I was reporting for the Charleston Metro Star when I was assigned to the Maggie Street story. I had a whole bundle of news articles, pictures of Maggie and zoom clip photos about her when I went to the trial in Tallahassee. The three hubs of the Metro Area were Charleston, Atlanta and Tallahassee. The Tallahassee hub was the least important, and someone wanted the case to be unimportant, so it was scheduled to be there.
Maggie Street was really unimportant in the scheme of the trial, as Lester Smith, the attorney who owned Maggie explained it to me the day I arrived, “This is, Frederick, a simple case of contract law. The Southern Supreme Court will decide if a free person, of sound mind, and with clear forethought can sell or barter him or herself into lifetime servitude?”
“Slavery,” I said as we sat on his porch and a girl, of about 17 years old, brought us big glasses of iced tea with a slice of lime pulled down over the lid of the glass.
“That word will be of course, used by the Metropolitan Federation, but we call it ‘simple indenture.’”
“Like a military contract, or an apprentice ship, or a convict with a court imposed sentence.” I said.
“Exactly Freddie. Only really free people, who truly own themselves, can sell or barter or give away their services. It’s truly what a person does for wages for his boss. He works 8 or 10 hours and gives up his period of freedom for a reward — usually money.”
The girl who stood before my swing was blond and a little too thin. She was I guess waiting for Lester and I to finish our drinks before she carried the glasses back to the kitchen. Her dress was a one piece apron looking sort of apparel, and she wore no shoes. I was not introduced to her, so I figured she was not a family member. I knew the girl was not Maggie Street, but I said, “Is this girl Maggie?”
“No, no”, Lester said, “this one murdered her father and mother. The judge in a local Jax court was preparing to hang her, but I paid her court cost, and ten thousand credits to buy her away from the gallows. They hang their critters in Jax, don’t they Lucy?”
“Yes master”, the girl said, “from the time I was sentenced to death, they hung the knotted rope around my neck with a metal clip.”
“The clip is attached to another clip above the trap door. Critters like Lucy stand there and POP the door opens under them, and the girl, or gent falls. If your standing near you can hear the neck go POP like a chickens bone.” Lester said with a little smile.
“Your embarrassing the girl,” I said.
“Not her,” the lawyer said, “I’ve owned Lucy five years now. She was just 13 when I paid cash for her ass. And this Bubba is not properville like Charleston. Hell Lucy is a bought and paid for slave. What we’re testing with Maggie Street is if someone can contract away their right for life . There is no contest over Lucy. This is red neck, outdoor fuckin Florida. Pull off your shift Lucy and let Lester look you over,” The girl, who I was about to hand my mostly empty ice tea glass to, took off the dress in one quick movement. I think it was not an unusual order coming from Lester. Lester was a short man of maybe 50 years old. He was balding and has a small but distinct pot belly.
“It is perfectly all right to touch her,” Lester said, “when I told old Sergent, the editor, to send you down to our little trial, I wanted you to be cosey. Thats why I have her out on the porch today. Your not afraid to fuck a murderer are you Fred my boy?”
“No, oh not at all,” I said and put my left hand out to what I could reach of Lucy, which was her leg. She moved a bit closer so I could get more access without getting up. Her skin was cool to the touch. The astonishing thing was not that she was a slave, or that Lester owned her, or that he was so frank about lending her to me for my visit at his house, but I was astonished that she was standing in plain view of the road stark naked. In Charleston there ware criminal slaves, but they looked like other people, and stayed dressed outside.
“Sergent said that you weren’t married, and of course I wanted you for my trial This is going to be the trial of the century, precedent setting like the Dred Scott Decision. Dred Scott was a thousand years ago but also about slavery.”
“What is it? Somehow I’ve heard the name, but it doesn’t ring bells?” I said
“Then Scott was a chattel and taken from a slave area into a free (non-slave) one, and the high court said this, ‘A slave one place is a slave every place.’ Quite a great decision for that time. So there were no more hiding places for run-a-way-thralls.
