“I’ll Do Anything…”

Synopsis

A faulty toaster results in Grace’s blackmail and abduction and my becoming a daddy.

“I’ll Do Anything…”

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.

© obohobo 2009

Blackmail

“How could you be so stupid Grace? For a measly £2, you buy a second-hand toaster off a junk stall in the market, plug it in here without having it checked, and blow the main fuse to the whole office block. You’ll lose your job for sure when the boss gets my report.”

“Do you have to report it Roy?”

“My job will be at risk if I don’t. That £2 cost the firm thousands of pounds because all the computers went down, and, although I restored the power to most floors fairly quickly, almost all the staff lost data that they are now re-entering and the IT bods are working their balls off to get some computers up and running again. You’re damn lucky you didn’t cause a fire with those paper towels so close.”

“Oh, God no!” She turned very pale and looked at me with wide open eyes, tears flowing down her cheeks, “Please don’t report it, please don’t. I need the money to pay the rent and for a little food for us. The child benefit I get doesn’t keep us. I thought the toaster would make the cheap, stale bread I buy, go a bit further and make it more palatable. If I can’t pay the rent I’ll get thrown out and Debbie will be taken into care. It’s bad enough trying to keep social services from taking her away because of the squalor we live in, without me being homeless and her being put in with strange people.”

During the conversation I checked the plug and did insulation test on the toaster. “She’d have been put into care without a mother if you’d been touching the toaster when you plugged it in. That thing is absolutely lethal. Wire across the fuse terminals instead of a fuse, and a dead short to the toaster frame. You’d have been dead before anyone found you. The stall holder should be prosecuted for selling it.”

“He said it worked and I assumed…” She broke down and wept. Looking up she pleaded, “Please Roy, don’t let them know.”

“That should be your cue to say, I’ll do ANYTHING if you don’t report it.” I said it light heartedly as a joke to try and lighten the atmosphere but she took it seriously.

“You’re trying to blackmail me into having sex with you? You want me to be a slave to your desires? You perverted bastard. I thought… I thought you were a decent person but…”

“No, Grace, I didn’t mean it that way. I have no intention of forcing you to have sex with me or anyone else. Look, I’ve a couple more places to sort the power out, meanwhile put that collection of scrap metal back in your bag and keep it out of sight. Go back and finish cleaning whatever you should be cleaning and I’ll try and think up an explanation that keeps you out of the shit. I’ll come and see you again at lunch break.”

Grace worked as the daytime cleaner for the ground floor offices. She kept the toilets and the staff kitchen area immaculate and fortunately for her, she’d plugged the faulty toaster into a socket in her little storeroom out of sight of any staff. As the firm’s electrician, I knew I could concoct a convincing story to cover for her but after being called a perverted bastard, I thought I’d let her stew for a bit even if I’d said the wrong thing. I knew very little about the woman apart from her name, but I knew where to find out.

“Your office electrics all okay now Madge?” I asked the personnel supervisor.

“Yes, nearly updated the records again. What caused it?”

“Broken wire in the basement. I’ve spoken with Grace Wilkes and she seemed real scared there would be a fire. What do you know about her?”

“She’s a single mother with a five year old daughter whose face is disfigured from being seriously burned in a house fire when only about a year old. Her husband died saving the child and they lost everything they owned. They couldn’t afford insurance so they really did lose everything. Sad story. She’s proud and tries not to accept charity or to fiddle the benefits system but she’s still paying for things she bought that were destroyed in the fire. Lives in a bad area and never buys new clothes. That’s about all I know. You fancy her?”

“Might do worse. Hadn’t really spoken to her until this morning but I can see why the prospect of a fire scared her so badly.”

I spent the rest of the morning ‘doctoring’ a cable in the boiler room. We’d had workmen down there doing repairs earlier in the week and I suggested that a piece of their equipment might have damaged it. It wouldn’t pass a major investigation but I doubted it would come to that.

What to do about Grace? I pondered on that question for the remainder of the morning. Her stupid action shouldn’t go unpunished but I wasn’t about to order her to become a sex slave. Maybe though, I could use the blackmail option to get to know her better.

“The cause of the power disruption was a damaged cable in the boiler room,” I informed her at lunchtime and we were alone in her room. She thanked me profusely but I cut in, “I haven’t written the report yet and can still state the true cause.” I waited a little while to give the information time to reach her brain and be processed before going on, “And I’ve decided to use the blackmail option.”

