Tiny Tim

Copyright © 2023 by Overconfident Sarcasm

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except for brief quotations which may be used for the purpose of creating reviews.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Introduction

As a young Teenager, Timothy Brown finds himself increasingly alienated by his family. On the day of his sister’s birthday, he finally learns the reasons for these drastic changes, as he catches his family in an orgy at his uncle’s house. This is the story of a young man trying to navigate through life while dealing with neglectful parents and abusive siblings.

How far does he have to go to make his family see the damage they’re causing? And how much will they need to do if they want to restore his trust and regain his love?

Special Thanks to TangoPeru, whose Story “The Broken Circle” not only inspired me to write this in the first place, but who also helped me write it by pointing out quite a few faults with my plotline.

Contents

Disclaimer

Introduction

Chapter 01: Learning the Truth about My Family

Chapter 02: Meeting Tess

Chapter 03: Loving Tess

Chapter 04: Losing Tess

Chapter 05: On My Own

Chapter 06: Not My Home

Chapter 07: The Logan Problem

Chapter 08: Hope?

Chapter 09: Doing it myself

Chapter 10: Finishing up

Chapter 11: I don’t do Panic Attacks!

Chapter 12: Making a home for myself

Chapter 13: Nora

Chapter 14: Lessons learned

Chapter 15: Understanding my Sister

Chapter 16: Ava’s Turning Point

Chapter 17: Working through the Holidays

Chapter 18: Mia

Chapter 19: Distrust

Chapter 20: Making them choose

Chapter 21: A Girlfriend to Love

Chapter 22: From “Claire” to “Mom”

Chapter 23: Finding Love for My Sister

Chapter 24: Finding Love for My Mother

Chapter 25: A new Home for my Family

Chapter 1 - Learning the Truth about My Family

Just after 3 PM on November 15th, I walked through the front door of the house I grew up in and, for a short moment, took in the silence greeting me. After dropping my backpack and getting rid of my shoes, I made my way into the kitchen. My mind on the report I’d have to write at the firm. School and work were really all I did anymore. On the kitchen table, I found a note in my mother’s handwriting; they all went out with Uncle John’s family since my parents’ favorite Child was back from college for the weekend. Just like last year, when they forgot about my birthday, they made plans that didn’t include me. At least this year they didn’t blame me for disturbing their fun time by coming home.

A quick survey of my surroundings revealed two recently used but empty pots on the stove, as well as four plates in the sink. No leftovers in the fridge or oven. I did, however, find the leftovers in the trash can. I was used to it.

By the time I finished cleaning up the kitchen to make myself something to eat, my appetite was somehow gone, and I just felt droopy. So, instead of cooking, I went up to my room to grab a soda from my own little fridge and boot up my PC. I found a newsletter mail from the delivery service I frequently used regarding my birthday. A coupon code for a free muffin (if I pay for a pizza). I looked around and saw no presents and no cards. I wasn’t surprised. At least, with that coupon code, lunch was taken care of without me having to move. At least, by the next morning, I would finally be out of that house.

Despite what people might think, I preferred being left alone by my family. The alternative wasn’t really appealing to me. My name is Timothy, though I prefer to be called Tim. Most people, however, especially members of my family and all their friends, simply called me “Tiny”.

Ever since my sister, Ava, walked in on me while I was… doing what all healthy boys in full-blown puberty do the most, things had changed. Back then, I was barely five feet tall and maybe ninety-five pounds soaking wet. I didn’t even notice her barging into my room until she screamed upon seeing me and ran back out into the hallway. And, of course, when she explained the reason for her outburst to the rest of the quickly assembling family, she had to comment on how glad she was that the thing was so small it was completely covered by my fist, so she didn’t have to actually see it.

You know how people say, “We’ll laugh about it tomorrow”? Well, my family didn’t want to wait a full day and started making jokes about it as soon as we sat down for dinner. That evening, my new nickname “Tiny Tim” was born, and they thought it was hilarious. Back then, this hit me hard. I was insecure enough without having people throw jokes about my dick size at me, but my family saw it as harmless ribbing and simply ignored my desperate pleas to stop calling me that damned name.

My fourteenth birthday was still pretty normal. I had friends over, got gifts, and Mom even baked a cake. I did suffer from the nickname, but other than that, they clearly cared about me.

Something I only understood much later was that my brother, Logan, had always been quite good at getting what he wanted while making his behavior look completely innocent and his demands absolutely reasonable. He was always good-looking, charming, and outgoing. That caused people to let their guard down and open up to him, so he easily learned what they liked and how they responded to things. Everyone would tell you how good of a friend Logan was, even though I never saw or heard about him actually doing anything for anyone but himself.

Until then, he never chose me as a target for his games, though I did already suffer the indirect consequences as our parents clearly favored him over me. Whenever decisions had to be made, they chose what he asked for because he knew how to make them think it was the reasonable choice. Consequently, whenever we got into an argument, they took his side without even questioning what caused it, because he was always perceived as the reasonable oldest child while I was seen as the jealous kid. The longer this went unnoticed, the more his wants outweighed my needs without them even realizing it.

During the half year leading up to Logan’s sixteenth birthday, however, something in his treatment of me changed. Under his subtle influence, the penis jokes were slowly taken up a notch, continuously pushing the boundaries of how far they could go before I lost my temper. Meanwhile, his jokes, particularly when nobody else was around to hear them, had taken on a malicious tone. He also spent a lot more time with our parents, especially Mom.

After his birthday, he suddenly accompanied them when they went out with Mom’s brother John, his Wife, Danielle, and our Cousin Maggie, who was Logan’s age. I also started catching him in whispered discussions with Ava that stopped when they noticed me being around. It was then I also started noticing him looking at me in a different way, especially when I was spending time with Ava or Mom (which, by that time, I was already trying to keep to a minimum. Simply to avoid hearing them address me as “Tiny Tim” again). Even when I needed some help with homework, he would show up and make sure I wouldn’t get too much of their attention.

My way of dealing with the alienation and sadness was to stuff myself with sweets and junk food. I put on more weight than the growth spurts could compensate for and thereby provided even more ammunition to the family criticizing my body. I spent more and more time in my room, playing around with my computer and reading fantasy novels. But it was then I discovered my real talent for programming, and had, after a few months of self-study, reached the point where I could do small jobs I found on Craigslist and Fiverr, designing and creating websites.

What I hadn’t realized at that time was that I had effectively turned into the fat geek in a family of athletic achievers. And athletic achievements were all they cared about.

I once saw a rerun of that old 80s show “Married with Children”. Al Bundy reminisced about that one time in High School when he scored four touchdowns in a single game. That is basically the best way to describe my Father, Aaron. For him, talent in sports is what gets you a scholarship for college and dates with cheerleaders. With that, he was talking about my mother, Claire, who was captain of the cheer squad at his High School.

Ava had, in every aspect, inherited our mother’s beauty and was at fifteen already almost a carbon copy of her. Roughly 5’3’’ at about 125 pounds, with long golden blond hair and green-blue eyes. The only real difference between the two, apart from Ava’s more youthful skin and Mom’s few extra pounds that three back-to-back pregnancies bestow upon a woman, were their cup sizes. If Ava had a B-Cup, Mom must have had a D-Cup. Logan and I were more like our father, though. We had his dark-brown hair and brown eyes, and our height would hopefully also top out at his 5’11’’, though at that time I was more around 5’3’’.

So, while Logan and Ava followed in our parents’ footsteps, I was the fat geek my father couldn’t relate to. And, no, that wasn’t just my impression. He straight up told me one day how he still remembered all the beatings he handed out to the nerds in his schooldays, and simply couldn’t fathom “how my own son could turn out to be one of those losers”.

When I started my first year at the same high school Ava and Logan went to, my personal hell was complete. My loving siblings had made their way to the top of the popular crowd. Logan, becoming the star football player our father once was, and Ava, achieving the position of captain of the JV-cheerleaders our mother once held. Following our father’s example, they despised me for soiling their image, simply by being their fat geeky brother.

Ava wasted no time telling all of her friends why they only called me “Tiny Tim”, and, of course, all of her friends took a liking to that genius choice of a nickname. All the while Logan made sure all of his friends knew how much he wanted me nowhere near them.

Now, when the cheerleaders make fun of someone, it doesn’t take long for the jocks to join as well, simply to try and please the hot girls. Especially since Logan, the head jock, even encouraged them. I was a free-for-all within a few mere days. It started out small; being tripped and pushed around in the hallways and constantly called names. Then the thefts started when I went into the locker room after gym classes to find my wallet and/or phone missing. And then it evolved into full-blown beatings.

Two guys caught me on my way home and wanted to teach me a lasting lesson, simply because I apparently had looked at a girl they were interested in. They came up from behind me and had me knocked to the ground before I even knew they were coming. As one of them gave me a final kick in the ribs, I noticed Logan’s car standing right next to us, with Logan in it. He was watching the whole thing, smiling. I fucking hated the bastard.

Needless to say, my pool of friends was rapidly diminishing since the whole thing turned physical. After all, nobody wanted to become a target by association. My parents noticed the bruises, of course, and Mom was alarmed for a while. She wanted to raise hell at school, but Aaron and Logan were both convinced I needed to simply learn to stand up for myself. They assured her, that’s just how boys are and something they needed to go through to “grow a pair”.

When I turned fifteen, I got a single present from my parents. Logan only cared about the occasion when Mom brought out the store-bought cake. The only thing I got from Dad was a comment about me not needing any more calories. Ava, however, suddenly handed me a big, wrapped box, wishing me a happy birthday with a big smile on her face. By that time, I had already noticed how Ava was trying to please Logan and Dad, so being presented with a gift from her seemed like we might be going back to how it was before. It made me extremely happy. That is until I unwrapped her present to find myself holding a penis pump.