Our decision will be just as earth-shaking. I know Judge Richard Thayer, so I know the outcome already. He wrote a law textbook on contract law called Thayer’s Contract System
For my part I picked Thayer like a plant in a farmer’s market. God he believes contracts are the stuff that separates us from the beasts. He believes in contracts so deeply he would keep his own mother or sister in chains if they had signed a life indenture. Hell, I know how this case is going to turn out before the trial starts. Maggie Street will be declared a slave for life. She signed the indenture contract, and the judge will listen to the Attorney for the Area of the Southern Metro District and Finny Maryweather will give every conceivable argument about how a free person can’t decide on his or her own volition to give up freedom. I will counter that ‘It’s just another properly executed judge’. The judge will let this trial go on for as long as the curious take pictures of him and as long as high profile people like Frederick Younger are writing stories printed all across the country about this trial.”
“I will get to meet the famous Maggie Street, won’t I?”
“Hell yes, none of the competition will have access to her. I figure Finny will call her to testify, and of course I’ll fight that. It’s like a Lucy animal sitting as a witness.” I was working my hand on Lucy’s upper leg.
“By the time Maggie is called to the stand I figure you will have screwed her 15 or 20 times. She’s a better lay than Lucy, Fred. Hell you will have some real depth pieces about Maggie before any other reporters ever see her face. I’m keeping her chained in your upstairs room so that no papers can be served on Maggie. Finnie will have to serve me with papers from Maggie to appear, thus giving proof of my lifetime indenture paper recorded about her slavery.”
“It sounds better than a hotel room,” I said.
“Oh yeah, how often do you get to fuck a legend. Your going to make Maggie Street a household name. Because of this case any bored housewife will be able to become some fast talkers slave. There will be television quiz shows where you can actually ‘Bet Your Life’. Families can bet their freedom against 20,000 credits, maybe by spinning a wheel, or throwing dice. After the family loses, they can be auctioned off right over a computer link I already own stock in three of these companies. I’ll tell you how to buy in, we’ll make millions.”
“Sounds like a sure thing” I stood up and said, “maybe I ought to go to my room and clean up”
“Of course, and between Lucy and Maggie you may want your supper brought up to you. Tomorrow at 9 AM the judge will hear beginning arguments.”
Lucy took my hand and led me up a flight of steps with pictures of ducks along the wall. Flying ducks, sleeping ducks. There was even a statue of a human sized duck, a black Mallard at the top of the stairs.
“You are my master now.” Lucy said as we moved up.
“I think your just a loan to me.” I said.
“Oh no master, Mr Lester said to Maggie and me that we were to please you, and if you enjoyed us, we could go home with you as your property.”
“That sounds good to me” I said, and I felt her breasts as she opened the door for me to enter my rooms. She was as tall as me, but her breasts were not large. She didn’t need a bra to hold them up. I went in the room still holding the ice tea glass. Her shift was, I guess, still on the floor by the swing.
THE TRIAL
DAY ONE
Maggie had been chained in a corner of my room, pretending sleep. She really looked like her pictures. I had her stand and felt her over properly, like you would any nice looking girl you owned but I let her go back to sleep on her floor blanket, and I messed with Lucy that night.
I was really thinking as a reporter the night before the trial, and not as a hard, throbbing dick. I had one of those, but Lucy was the recipient of it, as far up her as it could be shoved.
It was Maggie Street’s story I really wanted, and women who have been screwed, might flavor the tale a little different. I wanted Maggie’s ‘before the up and down story’, and I was willing to wait. It was easy to wait with a live-wire substitute like Lucy.
All night Lucy talked to me, but I said little to her. She said that her master had taken her virginity at age thirteen. She said, “I did kill my mother and father. MOther would hold me down while father beat me. I had a greasy tattooed boyfriend named Fuzi that they hated. He whacked my father several times, and when Matt, My father was down he would kick him.
I didn’t bring Fugi in the house, but when Matt locked him out he would break down the door, or break the lock.
One night dad got beat up and mother brought Matt a knife,a nd both of them had knives, and they went at Fugi. Well Fugi didn’t get cut, but he tied my parents up, stacked books and magazines around them and made a barnyard fire of them in my living room. I went outside, I couldn’t watch it. The judge said I should run down the toad to get help. They were old people who lived within a half mile of us and they couldn’t have beat Fugi and his two friends. All three boys were seventeen. The judge hung all of them. I watched with my new master Lester. They cut the rope off my neck and locked on a dog leash.”
By breakfast I really knew everything that Lucy knew. I also knew ever crevice of her young body, and what my whanger felt like in her mouth with her tongue trying to suck the skin off it.
Lucy fed me breakfast downstairs as I ate with Lester. Lester ate his food by himself.
“She’s a talker, isn’t she Fred?” Lester said, while I ate eggs.
