The

Caretaker

 

 

The Caretaker

First edition - version 1.00 – 47,970 words.

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Summary:

Dylan Clark’s life is going nowhere fast. With his marriage a failure and his prospects for the future grim, he realizes that he needs to make some drastic and serious changes. He takes a mysterious job hoping to get his life back on track and moving forward again. Instead of the hoped-for positive changes, he finds himself caught in a deadly web of mystery and intrigue. What the hell has he gotten himself into and is there any way for him to escape?

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© C. Brink, 2021

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

 

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Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. The story depicts an alternative invented reality and timeline. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. None of the events depicted in the story are actual events. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: This work contains occasional dialog which includes strong language. If words of this nature offend you, do not read. This work also contains descriptions of explicit sexual encounters. Consider yourself warned. NC17

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Acknowledgements:

Special thanks to my early readers. Their help in finding errors or other issues is greatly appreciated. Lending their much-appreciated help with this volume:

Cie_mel

Zen Master

 

 

Chapter 1: What have I gotten myself into?

 

Present day ( October 15^th)

Montana compound (assumed) - Second tour.

 

“I think I messed up,” I said to myself as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The worried looking guy staring back at me seemed to agree. I wrapped up my moment of self-contemplation, rubbed my whiskers a bit and returned to my morning bathroom chores. As I chased the shaver around my face I thought back over the events of the past fifteen months and how I’d gotten myself into this mess.

My name is Dylan Clark. I am your stereotypical divorced, forty-year-old screw up. About thirteen years ago, after another night of drunken indulgence, I had gotten myself caught messing around with some easily forgettable bar hussy. This time, instead of being discovered by my wife Helen, which would have been the second time being caught by her, it was by the bar hussy’s husband. I woke up in the hospital the next day to find myself sporting plenty of new stitches and a terrible headache.

In addition to being informed about why I had been brought there and what my current condition was, I also learned from the stern looking abrupt doctor that my wife had stopped by earlier in the morning and had quickly stormed out in a rage. When I had inquired about my cellphone so I could call her and beg forgiveness, I learned that it had not been among my possessions when I had been brought in the previous night. Just great!

My only visitor later that morning was the local sheriff. It seems that I would not be charged with any crimes… as long as I kept my mouth shut and stayed out of trouble, that is. Despite the fact that I was the clear loser of the fight and also despite my truck having been found burned, apparently I was being considered the perpetrator and instigator of last night’s events. (I later found out that the sheriff was the uncle of the husband who had definitely done the former deed and probably the latter). I was kept in the hospital another night for observation. The phone calls I had made to my wife from the room’s phone went unanswered.

The next morning, I had taken a cab to our apartment. There, I found the door unlocked and the apartment empty of anything belonging to Helen. There had been a note on the counter saying that divorce papers would be coming from her lawyer and that I should not attempt to find her. There was also a note from my boss saying that I was fired. I guess that was the downside to working for one of Helen’s relatives.

Fast forward the next dozen years. The divorce had happened quickly. I had moved on and worked a series of odd jobs but nothing to build a life upon. I had also moved around some and although I stayed out of jail and mostly off the law’s radar, I still spent plenty of time in bars or engaged in other dubious pursuits. There had been the occasional fling, but nothing with the spark I had once felt with my ex-wife. As the years passed, the regret rose at what I had done, what I’d lost, and at my own general stupidity. I needed a change in my life; something to hopefully get it back on track.

One day, an employment listing with an interesting job description caught my eye. It went something like this…

“Wanted. Long term caretaker for a remote residence and property. Must have general maintenance skills including basic electrical, plumbing, light construction, repair, vehicle maintenance, and the ability to work alone and unsupervised. Post high school education not required. No livestock or farming skills needed. Room and board provided. Very generous pay and vacations provided. Ability to tolerate solitude mandatory. Extremely limited communication and NO Internet allowed while on site. Relocation required. Discretion required. Intense background check will be required. DO NOT APPLY IF YOU ARE UNRELIABLE OR UNTRUSTWORTHY! Call 1-800-xxx-xxxx to apply.”

Something about the ad had struck a chord with me. I had grown up on a rural farm out west, so I was used to hard and sometimes solitary work. Many of the odd jobs I had done over the past decade had been light construction and maintenance, and I knew how to fix cars and trucks. The solitary position with relocation and housing provided sounded like just the thing to reset my life and get me back on track. My sketchy background would probably be an issue. But why not at least give it a try.

Oh, how I wished that I had never dialed that number.

***

I stopped reminiscing about the past when I stooped to tie the laces of my work boots. I felt the twinges in my back that proved middle age had fully arrived. The laces finished, I sat up and took a moment to look around the snug one-bedroom house I’d been assigned. Besides the one bedroom, it had a small kitchen, a small living space and an average bathroom which featured a larger than normal shower.

The remaining room in the dwelling was the large entry area in which I was currently sitting. This was a combination laundry and mudroom which held a cleanup sink along with a washer and dryer for my clothing. There were also cubbies and hooks for a wide assortment of outdoor work gear for all seasons. One unique feature of this space was a bank of three small closet doors. Two were locked and, I assumed, full of the personal items and gear for the other caretakers.

