two weeks were hell on earth for her. I was merely in purgatory and I pushed myself long after she was tired. I restricted our sugar, salt and fat intakes; we were on the same diet.

Laura never complained. I gradually upped the ante, which included light weights for her, and heavy ones for me.

At the end of the eight weeks she was down to 130 lbs. It was the ideal weight for her five-foot nine-inches. I was very proud of her, although, not as proud as she was with herself; during the last two weeks, she didn’t quit until I did.

I pretty much weighed the same as when I started, but the exercise had hardened and flattened my stomach muscles considerably. It also increased my endurance and stamina.

Laura's hair was now over 1" long. It was a rich, dark brown with red highlights. It was growing faster than the average, which surprised us both. We continued to exercise together but now only to maintain. We took many long walks on the property, and of course Socrates was always delighted to come along us.

I made sure that Laura was in the house and out of sight when anyone came around. I didn’t want her mother to know where she was, not yet anyway. Laura was with me for 16 months when her mother found out and tried to force a confrontation.

By then Laura’s beautiful hair had grown to just touch her shoulders. We noticed lately that it was not growing as fast as it had been and was now averaging 1/2" per month. I had kept trimmed for her using a scissors and comb only and became very good at it, and she was trimming mine as well. Laura’s was blunt cut all one length and was very thick and shiny. Laura wanted to grow it waist length for me. She vowed never to have short hair again.
Laura was now an accomplished woods woman. She had learned to move quietly in the woods and stalk game. I bought her a camera in place of a firearm for this pursuit.

Laura studied all of my Peterson Field Guides, learning to identify all of the flora and fauna on my property. She could start a fire without matches 3 different ways, and live off the land now knowing all the edible plants, or acquiring meat, by setting simple snares.

Laura also became proficient in the use of firearms. She learned to shoot, disassemble/reassemble and clean my Bushmaster AR-15 .223/5.56 Rifle, my Remington 1100-12 Gauge Shotgun and my Smith & Wesson Model 58 .41 Magnum Revolver.

I always carry my handgun when walking my land, for it is potent medicine for anything on two or four legs. I also taught her to shoot a long bow, making Laura a smaller one of a lesser draw weight, to fit her stature, and we practiced together, I shooting mine; I take two deer every year for the meat.

Laura was a natural with her long bow. She was soon matching me shot for shot. It was just a matter of time before she would far out pass me in this endeavor; she was that good.

Laura loved camping and we spent many nights together under the stars. Although I received many hugs and kisses from her, thus far we had not made love. Above all, Laura was my sweet, gentle lady and I loved her with a passion that few men experience.

We were out hiking one Saturday morning and then returning home with two pack-baskets full of edible mushrooms. We were about 100 yards from the house and hidden from view in the trees. Socrates started growling deep in his throat. This could only mean that someone was trespassing and had probably cut the lock on one of the gates.

Laura, Socrates and I quietly walked the edge of the tree line until we had a good view of the driveway and the front of the house. There was a black luxury sedan parked 50 yards from the house. A very big man in a dark suit was standing by our front door with his back to us.

Looking through the telescopic lens of Laura’s camera it appeared he was trying to pick the lock. I told Laura to wait in the trees with Socrates and watch me. When I whistled let Socrates go and when I whistled a second time it was safe for her to come down. I quietly circled from around the back of our house and surprised him in the front.

He was a huge man, six-five and a good 300 lbs. He was 4" taller than I and out- weighed me by a good hundred pounds or more. He was also in his late fifties and somewhat out of shape. I pegged him correctly for a plainclothes policeman. He was so intent on picking the lock that he didn't even notice me standing behind him…. it was so comical.

I couldn't help myself so just I said it. “BOO!" He spun around with a shocked looked on his face. I was laughing hysterically.

He quickly gained his composure and stood there with his arms crossed. Yes, definitely a cop assuming a superior intimidating postures. He waited for me to stop laughing and then he spoke.

"Alright Mr. Ares you have you've had your little joke, where is she?" I recognized the accent, definitely New York City and most likely Brooklyn.
"To which she, or to whom are you referring too?”

“You know whom I am talking about, I’m talking Laura Fox.”

“I didn't catch your name?" I replied.

"I didn't throw it,” He smirked, pleased with his quick comeback, "Never mind who I am pal, you're in a lot of trouble. I've been hired by Laura's mother to bring her home. Kidnapping is a crime in this state." He said in his loud command voice, taking a step forward.

"So is trespassing on posted private property and breaking and entry...shall I go on?" I retorted calmly, “Laura is of age, and is an adult in the eyes of the law. She now has the best legal representation that money can buy…shall I go on? Get off of our property.

