Being Bad

sebastianut84
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Chapter One: Abroad

“Oh, hallo. Womit kann ich Ihnen behilflich?” a woman answered the door to the small cottage. She appeared to be in her forties, with a gentle, welcoming grace about her.

“I’m sorry…” the young girl standing upon her doorstep looked uncomfortable. “I – I don’t speak German,” she explained.

“No?” the woman feigned surprise. The girl’s bright blonde hair and startling blue eyes certainly fit the part. At a passing glance, these two could very well could have been mother and daughter. “You are American then, yes?” the woman spoke English, but with a thick German accent. The girl sighed with relief, but this was only the first hurdle.

“Yeah,” the girl nodded while eyeing the woman, trying to size her up. She was dressed in khaki, linen pants, with a soft white button down blouse, the sleeves rolled up above the elbows. Her own dirty blonde locks were pulled into a loose, messy bun atop her head. Her smile was kind and inviting, a certain motherly charm and humbleness to her that could put any the wayward traveler at ease. Any but this girl.

“How may I help you?” the woman opened the door wider, also studying the one before her more closely, though without being nearly so obvious about it as she.

The girl was in her early twenties, the woman supposed. Her features were sharp and demeanor serious. Her pinkish lips were drawn down in what appeared to be a permanent scowl. Her eyes, tired and bloodshot, were ringed by dark circles beneath. A result of too many drugs, lack of sleep, or both.

That said, she was still extremely attractive, seductive even – the woman couldn’t deny that. There was an exotic – erotic look to her. If it weren’t for the half-sleeve tattooed across the girl’s left shoulder and down her arm – some kind of skull and floral design – and all the other ink and piercings spoiling the attributes of her slim, hourglass figure, the woman suspected the girl could have been a model of some sort – that, or a pole dancer or porn star more like it. Little did she know, but her assumptions weren’t that far off.

The girl was dressed about as skimpily as one could be, and still be wearing what one would consider clothes. The tight tank top could barely contain the girl’s huge… the word “melons” came to mind. They approached a size too large for her small and slender frame.

Not only that, but the woman could see the girl’s nipples jutting right through. It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Beneath, like the girl’s ears, nose and tongue, the woman could tell that her nipples were pierced with small metal studs as well.

And her cut-off blue jean shorts – something only an American would wear – were far too short, near scandalous, riding right up into the girl’s vagina. She suspected that they covered little of her backside. The woman spotted an additional large tattoo reaching down the side of the girl’s left thigh, but did not linger upon it.

“There was an ad…” the girl answered her, swinging her backpack around front. Digging through it, she produced a folded up newspaper, this specific ad circled in blue ink. “It said you were offering part-time work in trade for room and board?”

“Valda!” a heavy male’s voice called over them from the yard. The girl jumped, spinning where she stood, raising her arms and fists as if to defend herself. “Valda, wer ist das? (Valda, who is this?)”

He was… smiling. There was no threat. No danger. The girl bit at her tongue, chastising herself for her overt, over-reaction. She had been stupid. She forced herself to relax, dropping her arms back down to her sides.

The girl was immediately struck by the size of him, tall and burly. The man was the size of an ox! He had a thick set of short, peppered gray hair and beard, and dressed in a worn flannel shirt, frayed jeans and boots, he looked like a lumberjack. The girl guessed he was a little older than the woman, in his later forties, possibly fifties, his skin tanned and forehead creased from too many days in the sun.

Busy studying the man, the young girl missed the woman named Valda eyeing her curiously from behind. Indeed, the girl’s shorts did leave little of her ample backside to be imagined, but that wasn’t what she was so inquisitive about. She hadn’t missed the girl’s odd reaction, and it made her think.

“This is… oh, I’m sorry, dear. I did not get your name?” Valda asked her.

“E – Eva…” the girl said, though almost more as a question than stating her given name. Valda raised a brow, her suspicions only deepening.

“A beautiful name, Eva,” the woman offered. “I am Valda, and this is my husband, Adolf,” she completed the introductions.

“Eva is an American,” she now addressed her husband. “Here about the ad in the newspaper,” her voice was tender and reassuring.

