Will She Call
I didn't think it likely that she would call.She seemed interested but much too confused and frightened. I promised her many things. My friendship, my shoulder, food, even alcohol and drugs; if she thought they would help.
The decision to run away from your problems can occur at any age in life and I didn't want to see her suffer over it. All I needed to know was that she was alone, in pain and looking for either a way to remove the pain or at least, numb it.
And that was what I did well. I offered solace to the pained. As we damned yanks are fond of saying, "It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.". Word up.
Thankfully, I won the lottery when I was just out of college. I suppose it would have been best if I had gotten a job in my field of training, but why? I bought an apartment house with an amazing penthouse. The rent only added more income and taxes.
So hanging around bus stations and looking for the lost souls was what I did full time. Not every day, mind you. I also had other ways to spend my money and time.
There were many nights I'd go home thinking it was a good day. If I was lucky, maybe I had saved one. But too often it was NOT a good day and the only joy I got was from watching my foolish dog dance around when I got home. I don't know whether it was real love, his hunger or just his need to take a piss.
On those lonely nights, I would think of past souls who had come before. Some found their way to a better life. A place where they had enough money to have few worries. Of course a few chose an easier path. But I could not allow myself to worry about those lost through suicide for fear of losing another arrival.
I suppose the plus of living in such a large city was that there were many to save. Lots of time for me to show my value by being there for them. Lots of ways to show my thanks for my easy lifestyle.
And in such a large city, who else would even notice someone so sad and alone. At least it seemed no one who cared as much as I did.
But finally, the phone rang. It was merely a business transaction. Some order for a specific model that was not part of my catalogue. Oh well. I guess that means a higher price for custom work but also more time for me at the bus station or airport.
I tried not to get too worried about the request. I mean I should never judge what type of child some pedophile wanted. I suppose in his eyes, my waiting until they started puberty probably seemed like a waste. Of course he was the fool. Molesting a child with no ability to differentiate between love and lust with no signs of puberty seemed almost sick. I wanted those who were showing signs. A noticeable rise in the chest or the curve of the arse and hips. Old enough to know the cravings. Curious why sitting cross-legged and rocking felt as good as long washes in the shower.
But young enough to believe there are still good people. That someone rich beyond his own wishes would spend time and money on a runaway child. Someone who did not insist they phone home but agreed that her parents were horrible. Young enough not to mind when I offer to help her bathe or dress. Young enough not to understand my hands roaming except how nice it felt.
And in a few instances, she would agree to be filmed. First, the stills. A slow stip tease to remove her clothes and some suggestive poses. Later, video or webcam. If I treated her well and gave her pleasure with my tongue and fingers, perhaps she would agree to toys or more. And if all else failed, there were 'roofies' or some other drug to eliminate her resistance.
But I didn't think it likely that she would call so off to the station. I did have an order to fill.
Suddenly, she was there. On a bench, cross-legged and rocking. Holding her rucksack as though it contained her very soul. Tears occasionally escaping and fearful eyes scanning the crowd when not being dried. When she looked my way, I pretended to look over her head and off to the right. By the time I had made a 90 degree turn, I felt her hand on my arm.
I turned and allowed my expression to change from uncaring to sad. When I asked if she was okay, she dove into my arms. When her tiny breasts pushed against my shirt, it was difficult not to grab that tender and round arse. But there would be plenty of time for that. I had food, alcohol and drugs, a warm place to stay and all the porn you ever needed. And another lost soul found her way to salvation.
Normally, people perspire when they discuss their most horrible nightmares. But he was sweating. Water almost ran in streams from his head and the tears he cried were nearly as heavy. To think he could dream of raping and abusing innocent teens for sexual gratification or monetary gain made him lose his breakfast for the second time.
Yet the counselor tried to console him. When she touched his shoulder he recoiled in horror as though she had burned him with a torch.
It was a sad day for both of them. It was not often a counselor made the change. She tried to tell him that his dreams were surely a sign that he now thought like the predators who stalked innocents. His years of listening to horrible stories of rape, torture, abandonment and abuse had finally affected his very spirit. So many years of offering a shoulder and words of encouragement as a volunteer rape crisis counselor was lost in the horror of his nightmare.
Now, whenever he would see a young woman, his thoughts were more of worrying her innocence would be destroyed instead of preserved. Certainly not by him but how it would happen with another. Someone else. Always someone else to do the dirty work. Someone else to make his work necessary.
The counselor knew and tried to explain that it would be an asset. To know the mind of the animals; to know their methods and devices and to help educate and prevent. To understand both sides of the coin.
She would never tell him the debit to that spiritual equation. He would realize that soon enough. It was that he would never again see those innocent young victims with the eyes of a child but only with the eyes of a predator. While the counselor knew he would never act on any of those thoughts, it was always sad for her to see a different kind of innocense lost.