“Oh God no! You can’t! You said you wouldn’t. I’m not a whore.”

I grinned, “I said I wouldn’t use it to make you a sex slave and I won’t. Instead, you will cook and invite me to a proper Sunday dinner this weekend. Roast beef and all the bits.”

“I’m so sorry Roy, I can’t do it. Maybe the following Sunday but not this week.” After a little questioning, she finally told me the reason. “My pay and welfare cheque won’t come until next week and I’ve hardly enough money to get food for Debbie, even if it’s only spaghetti and mince. In any case you wouldn’t want to come to my place, it’s too disgusting for visitors.”

Having lived on my own for the last six years, I could cook but often didn’t bother unless I had company. I thought my plan would give me a meal cooked by a woman other than my sister as well as finding a little about Grace; I wasn’t prepared to be thwarted by her lack of funds. “Here’s £20, you do the cooking and we’ll all eat together. No arguments. Remember, I am blackmailing you.” We both knew that wasn’t a reality but after more protests, she reluctantly went along with it.

“Hi Sarah,” I phoned my sister, “What would you get a five year-old girl who has nothing? Not too expensive but not from the pound shop either.” Before she’d answer, I had to give her all the details of Grace and Debbie, or at least the few details I had, and she’d kidded me that I’d probably blackmail Grace into marriage as well. At 31, I’m nearly two years older than her and we have a good relationship but she’s married and has been for six years so I get a lot of ribbing about my still being a bachelor and not being able to find the right girl to marry. I drop in for a meal with her and husband David and four year-old son, Paul, about once a week and there’s always a good deal of friendly banter between us.

“Eventually she answered my question. “They had some lovely furry panda bears in Glimson’s the other day, they’re about as big as Paul. £25 or rather £24.99, is that in your price range? I could pop out and check as they are only around the corner.”

“Sounds great, I’ll even give you the penny for going!”

“Oh how your generosity exceeds your beauty brother dear!”

Knowing of the area in which Grace lived, I parked in the town car park and took the bus for the last mile. Even with some pre-knowledge, the area appeared far worse than I imagined. I came to the near derelict tower block of flats, “What a bloody eyesore! I can’t believe anyone could live in those conditions in this day and age, and yet there are youths and children happily around playing and yelling at one another. The whole place is a blot on the landscape and the surroundings are not much more than a rubbish dump. Something should be done about it,” I thought angrily, “Grace must be really poor and desperate to live in such a place.”

“You from the council mister?” an urchin enquired.

“No, just visiting, Mrs. Wilkes.”

“She don’t sell nuthin, she’s got a monster kid. Yer hav’t’a go in the back door fer hers, front way’s blocked.”

Grace greeted me quietly and introduced me to Debbie, who shyly hid behind her mother until I knelt down and offered her the box. I gave Grace a smaller box. Much to my annoyance, she tried to refuse it but eventually she extracted the new toaster I’d bought and PAT tested and put a green safety label on. “You’ve no excuse now for buying a bomb off the market and trying to blow up the works,” I joked but she looked serious.

“I don’t deserve this, please take it back.”

“No way, it’s yours. Use it. This one works.”

By then Debbie had dragged her box behind the table, almost out of my sight and when Grace excused herself to attend to things in the kitchen I knelt beside the young girl and clearly saw the facial scars that disfigured her features. “Hi,” I said softly, “Are you going to open it?” She nodded. “You can tear the paper off if you want.” Once she started, the paper didn’t stand a chance, nor did the carton when she saw the picture on the outside. Her face lit up with a huge smile when she lifted the panda from the box and for me to see her delight was worth far more than all the money I’d spent.

“Mummy, mummy, look what the man brought me!”

Grace attempted to complain that I shouldn’t have bought her such an expensive gift but her face beamed with pleasure too at seeing her daughter’s happiness.

While Debbie quietly hugged and talked to the bear, I had chance to look around and wondered why the place hadn’t been condemned years ago. The inside, Grace cleaned with her usual thoroughness, but she couldn’t do anything with the damp walls, the cracked window or the rotting woodwork. It couldn’t do the child’s health, or hers, any good and I wondered why she hadn’t looked for another place but suspected she couldn’t afford anything better and as Madge said, her pride wouldn’t allow her to work the benefits system to obtain more money if it meant slightly falsifying her income.