“That so?” Adolf likewise continued in English, but with that same, hard German accent.

He gave the girl Eva a quick look over, not bothering to be coy about it. And Eva did not wilt as he eyed her up and down, even though most would find this large man peering at them so extremely intimidating. He was not looking at her suspiciously or with incrimination, but simply as one might examine an automobile before they considered purchasing it. She was, after all, here to apply for a job.

“So, Eva,” Adolf eventually added, softening some. “Have you ever worked on a farm before?” he asked in a half chuckle, revealing his doubt.

“No,” Eva answered truthfully.

“I didn’t think so,” Adolf took over the conversation from his wife. “The work’s hard. Lot’s of heavy lifting. I don’t think you’d much like it,” he was blunt with her.

“I can handle it!” Eva drew herself up to her full height, holding her chin high. “I’m tough. I am a hard worker and a quick learner – you won’t be sorry!” she avowed confidently. It had been a lot of trouble and a long ways out here from Munich. If this didn’t work…

Adolf laughed heartily at her insistence. “I’m sorry, Eva the American, but this is no work for a young lady such as your-” he was about to decline her.

“Adolf,” Valda suddenly interrupted him. “Was mit den Zwingern? (What about the Kennels?)” Valda rattled off rather hurriedly in her native tongue. Eva glanced at Valda, then quickly back to Adolf. She could not understand what had been said, but gathered that the woman was pleading her case for her.

Eva stared intently into Adolf’s eyes, as if trying to bend him by her will alone. She was unsure of herself for what felt like the first time in her life. She did not like this feeling. She did not like being without control, and right now, she was at rock bottom. This had to work. At the moment, she had no where else to go.

“Den Zwingern? (The kennels?)” Adolf questioned, giving his wife a queer look. “Was meinst du, weib? Den Zwingern?! (What do you mean, woman? The kennels?!)”

Per the tone of his response, Eva suspected this was not going over so well. Why couldn’t they just speak in English!

“Ich meinte genau das, was ich gesagt habe. Schaut sie euch an, sie ist perfekt sein könnte! (I meant exactly what I said. Look at her, she could be perfect!)” they carried on in their private conversation.

“Ha!” Adolf scoffed.

Eva’s eyes narrowed in on him. She may be young, but she was not naïve. A lot was being said. A lot that she could not understand. They had been having a perfectly fine conversation in English, they both knew she could not speak German, and one would only do such a thing if they wished for the third party to specifically not be able to understand. Eva did not trust anyone, and got the creeping suspicion that something was up.

“Haben Sie Ihren Verstand verloren, weib? (Have you lost your mind, woman?!) Adolf shot back. “Sie haben gerade erst traf dieses Mädchen, und Sie denken …? (You’ve only just met this girl, and you think…?)”

Eva chewed on her cheek as she listened to them go back and forth. She was teetering on her next move, but eventually resolved that she was being paranoid. These too looked about as dangerous as a pair of kittens, the woman especially. What trouble could they possibly be up to? Besides, she was more than capable of handling herself, if it ever did come to that.

“I’ll do whatever you need me too!” Eva interjected. “Just give me a chance!” Eva pleaded. She was not one prone to beg, and it left a sour taste in her mouth, but she didn’t even have a phone to call a cab to come get her, much less the money to pay them. It was a long walk back to the closest town from here.

“Du seihst, Adolf?! (You see, Adolf?!)” Valda elated. “Sie ist verzweifelt! (She’s desperate!)” Valda put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.

“Sie sind lächerlich! Sie wissen nichts über dieses Mädchen… Sie sind für Ärger, Valda! (You’re being ridiculous! You know nothing about this girl… You are asking for trouble, Valda!)”

“Machst nichts du. Die Zwinger sind meine Verantwortung! (Never mind you. The kennels are my responsibility!)” Valda disregarded her husband’s opinion. Eva was perfect for this, she just knew it!

Eva, meanwhile, was becoming so frustrated at this talking behind her back, that she felt violent. She had to struggle to keep her cool. Popping off at the mouth right now would get her nowhere, and would more than likely result in a very long walk back to town.