One was mine and was currently empty as all my gear and clothing had been removed for my use while I was manning at this facility. In three weeks, I would be bundling up all my stuff and securing it in the closet as I would be leaving for my month off. It would be over four months before I returned here, but I’d explain that later.

I checked my ever-present smart phone and saw that the tasks for this morning had not been changed during the night and remained generator maintenance and replacement. I zipped up my jacket, checked that my gloves were in my pockets and departed my quarters. On the front porch I stopped to survey the weather. It was mid-October and the morning was cool. But the sun was out, and the winds were calm, so it looked to be a great day for working outside.

As I walked down the concrete path which led to the compound’s large metal paneled maintenance building, I could not help glancing towards the main entry. There, the compact but imposing concrete two story security building sat beside the main gate. While the ground floor of the solid looking building had just a few solid metal doors, the upper story had numerous small reflective windows facing in all directions. I could easily imagine the security ninja inside watching me right now through binoculars. I resisted the urge to wave and continued down the path nonchalantly although I was all too aware I was probably being watched.

I seldom saw the Security Ninja which was my made-up name for the imposing characters. But I knew he (or she, I guess to be fair,) was either in the reinforced building or lurking about somewhere outside nearby. Sometimes the overhead door would open on the main floor of the building and a heavy looking 4x4 would emerge to do a patrol or some other task. The vehicle had almost opaque tinted windows and I was never sure who was in it. Another odd feature of the vehicle was that the license plates had removable covers. They remained fastened in place obscuring the numbers and state whenever I saw them.

I was not sure if there was more than one security ninja on duty or if more lived in the structure. I imagined there had to be others, as how else could a proper full-time watch be maintained? Aside from the unknown number of security personnel, there was at least one other active person on the compound besides myself. This was the housekeeper for the primary residence. He or she was as much a mystery as the security ninja was.

I had only seen the housekeeper active outside a few times as they had departed the main gate on some errand. They had also driven a dark-windowed, heavy looking 4x4 sport utility vehicle with obscured plates. I am sure the facility occasionally saw more staff or guests at times but during those periods I was instructed to remain in my dwelling or out-of-site elsewhere. Even more mysterious was that when I was confined indoors, my small house’s windows became opaque and I was not able to observe the happenings going on outside. It was good that my house had a well-stocked bookcase and a compact exercise machine in the living space.

I reached the maintenance building and entered my access code. The steel door unlocked and I went inside to begin my workday. The first thing I did was to open two of the three large overhead doors on the south face of the building so that I could take advantage of the sunny weather and calm day. The third door remained closed as per standard procedure. That door led to the interior-located concrete ramp which descended down to the bunker-like concrete basement level deep below ground. I had been instructed that that door was to remain closed at all times unless I was using it to access the ramp.

As the two big doors opened I surveyed the rest of the large building’s interior. My maintenance equipment and tools looked clean and ordered as I had left them. The largest of these was a cabbed utility tractor which I would be using for today’s generator replacement task. There was also a skid loader and a large zero-turn-radius mower. Last month, before fall weather had set in, I would typically spend a dozen hours a week on the mower keeping up with the grass cutting for the large compound. Now with the cooler weather that lawn work was over.

The near bay of the building held four vehicles: An ATV, a UTV, and two 4x4 pickup trucks. One of the trucks was fitted with a five-hundred-gallon water tank, pumps, and a firefighting hose. It served as the compound’s firefighting unit and I was the acting fireman but luckily, I had not had to perform that duty so far. None of these vehicles had license plates so they could not legally leave the area of the compound.

The next required task was to inspect the building’s secured small arms locker. This was a case located near the entry door which I opened by scanning my hand print on a reader plate. Inside was a rifle, a handgun, and a shotgun. I verified that each was in its place along with the required number of rounds and shells. The rifle was a Ruger Mini-14 with a scope.

The compact semiautomatic rifle was chambered in 5.56mm and sported a shoulder strap and collapsible bipod. It had proved deadly to mangy coyotes and rabid skunks all the way out to the outer fence. There were a half dozen loaded twenty round magazines for the rifle in the case.

The shotgun was a twelve-gauge Remington 870 Express Super Magnum. There were four boxes of shells with one each of slugs, buckshot, number two and number eight shot. These were all three and a half inch shells (except for the number eight) and packed a bit of a wallop when fired, especially the slugs. The shells were also all-lead instead of steel or tungsten which was strange for this environmentally friendly day and age.

The handgun was a Sig Sauer P229 in 9mm. There were six ten-round magazines for the compact weapon. There were also six extended capacity magazines. All were loaded with jacketed expanding hollow point bullets. Along with the weapons and ammo, the case held other items of gear including a holster for the handgun, a pair of 10x50 binoculars and even a night vision monocle.

Once I had verified that the cabinet’s contents were present and secure, I stepped back to allow the twin cameras mounted above and to the side to see that I had left all three weapons in place. I then closed the case door until it latched with a loud click. Next, I tugged on the handle firmly to demonstrate to the cameras that I had verified that it was fully secured.