“She told me her life story,” I said
“I bruised her tail a bit last night. I hope she doesn’t set me on fire.” I said.
“She told you, I guess, that I told them both that if you wanted them after the trial, they Maggie and Lucy would be your going away gifts? The trial may go on awhile, so you being young and spunky, might have both swelling up by the time you leave.”
“Well it’s hardly a worry when their both animals. I think they are dandy gifts, but surely you’ve grown fond of them — like house cats or two dogs?”
“I have three habitual shoplifters up in my room for every night fun and games. They aren’t as needy as these feisty young things. Besides I’ve tired a bit of the same old holes and they don’t say it, but I saw their excitement when I told them you were under 30.”
The court-house of Leon County was a mammoth place. The judges platform was like a huge stage. There were ten lawyers on the prosecution side, and seven on the defense. The case title was Southern Area Government Verses Lester Smith.
Somehow in previous negotiations it had been decided that there would be no jury, but Finny Merryweather, the prosecutor came to court wanting a change, wanting a jury.
Finny Merryweather was a very large man with a booming voice. His body was 6′ 4″ but his head was very large for the body. He said, “What this trial is about is human freedom, or human slavery.” My first article was about him and his rantings about, “Either we will have jury law made here, or will slide into the abyss of civilization decline. Coming will be a dictatorship by bench decree. It will be a law of slavery from the bench.”
I felt he was talking right to me, he knew I was there from Charleston. I had written three Connor Award Articles only last year. I think he knew that Lester Smith’s theory of the trial would prevail and he was setting the stage so he could say ‘See they wouldn’t even let a lawful jury decide’. Finnie talked all morning about “Reducing humans, who have committed no crime, just because they want food for their children, or a place to stay, into helpless animals; they will end up creatures to be bartered and sold as livestock with no hope of escape.”
Lester objected several times because the subject strayed from ‘Are we to have a jury trial, to the doom of mankind as we know it.’
In every case the judge sustained Lester’s motions. I didn’t write an article that Lester has his trial locked, but I believed he had it.
I didn’t eat lunch, but sent off my first masterpiece before Lester had a chance to tell his side.
That afternoon was not open to the public because Lester said that night, “Finnie reneged on his deal. Someone in higher government got to him and must have told him how famous he would be if he beat me, and stopped voluntary slavery.”
“Should I hesitate to invest in the quiz shows?”
“Not at all Freddie,” he said as we ate supper in his dining room. “female flesh like this,” He grabbed the ass of one of our serving girls. She was really plump with big tits and reddish hair, “tis quality of flesh will be about the price of pork in 2 years. Watch the commodity markets.”
“Are these criminal slaves Lester?” I said, “are they like Lucy?”
“No, these are volunteer slave women. I keep a classified ad running in the Tallahassee Democrat that say, ‘Permanent position, no layoffs’ and then my office phone number. When women and men show up for the job I have the most attractive young men and women interview the applicants. My operatives show great interest in each person who applies. One thing i do is dress the interviews in the most stylish clothes. Also the office is plush. Cold drinks and trays of finger food are offered each person were interested in. Fat, disfigured or somehow marred women and men are sent next door. I have someone who leads them over there, and they are presented with a ‘take it or leave it lifetime indenture to sign, or find the door. Over a three-year period 60% of the best, and worst applicants sign the indentures.”
“Under today’s laws it looks like free people who sign could change their minds, and just wander off.” I said.
“Show off your brands Nevada” Lester told another busty girl two had been holding a pan of diced and buttered potatoes. This woman was wearing a dress like Lucy wore the day before. She put the potatoes down and pulled off the shift.
“Look at the left butt cheek,” Lester said.
“You’ve branded her,” I said and looked at the inch letters that spelled out ‘SLAVE’
That’s not all,” Lester said, “have you heard of ‘Paper Mint Technology?”
“No what is it?” I said thinking it must be gruesome because Lester was so pleased with whatever it was.
“Well it’s an ingenious device that owners of slaves once inserted in feet. It’s a remote activation machine that could make life miserable for a run away animal. Have you ever had a bad toothache Fred? One that was so severe you wanted to tie a string on a door and slam it, pulling the fuckin tooth out?”
“I’ve had several bad ones,” I said.
“Well I branded Nevada right after she volunteered, and then I put her to sleep and put the device in her teeth.”
“Couldn’t she just pull the tooth and go on her way toothless, maybe get false teeth?”