I heard Mom comment a loud “Oh! No, you didn’t!”, but she was laughing instead of scolding. Logan and Aaron thought it was absolutely hilarious. I was absolutely speechless. I got up from the table and walked to my room, trying to keep it together, but failed miserably. I didn’t know why they wouldn’t realize how much all of this hurt me. About two hours later, Mom - Claire - came to my room and handed me her own present for me that I had left behind. I took it out of her hand without saying a word, carried it over to the trash can, and dropped it in there without even unwrapping it.

“What did you do that for!?” Claire asked. Her expression looked confused, but her voice sounded like she was offended by me throwing her present away.

“Thanks,” I answered in a tired voice. “But I don’t think I need any more ‘gifts’ from you all.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby. It was a joke. No need to mope around.”

And then she left the room before I even had a chance to try and explain how this was anything but a joke for me. I finally learned what this was all about when Ava’s sixteenth birthday came around, not quite three weeks after my own. Just like Logan, when he turned sixteen, Ava got a nice bunch of presents, including her own little car. I kept to myself, hidden in my room which was slowly but surely voiding itself of personal items, when Claire knocked on my door.

“What are you sitting around in your room for? Have you even congratulated your sister yet!?”

“Ava asked… told me, really, to stay out of the way while her friends are over. So, no, I haven’t.”

“No present either, I take it?” The disapproval was thick in her voice.

“Why would I get her a present after the crap she got me!?”

“OH MY GOD! Are you still hung up on that!? It was a joke, Tiny! Learn to live with it. If you ever find yourself a girlfriend, she WILL make a comment about your small size too, you know? And what then? Are you going to come running home, crying? You might find a woman willing to put up with a small pecker, but if it comes attached to a crybaby, even those women won’t want you.”

I could only stare at her incredulously. It was at that exact moment I realized that I would never be able to rely on her for anything again, as long as my siblings were involved. She sighed before she continued.

“Ava is going to drive us to Johnny’s. Maggie has a present for her, and we’ll take the opportunity to see them again. You stay here! And when we’re back, I expect you, young man, to have AT LEAST a card ready for your sister!”

And just like that, she was gone. I couldn’t help but wonder about that statement. I liked my Uncle John, he and his Wife never joined in on the torment I received from my direct family, though they did seem to be amused by it at times. Especially his daughter, my cousin Maggie, never got the difference between some harmless ribbing and tasteless insults. But what irritated me was Claire’s comment about the opportunity to see them again. The family has always been quite close with the other relatives, and especially John. He was Claire's brother, they lived close by, and they met at least twice every week.

I did NOT want another discussion with my caring ‘Mother’, so I quickly went onto Amazon, bought Ava a $25 gift card, and printed it out. I was sure that, if I merely dropped it on her pillow or something, it would spark another discussion as she probably would just claim to never having received it so Claire would make me buy her a second one. So, I’d walk over to John’s house, hand Ava the damn gift in front of witnesses, and leave again.

The walk took me maybe twenty minutes, and the first thing I noticed when I arrived was the drawn-shut curtains. Thinking they might be watching a movie or something, I made my way around the house to the backdoor, leading into their kitchen. And as soon as I stepped through that door, I heard it all. The moaning. The sound of flesh slapping. Even the wet squishy noises. When I quietly and carefully walked towards the passthrough to the living room, the whole scene unfolded as it came into view.

I saw Ava on all fours, being fucked doggy style by Aaron. Our own father! Ava’s face was buried in our cousin Maggie’s crotch, who was lying beneath her on her back in a sixty-nine position. Maggie seemed to be eagerly alternating between sucking Ava’s clit and licking Aaron's balls.

Right next to them, on the sofa, was Uncle John. He wasn’t alone either. Bouncing on his lap with her back to him, was my mother – his sister – Claire. Both of them blissfully fucking while watching the others in their threesome. Aunt Danielle and Logan were cuddled up in the loveseat, both covered in a thin layer of sweat. I thought they were probably taking a break when I heard Ava’s scream.

“GOD YES, DADDY! FUCK ME! I’M COMING! I LOVE THIS! I’M COMIIIIIING!!!”

What followed was as entrancing as it was disturbing. Ava’s high-pitched scream slowly devolved, like a balloon running out of air, as she clenched her teeth and her head flew back. Aaron kept pumping into her slowly for a while until Ava calmed down and slumped onto Maggie.

I was still unable to fully process what I had just witnessed when Aunt Danielle got up from Logan's lap and walked over to the three people in the middle of the room. She leaned down next to Ava’s head and softly spoke into her ear.

“Ready to have your Daddy pop your last cherry, sweetheart?”

Upon hearing Ava’s moan, Aunt Danielle crawled over to Ava’s rear. Maggie, who was still eagerly sucking on Ava’s clit, slid her hands along Ava’s hips to her ass and pulled her cheeks apart. Without another word, and with Aaron only scooting back so far that the tip of his dick would remain inside his daughter, Danielle started kissing and licking Ava’s little puckered butthole.

Right there, in the middle of the living room floor, Aunt Danielle was rimming her niece’s asshole. Her daughter was sucking on her cousin's clit with loud slurping noises. And, right in between those two mouths, Aaron was fucking his cock into his sixteen-year-old daughter’s sopping wet hole.

When Danielle finally stuck her tongue into Ava’s ass, she moaned again, which seemed to be the cue for the others. Aaron finally pulled his dick completely out of Ava’s pussy, just as Claire lifted herself off John’s pole. She grabbed a small bottle, walked over to her husband, and started slowly lubing him up while watching Aunt Danielle and Maggie continue to work Ava’s holes and smilingly whispered something into her husband’s ear. I couldn’t hear anything she said, but Aaron's sudden moan of anticipation spoke volumes. She’s been egging him on to fuck their daughter!

When she felt like she had done a sufficient job in lubing him up, she tapped Danielle’s shoulder, who leaned back to make room for Claire to add more lube directly to Ava’s butt. Then, Claire, still holding onto Aaron’s hard cock, lined it up with their daughter’s slightly opened brown hole, slid her other hand onto his ass, and pushed it forward. Like this, guided by his wife, he slowly penetrated their daughter’s asshole with closed eyes and a loud groan.

As he did that, Danielle slid one of her hands over Ava’s butt cheeks towards her crotch and then stuck two fingers into her now vacant pussy. Ava now had a dick in her ass, fingers in her pussy, and a mouth on her clit. Though, they were not in sync. While Aaron’s movement was gentle and careful, and he didn’t seem to want to push her limits too far too quickly, Danielle went absolutely wild on Ava’s pussy, pumping and turning her fingers with vigor.

“Yes, sweetheart! Come for us, you little slut!” Danielle said loudly, not skipping a beat in stimulating Ava. “Come from feeling your Daddy in your tight little ass!”.

At first, the only sounds coming from Ava were admittedly cute little squeaking noises. But after Aaron got maybe half a dozen strokes into her ass, those little noises rapidly grew louder before she exploded in a deafening scream. Her body was violently shaking for a few moments before she finally collapsed on top of Maggie, who quickly extracted herself from that position and moved over to Uncle John. As Ava was lying there, her body periodically spasming and a long drawn-out moan escaping her mouth, Danielle was stroking her hair, Claire was stroking her back, and Aaron was whispering something while kissing her forehead and caressing her cheek with a loving smile on his face. But then my attention was drawn back to John, as he moaned himself. While I was watching my immediate family care for Ava, Maggie had gone down on her knees in front of her own father and was now swallowing the seed he shot into her mouth.

I had the foresight to try and stay hidden throughout the whole ordeal, though I don’t think any of them would have even noticed a SWAT Team busting into the room at that moment. They were all totally engrossed in their act.

No, I did not suddenly notice how hard I was. Because I wasn’t. And I certainly didn’t run home to masturbate. I was shocked. While I absolutely knew that the women in my family were objectively attractive, I never fantasized about any of them, and what I just saw didn’t change that. Up until that very point, I somehow knew they had sex. But certainly not with each other! For me, the women in my family were A-sexual entities filled with marshmallows. No, what I saw actually made me sad. I turned and left the house, as quietly as I entered it, through the back door. My mind was in stunned shock as I walked back home.

I sat in front of my computer but never turned it on. After I arrived, my mind was no longer stunned, it was racing. So many clues I missed… or couldn’t catch. Who would expect or even consider the possibility of something like that? But I now knew why they were so eager to drive me away for so long. Claire had Aaron. Ava had Logan. I was convinced I was the odd one out. I would only get in their way. I didn’t even realize at the time that Maggie didn’t have a brother herself, so if we were to combine the two families as I had just seen, it could have all fit together.

For a while, I felt incredibly betrayed for not being included. Why wouldn’t they even tell me? But then I remembered that I was still nothing but a fat geek for them. A fat and unattractive geek with a small dick. They simply didn’t want me. And while it hurt, I couldn’t exactly demand them to be attracted to me. But it wasn’t sex I was missing in this family. I was envious of them for something else.

When I saw Aunt Danielle stroking Ava’s hair, while Claire was stroking her back, it looked so… loving. And caring. And before that, it was obvious the four of them worked together to make this an unforgettable experience of pure pleasure for Ava. Meanwhile, I hadn’t received so much as a hug, or even just a damn back rub from any of these assholes since I was twelve! My parents were embarrassed to have me as a son. Ava ridiculed me in front of her friends. Logan wouldn’t help me if I was dying. And the envy vanished. Instead, I fucking hated them all. If they didn’t want me, I could do just as well without them.