With my first required duty complete I finally went to the tractor. Before I climbed up into the cab, I checked the tire pressures and the engine oil level. It started with the normal smoky exhaust and rough rumble of a cold diesel engine. As I let it warm up for a minute, I turned on the stereo. As always, the tractor’s radio was set to Bluetooth and started playing my playlist which was stored on my smart phone. Bluetooth was the only option as the tractor radio’s AM, FM and satellite settings were disabled. I lost myself in the music for a few minutes until I noticed the heater finally blowing warm air.

With the engine now up to operating temperature, I nudged the autoshift lever forward and eased the tractor outside. Turning carefully on the paved pad I headed towards the compound’s main entry. As always, I was a bit anxious as I pulled up next to the imposing security building and stopped in front of the closed, heavy steel gate. Within seconds, my smart phone pinged with a text message. It was the expected normal message of two spaced question marks. I replied with my personal ‘correct’ code (I had an ‘incorrect’ one that I was to use if I was under duress) followed by a short message of

Overhauled generator retrieval.

After a half-minute wait, during which I assumed the security ninja was matching my reason for leaving with today’s work schedule, the gate opened. I nudged the tractor into forward and increased its speed, heading down the narrow-paved lane at about ten miles per hour. My destination was the turn-around pad and small parking area located just outside the other security gate and perimeter fence. This was almost a mile away and also over a low hill. I kept the speed fairly low and spent the time outside the compound looking over the rolling hills of what I imagined was eastern Montana ranch country.

I say ‘imagined’ as I had no idea where the compound actually was located. It just reminded me of the big sky country of the western prairies, but it could have been in the Dakota’s or even Canada for all I knew. Hell, it could have even been Siberia. Wherever I was, it was currently fall and the area had seen a light snow fall just last week, so the location had to be north of say… Nebraska, if it was actually in North America.

The tractor topped the low hill that separated the main compound from the outer fence. I was able to see the small, paved parking area near the access roads turn around. The reason for my excursion sat waiting in the parking area. It was a large trailer-mounted generator set. This was the third of the compound’s three such generator sets and it had been sent out for overhaul over a month ago after reaching its limit of three thousand operating hours.

To accumulate that number of hours took about eight months. Four months spent as the primary running unit and four months acting as a standby backup to the primary. With the three units rotating through these cycles, one was leaving for an overhaul every four months. I slowed my tractor at the unmanned outer gate. The ninja must have been watching through one of the numerous pole-mounted cameras as the gate started opening before I had to stop the tractor completely.

This gate was simply a standard chain link gate and much lighter than the main one back at the compound. The fence on either side was just a normal six strand barbed wire fence but it was well constructed and strong with every other post being a full wood post instead of the simpler steel ones. The outer fence stretched off in each direction almost a mile until it disappeared over the rolling hills. The total length of the perimeter fence was almost seven miles.

How did I know that? Well, once a week on average I walked the entire perimeter inspecting each post and wire. Yes, I walked it. My smart phone instructions were clear on that. Absolutely no ATV or tractor usage was permitted during the outer fence inspections. Only if I found major damage was I allowed to take a work vehicle to do the repairs. Otherwise, I hiked the seven miles with a heavy canvas backpack containing the basic fencing tools. I had grumbled for a month about it at first. When I noticed myself growing stronger and getting in much better shape, I realized the ulterior motive behind the strange requirement.

At the parking area I backed up the tractor to the hitch of the generator trailer. I dismounted and went to insert the attachment pin and connect the brake controller cabling. While I was there, I gave the generator a quick inspection and checked all six trailer tires. Everything looked good but I had a few more tasks to do at the outer gate area before I could return to the compound.

The first was to give the cameras and gate hardware a quick inspection, cleaning or greasing. The second was to inspect the fuel unloading station. This was a small enclosure containing a pump and filtering unit. It was the start of the underground diesel fuel line which ran back to the compound and terminated in the large underground tanks buried there. Periodically (I guessed, as I never got to observe actual fuel deliveries) a tanker truck must arrive here and offload a load of fuel.

The last task I performed was to use the small cordless trimmer I had brought to take care of any weeds or grass around the gate structure, the fuel unloading terminal and the small, locked shipping container that was kept here for receiving packages and deliveries. There was little trimming needed due to the lateness of the year, but I did the task anyway. Trimming a few weeds was much easier than having to shovel snow as would probably be needed to be done in a few months’ time.

My previous stay at this location (when I had been a complete rookie) had been back in March. Then, I had had to do snow removal. I had used the tractor with a snow blower attachment to keep the roads and trails clear up to and slightly past the outer gate. Someone else must have had the job of clearing the road leading off from here to elsewhere, but I never observed that portion as it happened. Luckily, last March this location had seen only one major blizzard before spring had arrived.

Soon, I was back in the tractor and towing the generator trailer unit back to the compound. I watched to verify that the outer gate fully closed behind me and headed the half mile over the hill to the main gate. I kept the speed to a fast crawl as the loaded trailer was heavy. And there was no real hurry as the generator duties were scheduled to take all morning.

Finally, after ten minutes I reached the main gate. It was shut as I expected, and I again exchanged texts with the security ninja requesting entry. Shortly the inner gate opened, and I moved the tractor and generator trailer inside the compound and stopped at the designated marked area. As per standard procedure I shut the tractor off and waited. All four windows of the cab went opaque and it was like sitting in a white fog. The ninja liked to do his or her inspection without my watching eye.