Then… Adolf’s demeanor seemed to change. Eva couldn’t put her finger on it, but he began to look differently upon her, as if seeing her in a different light. He smiled, meeting her disgruntled gaze.

“You must forgive me,” he started apologetically, switching back to English and now addressing her directly. “I do not mean to be rude, the farm just isn’t much of a place for a lady such as yourself. We’ve never taken on a female before, but…” he spared one final glance to his wife. Valda nodded.

“Do you understand the offer?” he asked Eva.

Eva nodded, her hopes reigniting. The thought of another night on the road was enough to make her sick.

“There’s no wage. It’s part time work, for backpackers and tourist like yourself, just looking for a free roof and a warm meal on their stay. Nothing too demanding, we understand you are on holiday and will want time to see the sights and such, but it’s not a free ride either. You’ll be expected to earn your keep. Agreed?” he was straightforward with her.

Eva appreciated his candor. She never had time for people who liked to beat around the bush. No wages sucked, she needed a way to get her hands on some cash, but there was no way she was about to turn down a free bed and food at the moment either.

“Agreed.”

“Nun, ich hoffe du ist Recht über ihre, (Well, I do hope you’re right about her,)” Adolf said to his wife, before adding to Eva, “Very well then,” Adolf gestured towards the house. “My wife says we shall give you a chance, and I do not argue with her. Let’s show you where you’ll be staying.”

Eva smiled inwardly with devious glee.

. . . .

“It’s not much, but…” Valda began apologetically.

“It’s fine,” Eva said, eyeing one of the two, small, twin sized beds tucked away in the upper loft. She was tired – so very tired – and looked forward to a good nights rest in her own bed. It had been a long road here.

“Well,” Adolf and Valda, the Bergers she’d learned, smiled broadly. “I’m glad you like it!” Valda said.

“Ben,” Adolf added as an after thought.

“I’m sorry?” Eva responded, unsure if what he’d said was in German.

“Ben,” he repeated. “An American like you.” Eva did not like this sound of this. No Americans. Danger. “He’s finishing up down at the stables now. You’ll get to meet him soon, but, this is a small house, and he sleeps there,” Adolf pointed at the second bed. They weren’t five feet apart, separated only by a narrow bedside table against the wall.

“Oh,” Eva took note of his personal belongings set aside.

“I’m sorry, but this is all we have. Like Adolf said earlier, we usually just have boys staying with us. Ben is a well behaved young man, though. There won’t be any problems, if you’re comfortable with it..?” Valda posed.

Eva nodded absently, while considering her options. She didn’t have any. The house was small and simplistic. The downstairs comprised of a single large room that blended together the living area, kitchen, and dining room. Adolf and Valda’s master suite was the only private bedroom. The loft, where she and apparently this Ben would be sleeping, was overhead, filling in the space of the vaulted ceiling. It overlooked the downstairs, connected by a steep ladder, with a wooden banister and railings as the only thing separating it from below. As it was, it was left completely open. By this, and sharing it with another, she wouldn’t be getting any privacy.

“Whatever,” she relented, as if she had a choice.

“Perfect!,” Valda elated. “We all share the wash room downstairs,” she pointed towards a door Eva could see at the far side, next to the master bedroom’s door. “Your dresser,” she gestured to the small chest-of-drawers at the foot of her bed. “A computer you’re free to use,” she pointed to a small desk on Ben’s side of the room. “It has internet. Unless you have any questions, we’ll leave you to get settled in?”

“No,” Eva said, slumping her bag off her shoulder and onto the floor at her feet. “This is fine.”

“Dinner will be served at seven. Take your time, dear,” Valda took her husband’s hand and led him away, to give her what little privacy they could.

Back downstairs, Eva could see them both in the kitchen whispering huddled together, which also meant that they could both see her in the loft, should they care to look. They needed only to spare a glance up, but Eva was never the timid type. Without any hesitation whatsoever, not even bothering to check and see if they were indeed spying on her or not, Eva stripped herself right down, tossing her clothes into a pile next to her backpack. She slipped into bed, pulling the soft covers over her nude body. She was tired, and was looking forward to this more than anything. Her head had hardly hit the pillow before she was fast asleep.

 

Continued on the next page (link below).

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