True to my new resolve, I withdrew myself even further from the family over the next few weeks. While Claire seemed to notice and made at least some half-assed effort to draw me out again over Christmas, she still didn’t see the need to at least stop calling me “Tiny”, causing me to lash out until she left me alone. I also didn’t look at the one gift addressed to me, probably from Claire again. Conversations were one-sided, with me never initiating them and only answering the absolutely necessary minimum. I did my chores, but that was as far as I was willing to contribute to their household.

By the time New Year’s came around, and the parents were hosting a party for their friends and a few colleagues, Claire seemed to have fulfilled her quota of parental duty. It was then that Claire and Aaron started laughingly introducing me as “the smallest in the family” to their guests. Of course, at first, most of them assumed it was about me being the youngest of their children. By the time the countdown was over and most of the champagne was consumed, however, even these total strangers suddenly addressed me as “Tiny Tim” while snickering, thinking the whole thing was just as funny as my family had always claimed.

I had thought about asking to move to my grandparents. Their home was a three-hour drive away, which would have been perfect. They lived far enough away to ensure I wouldn’t run into anyone from my current school, but close enough so the parents wouldn’t have many reasons to complain. The problem was that, ever since Grandpa retired, they spent more time traveling than anything else. They were barely around anymore, and what little contact I had with them was through phone conversations, so I didn’t think they’d be eager to take in a new teenager that would only tie them down again.

In mid-January came the event that would finally put me on a path to make things a little better for me.

Someone, with a little help from Ava, figured out how to get into my school locker, and used it to play another ‘prank’ on me. After they had covered everything in my locker in wet coffee grounds on a Friday afternoon, the result I discovered the following Monday morning included quite a few destroyed textbooks that needed to be replaced. As usual, the school wouldn’t help in any way, not even when it came to cleaning up the locker. When I went to the parents and showed them the letter from school, accompanied by a price list for the books, Aaron wouldn’t have any of it.

“For fuck’s sake, Tiny! Learn to stand up for yourself! You already lost two phones over the last month, and now we need to replace textbooks!? Did you see what they cost!?”

I was numb. I didn’t expect anything from them anymore, but he still managed to surprise me. Did he honestly believe that I lost those phones? He knew full well they got stolen! And how the fuck was I supposed to stand up for myself when they never came at me alone. And with the full support of my siblings, no less!

“This can’t go on like this,” he continued. “Maybe it’s time to start taking responsibility and find yourself a job. Then you can take care of those things either by learning to defend yourself or by paying the price for chickening out.”

I snatched the price list out of his hand and walked back to my room. I had finished several programming jobs by now and could indeed pay for the textbooks myself. Though, if this kept up, I still needed a regular job with a more regular income. Then again, I was still only fifteen and didn’t think a paper route would pay enough to replace my phone every month. Thinking about it further, however, why did I even bother replacing them? Because of the bullying in school, I barely had any friends left. And I refused to invite any of them into this house to witness what was happening here.

So, the next day, I went to a diner on my way home from school that had a “Help Wanted” sign at the counter, and got myself a job waiting tables. Minimum wage ($7.25/hour) for fifteen hours per week would not make me rich. I calculated that, if I kept it up without spending any of my salary, I could buy myself a cheap used car in about 64 weeks. Isn’t that a motivating thought? Well, it didn’t come to that. I was fired after a single week because of me “causing disturbances”.

Since the diner was so close to school, quite a few of my fellow pupils stopped by regularly. I couldn’t work a single shift without someone recognizing me and shouting “Tiny Tim”. Not even just other kids, there were even a few vaguely familiar adults among them I thought were friends with the parents. People throwing dick-jokes at me, much to the other guests’ displeasure, or intentionally tripping me while I was carrying someone’s order, much to the diner’s owner’s displeasure. He recognized that I didn’t actively cause any of these incidents, but I was still the cause of them. Simply letting me go was the easiest way to deal with the disturbances in his diner, so that’s what he did.

I knew what happened would surely repeat itself with any student job I could get. Even if I got something further away, it would happen less frequently, but it would still happen. I needed an actual job, but for those I needed a reference since I was still fifteen. Asking my direct family was useless. So, I decided to give Uncle John a call. He was a corporate consultant, so he had a shit-ton of contacts. I figured he might know someone.

“Well, what are you good at?” he asked after I explained my dilemma to him.

“I already made some money programming and designing stuff over Craigslist. I’m pretty good at that.”

“Really? That’s new. Anything you’d care to share?”

I sent him the links to the sites I created, as well as the names of my Apps that were already available in Google Play and the App Store. He called me back the next day, with the offer that would finally start the new chapter in my life.

An old friend of his ran a security firm and needed, at the very least, a completely overhauled website. He’d vouch for me to overcome the age problem, but I’d have to convince them of my capabilities myself. The appointment was made for the following Friday, and I compiled a portfolio outlining all the noteworthy characteristics of my previous projects, as well as my skill set.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to put in so much effort. John’s friend, Bill Carter, was indeed skeptical at first because of my age. That was, however, already solved by Uncle John simply asking him to try me out as a favor. And since he, as he phrased it, “doesn’t know shit about this computer stuff”, I agreed to simply start working on their new site. When I had something presentable, he would send it around for people to check it out.

I worked on it the entire following week, and was able to create a nice and expandable CMS that would allow them to edit the pages themselves, and included all the needed APIs for their Accounting and Staff-Apps to exchange data over it. I sent him the login data on a Sunday evening, and he called me to discuss salary two days later. I offered him thirty dollars per hour with flexible hours. He offered me to go fuck myself, but he was laughing while saying it. In return, I asked him to check his accounting for the rate he paid the agency that made his previous system, and how long it took them to deliver a finished product.

To my surprise, that actually worked! We settled on a lump sum payment of $4,500 for the work already done, and an hourly rate of thirty-five dollars for all future work. All of that as a freelancer, for now, since the hours I was allowed to work as an employee would be strictly limited and regulated by labor law until I turned sixteen. My first job would be to rework the Apps his men used to upload photos and surveillance videos, as well as log their hours. I was fully prepared to get stuck with minimum wage again since I was ‘just a minor’. Gladly, Bill didn’t care about that in the least. As long as the work was done right, I would be paid like any other employee who did their job.

The next day, Claire accompanied me to the bank to open an account. As we were sitting in that bank, the idiot Teller tried to make her open a custodial account for me, which basically meant that the account would be in my name, but I couldn’t do anything without either Claire’s or Aaron’s signature. She was all for it, but I told her in no uncertain terms that, since I was working for that money, it should be my money. She compromised with a joint account with safeguards for reckless spending. I could live with that. At that point, I was seriously worried about getting money transferred into an account the parents had access to. Sadly, contrary to Bill, the bank did absolutely care about me being ‘just a minor’, so I didn’t have much of a choice.

The single debit card and the login data for the online banking were sent directly to me alone, so the only way for them to check my account balance, or make withdrawals, was to actually walk into the bank and ask for it. My hope was that, since they didn’t know about Bill paying me more than minimum wage, they wouldn’t feel the need to go through that trouble. At least as long as I didn’t give them a reason to. So, no reckless spending for me. Back to feature phones and cheap snacks.

I also had no idea how taxes work for freelancers since I never made enough before to file for them. So, I would save as much as possible until I found that out. I made only two mentionable investments: A small fridge for my room to store my food in, and a nice gaming chair. The fridge didn’t cost nearly as much as I thought it would, and I figured, if I was going to spend a lot of time in front of the computer, I might as well sit comfortably while doing so.

The fridge, though, did not go unnoticed. When I carried it inside, Logan saw me and his eyes grew wide immediately. Last I saw before reaching the stairs was him pulling out his phone. I learned whom he called when Aaron stood in my door as soon as he arrived home.

“Tiny! If you’re going to put a fridge in here, you gotta pay rent. Those things burn energy like a hair dryer running non-stop!” he told me in an annoyed tone.

I didn’t know if this was yet another attempt to piss me off, or if his children were demanding personal fridges of their own now, so he wanted to nip this in the bud. Either way, I looked at him for a while, contemplating my options. Then I took all the bills out of my wallet that were left after my shopping spree, counted them, and handed him seventy-five dollars. I made sure he saw I only had a whopping six dollars left, hoping he wouldn’t think I wasn’t hurting for money.

“That should cover the rest of the month. I’ll set up a money transfer order starting from the 1st. I hope three hundred bucks a month is enough for this room?” I asked him, with my now usual tired voice.

I waited a little for a reply, but he just looked at me confused, so I closed the door in his face. He apparently didn’t expect me to readily pay up without complaining. And certainly not such an amount. However, as far as I was concerned, this interaction had finally officiated our new relationship. I hadn’t felt like part of this ‘Family’ in a while. Now I was officially nothing more than their tenant. Too bad nobody else would rent out a room to a fifteen-year-old kid, regardless of him having an actual taxable income. I’d have been out of that house in a heartbeat.

The next two weeks followed a pretty set pattern: Get up in the morning. Go through the motions while getting slapped around in school. Pick up some groceries or takeout on my way home so I would have something to eat. Go to sleep while trying to ignore the occasional bed-squeaking coming from one (or more) of their bedrooms. Repeat.

That is, until my workload changed.