The inspection of the generator trailer had been known to take up to twenty minutes so I zoned out and listened to my music. It was not long before I once again returned to reminiscing about how I had gotten myself into this mess.

***

Fifteen months earlier

 

An automated phone message had answered when I had dialed the number on the job listing. The synthetic voice had begun a detailed list of questions to which I was to key in yes, no, or other simple answers. Only a few minutes of that had me yelling “Bull shit!” followed by my hanging up. A beer (or two) later found me calm enough, and somewhat humbled, to try again so I dialed the number and slogged my way through the questions.

The process took almost twenty minutes and the questions ranged from my work abilities and skills to my personal sins and bad habits. The questions even veered into forbidden territory by including questions about my age, gender, health, personal beliefs and sexual preferences. Finally, I was instructed to enter a contact number and that I would be contacted at some point in the next two to four weeks.

After two weeks I had mostly forgotten about the call and had dismissed my chances of ever hearing back. A further week went by and I was walking home after finishing a nearby odd job for one of my regular clients when a car pulled up and stopped next to me.

“Dylan Clark?” the pimply-faced young driver asked.

For a moment I was shocked. “Yes, I’m Dylan Clark.”

“I’m from XYZ courier services. I have a package for you.” He handed me a medium sized padded envelope. “Please sign here,” he said, holding out an electronic pad.

Shit! Was I being served or something? As far as I could recall, no one currently hated me that much. As I took the envelope and signed, I asked, “How did you find me here?”

“Cell phone tracking. Thank you,” he said and drove off.

Tracking! What the hell! I got out my phone and checked all the settings. All tracking was off. Had the kid been lying or was something wrong with my phone? Looking at the sealed envelope, I decided to wait to open it until after I had reached my small apartment. After a few blocks of puzzlement about the package, I finally remembered the phoned-in job questionnaire. This might be the results of my application. The thickness of the envelope gave me hope!

Inside the envelope I found a short letter, a debit card and a plane ticket. I noted that the ticket was for a round trip flight to Cleveland of all places. The time and date of departure was for the morning the day after tomorrow. The return flight was for two days after that. I read the note.

Hello Mr. Clark.

You have been selected to receive an on-site interview for the position you have requested.

If you do not wish to attend the on-site interview, please call the following number and say the words “I decline” when prompted. 1-800-xxx-xxxx. Please destroy the included debit card and airline ticket.

If you wish to attend the on-site interview, and possess the ability to be discrete, please utilize the enclosed airline ticket to fly to our location in Cleveland. Toiletries and clothing for each day in Cleveland and for your return flight will be provided. Do not bring luggage or a carry on. Only your phone and ID will be required.

The enclosed debit card contains $500.00 for your preparation and travel cost. Please use this for cab fare, food items and other incidentals, if required.

Once you arrive in Cleveland, take the airport hotel shuttle to the Destin Inns Hotel where a room has been reserved under your name. Further instructions will be waiting in the room.

If any issues should arrive during travel, call the following number. 1-800-xxx-xxxx

Procurement Department.

Well, that was interesting. I re-read the letter once more and scrutinized the airline tickets. I looked at the debit card. Preparation and travel needs. Hmm… What would I need to prepare? Should I buy new clothes? From the job description this would not be an office job so dress clothing would probably be unwise. I decided that I would splurge on a new button-down work shirt, a clean pair of blue jeans and a new pair of shoes. Cleveland in September could have either cool or hot weather. I checked the weather forecast for that area and saw that it should be in the high fifties so I could just take my existing light jacket.

The next morning, after buying my items I decided to also spend a bit of the remaining debit card money on a barber haircut and shave. That done, I was as ready as I could be. I called my regular clients and told them that I was heading out of town for a short week and that I would let them know when I’d be back in the area. A few even acted like they would miss me.

 

***

 

The hotel was a nice midrange affair a few miles from Cleveland Hopkins International Airport. When the shuttle dropped me off a bit after noon, I found a room waiting under my name as specified. I was able to check in early and went up to the room to inspect it and freshen up. Inside, I found a bag on the bed that contained the basic toiletries I would need for the next few days.

Hanging in the tall wardrobe was a garment bag which contained a second pair of new blue jeans and two more shirts. One was a plain colored tee shirt and the second was a short-sleeved polo. There were also two pair each of new underwear and socks. I frowned when I realized that all the clothing was in my size. How had they known?

Now what to do? I looked around the room and spotted a note laying on the bedside stand next to the clock radio. The message was simple.

Mr. Clark.

A gray sedan will be waiting outside the main hotel entry at 2pm. Please be on time. If you are hungry, feel free to utilize the restaurant on the ground floor. Use your room number for payment.

Well, that answered the question of what to do. Grab some food and be ready to go at the main entry in about two hours. I headed down to the restaurant for a burger. I was waiting outside in the early fall air when a gray sedan pulled up precisely at 2:00 pm. The no-nonsense driver exited the car and came around to open the passenger rear door. I got in without saying anything. It was the first time that I could ever remember having a door opened for me.

When he was back in the driver’s seat he turned to speak.