“It would take more than pulling one tooth,” Lester said, “The Mint makes all the teeth feel like they need pulling, and if an escaped slave somehow pulled all the teeth a Mint treatment would make the gums hurt. Hell it’s foolproof, and I don’t just have to use it on one running away. I can chain one of the implanted thralls to a wall and give a dose for discipline.”
“I don’t think the Mint is something I should write about during your trial.” I said.
“Surely right,” He said, “what did you write about the big regional attorney for the Southern District today?”
I showed him a copy of the document I sent Charleston, as I looked at Nevada standing naked very near me. She fidgeted very little and kept her head lowered. I wondered if he had ever given her a super tooth ache. What power a owner has when he can drive a slave crazy with pain at his whim. Of course a brand would also keep the captive knowing his or her status. It’s hard to forget with the word so precisely burned on a hip.
“I like your strategy Freddie!” Lester said, “You build Finny Merryweather into a larger than life mythic hero, and then he becomes a proper foe for yours truly.”
“Exactly, ” I said.
“Few people ever heard of this Finey fellow before your article, and now people will be talking about him in Los Angles this morning.” Lester said, “people who read your piece will be thinking about the attraction of owning someone else, most people who are not farmers have never dared bring the available stock of criminals into their homes. The new idea to people in your newspaper article is not slavery. Slavery has been an accepted punishment for years now. We don’t want to keep Jeff in jail and pay for his food and guard, so we sell him to a shirt plant or have him plant beans, and pick them. He can’t kill people if he’s all chained up and kept under a gun.
So the novel idea in Texas and New York is that someone who doesn’t steal and kill could WANT to become another person’s property. Should society honor their decision? People have been hearing little bits about Maggie Street. Mostly they’ve seen her picture. Nice looking young woman, not likely to cause a disturbance, a volunteer as lifetime property
Many men are thinking, “I could fuck her, and she could also care for my kids and clean the house.’
Lots of women will think about slavery, ‘Maybe I could get one who’s ten years older than me, who will do everything that I have to do now. We won’t have to fix her teeth, or buy her expensive clothes. Just put her to work –non-stop
Most Americans want to know how eery person has the freedom to be their slave. They want to understand Maggie Street, and they think about owning one like her. You won her Fred. Do some inside up and down with her and explain what her advantages are for an owner, within the limits of decency. readers will read between every line. The product is not Maggie, but it’s the poor girls everywhere who might decide that having an owner is not such a bad idea. Maybe in a bit of depression, instead of killing themself they go sign up and become someone’s animal property.
“Lots of ideas in what you said Lester,” I told him, “I do think Maggie will be ny next article, and probably the real Maggie wouldn’t recognize herself in it. She doesn’t have to approve the contents. I may not even let her read the piece.”
“That’s the spirit Fred, and I prepared the document that transfers her into your name. So if I lose the case, you could lose your property, but I don’t think she would want to leave you. She’s not branded, but does have ‘the mint’ in her mouth.” He handed me the sales document, and in the price area it said, ‘One credit’.
I had a proper interview with Maggie Street. She sat in a chair next to my desk and answered all my questions. I asked about her parents first, “I didn’t know a dad,” she said, “Mother told me about him. He had gone north and promised to come back. Something might have happened to him. MOther said, ‘He probably died somewhere, or he would’ve come back.’ She knew him and is probably right.”
I had a sternly warn Lucy during the 1st part of the interview to keep quite. She wanted to be part of the discussion. Lucy knew Maggie’s life story from being locked in the room with her, and just wanted to help. I should not have said, “Be very quite or I’ll cut your tongue out!” Because as a girl owner, such things could be done. She was very silent after that, and I felt bad about my statement.
Maggie explained going to school in poor clothes because her mother was often out of work. They very often didn’t have rent money and lived in shelters. Her mother was dead, stabbed with a jagged broken whiskey bottle. Of course that made it into my 1st Maggie article. Also, the question of why a free young woman would sign as a lifetime slave, not a 3 year indenture, but as someones animal.