Apparently, being a programmer and doing things with computers others don’t understand, makes you the default go-to guy when someone’s hardware refuses to comply. So, whenever the printer in accounting didn’t work, I was called over. When someone accidentally hit F11 and put their Pornhub browser window into fullscreen mode, that someone showed up next to me and discretely asked for quick help. Same went for their personal and private devices. I soon made it a habit to come to the office directly after school and stay for at least one or two hours. Normally, I would do all the programming and maintenance from home, so I’d only come in if we had something to discuss. But I could do that just as well while in the building, and this way I could actually look at the stuck printer.

It didn’t take too long for the others in the office to get friendly with that chubby kid that was fixing their stuff. For the first time in more than a year, I had people I could have an actual conversation with, even if they were more small-talk than actual discussions since we had little in common because of the age difference. That helped somewhat. It also didn’t take long for Bill to notice that something was wrong with me and call me into his office.

“Alright, kid. The fuck’s up with the bruises?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“School stuff,” was all I could say to that.

“School stuff. As in ‘you’re part of the wrestling team and just bad at it’? Or ‘the wrestling team is using you for sparring matches without you being a member’?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I did not want to tell my boss, who employed me in a security firm, that I was incapable of defending myself against other kids at school. Even if I was just an IT Guy and not part of his operative staff.

“I’m pretty sure John said he had two nephews. Doesn’t your brother go to the same high school as you?”

“Logan, yes, he does. So does my sister. You could say they’re part of the wrestling team. My family… doesn’t like me very much.”

Bill didn’t say anything for a moment. I also couldn’t see any change in his expression. Did he already know? Or maybe it was just his character. Or he did the job long enough to not find this unusual anymore.

“How long you gonna be here today?” he finally asked.

“Well, I like to stay ‘till five, when the office-dwellers leave, so I’m here if something comes up.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. I’m still only paying you for actual work done, not for sitting around.” I smirked at that “Come back in here at five.”

And that’s what I did. After meeting him in his office, he led me to the company gym. As it turned out, unbeknownst to me, the operative part of his employees met every day for their training sessions after the others left.

“All right everyone, listen up!” he called out to them. “This is Tim. Most of you probably seen him around by now, fixing your shit on company time. He’s gonna join us in the afternoons from now on. Be nice to him, he still has soft bones. Drop him on his head and it’s probably gonna leave a permanent dent.”

Most of them laughed at that, I was still a little confused.

“What is it you train here? Something like Krav Maga or something?” I asked excitedly. To my even greater confusion, most of them laughed even harder at that than after Bill’s joke.

“Listen, Kid,” Bill started in an exhausted tone while pointing a finger at me. “If you want to learn how to throw a killer punch, go boxing. If you want to learn how to use your knees and elbows to strike, learn Muay Thai. If you want to learn how to throw people around, learn Judo. And if you want to learn all of those things, just not even half as good, learn Krav Maga. We don’t do that crap here.”

“But… wasn’t that, like, some army thing everybody learns now?”

“Yeah, once upon a time it was that legendary martial art the IDF teaches,” he explained with much sarcasm in his voice. “But ever since it got popular in Los Angeles, it’s more of a means to slim your waistline using a punching bag. In the end, all popular and widely known martial arts you can learn in schools or dojos are either meant for competitions, against a single opponent and judged by a guy who makes sure everybody abides by the rules, or are simply a collection of made up scenarios you can’t apply to the real world. The drunks at a bar always come with friends as backup, burglars in Texas are most likely carrying, and the desperate ones will use whatever they can to take you down. Martial Art styles will give you some degree of confidence in a real fight, but that’s it.”

“Sooo… what are you training then?”

“Our own little style. Call it MMA if you must put a name to it, but it’s simply a mixture of whatever we all learned works best in the field. What we train in these sessions is meant to teach you how to take an attacker down as quickly and effectively as possible, so by the time their buddies try to help ‘em out by jumping you from behind, you’re already done with ‘em and ready for the next one.”

“Nice!” I commented. This sounded awesome. Bill, however, made quick work of my enthusiasm.

“Now keep in mind, this is going to be very different from what you’ve seen in ‘Cobra Kai’ or some other shitty show. We don’t really concern ourselves with the future health of someone who tries to kill us. If you break his arm and rip his tendons, tough shit for him, but he’ll sure as hell won’t use that arm to pick his knife back up and try again. BUT! We train this for self-defense. So, if you use any of this on someone who’s not ACTIVELY attacking you, it’ll no longer pertain to self-defense. It’ll get you thrown in jail, and we will not bail you out for that. So, we’ll also include some lessons in discipline.”

After his little speech that left me in a mixture of excitement and downright fear, he introduced me to the other participants and assigned me a partner. From then on, for ninety minutes per session, five days a week, I learned how to defend myself. On three days a week, we spent an additional hour lifting weights.

I’m not going to lie, it was fucking hard! Even though the training started out easy, teaching me how to stand properly and then how to apply and get out of choke- and handholds, I was in constant muscle pain for the first two weeks. It felt like the lactic acid buildup in my muscles would never go away. By the time we moved on to A LOT of grappling, and finally all the way to ‘disabling’ armed or unarmed attackers, I had thankfully gotten used to the daily exercises.

Granted, there weren’t that many people coming after me with knives and guns in school, and there wasn’t much in those training sessions I could reasonably use against untrained bullies without being arrested (“Or worse, expelled!”), but it gave me confidence. I could now look my attackers in the eyes and actually see what they were trying to do, instead of cowering away and being taken by surprise with every single punch. And as long as I could see it, I could defend against it. At least that’s what Bill kept telling me.

My favorite part about the training, however, was Tess. She worked in accounting and claimed to only train with the guys because she wouldn’t have to pay for a gym membership that way. Twenty-eight years old, 5’4’’ tall, and always holding her long raven hair in a ponytail. I thoroughly enjoyed having her as a sparring partner when we had to get handsy because she seemed to enjoy herself with me as well. At least that was the impression I got from the genuine smile she gave me while we were going through the different holds. Despite what I hoped, with me being fifteen and all, I didn’t seriously expect to get anywhere with a woman thirteen years older than me. But I did look forward to each time we met, either during training or in the coffee kitchen, talking.

After roughly nine weeks of daily training, I was ultimately forced to use in school what I had learned in the firm. During break time on an unusually lousy Monday in April, I was on my way to my locker to switch books, when I had to walk past Jack Miller, one of my chief tormentors and best buddies with Logan. He and one of his bully buddies were making the moves on a petite freshman girl with ash-brown hair that I only knew by looks. At least I’m pretty sure they thought they were flirting. The girl’s face and comments showed that she had a distinctly different opinion on that, and would rather be left alone. I hadn’t even decided if I wanted to interfere or not, when Jack noticed me standing there, watching them.

“What you looking at, Tiny Tim?” he mocked me.

I noticed at that moment that Bill was right. Those guys were big and bulky football players, but they were in no way comparable to the men I had been training with for months. I wasn’t even nervous about what he and his friend might try. They must have noticed my attitude and decided that I should receive a reminder of why I once feared them. Jack walked over to me, grabbed my collar with his right hand, and forcefully pushed me into the lockers.

“I asked, what you looking at!?” he snarled.

I placed my left hand on the one holding my collar, and, for the moment, just looked at him and my surroundings. Like usual, there were quite a few people stopping when passing us, but nobody cared to do anything. When I still didn’t answer, he started raising his other arm, pulling back his fist. He took so long, I think he simply didn’t expect me to do anything about it. Or he wanted to enjoy the fear he usually saw in my eyes when they advertised the pain I could expect. But not this time.

Quickly, I grabbed the thumb of the hand holding my shirt and pulled and overturned it outwards. This caused him to first lose his grip, and then follow with his torso in the direction I was bending his hand, exposing the entire left side of his neck to me. As I was bending his hand, I quickly raised my right arm to face level and then slammed my elbow down onto his jaw before he could even think about what was happening. His head violently jerked clockwise before he fell to the ground like someone cut the strings of a puppet.

When his bully-buddy saw that, he moved in on me. He scowled at me with his torso low, ready to charge like I was an opposing player on the football field he wanted to tackle. When I saw that, I took a quick step to the side away from him, so he had to step over Jack and couldn’t run full force at me. As he did, he looked at his feet for just a split second, to make sure he wouldn’t step on Jack, and I used that moment to attack.

I stopped his advance with a quick and light left jab to his face, throwing him off long enough for me to instantly follow up with a strong right hook to his liver. His body basically shut down and he went down on his knees. Then, my left knee found its way into his face. He fell backward on top of Jack and just groaned in pain, not moving much. His nose and mouth were a bloody mess. I reached down, grabbed Jack's arm, and pulled him out from under his friend and onto his left side, like we did at the training session whenever a chokehold was held too long and someone passed out. Then I looked around.

The hallway was filled with gasping faces staring at me, and one of those faces was Logan’s. That fucker looked disappointed at his buddies! My heart was going at roughly three hundred beats per minute, but I needed them to think I was unimpressed and ready for whatever they might try next. I wanted them to think I could take them all if they forced me to. I needed them to know, I was no longer their punching bag. And it worked!

The whole confrontation was over quickly. From the moment Jack raised his fist at me, maybe twenty seconds had passed, and yet, two incapacitated football jocks were lying on the ground. It was also brutal and merciless, way above the level of fights any of my fellow students were used to. But most important of all, it was super effective!

Logan and a few other guys looked at the two lying on the floor, unconscious and incapacitated. They clearly wanted to get to them, but Logan’s eyes kept flicking between the two sleeping beauties and me. They were afraid to come near me! I took a closer look at the people surrounding us and saw more than one of my bullies just standing there unmoving.