“Hello Mr. Clark. I have been instructed to take you to a number of places this afternoon. I have also been instructed to not speak beyond giving you these instructions. My service has been hired to simply drive you to these destinations and then return you to this hotel later today. I am to wait for you at each location. That is all I know. I am required to see your driver’s license before we proceed.”

I dug out my wallet and handed him my license. He carefully verified my name and that the photograph matched my face before returning it to me. He then started the car moving. I watched him drive but he ignored me. Not even glancing in the rear-view mirror. OK, your name is now Silent Bob. This trip was getting stranger by the minute.

***

Our first stop was at a small utilitarian looking clinic. It was the type that did drug testing and other basic procedures for businesses and institutions. Inside, I was asked my name and after a short wait I was hustled into the back where I had a full physical. I also had a few x-rays taken which included my lungs, back and the major joints. Blood was drawn… A LOT of blood and I had to give a urine sample. A tired looking doctor asked me a half dozen medical related questions before I was sent off without even my sucker.

This time Silent Bob did not get out to let me in. Apparently my status was downgraded after my official introduction. Instead, he just started the car after I closed the door behind me. I did catch a brief glance from him in the mirror this time. We drove for ten minutes until Bob pulled into a dental clinic. I scowled a bit as I walked in. Who loved going to the dentist?

What followed was a normal dental exam followed by a full set of dental x-rays. The checkup ended with a cleaning which was a bit painful and annoying. My last had been years ago… probably when I had still been married to Helen. Finally, when the hygienist was done the dentist finished up. She was an attractive middle-aged woman who looked a bit stern and bored.

“Mr. Clark. You have two early cavities. We have been instructed to not do any fillings or other work at this time but to forward our results on to our client. I would imagine that you will be getting the two teeth repaired at a later date. Otherwise, your teeth are in decent shape.”

“Can you tell me anything about the client?” I asked.

She just shook her head and left. Soon after, my sore mouth and I were back in the car staring at the back of Silent Bob’s head. I wondered what the next stop would be. It was pushing four thirty in the afternoon. It was too early for supper and I guessed the next stop would be for an eye exam.

Forty minutes later I was back in the car. I had been right! I had been told that although my eyesight was good, I should probably get used to keeping a set of reading glasses around for the fine print. Traffic was picking up, as it was now after five pm and people were leaving work. I wondered if that was all for today and when I would be taken back to the hotel. I saw streets that I was familiar with, so I suspected we were heading back to the hotel. Bob pulled up to the drop off area at a quarter to six and let me off without a word. I did not feel bad for skipping out on tipping him.

Back in my room I heaved a sigh of relief. With today’s travel and the stress of the strange medical examinations I was tired. I was also hungry. I noticed a new note on the bedside table.

Mr. Clark.

Please arrive at the hotel restaurant for supper at 7:00 pm. Check in with the hostess at that time as you will be joining a guest for your meal. Additional discussions about your suitability will take place during and after your meal.

Great! Nothing like eating while being observed. I looked and I had just enough time to use the bathroom and take a quick shower. I then dressed in the new polo shirt and headed down to the hotel restaurant. I gave my name to the hostess and was escorted to a secluded booth near the back. The booth was empty, so I ordered myself an iced tea to help cover my growling stomach and waited for my ‘guest’.

My supper companion arrived after only a few minutes. She was an attractive and intelligent looking woman about my age. I found myself standing quickly as we shook hands and introduced ourselves. She already knew my name and I learned that hers was Barb… yes, just Barb. That was her exact reply when I asked for a last name. I also learned that Just Barb was as hungry as I was when she dispensed with any additional pleasantries and recommended we get our food ordering done and sent off quickly.

I ordered a ribeye steak and baked potatoes. She ordered fish and chips along with a glass of wine. I had stuck with the iced tea as I was unsure how drinking would be taken in this interview. When our order was in she turned her attention to me. I prepared myself for a grilling. Instead, she surprised me when she began to talk mostly about herself. I found myself quickly taken in by Just Barb. She told me stories of her schooling and different life experiences which I surprisingly found interesting. She was funny and easy to listen too.

It was nearly fifteen minutes later when I realized that the conversation had slowly shifted from her talking to more of me freely giving details of my past. The woman was good! Our meal arrived about that time and we focused on tucking in. My steak was really good… maybe one of the top ten I’d ever eaten. The beef was clearly well-aged and almost fell apart on the fork. It was seasoned to perfection and no sauce was needed other than a bit of butter and salt to bring out its wonderful flavor. The baked potato was cooked perfectly and the toppings of chives, bacon, sour cream, and butter filled out the perfect meal.

Just Barb had only good things to say about her fish and chips and I imagined I would have enjoyed that almost as much as my steak. As our meals dwindled we resumed talking. Again, she took the lead and slowly mesmerized me with her wit and charm. She sprinkled in the questions and I found myself again giving detailed answers without feeling nervous or self-conscious. For the next two hours we talked. I had spilled my soul about my failings, my fears, and my past and present issues. I had ended up expressing my hopes for the future and my dreams of becoming a better person.