Dinner passed pleasantly enough, and for a while afterwards, I played with Debbie and breached her shyness to some extent. Grace revealed just a little more of her life and the Catch 22 situation she found herself in. She couldn’t afford a babysitter for Debbie so she could work more hours, and because she couldn’t earn more she couldn’t afford a better place. Her husband had a job with good prospects and they’d bought a lot of furniture on hire purchase, all of which was destroyed in the fire and which she still had to pay for.

I invited them to a meal that I cooked the following Sunday but Grace firmly refused, saying that she’d only done this for me because of the blackmail. I knew that wasn’t the real reason and so did she, and I sensed she was afraid to get close to a man while she had a disfigured daughter. Perhaps after the comments I’d heard outside, she feared no one would take her and accept her child. Without the overalls she always wore at work, I saw she had an attractive figure, not one that would win any glamour contest, but nice and homely. Late twenties I guessed, dark hair, small frame and breasts and, the few times I’d seen it, a lovely smile. I did give her a peck on the cheek when I left but from what she’d said, I doubted she wanted to continue with our relationship.

Grace tried to avoid me for the next three weeks but I ‘accidentally’ met her several times but she wouldn’t do more than pass the time of day. I asked about Debbie and found she still adored the panda and called it Polly. One morning I detoured to pass her little room and caught her coming out wheeling her bucket and mop. She looked forlorn and worried and had been crying but refused to say why. I went to Madge, the fount of all knowledge when it comes to personnel. “The council have condemned the block of flats and are going to tear them down. At the end of the week, Grace has to leave and the council are putting her into temporary B&B accommodation and Debbie is going into care. Social Services have been itching to get their hands on Debbie for some time. All her stuff is being put into storage the council will pay for but only for three months, until she finds another place.”

“Not if I can help it,” I grunted.

“The fact that she is losing Debbie is tearing her heart out although she hopes the council and social will change their minds about that. I’ve looked at what accommodation is available but there’s nothing in her price range so it looks as if the council will separate them, at least for a while, probably a long while as the council have 22 families in that block to re-house and they’re more worried about the payments than the care of the tenants.” Madge looked at me curiously, “Naturally she’s upset but she’s no money for a deposit on another flat even if she can afford the rent. I doubt she’ll accept charity from you, if that’s what you’re thinking Roy.”

Abducted

For a rushed planned job between Sarah, David and me, it went with almost military precision. I walked to work and checked out at 3:30, minutes before Grace left. Sarah arrived driving a hired van and parked in a visitor’s space close to the main gate. David collected Paul from school and took him to a friend’s house where he would spend the night, and then drove to Grace’s apartment. We needed his car because it had a child’s seat already in place. The big variable, Grace’s reaction, couldn’t be figured into the plan but I hoped gentle force would be enough to ensure she cooperated.

I waited behind a parked car but in Sarah’s view and signalled to her as Grace left the building. Only a few workers left at that time so we had a clear space. Sarah pulled up alongside Grace, and pushed open the passenger side door. “Get in Grace,” she ordered.

“Yes, get in,” I reinforced the command with a push.

“What’s going on…?” By then I’d almost lifted her into the van and her struggles were too late and too feeble to be effective and I’d climbed in alongside her. “What the hell is going on Roy? Who is this woman? Where are taking me? I have to pick up Debbie. Let me go or I’ll report…”

“Shut up Grace! No one is going to harm you or Debbie. First meet my sister Sarah.” Sarah smiled and said, “Hi,” but Grace only scowled and turned back to me. “We’re abducting you Grace, and Debbie too. It’s for your own good. We’re doing it because of your stubbornness and refusal to let anyone help you. I’m not going to let the bloody council and social workers split you from your daughter when I can give you a place to live together. We’re going to Debbie’s school now. You will pick her up and walk her home as normal. We’ll go to your flat and load all the stuff you’ve packed into the van and take it to my house where you will have the use of two bedrooms but we’ll have to share the kitchen and bathroom facilities.”

“I’m going to have to live with you? I thought you’d finished blackmailing me!”

“You will be living in my house where conditions are far better than your present place. You will have your own space and I won’t ask you to share my bed. That will surely be better than you being in a B&B and Debbie in a home somewhere else? We’re at the school now so if you wish to opt out, keep Debbie with you for half an hour and we’ll go home. If you agree to take my lodgings, bring her to the flat and let us in so we can load your stuff. That way you’ll live in decent surroundings and keep your daughter with you.”