I didn’t get to relish in my accomplishment, though, since the next thing I knew, Coach Jenkins grabbed me by the arm and all but threw me across the hallway toward the principal’s office. The entire way he was raising hell about me attacking other students and threatening expulsion. When he dragged me in front of the principal’s desk, we noticed that the freshman girl had been following us the entire time.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her, still angry.

“Ah, Sir, he wasn’t attacking nobody! Jack and his friend wouldn’t leave me alone, even after I told them to. When he…“ she said, now pointing at me, “…just walked by and looked at them. Then Jack suddenly grabbed him, pushed him into the lockers, and tried to punch him. He was just defending himself!”

This quickly turned into a rather uncomfortable situation for the school, and it showed on their faces. Not just Coach Jenkin’s, but also the principal’s as well. Making unwanted advances at a girl, in this day and age?

“That still doesn’t warrant violence! And especially not at THAT level!” the principal commented heatedly. “I’m afraid I will have to call the authorities over this assault, Mr. Brown.”.

“Assault. Is that so,” I said. “Tell me, how many times have I been in here, after one of his assholes used me as a punching bag?” I asked, pointing at Coach Jenkins. “And how many times did ANY of you do shit about that!? I TRIED to get help from you and the teachers, but NONE of you could be bothered to do something. But now that I was FORCED to defend myself, NOW he starts threatening me with expulsion and the police!?”

“We told you before, Mr. Brown, there wasn’t much we could do. They always had witnesses placing them somewhere else.”

“And I told you before that I didn’t beat myself up! There would’ve been other things you could’ve done when the complaints about your valued team members piled up. But you didn’t. And now, when those guys get hurt themselves while trying to assault someone else, the victim gets threatened. I’m sure there will be a few people highly interested in that! First of all, our family lawyer. So, go ahead, call the police. There’s more than enough proof of what’s been going on over the past eight months in my health records. And I’d be surprised if you could point to ANYTHING AT ALL that you did to stop it.”

I tried to keep my voice leveled and steady, though it was hard. This was months of frustration finally breaking loose, and it took everything I had not to lose it completely. Finally, the principal and Coach Jenkins exchanged glances and seemed to wordlessly agree on the needed procedure.

They called the counselor and had her take the girl to a different room. Then the principal had me write down my “version of the events”. When the counselor came back ten minutes later, she was holding a sheet of paper that looked suspiciously like they had given the girl the exact same assignment. The principal quickly went over both statements, though his mood was not improving. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“Damn it… Wait here!” I heard him mumble before he got up and left me alone in the room.

About five minutes into my solitary waiting time, my phone started buzzing and I was elated when I saw what I had just received. This day couldn’t get any better! Craig, one of my last remaining ‘friends’, if I could still call anyone that, had started filming the whole thing as soon as he had noticed that the girl was not too receptive to Jack’s advances. It showed everything! I could now watch myself knock out Jack and his friend, and relive that beautiful moment, as many times as I wanted. But most important of all, if the principal chose to screw me over, I had solid proof of what really happened!

Just to be on the safe side, I quickly created a new YouTube account, made sure the password was not saved on my phone, and uploaded the video to it. This way, it was definitely backed up in a way they could not get to, even if they took my phone from me, but I could easily share it within seconds if needed. Another twenty minutes later, the principal returned and sat back behind his desk. He fixed me with a look, still seeming anything but happy.

“Well, Mr. Brown, I just checked the security tape. It does indeed show that you didn’t initiate the fight but instead reacted to threatening behavior from another student. It still doesn’t…”

“Threatening behavior!?” I interrupted, clearly irritated. “Are you saying the tape didn’t show Jack physically assaulting me when I just stood there? Pushing me into the Lockers? Holding me by the collar while raising his fist? Are you claiming, based on what you saw on the surveillance tape AND what you read in the witness's statement, I didn’t have every reason to fear for my well-being?”

The way the principal’s eyes narrowed told me that I had said the right thing. I had been left alone with my thoughts in this room for long enough to anticipate this. You see, working in a security company has quite a few benefits. One of those was hearing all the stories the guys at the firm told me. They are regularly threatened with legal actions whenever a drunkard they threw out of an event felt humiliated, or a spouse that got caught fucking around on our surveillance cameras felt like they were installed unlawfully. These people would make up the most fantastical tales of misconduct and excessive violence to somehow discredit us. So, as soon as the principal started talking like a cheap lawyer, I knew he would try to spin this any way he could to discredit me.

But I also knew I had the advantage since I was holding all the proof. After two different beatings, I was forced to see a doctor, and in both cases, he noted all the “defensive wounds” I had. Quite telling abrasions, cuts, and bruises I got while trying to shield myself. And, as I just pointed out to the principal, even if the surveillance tape somehow went missing, I still had a witness.

The principal watched me for a few seconds before he took a deep breath and continued.

“What I wanted to say, Mr. Brown, is that I acknowledge you felt the need to defend yourself. Albeit you did so excessively. So, we will not expel you. Instead, you, as well as the other two boys, will receive a three-day suspension. I will notify your parents of what happened today. Please accompany Coach Jenkins here off the school grounds to make sure there aren’t any more incidents today.”

And just as if on cue, Coach Jenkins entered the room and walked me out. I stopped by the door to get one last point across, though.

“You know, it’s interesting how the school suddenly has a surveillance system you could check. Makes one wonder, what happened to your need to call the police over this incident? After all, someone still got assaulted. Don’t tell me the police aren't necessary any longer, now that the victim turned out to be someone other than one of your players?”

“Don’t overdo it, Mr. Brown.” He glared at me. “I might not see the need to call the police on you, but those boys’ parents just might!”

“In that case, let me remind you that we live in the age of smartphones. The whole show is already on YouTube. I suggest you keep that in mind when you talk to their parents to explain exactly what happened,” I deadpanned, and let Coach Jenkins lead me off school grounds.

I couldn’t have given any less of a shit about his threat. I achieved what I wanted to and had the proof that I merely defended myself. That was a good day.

Chapter 2 – Meeting Tess

I was just walking out of the kitchen with my freshly microwaved Burrito when I heard the front door open. It had been three hours since I got suspended, and it was time for Logan and Ava to arrive home. The entire afternoon I was unable to take my mind off the fight, but especially the confrontation with the principal that followed. What I told him was absolutely true. I really did ask the school staff for help, especially when the thefts started, but they never even did so much as hanging anti-bullying posters in the hallways. The fact I now even had to threaten them with a lawyer after I was forced to defend myself, had kept me angry the entire time. So, when Logan and Ava stepped out of the hallway and into the living room, my mood was already pretty dark, which Ava must have noticed. She stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing me. Logan, however, came right at me.

“Great work, asshole! You proud…”

That was as far as he came before I threw my plate against the wall ten feet next to him, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Ava let out a shrill shriek and made a quick beeline to the stairs. Logan looked surprised about my outburst. He didn’t seem to have expected me to do anything but cower before him. But then again, his buddies didn’t expect me to hit back either. He had four inches in height on me, but I still got right in his face, causing him to slowly walk backward as I launched my tirade at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Golden Boy. I’ve fucking had it. Your friends have been beating on me for MONTHS! And you stood right next to them and WATCHED with a SMILE! I’m fucking done taking your shit! You’ve seen it today. You know what I’m capable of now. So, go ahead and piss me off, motherfucker!” That last word I basically spat at him with all the loathing I could express, hinting at what I knew. “See how it works out for you.”

He visibly paled and took a few quick steps away from me. This was obviously not what he thought was going to happen. I wasn’t just seething, I was actually hoping he would try something so I could rip him apart. My fists were balled, my nails digging painfully into my palms, and my body was literally shaking in anger. The amount of pure hate that suddenly exploded inside me scared even myself. But he was there in the school’s hallway. He saw the violence. He knew what could happen if he pushed me over the edge again.

To my great pleasure, he turned and walked away without saying another word. My eyes followed him until Ava entered my field of vision, who was still standing at the bottom of the stairs. I was equally pleased to see the fright on her face before Logan reached her, grabbed her by the arm, and pulled her up the stairs. When they were out of sight, I went back into the kitchen to get something to clean up my mess and moaned about the loss of my afternoon snack.

About two hours later, I heard a knock on my door. When I opened it, I found myself face-to-face with Ava. By now, I had calmed down significantly and just stared at her with a bored expression. She looked at me and opened her mouth to say something, but then seemed like she was taken aback. Her mouth slowly closed again, her eyes started wandering around my room, and a look I couldn’t place crept onto her face. Like she was irritated. Or nervous. Or, maybe, almost like she was concerned. I looked around myself but couldn’t see anything unsettling. Wasn’t much left, to be honest. Over the past year, my room had lost most of its personal touch.

I had my wardrobe, desk with chair, and twin-sized bed. I guess, since they never planned on sharing my bed with me, there was no need to get me a bigger one like they did for their other children. Other than that, there was only my fridge and two shelf boards with my fantasy novels left.

The pictures that previously stood on those shelves had been moved into a drawer when the friends they showed distanced themselves from me. The posters and small rubbish went into the trash when I lost interest in most of my hobbies. The most prominent item in the room was now my desk, which held my computer and all of my paperwork, like the invoices I wrote and the tax crap I couldn’t figure out. It looked more like an office that someone had put a guest bed in. So, not seeing what Ava’s problem could be, I looked back at her and waited for her to gather her thoughts.

“What?” I asked impatiently when she still couldn’t get a hold of herself after a minute.

“I was just… I’m…” she stuttered but stopped again.

“…a bitch. I know, Princess. But do me a favor and stop wasting my time. Some people have stuff to do that doesn’t involve you.”