The conversions varied widely. Not all of it was focused on my past or current self. Just Barb also told stories, some of them dark, and asked my opinion of them or how I would have responded. Some were clearly criminal, some were tragic. Some even seemed evil. I never detected a hint from her if my responses were right or wrong. She simply smiled as she listened… occasionally asking follow up questions or for me to explain my thoughts further.

I was not a saint and in hindsight, probably regretted how I answered or responded to some of her lines of query. But I was honest. In the beginning that was the only thing she demanded, more than once, just be honest. If I were not, it would not work out well for me and I would not be happy with the position. A bit after nine she looked at her phone and said that she had five minutes left. Were there any questions I had for her? I quickly learned that she had no knowledge of the details of the job I was applying for. Her role was to observe my ‘meta’ abilities and perceptions. I never even bothered to ask what that meant.

We finally wrapped up our talk when she sent a long text on her phone. Finishing that, she returned her attention to me.

“Well Dylan, thank you for your company and for sharing your thoughts. In a minute I will leave but please wait here and someone will be joining you shortly. I have been instructed to tell you two things. The first is that what follows tonight will not affect your chances for the position in any way, no matter how you choose to proceed. Feel free to enjoy the night… or not. The second instruction was that information on tomorrow’s activities will be delivered to your room by eight AM. Please be awake at that time to receive it. Thank you and good luck.”

With that said, Just Barb got up and left. She did not indicate in any way if I had passed or failed. I sat there a bit confused. It had been a great meal and I had enjoyed the conversation, but I was unsure of exactly what had happened. If I could find the best way to describe the feeling, it would be that I had been interrogated by an expert in the subtle ways of extracting information. I suspect that Barb was no simple common person. She probably had extensive training in extraction, psychology, and persuasion.

A few minutes later, a new person walked up to the booth. Oh my God she was hot! This woman was at least a decade younger than me and had long silky black hair that framed a perfect pale white Elven face. Her eyes were blue, and her little blue dress showed perfect legs and thighs through high revealing side slits. Her breasts were delicious looking full ‘C’ cups (I had risked a glance), with plenty of cleavage revealed by the dress’s low-cut front.

 

Chapter 2: A Night to remember.

 

Still fifteen months earlier - Cleveland

 

“Hi! I’m Callie. You must be Mr. Mystery. Can I sit down?”

I simply nodded. I was glad my mouth had not fallen open. Just then, two drinks were delivered to our booth. They were doubles and looked to be full of bourbon.

“I’ve ordered us a round of ice breakers. I hope you don’t mind?”

Again, I simply shook my head. She then calmed me down by asking me simple questions about what I liked best about women. I found that my descriptions somehow seemed to always sway to her current appearance. She noticed my inclinations and gave me a wicked smile at my responses. My drink was smooth and was going down well. Soon we had both finished.

“We could stay here and get drunk but that sounds rather dull. Do you mind if we go to your room instead?” she asked.

This time I was able to get my voice to work and said smoothly, “That sounds like a great idea.”

When we were riding the elevator up to my floor the reality of the situation hit me with full force. With a clearly nervous expression I looked to her, “Uh… Callie… I hate to ask but…”

She smiled and put a finger on my lips. “Relax Hun. Yes, I am a professional. Yes, I’m all yours for tonight. Everything has been covered. I also have plenty of condoms with me… and I have been to the vet recently and am certified one hundred percent grade ‘A’ fresh.”

With that, she leaned in and started nibbling on my earlobe. Oh my. My brain short circuited and my lower brain took control. With our arms around each other, we walked down the hotel corridor to my room. She had to help me with the door key card but had just smiled at my fumbling. Entering the room, I detoured into the bathroom to take a leak. When I finished, I did stare at myself in the mirror for a moment wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.

Before Callie took her turn in the bathroom, she told me to get fully undressed and to get on the bed. I saw that she had the extra sheet folded and spread out on the beds surface. I spotted a small bottle of oil near the clock radio, which was already playing soft music. Her phone was connected to the radio so it was her own playlist. The room lights were off except for the desk lamp in the far corner. I undressed and waited on the bed as instructed.

After a few minutes, she exited the bathroom and carefully hung up her dress. She was wearing a black demi-bra and a tiny thong. Oh my God she was hot. She just winked when she caught me staring at her body. She then turned around and bent over without bending her knees and got a few condoms from her small handbag. I was presented with a perfect ass and the gap between her thighs must have been over an inch. I had to force myself to keep my mouth closed. She sauntered over to the bedside and set the condoms on the night stand.

“We’ll only need those for the main event Hun. I received a text earlier that you are also certified grade “A” fresh. That means we can have more fun playing!”

That information must have come from my clinic visit earlier. The testing must have included an expedited test for sexual transmitted diseases. That my medical information had been sent to Callie beforehand also said that my ‘testers’ knew what would likely be happening here tonight. Either they were testing my morals or my impulse control… both of which I was about to fail big-time. Or they did not care about what happened here tonight and all would be well. Regardless, I had already made up my mind. Full speed ahead!

I watched Callie slink around the room for a bit. She was so fine. Her taut abs and firm thighs showed that she regularly worked out. I did not see any signs that she used or abused drugs, which was a relief. She also was either a great actress or loved her work as she looked to be enjoying herself. Her fragrance was heady. Some variation of jasmine. I was starting to respond.

