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Fukuzaki was exceptionally aloof. He had that old-school Japanese air about him, where everything was formal and ritualized. The few times he spoke to Kim were short, direct commands, absent any warmth. He was cold and detached, and I found myself wondering just why Kim would have mumbled last night that she missed her father.Growing up, there had been a few times that I missed my parents. Usually, they were in times of great stress, times when I yearned for their comforting touch and affectionate embrace. I couldn't imagine the stoic man in front of me being comforting or affectionate toward Kim. Indeed, he hadn't even hugged her in greeting on our arrival.But maybe that was the point. Kim said that she'd felt submissive for her entire life, even as a child. I had been wondering what Master had come along at some point, likely around that 15-year-old age when Kim told me she'd realized it was her nature. But perhaps there wasn't any external 'Master' influence. Maybe Kim's own. There was another problem, too. She was pregnant and confident that the baby was her own father’s. At long last, she had defeated her biological clock and proven fertile after all. Who would want a single mom who was infamous and hated by so many people, particularly one who had fucked her old man? On the other hand, if she kept banging older, richer men, she could get rich enough that she could take care of herself, if she wanted to, that was. She could fuck them into an early grave, but only after they gave her enough to survive.Yes, yes, that sounded like fun. It was sad with Daddy, but that was because she adored him. He was her own father. It was something else with other old men looking for eye and arm candy. She would make them die very happy, but in return, she wanted chunks of their estate. She was a chunky woman, after all, Monica giggled as she punned in her mind.Oh, yes, there were lots of possibilities. She could even refer other celebrities to Bimbo Tech. They paid for.
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’ I told her quickly, trying to seem calm so she wouldn’t panic too badly, but inside I was screaming at her. She jumped up quickly and started for the door, grabbing some things on the way out. I ran after her, still choking on the smoke I had inhaled. We ran out the door and into the woods. I didn’t know where we were going, all I knew was we had to get out of that house. Jessie seemed to want to get as far away from it as possible. ‘Where are we going?’ I tried to ask her, but it came out more as if I was just breathing out the words, sounding almost like a wheeze. ‘Somewhere away from here, someone will se the fire qand then we’re screwed.’ She just kept running and then we came up to the edge of some trees and I realized where she was headed, my house, or rather, my old house. This is the way I had come when I found her. . . or well, she found me. ‘Why are we going there?’ I asked, watching her carefully weave through the briers and small tree limbs, emerging through the trees.

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