ONE
Nineteen, a virgin and only being kissed by relatives, it's probable Mira Bergen registers a minus on the mythical scale local males use when discussing the sexuality of the town's woman folk.
Clearly, Mira will have been off the scale with the former undertaker's widow Mrs Jarvis (98), the hell and brimstone clergywoman Martha Williams (66) and the repatriated double axe murderess, Jean Blundell (43), having served her prison term overseas and now living back in her birthplace, fortified in her parent's home.
Mira's parents have tried almost everything and everybody including sex stimulants, a health farm, hypnosis and a psychiatrist without any advance in the socialization of their daughter. Even they don't particularly like her.
Evan Bergen owns and operates the town's leading supermarket, so money has been no problem. They decided to send Mira to a commune in a foreign country for a year with right to buy further residency priveleges for US$10,000 a year for a further 10 years.
The astute Mr Bergen estimated that by then his daughter would be cured by modern medicine, or she would be addicted to communal living and would refuse to return home or he'd be in the cemetery, no longer having to shoulder the problem.
A week before the initial payment was due to be paid to the commune, the supermarket owner heard about the Human Restoration Institute (HRI), a research-based company attached to the Human Development Department of the Maygrove University in a city almost one hundred miles to the south of Riddick Wells, where the Bergen's lived.
Five days later the contract with the commune was returned unsigned along with a $200 donation and a contract signed with HRI for $30,000 dollars, success guaranteed. Mr and Mrs Bergen and Mira had been interviewed extensively at the Institute's national headquarters and this project was the kind of challenge the Institute was seeking.
Walt Mitchell was assigned to the case and instructed to base himself in an apartment in Riddick Wells. This historic towns provides water for irrigation of farmland and cropland up to 150-miles away.
[With such a dreary introduction to Mira's plight, its little wonder she was having difficulty getting her bushel plundered. However, everything changed with the arrival of Walt].
TWO
A police squad car chased Walt Mitchell on his Harley Davidson into the cark park of Bergen's Supermarket. Officer Bayfield promptly issued Mitchell with a speeding ticket. Mitchell tore up the ticket and was issued another for littering.
Mr Bergen rushed out with a big pack of steaks, spoke to Officer Bayfield who withdrew the two traffic offence notices and took the steaks home to Mrs Bayfield.
"A very inauspicious arrival, Mitchell."
"Hi, you must be Bergen. I'm Walt and have come to remodel your daughter."
"I beg your pardon!"
"What for?
"No, young man, I mean your attitude and whole demeanor. It's bordering on being barbaric."
"We at the Institute can bring you up to speed as a citizen of the 21st century, Evan, but it will cost you. People haven't used words like inauspicious or demeanor since 1960 perhaps, except when doing old crossword puzzles or playing Scrabble."
"I'm afraid, sir, I cannot tolerate this. I shall insist you be recalled and a replacement sent."
"Please yourself, Sir, but it will cost you another $30,000 for a new contract plus a $60,000 penalty payment for the premature termination of my contract with you. I would appreciate your check for ninety grand immediately."
"I...er...we...well. I have no objection to you continuing."
"What discount do I get at your supermarket, Evan?"
"Eighty per cent, does that sound acceptable?"
"Nudge it to ninety, Evan, and then we have a deal."
"Done."
"Evan, within a month every young buck in the neighborhood will be lining up wanting to fuck your daughter.
"Evan, EVAN!
"Hey you guys, help me with Mr Bergen. He appears to have passed out for some reason."
A family conference was held around Evan's bed that evening, where he was recovering. Evan had warned his wife June to agree to everything; he didn't want another heart attack scare.
So, Mira went off to live in Walt's apartment for a month. She would continue working on weekdays at the supermarket in charge of payroll. Walt would work at the Institute on a reduced six-hour day so he could return to be home when Mira finished work.
In the nicest possible way June had asked Walt was it appropriate for Mira to live in the apartment without Mira having a chaperone.
"Why?"
"Because she's a young woman and there's such a thing as proprietary."
"Has Mira ever been fucked?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because there are problems."
"Then do you think I'm going to fuck Mira?"
"No, but please don't use that word."
"Then is we don't do, there's no problem, is there?"
"No, I see what you mean and thank you for not using that word."
"Mira, is it okay for you to live in my apartment without a chaperone?"
"It's very acceptable. If you can effect change I'd like you to have the first one."
"Mira!"
"I didn't use the word that bothers you mother."
Walt rode off on the Harley to the apartment after it was arranged that Mrs Bergen would drive Mira over after supper with her possessions.
Walt inspected the apartment but wasn't overly impressed. He looked out of the kitchen window straight into the kitchen of an apartment on the other side of a small playground. A woman aged about thirty was washing dishes nude to the waist and eating biscuits. Every so often she would brush crumbs off her amazing pair of tits.
Looking up she saw Walt watching, grabbed the curtains and pulled them wider to improve his view. The woman's man arrived alongside her and attempted to slam the curtains shut, pulling the whole assembly off the wall. Walt was left thinking his apartment did have some appeal.
Walt decided to interview Mira at length that evening as she did not have to go to work next morning, Saturday.
While waiting, Walt drafted his Strategic Plan:
1. Restore Mira within seven days.
2. Fuck Mira for 21 days.
3. Get Bergen to sign off contract completion on 30th day.
His client arrived with her mother
"Oh, she'd not sleeping in your bedroom?" June Bergen said in surprise.
"No, such a decision will face her as her restoration progresses."
"Restoration from what?"
"Abnormality."
"Oh, very good. I shall go now. Bye Mira."
Mother and daughter did not kiss, did not touch at all. Abnormality obviously was deep-set.
"Okay, Mira. Let's have a good look at you."
Her black hair looked as if had been cut in the supermarket's butchery, makeup was non-existent.
The first promising thing was her eyes β dark green and surprisingly confident. Mouth good, very wide and lips were full. Chin was good, obviously she had tits, belly was flat, horrible dress was too long to see her knees, ankles were slim and shoes looked as if they were salvaged from a trash can.
"Strip off and let's have a very good look at you, Mira β unless you have objections."
"No, that's fine."
"I'll go and get coffee while you shed your gear β black or white."
"Black, one sugar. Always."
"Right, that's one enquiry we don't have to have again," said Walt, finding that a promising start. Also her lack of concern at being asked to disrobe heartened him.
He re-entered the room with the coffee and almost dropped the cups. She was starkers, facing him, with a beautiful set of 34C's, possibly D's, erect and very firm. But it wasn't those that grabbed him β she was fully shaved. Why did she go in for such time consuming personal housekeeping when nobody was dipping into the honey pot?
"Turn around please Mira."
He concluded the ass was great; the legs almost sensational.
"Great ass and your legs are almost sensational."
"Are they? I wouldn't know. I have no comparison as no-one ever sees me like this."
"No-one?"
"Absolutely not."
"Get dressed Mira, and thank you."
"Would it be okay if I just wear knickers?"
"Yep," said Walt, not surprised that he felt a bit of movement behind his zip. She possessed one of those slightly swollen honey pots with only a tinniest bit of labia showing β a honey pot just made for early lunch, late supper or even a pre-breakfast chew.
He handed Mira her coffee and noticed the strong smell of stale urine and perspiration.
"How often do you shower, Mira?"
"About once a month."
"Bath?"
"Never."
"Wash?"
"When I notice dirt on my hands or face. Is that normal?"
"No, but we'll start working on that tonight."
"How often do you change your panties?"
Before she said it, Walt anticipated her answer.