A small crowd gathered round the van while we waited for what seemed an interminable time before Grace and Debbie arrived. “It’s the Polly panda man, Mummy,” the little girl exclaimed when she saw me.

“Do I get a hug?” I asked and smiled when, after looking at the other children, came and I gave her a hug and a kiss. “That’s more than I’ve had from her mother,” I thought but said nothing and introduced ‘Auntie Sarah’, who also got a hug.

“You movin’ ’er Mate?” A couple of skinhead teenagers stood by the van.

“Yeah. You want to earn yourselves a tenner apiece?”

With their help and David’s when he arrived, we packed the van quickly. We left all her miss-matched, worn out, furniture and she’d already packed almost everything else into boxes ready for the council to take into storage and her clothing lay neatly packed in suitcases. By six o’clock we’d parked on my drive ready to unload. David stopped on the way and bought fish and chips for us all, and while he reheated them in the oven, I gave the new arrivals a tour of my home. Grace kept asking, “Why? Why are you doing it?” I wondered that too but with everything else going on, I couldn’t answer.

By nine o’clock we were alone. Sarah left to return the van and when I tried to pay her for the hire, in front of Grace, she laughed and said, “Take it as a pre-wedding gift brother dear.” We put Debbie to bed with the panda alongside her and for the first time, she had a room of her own, but we left the door open and the landing light on in case she woke disorientated in the night.

At last we could sit down and have a mug of hot chocolate before going to bed. In the quiet of the lounge, Grace again voiced her concerns about my motives. “Probably it’s the ‘help a maiden in distress’ syndrome,” I replied but somehow I knew there was more to it and so did she.

“You should know I had a plan to keep Debbie and me together, so while what you’ve done seems okay, it may not have been necessary. I thought the local paper might like a sob story and be able to find an alternative especially after the way they’ve been on to the council over their handling of the affair. It may not have worked so I’m grateful for all this but I’m worried about how I am to pay for it? I could barely afford the other place and I certainly don’t want to sponge on your charity. You’ve forced this on me and while I appreciate your help, it’s left me indebted to you and already you’ve spent a lot of money on me. I need to repay your kindness even if it takes months.”

“You don’t have to pay with money.” Grace picked up her empty mug and glared. I knew I’d said the wrong thing and if I didn’t correct myself quickly, the mug would be thrown at my head. “Calm down Grace, I said I wouldn’t blackmail you into sex and I meant it, I can see that’s what you’re thinking. Look around you. Even if we ignore the unpacked boxes we brought today, this house is not in the cleanest or tidiest state. It’s not filthy but I rarely seem to find the time, no it’s not time that’s the problem, it’s my inclination to ignore the dust and piles of magazines and stuff until they reach a stage where I have to do something or Sarah demands I have a blitz on it. Even then I rarely blitz more than one room at a time. Last night I cleaned your bedroom and Debbie’s so they’re not too bad, but probably not up to your standard. Sarah keeps suggesting I pay a cleaner to come in once a week, but I’ve been reluctant to have someone come in when I’m at work. How about, you pay for your accommodation by keeping the house reasonably clean and tidy, we split the cost of food equally between us and we share the cooking? I know you’ll have extra expenses in the next few days because of Debbie changing schools and replacing some of the worn-out stuff we didn’t bring, so you’ll be my guest until the end of the month, no charge.” After more argument, she finally agreed to my terms although she insisted on paying me back for this month when she could.

With a full stomach and tired from ‘helping’ to load the van, Debbie slept through to 5:00 then woke with a scream and came running into my room. “Where’s my Mummy? Have they taken her?” Gathering her in my arms I carried her into her mother’s room. Grace, already out of bed and making her way to us, took Debbie from me. Perhaps it wasn’t the most appropriate time, but I saw more of Grace’s body through her threadbare nightie, than she would normally have shown. Her pert breasts pushed the thin material out and I saw the darker outline of her areola and the dark patch of her pubic mound. Rather than embarrass her, I left.

We spent Saturday in a whirlwind of activity, unpacking, storing, getting groceries and a baby car seat, but at the end of a day in close contact with Grace, I thought her animosity, or perhaps, mistrust, of me diminished a little, especially as Debbie and I got on well together. Sarah popped round and invited us to lunch on Sunday and without thinking I accepted. That angered Grace when I told her. “Are you my boss now that you can make decisions for me? Are you really thinking that I’m now your wife? I’ve told you that I will not become your little slave girl so stop telling me what to do.”