“I am only going to ask you one more time. Where is she?" The big goon asked, sticking his face in mine. It was good cop bad cop, without the good cop; I just smiled.

All I could do was smile, a tsunami of happiness washing over me. Brave girl, disobedient, but brave; I had no more doubts.

Laura let out a loud, "BOO!" And he spun around a second time almost tripping on his big feet. Standing behind him was Laura holding Socrates collar.

"That was a dangerous thing to do my love; you might have gotten hurt."
"I was afraid for you David, I love you so much. You are everything to me!"

"Are you Miss Fox, you don't like anything in your picture." The big goon asked while looking at the photograph that he removed from his pocket and he was frowning.

"I loved you from the minute you first spoke to me little dove, the first moment I saw you. The moment I looked into your beautiful green eyes my brave girl."

"I asked you a question, are you Miss Fox?" He interrupted, yet again.

"Be silent, dolt, I am talking to my fiancé." I commanded.

"Listen asshole, I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to the stupid bitch!" The big goon said, sneering, still trying to intimidate us, and it was all an act of course; he had no jurisdiction, and we had Socrates.

I saw anger flash in Laura's eyes. She let go of Socrates collar and took a step forward. My little dove’s fists were clenched in anger; she was magnificent!

As big as he was, he took a step backwards momentarily unsure. Socrates stepped in front of Laura and was now growling and snarling. Heaven help the man, if he spoke to Laura again in that tone of voice again; let alone raise a hand to her. Socrates loved Laura as much as I, and would follow her commands as if they were mine.

When he turned back to me, I was inches from his face; my turn, “Socrates, “STAND-HIM-UP” I commanded.
Socrates was slowly advancing on him, growling and snarling, while baring his teeth. His massive head was level with the dolt's crotch. As the good Detective was backing up, Socrates was advancing. He was trying to lift his right leg while maintaining his balance in order to reach the gun in his ankle holster.

If he crouched down to remove, it Socrates would bite his face off, or I could kick him in the head. Perhaps the good detective underestimated us. Perhaps he was just careless that day, only idiots and amateurs carry their primary piece in an ankle holster.

He was concentrating on the dog now, hopping backwards on one foot, and was still unable to pull his revolver out. Socrates pinned him against our front door with his head on the man's crotch.

"Don't even try to get your gun out." I said taking mine it out of the Milt Sparks pancake holster on my belt underneath my jacket. I handed the revolver Laura.

"Put your hands behind your head and lace your fingers together. I'm sure you know the drill."

“You’re making a mistake, Miss Fox. I’m on the job, and holding a Police Officer at gunpoint will get you time in prison. Be a good girl and give me the gun before somebody gets hurt. You have no idea the trouble you are both in right now. Don’t make it worse for yourselves.”

I removed his Smith & Wesson stainless steel Model 60 snub -nose revolver from the ankle holster. Then I opened the cylinder and ejected the five .38 caliber hollow-point cartridges to the ground. I searched him and found the two pairs of handcuffs that he was carrying.
I was surprised that he was not carrying extra rounds in a dump pouch or speed loaders, I always do? He also was not carrying a good flashlight, or a collapsible baton. I snapped both cuffs over the frame of his revolver double- locking them with the key which rendered his revolver inoperable. I then put the cuff keys in my pocket. I emptied his pockets of all their other contents, I ordered Socrates to stand next to us.

"Drop the act, Detective! You owe us an apology." I said, as he just glared at us, defiant to the last.

"Are you a good judge of distance? Laura asked “I would estimate your car is 50 yards from where we are standing."

Laura turned and aimed the .41 magnum revolver at his outside passenger door mirror. The 175 Grain Winchester Silver tip hollow point bullet traveling at 1250 feet per-second obliterated the mirror but did little or no damage to the rest of the vehicle.

"You still owe us an apology.” She said, handing me the revolver. “Shall I go into the house and call the State Police?" Laura asked.

"You have every right to call the State Police,” He said sitting down, "I wish you wouldn't though. I will lose my pension,” He sighed, defeated, “I am sorry and I apologize to the both of you. For what it is worth Candy is totally wrong about you, Miss Fox.” I shouldn't have let your Mother’s pretty head cloud my judgment. I should know better at my age."

Laura and I just looked at one another, and I was thinking, “What does he see in her; am I missing something?”

“What are you going to do now?" The defeated Detective asked.

"When will you be eligible to collect your pension Detective Wilson?" I asked him looking at his Gold Star Burst Detective Badge and his New York Police Department ID -Card.

"I have 5 months to go, Mr. Ares. I was thinking of settling down in this part of the state and getting a part time job to supplement my pension. It’s cheaper to live