Now she looked hurt. The bitch looked hurt! After all the rumors she spread, all the badmouthing she subjected me to, all the insults she threw in my face whenever she found an opportunity to, she got hurt by that.

“Don’t call me a bitch, Tiny Tim! Don’t dump your frustration on me. It’s not my fault you can’t attract any girls.”

“Actually, it is. You were the one who started spreading those fucking rumors around school. You were also the one who roped the other fucking cheerleaders into making fun of me as well and started this shit I’m buried in!”

“I didn’t…” For just a second, she looked rattled, but quickly caught herself. “They’re not rumors if they’re true!”

“Sure, Princess, tell yourself that. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off, before my ‘frustrations’ make me do something you’d surely regret.”

And with that, I slammed the door in her face.

Did that bitch seriously believe I still had a small dick!? Yes, back then the thing was barely three inches long. Probably even less if I’m being honest. Turns out, though, as a boy grows up, so does his dick! And the damn thing grows rather rapidly until a boy reaches sixteen years of age. It even keeps growing after he reaches sixteen, if only marginally, until the age of eighteen to twenty. Trust me, I read up on it every time my family had caused my insecurities to be off the charts again. So, I read about it a lot.

Now, I’ll never be a porn star with one of those eight-inch bats between their legs, but my penis should be absolutely adequate for sex, and thick enough to certainly be felt by a woman! After all, I can’t even stick my index finger into my mouth without gagging, which is merely three inches long. So, I figure there should be fun times ahead of me. If only those rumors Ava spread, and the bullying Logan encouraged, hadn’t effectively killed any chance I ever had to test that theory with any female my age.

Apart from that little clash with Golden Boy and the Princess, my suspension was highly uneventful and went largely unnoticed by my older cohabitors. I knew that Aaron and Claire were informed of my fight in school the moment they set foot into the house. And I was willing to bet Logan talked to them about my outburst in the living room, trying to get me punished, but neither one of the parents bothered to make an appearance in my room. That was fine with me… although, despite what I kept telling myself, somewhere in the back of my head, I was still holding up that small sliver of hope that at least one of them would start acting like a parent to me as well, at least for once.

When I became the IT Guy in a security firm, I thought it would be wise to expand my horizons and start looking into IT security. One of the very first things I learned was how to place a hidden tracker on phones. And, yes, I did that with all of their phones, simply to test it out. A quick check revealed why nobody bothered to talk with me about what happened. They were at Uncle John’s house, undoubtedly having more orgies over there like they did regularly since Ava’s sweet sixteen. They had more important things to do than to check in with me. At least Uncle John and Aunt Danielle could fill them in. Those two had seen me quite a few times during the training sessions, whenever they came in to meet up with Bill. Maybe they should have warned Golden Boy of what he had coming.

Although nobody dared lay a hand on me in school anymore, a couple of them did try outside of school a few times over the following months. Luckily, it ended much the same way as the first confrontation. The last attempt happened right after the football season started, and, after word got around exactly why the poor guys would have to sit out the rest of the season, I found myself being actually left alone. The verbal attacks kept coming, but I was long past giving a shit about those. As long as they would stop trying to physically assault me, this was progress.

I showed the guys at work the video of the fight and was complimented for a job well done. They especially appreciated the part where I showed enough self-control to put Jack into the recovery position, though Bill was not too happy about the part where I knee’d the guy in the face. Their opinion mattered more to me than the family’s.

I had used my suspension time to get my learner’s permit. With that, I went to register for the driver's ed course in school as soon as I was allowed back into the building, but ran into a problem. The teacher for that class was Coach Jenkins, and, since I had put a number of his players off the field, he simply refused to get into a car with me. I was stuck without that course. I could hardly ask Aaron or Claire to give me lessons.

I bided my time over the next few months, though I held up my familial obligations. While I liked to claim it was solely to avoid yet another confrontation like on Ava’s birthday, I admit that it was actually my last desperate attempt to make the family acknowledge me.

When Mother’s Day came around in May, I got flowers, wrote a card, and left both on the kitchen table for Claire to find when she woke up in the morning. I found the card crumbled up together with the gift wrapping from her presents in the trash, so I wasn’t surprised when Claire never said anything about it.

Since Logan could suck a dick for all I cared, my next attempt was Aaron’s birthday, which fell on Father’s Day that year. Knowing his obsession with football, I got him a wallet made from actual NFL uniforms worn by famous players. It cost me 280 dollars, but while I saw him use the damn thing, he never thanked me for it.

And in August, when Claire’s birthday came around, I got her a Nest Egg Necklace made of sterling silver from an artist in California, with three “eggs” in the pendant representing her three children. I never learned if it had the desired effect.

While Claire never addressed my gift and I never saw her wear it, she did behave like she was gathering the courage to talk about something over the next few weeks. At dinner on the very next day after her birthday, she kept fixing me with a look before taking a deep breath as if to prepare herself for a long talk. Whenever she did that, everyone was looking at her expectantly since it was so obvious she had something to say. It never came out, though. She just stopped, breathed out again, and took another bite of her food.

She kept throwing me concerned glances every few minutes, though. She also stopped by my bedroom on a few evenings, but the result was just the same as when she tried at the dinner table. When I finally lost my patience one Saturday morning and asked what she wanted in an irritated voice, she, again, simply excused herself and walked away.

She never tried again after that.

I dove into work, mentally kicking myself for getting my hopes up in the first place. Even if the Nest Egg Necklace had worked, what would it have gotten me? I would have learned that I needed to buy their consideration. So, maybe it was even better that it didn’t lead to anything. When the guys at work asked me about my license though, since I’d turn sixteen only a few weeks later, I told them about Coach Jenkins. They, once again, helped me out.

I had just come out of the shower after one of our training sessions, when Bill walked into the dressing room and handed me a set of car keys, saying “I’ll wait for you in the parking lot.”, before leaving without waiting for an answer.

He took me for an hour-long drive around the parking lot, patiently explaining all the buttons and levers in the car, and giving me pointers on how to do what. Then, each day after the training, he would walk into the dressing room and hand a set of keys to whoever was still in there with me. That person would eagerly give me another hour-long lesson in driving. Once I had the required hours accumulated, Bill called me into the office as soon as I arrived.

“The two of us are doing something else today,” he proclaimed and tossed me a different set of car keys before leading me to one of the lightly armored SUVs the company used to chauffeur clients around.

When we sat in the car, he gave me directions to a specially prepared lot where he gave me a six-hour specialized driving safety course. We started at daylight and ended late at night. I needed one of those since my driving lessons should either be parent-taught or an approved driver’s ed course. Apparently, he’s certified to give those. Holding the completion certificate in hand, I now had everything I needed to take my final test at the DMV. Everything apart from a parent’s signature on the application. Realizing this, I felt a burst of sadness rush through me.

I know, it’s not the manliest thing to say but, at that moment, I had a hard time keeping those feelings inside. Bill had given me a chance when I desperately needed a job. All the people in the company simply accepted me as one of their own, no questions asked. They helped me get in shape and taught me how to defend myself in school. And now they taught me how to drive like it was the most normal thing to do for someone they barely knew. These people had shown me more favor and more compassion than my own family. Even more than that, actually. Whenever my family actively buried me under another mountain of shit, these people helped me get out of it.

I somehow managed to get Aaron to sign the application at the breakfast table and made an appointment for my final driver’s test. However, I was encouraged to take that test with the car I intended to actually drive with my license, so I put that off for the moment until I got myself a car and had it insured. I still didn’t want to unnecessarily tip the family off, so I looked for something cheap. Suddenly, every single guy at work had an opinion on what was most important in a car. I just wanted something cheap …and maybe fun. So, I decided to get myself a used 2003 Jeep Wrangler Convertible. It had already 186,699 miles on it but cost me only $5,200 dollars and it still looked presentable.

That was only in case the parents asked questions, though. Off the record, I paid another $1,800 to have it detailed, put on a new set of tires, and fitted with a decent stereo (that I can connect with a phone via Bluetooth, instead of having to burn Audio-CDs). Then I had it parked at the company lot and got Aaron to, once again, sign the insurance papers at the breakfast table. I was pretty sure he thought it was for the driver’s ed class in school, but the car’s title and insurance were in my name only and would be paid from my bank account alone. I just needed him to co-sign to get the process started.

The week before my sixteenth birthday, Bill called me into his office once again. He informed me that, for the following Saturday, he had booked a day-long First Aid/CPR/AED course with the Red Cross for me, and they would also check my eyesight. I had no idea why he would do that, but, since he was paying, I decided that it couldn’t hurt and just attended.

The day I turned sixteen went much like my suspension: Unnoticed by the cohabitants. I skipped my afternoon classes to get my license instead. When I left the DMV, I noticed two missed calls from my grandma, so I called her back.

“Hey, Gran. I missed your calls?” I greeted her, and the elation from passing the test found its way into my voice.

“Well! It’s been a while since someone sounded THAT happy to talk to me,” she chuckled.

“Eh, not that I wouldn’t be happy to talk with you! But a little part of it may be related to passing my driver’s test just half an hour ago and finally having my license!”

“I’m so happy for you, Pumpkin! Isn’t that a nice gift! Happy Birthday!” She sounded genuinely pleased.

“Thank you, Granny! I’m glad to be done with that. So, how’re you and Gramps?”

“We’re fine. We’re already packing for Thanksgiving. I almost can’t wait.” She sounded somewhat conspiratorial. Like she was hinting at something she didn’t want to say over the phone.