I phoned Sarah and cancelled. “You’ve been together for just one day, and already you’re fighting, perhaps you should have seduced her to your home instead of kidnapping the poor girl.” I could hear the laughter in her voice. “Tell you what, we’ll come to yours and have lunch. If you cut that meadow you call a lawn and make sure the barbecue is working, I’ll bring the food we were going to have here.” Grace looked at me with a sour expression when I told her, but said nothing.

Paul had obviously been primed or threatened to be on his best behaviour with Debbie because, after initial shyness at being forced to hug her, they chased around the lawn and, when they became tired of that, Paul asked if they could play on ‘his’ computer. ‘His’ computer, my outdated one, had children’s games on and kept him away from the one I used. He looked a bit sullen when I told him he’d have to share it with Debbie now but when I checked on them later, they played happily enough and at lunchtime I found them both watching a DVD on the TV. “I had to show her how to use it Uncle Roy,” Paul told me proudly, “They’ve never had TV.”

Grace too became caught in the infectious banter, mainly between Sarah and me, but David joined in and for the first time she seemed happy to be with us.

A daddy now

Two weeks later, most of the firm thought Grace and I were as good as married, yet we still slept in separate rooms and, although the doors were always open in case Debbie woke, neither of us ventured into the other’s room. Of course, Madge was largely behind the spreading of the rumour that we were more than friends. Grace had to notify her change of address and once we’d got Debbie a place in the same school as Paul, we dropped her off at Sarah’s in the morning and Grace came to work in the car with me and managed to get an extra hour’s work. We’d become closer to each other and at home, shared the cooking, and like many married couples, I looked after the outside work while she cleaned inside but the tasks overlapped. At least Grace stopped complaining about my doing too much for them and began to accept that she was with me to stay and even allowed me to take Debbie to a couple of school events.

Debbie’s school life too, improved considerably. Some bullying and comments on her face still occurred but the teachers were more in control and generally stamped on it before it became serious. Yes, we were a family except that I didn’t cuddle or kiss or sleep with Grace and that irked me a little. I realised that I’d forced myself on her but after having made her life so much easier and better, I would have liked some return. I enjoyed her company and that of Debbie and I think they liked me too but always an invisible barrier came between us whenever I got close to her.

It came as a complete surprise, when out of the blue one evening, Debbie asked, “Uncle Roy, will you be my daddy instead of uncle?” Grace looked up too but Debbie blundered on, “Paul’s got a daddy who lives with him, so does Kathy Gingham and Betty Fowler, will you be mine?”

“That depends on your mother,” I countered, “There’s more to it that just living in the same house.”

“Yes, I know that you have to sleep in the same bed like Paul’s mummy and daddy.” Grace and I had to fight to control our laughter and she said that she’d think about it. Debbie took that as a ‘yes’ and thereafter called me ‘Daddy’ and Grace didn’t correct her too often.

A few nights later, Debbie came into my bedroom and woke me at 4:40. “Mummy’s door is shut tight so I’m going to sleep with you, Daddy.” Tossing Polly the panda on the bed, she scrambled up and snuggled down in my arms. I wondered why Grace’s door was closed and if she did it accidentally or on purpose. Eventually I drifted off to sleep again for an hour.

5:45 I woke again and decided to see if Grace had opened her door again. It wasn’t and from inside I could hear her crying. Gently I knocked and when I didn’t get a reply, opened the door and went in. “What’s the matter Grace?” She knew I was there because the light through the doorway fell across the bed but it took several minutes before she answered.

“This night…the fire…Derek…” Suddenly sitting up, she threw her arms around my neck and held me tightly, but continued to sob. I couldn’t find any words of comfort but clasped her to me and lay down beside her. Gradually she calmed but continued to hold me and I risked kissing her. Finally she kissed me back and I slid under the covers. It didn’t feel right that I should take advantage of her grief on the anniversary of her husband’s death, although my erection had no such qualms, instead I continued to cuddle and caress her back and bottom until she opened her legs and positioned her slit against the end of my prick.

A panda hit my back and a voice squealed, “Oh there you are! Both in the same bed, you can really be my daddy now!”

Finis