“Roll over Hun, I want to start on your back.”

I did as she asked and assumed that position. Callie left me waiting in anticipation for half a minute before beginning to work on my feet and legs. She proved to be an excellent masseuse and hit all the right spots, slowly working her way up my legs and thighs to begin to knead my ass. Her hot firm thighs were straddling my legs, as she dug in with her hands kneading the muscles of my lower back.

Callie moved up and worked over my back and shoulders. She was now saddled on my ass and I could feel her hot mound rubbing across my lower back as she worked and stretched to reach my upper shoulders and arms. Occasionally she would lean down and rub her chest on my upper back. I could feel her hard nipples dragging across my flesh. I was simultaneously feeling relaxed from her massage and excitement from her sexual advances. She finished up on my back and arms and concentrated on my neck. After a few minutes of that she moved to climb off of me.

“Now roll over onto your back Hun. Let me see what I have to work with now that you are fully… engaged,” she said with a husky voice.

I did as she asked. She smiled a real smile and licked her lips as my proud manhood sprang into view.

“Very nice. That should fill all the right places.”

I had nothing to be ashamed of. While I was not a freak or a ‘trophy,’ as we called in back in the gymnasium locker rooms, I was easily above average and my pecker had served me well over the years. I wish I could say the same about my slight paunch. Even though I kept busy doing physical work, my love of beer had led to a bit of a beer gut. I was glad to see that Callie paid my larger, upper bulge no mind. She moved back down and started on my feet and legs again.

Now I could watch her as she worked. Her demi-bra had been removed and her firm breasts heaved and glistened with a combination of the massage oil and a slight sheen of sweat from her exertion. The room was too dim for me to easily make out the treasures between her legs, but I suspected I’d find out about that area soon enough. Her face was serene and focused as she concentrated on molding the muscles of both legs. Soon, she moved up to my thighs and began working those areas.

I had to widen my legs a bit as she focused on one and then the other thigh individually. Her strong hands wound around each of my upper thigh muscles in turn. Occasionally she would massage my balls and my taint as she passed her hands down those areas. I would moan each time she did. My cock was rock hard and standing proud.

“Hun, your cock is so hard and beautiful. Do you think you can get it this hard a second time? I want to taste you, but I also want to feel you inside me later. “

She had stated that carefully with her husky voice. I caught that she was politely asking me if I had erection issues. That would not be a problem tonight. Twice for sure. It had been a long time since I had gone for three, but I was game to try.

“You are so hot babe that I don’t think that will be a problem.” I replied.

“Oh good!” she said and then proceeded to take me into her mouth more than half way to the root.

Oh my God that felt good! I closed my eyes, laid my head back on my pillow and let out a long groan. My cock throbbed but I somehow kept from shooting instantly. She slowly applied suction and brought her mouth back up my shaft, teasing the underside of the crown with her tongue for a bit before letting my cock’s large spongy head pop out from between her lips.

I opened my eyes and looked back down at her with amazement. She was staring back at me with a lusty smile. After I had calmed a bit, she did another plunge. This time was even better, and I almost came. My toes curled and my hips slowly rose as her mouth moved up my shaft, trying to prolong the contact. All too soon I popped free.

“Callie, I don’t know if I can last through one more of those,” I gasped.

“Well, let’s make it count then shall we?” she replied.

She grabbed the base of my cock firmly and began to jack me off. As she sped up, she lowered her head and began to suck vigorously while swirling her tongue around the underside of my sensitive cock repeatedly. I groaned again and felt myself quickly building to climax. As I tensed my hips she sped up her hand and mouth actions even faster.

Suddenly, I was there. I jammed my hips up as high as I could as I came. My first jet of semen hit her deep in the back of her throat. She continued to jack off my cock as she swallowed quickly. After the third spasm, she removed her hand and plunged her head downward, forcing my cock past her tonsils and embedding it deep in her throat.

“Oh my God!” I yelled out. No woman had ever done that to me before. My orgasm stretched on even longer and I gave her two more good jets before I was reduced to simple spasms of pleasure. I felt her throat muscles working hard, both massaging my cock and swallowing the remains of my spend. When my spasms finally died down she slowly pulled off of me, maintaining suction until, with a final pop, she was completely off my cock. I just lay there staring at her in amazement.

Her smile seemed real as she slowly crawled up my chest… her hard nipples dragging lines up my torso. When she was even with my head she asked, “Did you enjoy that Hun?”

I surprised her when instead of answering I grabbed her head and kissed her deeply. She stiffened for a moment before giving herself to me and returning my kiss.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said when we finally broke apart.

“Yes. It was amazing. You are amazing. Thank you.” I replied.

She laid her head on my shoulder for a minute as my breathing slowed.

“Some men won’t kiss me after I do that,” she said quietly.

“I don’t have any latent fears of being gay so it does not bother me. Besides, you deserve respect for how good you made me feel. I hope to return the favor shortly, “I said.

“Good!” Callie said as she moved back down and straddled me to resume her massage.

