FOUNDLING: CONTEMPLATING A FEW MINOR CHANGES

BY CHRISTOPHER TOILKIEN

Vicki swam back and forth in the Olympic size pool alone. It was the way she had always worked out her thoughts and plans.

The first site of the small shallow pool surrounded by Greek pillars had hit her very hard. She had avoided returning home for centuries. But it had jolted her memories. The atrium of her father's house had looked shockingly similar. It was in that pool her mother had first taught her to swim. And in it she discovered her immortality.

A naked little female child gently supported by her mother's hands as she giggled and laughed only as children can. Splashing and swallowing mouthfuls of water. Only to spit them out imitating the bronze fish shaped fountain that filled the pool. She remembered her mother gradually letting her support herself and surprised even her when she dog paddled fearlessly away.

Warm sun, plentiful food, colorful clothing, loving parents what more could a child of Rome want.

But the volcano they called Visuvius took all that away one fateful morning. Black clouds of steaming, poisonous ash rolled out of its flaming gullet. Huge stones catapulted from it, crashing indiscriminately down from the blood red sky and endless falls of fine red-hot ash buried everything deep. A mother desperately trying to save her child, wetting cloths to cover their noses and mouths from the dust, herself succumbed to the poisonous gas. Her dead hands dropping her into the shallow pool. The child knocked unconscious from the impact of her body hitting the shallow bottom. The water deep enough to prevent the hot ash from burning her skin.

But out of this hell on earth a young child staggered the next morning to be gathered up by desperately searching relatives. Latin, especially Etruscan translates poorly into our modern English, itself an unholy mixture. But they called her, even as her own mother had "Foundling". For had not her mother secretively told her that the child had miraculously turned up in her atrium. The very morning the midwife had again told her she would never bear children.

Vicki hated lying to Fondling about having gone to this school. In truth, the very idea made her shudder. Having to have sex with men? Ugggghhhhh! She would rather be flayed alive. Actually she had been during the inquisition, but revenge was a bitch. Something she had been called once and a while. Something she was very good at, extracting revenge.

No, she wanted to know what was going on here. Why the kidnapping? Why was little pure Melissa even being sent here? Her far ranging mind told her that there was something behind this place. Something old, something evil, something powerful. She had always d been able to "Read" people. Approaching another, she could see the aura around them like the flame of a candle around its wick. Lying to her changed the color and she could tell what a person would do seconds before they did themselves. Most auras were rainbows. Truly good people tended to be lighter colored. Evil turned the aura darker.

And Foundling's reason for staying was Melissa, but didn't she realize that Vicki could get her that? But the child was determined to endure anything for her. Love was one thing that even the Gods could do nothing about.

As the days progressed, Vicki was having a harder and harder time keeping her temper under check. Vicki was a sadist (and sometimes a masochist, she swung both ways), and loved whipping and caning young girls. But Vicki hardly ever gave any girl more than a small bruise. The girls in this place where frequently beaten unconscious, often with their skin laced with red whip marks This place was too brutal! Whoever was running this asylum didn't know the first thing about training sex slaves.

Sex slaves were to be pampered, trained in both pleasure and pain so that the two would become one in the slaves mind. Only an idiot would stripe a girl up so bad that she'd need weeks to recover. And yet, that seemed to be standard practice around here as well as letting the male guard's rape the girls at will. Then their was the idiotic notion this school seemed to have to discourage female/female love. That was big time stupid. The girls needed the release, also it was so much fun to have the girls fall in love, then have them punish each other, or offer to take a whipping for their lover. Not to mention the fact that many of the girls would be put in modern day harems, where their master might only have them once a month.

No, this place was wrong and Vicki was just the person to bring it down. or force it to change it's ways. Vicki wondered what Foundling would think if she knew that Vicki was actually been around since the Roman Empire. She had been Valorous Maximus Cicero, Roman Matron and Vestal Virgin. Volotari, a Goth, Veritan, a Carolinian Kings bride, Virginia an Elizabethan Nobleman's widow, Virginia Dare. The list was endless. Every fifty years or so. A new name, a new place.

Arriving in Puritan America she had fled witchcraft accusations to live with Native Americans, she then had traveled from tribe to tribe to hide the fact that she had stopped aging at 25. She had lived with the Indians until the American Revolution; there she had taken on the identity of Lady Liberty, the first costumed female heroine. Virginia, now calling herself Vicki, had discovered that she had many unusual powers over the nearly two millennia, but she kept herself deliberately at only near maximum human level strength and agility during the revolution. Except for the few times she was captured, then she would break free of her chains at night.

During WW2 Vicki had become the dynamic Dare Doll. Using her full powers she had helped the allies win the war as an underground terrorist in Europe. Posing as her own granddaughter, Vicki had served her adopted homeland in various super secret capacities until she tired of endless undercover warfare.

From a trusted friend dying in her arms on some dirty tricks mission foul up, she learned of Ropeville and other people that shared her ideals and her perversions. Foundling had become very dear to Vicki and so despite what she had promised when diversing herself from the old life, she had to act.

She suspected this new little Foundling was really another as she was. A counterpoise to Evil, in all it's forms.

Not a self-righteous bitch, but one who instinctively knew who was on her side. And what was really needed to be done.

Vicki was horrified at the treatment of some of the girls as she finished her last class of the day. One girl had been beaten so badly that her skin could not take immersion in the chlorine treated water. That was no way to train a sex slave! A sex slave needed to be whipped in such a way that she had an orgasm and wanted more. This girl would be laid up for at least 2 weeks, and possibly be scarred for life, thus lowering her market value. Even if this place was TRYING just to make a profit, you didn't do that by scarring and branding your slaves. No one wanted a marked up slave! No one wanted a slave with another mans brand on her! And the men, they were far more brutal than they needed to be. No matter what anyone was thinking, you didn't train a girl to give head and like it if you gave her a black eye and busted her lip with your fists. This place was either going to change or it was going down!

She found the harsh treatment was devolved from the headmistress. Only she appeared to interact with the dark one deep below. Vicki believed he fed on the souls of human females. And gathering so many together close. He could absorb miniscule amounts from many and avoid revealing himself by gorging on a few.

But the ones he "Gifted" with immortality was only under his control within certain physical limits. He really may be a fallen angel, but his powers were not omnipotent. Malibu Barbie's aura for instance, appeared neutral with a darker ring of his touch surrounding it. but her friend Cindy was a puzzle. She simply did not have one.

Sister the Headmistress was dark gray, but not black and the absolutely stupendous Sister B contained a shade of pink, Vicki only saw in females of her own persuasion.

The way to reform the school was to alter Sister A's perception of proper sex. And the person to do it was the one who could both get close to her and possibly show her the error of her ways.

Vicki now had to convince Sister B to make a pass at Sister A. Could Vicki convince her to? Or at least that she might be receptive to one? And Vicki had seen Sister A winch as they walked past a guard forcing a very little student to please him with her mouth right in the middle of the main thoroughfare of the school. She was getting annoyed at the coarse actions of the guards. Maybe a little suggestion of a change may work.

But a little relaxation before action was what she needed right now.

Vicki leapt out of the pool, and walked over to where Malibu Barbie and Cindy lay in the leather clad shallow pool writhing in sexual frenzy from the effects of those very special oils. It was time to see just how well trained these two really were. And she was determined to try them out until their little bodies were completely exhausted.