“Oh? Where’s it going?” I asked, clearly confused. She paused for a moment before she answered.

“Eh? We’re flying in for Thanksgiving. Didn’t you know? Didn’t Claire and Aaron… tell you?” she asked in return, uncertainty thick in her voice.

“Oh, you’re coming here? No, I had no idea. Well… actually I don’t even know where the Thanksgiving dinner is supposed to be this year. Had a lot on my plate and Thanksgiving just… wasn’t on my mind.”

“Oh,” she said in surprise. “They… they didn’t tell you anything? Well… But, we’ll see you when we arrive?”

“Sure, Granny. I still live there, after all, so it’s gonna be hard to avoid each other. See you then.”

After the call, I made my way to the firm. The people at work had other ideas than my family, though. When I arrived at the office, Bill called me in and I finally learned why he had sent me to that course with the Red Cross. He presented me with an actual employment contract! It came with a fixed salary for a twenty-eight-hour week and even included health insurance. The salary was actually high enough so I could drop all my side projects! The health insurance was only included on a condition, though: I had to accompany some of the guys to actual jobs. That certainly wasn’t a problem for me, so I happily accepted.

By five p.m., Tess showed up in what was now my own little corner office. Right next to the server in the basement. One of the guys had even put a little painters-tape on the door and wrote “IT-Department” with permanent marker on it, even including the quotation marks as a little joke.

“I hear you’re a full-fledged member of the working force now,” she commented with a little smile as she sat on my desk.

“Yeah. I had completely forgotten why I was here as a freelancer until now. And I still never made the connection when the Boss sent me to that first aid course. Took me a little by surprise.”

“Well, you know, as a proper employee in this firm, you’ll need the proper appearance to go with. What if you run into a client? Or go out on a job with the other boys? You’d either have to go shopping or seriously step up that savant’s look you’re rocking right now.”

“Makes sense. Problem is, I kinda lack… what’s it called… ‘fashion sense’. How would…”

“Oh, I can help with that!” she interrupted me with sparkling eyes. Apparently, that was just what she wanted to hear. “No Sparring today. Let’s go shopping!”

She grabbed my arm and basically dragged me out of the building. For some reason, everyone we walked past gave me a slightly unsettling smile. Tess took me to what she called a ‘haberdasher’. As it turned out, I needed everything! After spending roughly twelve hours each week in the gym for nine full months, while simultaneously radically reducing my junk food intake, I had successfully shed forty pounds of fat off my body and started to fill out quite nicely with muscles instead. At 5’10’’, and 196 pounds, I wasn’t exactly small anymore either. I wasn’t a big fan of starvation, so my torso would never get even close to that desirable V-shape, though I did get broad shoulders and was even slowly developing abs. Painstakingly slowly, that is.

I didn’t have anyone to impress, though, so I had stopped caring about my appearance quite a while ago. As long as my clothes covered what needed to be covered, I was content with them. So, I only got new stuff when the old stuff fell apart. I decided then and there to simply let Tess take the reins and did as I was told.

I got a bunch of T-shirts, button-up shirts, a black M-65 jacket, cargo pants, dress pants, two of those belts without holes, underwear without holes, socks without holes, shoes that didn’t talk, and Tess made me model everything for her. Even the underwear, for some reason. Then came the grooming products and toiletries. Hair Gel, specific deodorants and aftershaves, and she even insisted on a pricey cologne that I could only describe as a musky cedarwood smell, even though I had no idea what cedarwood was supposed to smell like.

In the end, I even had to get a suit. I let Tess choose a plain black, slim-fit three-piece, with a collection of gray ties, and then we had them adjust it for me. It almost looked like it was tailored for me, although Bill would later laugh me out of the conference room the first time he saw it, telling me to lose the vest and tie unless I wanted to start a career as a banker and get strangled.

When the clerk asked me the famous “Left or Right” question, I had absolutely no clue what he was asking, and the confusion showed on my face. When Tess answered him by shouting “LEFT!” through the curtain, the confusion was showing on the clerk’s face, and he fixed me with a calculating look before the exact same small smirk spread across his face I had seen on the guys in the firm. He finally explained the meaning to me, and, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how the hell Tess knew where I let my balls hang when I didn’t even know myself.

By the time we were done, my bank account was another $2,800 lighter. I was glad this wasn’t something I had to do every month. Luckily, I could afford it all.

I basically had no friends left to go out with, abandoned all hobbies that could require money, and I also never had a girlfriend I could spend on. Basically, I spent my entire time either in school or working, so I really didn’t have time for anything else even if I had friends to go out with. I worked roughly twenty-six hours a week on the firm’s projects alone. At thirty-five dollars an hour, that makes roughly $3,600 a month. Tess had helped me figure out my taxes in January, and I now knew that I netted about $2,800 a month after taxes. My only expenses were the three hundred dollars per month I paid Aaron in rent, another two hundred dollars per month I spent for food, and $480 per month I was going to pay in car insurance from then on (which I got cheap thanks to the safety course from Bill!).

So, from my regular income alone, I had made about $1,800 a month that simply went to my bank account and sat there mostly unused. But in addition to that, I still maintained my old projects from home. I had a nice little revenue stream from my Apps, in addition to the side-projects I had picked up from Craigslist and Fiverr.

That was possible because I got lucky by ignoring European data protection laws. I had learned through Bill that a friend of his, who worked security in Germany, needed an app for his bouncers to check vaccination statuses. So, I pulled the specifications for the EU-Vaccination-Certificates, created an app, and published it. About two months later, the EU required all clubs, bars, discos, and restaurants to only allow people with booster shots to enter their establishments, but their own official App couldn’t differentiate between a vaccination and a booster shot. Mine could, because I didn’t hide that information from the bouncers like the official App did, and soon my app was used all across Europe.

All in all, I made maybe $2,600 per month after taxes, rent, and food. And, at that point, I had been working for the firm for ten months without having to pay insurance, so my bank account was nicely filled even after I bought the car.

Tess made me wear the suit when we left the store and loaded the bags into my Jeep. Then she announced there was only one thing left to do and proceeded to drag me to a barber shop for a haircut. I got, what they called, a ‘Long Crew Cut’. A style basically every guy in the Firm seemed to prefer, but then they put a little gel to style what was left of my hair. Cut, styled, and dressed, Tess and the woman who cut my hair took an appraising look at me. They gave each other approving nods, and then we finally left. But as soon as we were in the car, Tess startled me.

“So, now that we finally got you presentable, you have to take me out for a drink as a thanks for the hard work I put in.”

I didn’t rightly know how to respond to that. It was almost eight p.m. by then and I’d have loved to take her out, but I just turned sixteen and it was a Thursday, a school night. It would be hard for me to get into a bar. Tess didn’t seem to believe so and directed me to a little club she apparently visited on a regular basis.

We got a table and ordered our drinks. We sipped them as we talked, and I tried to not appear too hopeful or desperate. But the way her tight business attire framed her body was quite distracting. I mentally scolded myself whenever my eyes got stuck on her breasts and wondered just how much of a pervert I would have been had I been drinking something more fun than a diet coke. After a while, she asked me to dance, and with that, I got visibly nervous. Like, a lot! I had no fucking clue how to fucking dance! Tess took one look at my demeanor and chuckled. I immediately thought this date was over, but then she just grabbed me by the hand.

“So you’re one of those guys who don’t dance. Too bad, I demand entertainment!” she announced and pulled me onto the dance floor.

I looked around, trying to figure out how to move and basically copying whatever I saw other guys doing. Within seconds, though, I was simply captivated by Tess and the way she looked at me with that big smile on her face. I had absolutely no idea why, but she seemed to genuinely enjoy being there with me. I quickly forgot about the others around us and just moved with her, until she turned around and started to rub her butt into my groin while her hand was moving behind my head. Then she leaned her head back and pulled mine down, so she could whisper into my ear.

“You remember how I told you I’m from Virginia?”

I nodded my head, yes.

“You turned sixteen today. That means back home…” she paused, getting even closer, her lips momentarily brushing my neck and her hot breath in my ear “…you’re legal now.”

My cock was somewhat stiffening since I started to relax, but now it got rock hard in record time. Before I could react in any other way, Tess had pressed her butt into it with determination. To my immense surprise, she suddenly turned around and looked at me with big sparkling eyes. Slowly, a big grin spread across her face. She put her arms around my neck, pressed her breasts against my chest, and brought her face close to mine with a sultry look.

“Baby, is that thing as hard as it feels? Is it for me?” she whispered directly into my ear before biting my earlobe.

I involuntarily swallowed and asked, “Want to check and find out?”, surprised at my own boldness.

Tess grabbed my hand again and, like she had done the entire day already, dragged me after her toward the ladies' bathroom. In there, she pushed me into one of the stalls by pressing her whole body into me, while giving me the most passionate of kisses I could imagine. Her tongue explored my mouth before wrapping itself around my own. All the while stroking my dick through my new pants. As fast as it started, it stopped. Suddenly, she was on her knees in front of me, fiddling with my pants. By now, the outline of my cock was clearly visible. Once she had pulled my pants down, my cock sprang up and hit her in the chin. I was so fucking hard, but also so fucking nervous, I thought I would pass out any moment.

Seeing the pole of hard meat pointing at her, her eyes glimmered with lust while glancing up at me. She tried to wrap her hand around it, but it seemed to be just a tiny bit too thick for her hand to reach all the way around. Something she noted with approval before she started stroking it. Then she leaned forward and let the thing rest on her face for a second, grinning madly while looking into my eyes. Slowly she stuck her tongue out, dragged it over my balls, and then licked the underside of my shaft all the way from the bottom to the tip.