This time she concentrated on my abs and chest. She scooted up further as she moved to my neck and upper arms. I could feel the heat of her sex on my stomach. When it looked like she was nearing the end of my massage I reached down and cupped her tight ass with both my hands and pulled her further forward. Now, my head was between her thighs and her wet thong was inches from my nose. I reached up to fondle her tits as I kissed and nibbled on her inner thighs.

It was her turn to give out a moan or two. She slowly inched her way further up until my nose was buried in her mound. I nuzzled her silky covered hot area and tongued the wet fabric of her thong. Her smell was intoxicating and I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. She reached down and pulled her thong to one side and pressed her hot slit against my lips. I got to work and laved her sex with my tongue. Her nipples seemed to grow even firmer under my fingers. I gave them a slight pinch and she gasped and shuddered a bit.

“Hun! Right there! You got it! Keep going!” she husked.

I did my best to bring her off with just my mouth. Her hips were moving back and forth grinding her sex onto my lips and tongue, the speed and force of her movements quickening. I did not have too much freedom of movement so I did the best I could to keep up. Suddenly she stopped and climbed off my face.

“I’ve got to get rid of this damned thong!”

I watched her quickly strip off the skimpy garment and toss it towards the TV. She then spun around and crawled back on me, this time with her head near my cock and her cunt and thighs surrounding my head. I grabbed her ass with both hands again and forced her cunt onto my mouth.

“Ohh Hun! That’s it!” she gasped as I went to work on her clit with my lips. As she ground herself on my face, I worked two fingers down and plunged them into her channel. She was sopping wet and ready.

She quickly took my half hard cock into her mouth and plunged down, again taking me to the root. Her hips were bucking as I continued to work away. She tried to keep up on my cock but soon pulled off to lay her head on my thigh gasping deeply as her climax caught up with her. I felt her shudder and her cunt squeezed my fingers. I kept up the suction as her juices poured from her faster than before.

After a half dozen good spasms, she rolled off of me saying, “Enough! So good!”

We lay there catching our breath. I was happy I had brought her off. It had to have been real as I doubt anyone could have faked such powerful internal muscle actions. Soon, she rolled around a bit and resumed her attentions on my mostly hardened cock. Her nipping and lapping at it brought it awake and her slowly working hand quickly had it back in working order.

“Are you ready to give me a good fucking Hun?” she asked with a smile.

I just answered by reaching over and grabbing one of the condoms. She took it from me and did the chore of getting it rolled in place over my shaft. When it was fitted Callie quickly spun around and impaled herself on my cock, taking me with one slow and steady plunge.

“Oh yeah,” she hissed.

“Uuggg!” I grunted.

She began to rock her hips. Her arms were on my chest and began playing with my nipples. My hands returned the favor on her tits for a bit before settling down around her hips, guiding her movements. She looked so hot as she worked away on my body. Sweat was covering both of us and we were both breathing deeply enjoying the sensations.

Soon, she moved her legs and I felt her feet straddling my knees as she found a position which gave her better leverage. She began to work her hips faster and added a few inches of up and down thrusting. The condom and my previous ejaculation had given my cock staying power and I just watched her working hard to pleasure the both of us. After a few minutes she saw my smirk and rolled off.

“Your turn to work it for a while Hun. Get busy!” she said as she assumed a sexy pose, presenting herself to me on her knees with her ass in the air and her upper torso lying flat on the bed. I rolled over and got up and knee walked my rigid cock towards her delicious target. She looked so hot and inviting that I stopped and dropped into position to bury my face in her snatch from behind. She grunted as I sucked on her cunt and clit, thrusting her hips back against my face. I quickly felt her hand move up and begin quickly strumming her clit.

“Oh Hun! You are doing everything right tonight!” she gasped. After a minute she hissed, “Get that cock in me and get back to work!”

I felt her finger action continuing on her clit as I stood up and slotted my hard latex-covered shaft into her pink moist channel. I pushed into her steadily all the way to the hilt, making her huff as I filled her with my seven hard inches. When I bottomed out, I pulled out quickly and gave her my full length again, this time a bit faster. Her frigging motions on her clit sped up even faster and she started moaning continuously. I kept up my steady impalement and retraction but quickened the pace and the force of each full deep thrust.

“Oh Hun! I’m getting close! Give it to meeee!”

I began thrusting as fast and as hard as I could. The room rang with the smack of my hips and balls striking her ass. I felt the tingle of my own orgasm nearing just as her cunt began tightening around me.

Her ass suddenly thrust back at me hard as she shrieked out a loud, “YES!”

Her rapidly spasming cunt triggered my own orgasm and I roared, burying myself inside her and filling the condom with my second load of the night. After my thrusts and spasms died down I collapsed forward on top of her hunched-up ass. She was also in the last throes of her orgasm and reached back to tap my hip with her free hand.

“Good job stud! It does not get any better than that,” she panted.

I had to agree. I rolled off and collapsed beside her totally spent. My age had caught up with me and I was exhausted. I had a smile on my face though and ignored the thought of the aches and pains I would feel in the morning. Callie had also rolled onto her side and was facing me.

After a moment she said, “Hun. I hope you believe me when I say that you were great. I generally enjoy what I do but nights like tonight are rare and I will remember it fondly.“

That was a preview of The Caretaker. To read the rest purchase the book.

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