“After mother died” Maggie said, I didn’t have money to bury her in a casket. They dug a hole behind the Crabtree Church and just put her in, no box, and I don’t think it was even a 6 foot hole. A week after she was put down there I had worked only one day and I saw Mr. Smith’s ad in the classifieds. I went to his office and this young man, about your age, explained how I would not have to make any decisions. That I would not have to worry about street muggers, or how I would get my next meal. I waited in ‘the green room’ a swank dining area with five other women, all older than me. We had coffee and some of the world’s best sweet rolls served by 3 young men who were about my age 17. Since being there I’ve heard Mr. Smith say that all the boys in the green room and even Sidney who explained lifetime indentures to me, had no balls. Mr. Smith had them cut off when he acquired those boys, but you couldn’t tell they were castrated. They smiled and walked like boys at school.
Then the notary came with two other men who were witnesses. All six of us signed the documents and then the notary a very short man said, ‘Raise your right hand and repeat after me, ‘I, say your name, do swear that i have read the paper of lifetime indenture, I signed , and freely give away all my rights as a human and citizen.’ We all said the words with our hands raised and the little man, really a midget said, ‘Therefore by the power vested in me as a notary pubic in the State of Florida, area of the Southern District declare all of you females no longer citizens, but domestic animals.’
All three men signed the documents and before they left one red-headed women, maybe 30 years old, who was very pretty, slim and trim, she said, ‘Sir I’m Patti Denkins and I can’t read, does that matter?’
‘Not a bit’ the notary said, ‘now since I put the seal on this document all that matters to yo is what your owner says and what he wants to do with you. Your name isn’t even Patti Doinkins anymore, your name is whatever Lester Smith, your owner, might call you.”
We all just stood about 15 minutes when Sidney looked in the room and saw us there and said, ‘Prosper what are these doing still in the green room. Don’t lolly around and get them over to the master’s office.’
This boy my age came in the room with a handful of aluminum circles and a light chain. He snapped one on each of our necks and then attached the chain to each neck collar. It all snapped together.
‘There you go,’ he said when we were all about one arm length away from each other in a line, attached neck to neck Then he took the arm of the woman 1st in line and walked us out a door and down a hall and into a library or study.
Mr Smith was behind the only desk in the room with papers in his hands when we came in. ‘Good work Prosper’ se said, ‘you can go back to the green room now.’
After Prosper was gone Mr. Smith stood up and said, ‘Female slaves I am your master Lester Smith. You will never call me anything but master, but keep in mind who your owner is’ He walked over to our line and first touched Patti Denkins the red-headed woman. He touched her like you did me last night. I had never seen anything like that before. I thought of slavery until then as getting a job and working all day, but not getting paid. When I saw Mr. Smith working his fingers in and out of Patti’s special place, and heard her going, ‘Oh, golly master, oh, oh, oh’ I thought that Mr Smith might use us for more than just factory work.
His hands went under the clothes of each woman and some stood silent as he messed with their private parts. When he got to me I gave him a big smile and said, ‘Hello master.’
Well most he went for the breasts first. He would reach his hands under the bra and play with the breasts. He surprised me by going into my panties first. My breast were about like they are now. I think they’re nice ones, but he went inside my panties and found out I was a virgin. It was not easy staying one, boys and men want what boys and men want — pussy. I fought them off in shelters from age eleven. In school they wanted to lure me behind the lockers, or into a cleaning room. I was often saved by my loud voice. My mother had squirled it into my head, ‘Save it for marriage. It’s the only way poor girls can become respectable. Boys want you to whore for them, but they despise whores. Who can understand it?’
With his hand down, all around it, I thought ‘Of course, now it belongs to him. What was I thinking a man would do with me? So he owns 5 women and a girl, a virgin girl. I’ll be lucky if he chooses me over the redhead.’
He didn’t have us undress in his office, but after he put his fingers inside, or almost inside all of us and played his feeling game, then he came to me and unhooked my chain leaving on the collar. Then he attached a leash to my neck circle. It was like you walk a dog on. Actually I needed to urinate then, but was afraid to say so. I think it was the coffee and touching me between the legs.
He walked me into another room and Pospter led the other 5 in there. There we were all told by Pospter to undress. We all did that, but Prospter had a whip draped over his shoulder. I think none of us wanted that implied threat to sting our legs.
Then the whole line was taken to a wall and hands were locked to the wall and a belt went around each waist and another belt around the legs, to secure each woman to the wall, so little movement was possible. Then we waited, and I smelled something burning. I had no idea what would happen next.
“Sit here,” the master told me pointing to a single cot. He tied my leash to the bed frame. I sat on the cot. It was the only one in the room, but there were blankets on part of the floor.