I shivered. This was so much better than my hand! This was so much better than anything I had ever experienced before. Her warm, spongy tongue gliding over the sensitive skin on the underside of my dick caused my entire body to tense up. When it reached my frenulum and she let the tip of her tongue flick over it, I even involuntarily bent forward and quietly gasped as my stomach muscles tensed.

My reaction caused her to chuckle. She liked to see the effect she had on me. I never felt anything comparable to this level of lust and would have been ready to explode the moment my cock hit her face. The thing holding me back at that moment, however, was the almost overwhelming fear of someone coming in and catching us in the act. The fucking stall door was still wide open and blocked by Tess kneeling next to it! A fear Tess herself didn’t seem to share, though, when she wrapped her lips around my tip and started to suck on it.

After I was in pure heaven for half a minute, she did something I did not expect. Without taking my rock-hard member out of her mouth, without even moving her head at all, she took my right hand and placed it on the back of her head, glancing up at me with an expectant look. I couldn’t hold back anymore, I needed that heavenly feeling of her mouth and tongue to come back, so I just pushed her head down on my cock, but she again just remained still with my cock now deeper in her mouth. So, I grabbed her ponytail and pulled her head back again. Realizing she wouldn’t do it herself and wanted me to do it for her, I fucked her mouth. A few times even sending my dick just past her uvula without intending to. I simply didn’t have enough control over my body anymore.

Luckily, Tess didn’t seem to mind it that much. In fact, the first time it happened, I was so overwhelmed by the sudden extra stimulation, I momentarily forgot to pull her head back. Instead of complaining or moving on her own again, she simply stuck her tongue out like she was trying to reach my balls. I just kept going and, an embarrassingly short minute later, her eyes went wide as my cum flooded into her mouth. She loudly swallowed most of it while moaning her appreciation.

I had never imagined just how overwhelmingly sexy it would really be to see a woman swallow my cum while moaning in approval. It felt like she had just ultimately accepted everything about me, and nothing about me could disgust or repulse her. I immediately knew that I had no reason to be ashamed of my lust when I was with this woman. And, even more importantly, I immediately knew that she would not reject me like my family had. So, when she thought I was done, I really wasn’t. The whole ordeal was just so stimulating that I wouldn’t grow soft. Much to Tess’ pleasure, because she also wanted more.

“I need you to fuck me! Now!” she said, finally closing and locking the damn stall door.

She pulled her skirt up to her hips, leaned forward against the door with one hand, and pulled her panties to the side with the other, spreading her cheeks and labia in the process and thereby giving me a perfect view of where exactly I wanted to go.

I didn’t waste a second. Not having any experience, and being unable to control myself any longer, I just grabbed her by her hips and rammed my entire length into her wet pussy in one quick thrust. Just as I felt the tip of my dick pass through what felt like an extra tightness inside her channel, Tess let out a mixture of a scream and a moan.

“Fuck MEEEE! YES! Stretch me out! Take me HARD, Baby!”

Since I just came in her mouth, I could now last longer. Encouraged by her loud moaning, I just kept doing hard strokes. Pulling my dick halfway out of her, then hardly ramming it back in. She leaned back into me and I wanted to explore her body while fucking her, although I did notice that, since she leaned back, I couldn’t reach that wonderfully tight part inside her anymore. I reached around her with my left arm to grab her right breast, while my right hand reached down to rub the skin above her clitoris in a circular motion. After just a few short minutes, I felt her spasm on my cock, and she leaned forward again to hold on to the door.

Like a piston, I went back to hard strokes, as more and more of her juices flowed out of her. My thighs and balls were now drenched in her fluids, she started to lose her hold on the door and slid ever so slightly down with every stroke I gave her. This was even better than the blowjob! The way her walls wrapped around me, stimulating my entire lengths all at once, had me almost abandon all reason and forget about where we were. The only thing that existed for me at that moment was the pleasure of being buried inside this wonderful woman.

Consequently, I felt my balls tighten very soon. I knew I had to warn her, but she could barely speak.

“Yes… come… safe…”

So that’s what I did, recklessly abandoning all precautions I was taught about. She had slid down the door so far, the angle was perfect again. As my own orgasm came crashing onto me, I forced as much of my cock into her as I could, finally penetrating her innermost parts once more, and pumped her quivering womb full of my seed, sending Tess over the edge of a final and powerful orgasm. Once I was able to open my eyes, I pulled out and let go of her. Tess just slumped down onto the floor, catching her breath while bathing in the aftermath of her orgasm, while my cum slowly leaked out of her.

“Jeezus,” I thought, “I must have poured a gallon into her!”

After another minute, we both had mostly recovered and were standing, albeit on somewhat wobbly legs. Tess gave me another kiss.

“Tim, Baby? We SO have to do this again sometime,” she said, causing me to start laughing.

All the tension in my body was completely gone, and I felt better than I had ever before. Especially better than I had felt in the last three years. I wasn’t too happy about her choice of a pet name, since “Baby” put such an emphasis on me being so much younger than her, but a gorgeous woman calling me by a pet name was simply too good to complain about.

By the time we were both presentable again, it was half past ten at night. We were in that bathroom for almost twenty minutes. Thank God that club had so few customers, or we would certainly have had an audience. As we made our way out of the bathroom, I caught the looks of some of the patrons and immediately realized that we indeed did have an audience. With every step we took towards the door, my face grew hotter, and, by the time we stepped outside, I was sure It must’ve been glowing red. Tess, however, seemed to be absolutely indifferent about it.

I drove us back to the company parking lot so she could get her own car, and we parted with her giving me yet another toe-curling kiss, pressing her full body hard into mine. Then she spoke.

“How about we finally exchange phone numbers? I was serious when I asked to do this again.”

I eagerly pulled out my phone but, when she looked at it, she started laughing.

“What is that? I haven’t seen one of those in years! Aren’t you our IT Guy? Don’t you need a smartphone?”

“Oh, I have one for work. But, privately, I use feature phones. They were stolen too many times in school.”

“Well, whenever you wear the suit, you should switch to the smartphone. That foldable brick causes some unhealthy-looking bulges.”

“Okay, I have to ask! Today, you chose what clothes I’m to buy, what hairstyle I’m to wear, how I’m supposed to smell, and now you complain about what phone I use. Not that I’m complaining, since I have no idea about any of that, but what’s this all about?”

Before she answered, she closed the distance between us and put her arms around my neck.

“Maybe I’m just trying to make you look as mature as you’re behaving, so less people will accuse me of cradle robbing,” she lightly laughed.

She probably meant that as a joke, but her calling me mature was actually a problem for me. I was behaving maturely because I had to. I had to work a job because Aaron refused to pay for my textbooks. I had to do my own laundry because Claire couldn’t be bothered to. I had to learn how to cook because the family would simply forget about me when grocery shopping, in favor of whatever the other two children wanted to eat. And it didn’t help that I had barely any people my own age left to interact with. I was spending all my leisure time with the adults from work.

Again, I had no illusions this could ever lead to a relationship. I had nothing to offer this woman, never had a romantic relationship before, and, until a few minutes ago, was an insecure virgin. Well, I was still insecure, which is why I kept asking myself what she would even want with me. Especially if she learned about all of my baggage. But, if I were to address that now, there wouldn’t even be the chance for casual sex left, so I just opted to not go into details at that moment.

“I could live with that,” I answered before giving her a light peck.

“In all seriousness, Tim. What we did in there… Please understand, I grew up where sex at sixteen is perfectly fine. And you do have your charms. I’d really like to continue, but we can’t let people know until you’re seventeen and legal in this state as well. Can you promise me that?”

“I can. Though, I’m pretty sure the guys at work know already. Going by the looks they gave me when we left, at least. I don’t think that many people would have a problem with it. But I will not run around and advertise the whole thing.”

We exchanged numbers and got on our way. When I finally made it back to the house, I grabbed the five bags with my new clothes from the jeep, fumbled with my keys, and finally got inside. As I stepped into the living room, I didn’t notice how every seat in there was packed, since I was trying to get my keys out of the door with only one hand.

When I turned my head, I saw the entire family, except the grandparents, huddled on the sofa and Loveseat. All of them regarded me with big eyes. Ava actually looked like she just froze mid-movement, as a spoonful of chocolate ice cream was poised halfway between the bucket in her lap and her mouth.

“Huh,” Meggie remarked, looking at me appraisingly.

“What?” I asked with clear irritation in my voice.

“Wha… wh… how…” came Claire’s and Aaron’s mixed stammer.

“What - THE FUCK - happened to you!?” Ava burst out.

“Told ya!” came Aunt Danielle’s triumphant voice while pointing at Ava before turning her attention to me. “Haircut is new, though. Looks nice!”

“Thanks?” I replied, honestly not sure whether I even cared about her opinion anymore.

I also wasn’t sure whether she actually meant it or was building up to something. It was then I finally understood what was happening. For everyone other than John and Danielle, right up until this moment, I was still “Tiny Tim the fat geek”. This was the very first time they got a good look at me in over a year. I lost fat and replaced it with muscle, filled out my stature and fixed my posture, but normally that was all concealed under baggy and worn-out clothes. Now was the first time I wore anything form-fitting, and it was a suit of all things, adding a little extra effect. That must have been quite a shock for them.

“Bill made me an actual employee today, so, from now on, I might come into contact with clients. That’s why they made me go shopping for new clothes. Mine had holes in them,” I replied and then waited a moment for someone to say something.

That was a preview of Carter Security 1: Tiny Tim. To read the rest purchase the book.

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