The master then walked over to an opening in the wall and pulled out a red glowing metal device. The women along the wall could see the branding iron. Their heads were not fastened. Some screamed, others cried. Someone said, ‘Please no, master,’ said it over and over. The yelling was horrible especially when the glowing metal hit the skin. The smell of burning flesh was not like a barbecue smell exactly, but sweet, sugar smell as well. I could read the word in each rear end from where i sat ‘SLAVE’. I wondered why I had not been marked.
The next process done by Prospter was he took a needle and stuck it in the neck of each women. Then he unhooked each one and took them wobbly over to a blanket on the floor and placed them face up on their backs. One was out cold from the branding and Prospter had to get the other 17-year-old boy to help him carry and drag her to her blanket. Soon they were all drugged and on the mat and the dentist came in. He had Prospter open each girls mouth, a metal device held it open, while the dentist knelt over her and gave each woman three shots in her mouth.
Then Prospter came to where I was tied to the bed by my leash and gave me the shot in my neck. He laid me back on the bed and I woke up with my mouth feeling numb and I felt woozie all over from the neck shot.
As soon as I was awake Prospter led me back into the master’s office. Being leashed and led around naked gives the slave a sense of what she is. So when Prospter left the room I didn’t even hesitate when the master called me with his fingers to come to him and said, ‘Bow and lick my shoes.’ It seemed a natural and normal thing to do. That he moved his feet some, as I licked, and it hurt my mouth a little didn’t matter. I was accepting my new position.
I licked and sucked on his shoes for a long time. As a belonging my comfort was not very important. My former master doesn’t really like young thin girls. I’m not as thin as your other slave Lucy, but I was too thin for his taste in women. He likes women with big breasts and wide hips. Of course as you know when you felt me, that I am not a virgin. Owners, I guess, always take care of breaking a girl in. He got me on the first day. I really liked it, it was nothing he had to whip me to do.
I just spent 2 days at his house before he decided to take me to work with him. At first I was embarrassed to be out in public as a man’s fuck slave.
I know I’m pretty, but I never had proper clothes to really look good. Well Lester took me to the best dress shops and picked clothing for me as models pranced around. I wore a solid gold slave collar. The collar was mounted with diamonds around it. I had two make up women that just did my face and my nails.
I know what ‘being made a spectacle of’ is like.
I grew up in Tallahassee, and went to school here. It was my 3rd year of high school when my mother died. After my surrender as a slave I went to restaurants with Lester,a nd when there were court parties i went as the slave. Lester made it clear to women and men that I committed no crime. Some people were outraged when they found that I had murdered no one. The common thought was that all slaves were doing their criminal punishment. Sometimes when women got to talk to me alone they would say, ‘Just come home with me dear, volunteer slavery is unlawful.’
Lester was gleeful when he was taken to court over me. I was told ‘The Women’s Suffrage Society raised 200,000 credits to get this case going for my freedom. The day he got the court papers about my trial he took me home from his office nude, on a leash. He notified the papers, and when I came out all the cameras were ready, he told me, the editors of all the good papers refused to run the nude photos.
After he told Lucy and me that we would be your slaves, he had us take turns sucking him off. I know it’s not wrong, but I felt really dirty when he told me I was yours and then he had me do that. Of course I had never seen you then, and I had no idea how handsome you were — like someone in the movies.
I was upset all day today that you looked at me, and Lucy, and then chose her.”
“It was journalism 101. You don[‘t screw the one you write about until after the writing interview is finished.” I said. “Last night I just wanted to inventory my animal.”
“You just don’t know how I got turned on by your look over master.” She said.
“You’re the first good-looking man who has ever touched me like that. Lester is old enough to be my father or maybe grandfather. I hope you will screw me raw master.”
__________________________________________
To contact Ray Cates write rcates2@cox.net or fax him at: 1-352-629-1573
Some of his other stories are:
ABOUT TALLAHASSEE http://daisyorfems.wordpress.com
Story Set in Gainesville Fl : http://unsightlyteeth.wordpress.com
http://patricidekinda.wordpress.com
http://orphandorothy.wordpress.com
Setting in Leesburg Florida: http://opahunaka.wordpress.com
http://conniebridget.wordpress.com
http://bennieandharold.wordpress.com
With Setting in Ocala Florida: http://lastcheck.wordpress.com
http://seeyousoonlen.wordpress.com
http://maybekillyou.wordpress.com
Setting in Tampa: http://5cow.wordpress.com
