"Delicate, gentle, and sweet" were words used to describe the Persian-derived name of Shireen, and they all applied to Shireen Chow, a vision of loveliness. She was of half-Chinese and half-Japanese descent and had inherited the finest qualities of her Asian ancestries.
Her fragile oval face was dominated by captivating rounded sparkling-brown eyes that were elegantly highlighted by a thin line of mascara along and then flipped up the outside corner of her double-eyelids. A casual lob hairstyle of her brunette hair framed Shireen's sculpted cheekbones, a small straight nose, and an inviting pair of lips. At five-feet-four, Shireen had a willowy build that emphasized her small breasts, trim waist, modest hips, and slender but shapely legs, giving her a certain grace that made her seem ultra-feminine.
Yet, despite her physical attributes, what made Shireen attractive was that she never sought to flaunt or even emphasize her natural beauty. She was endearingly unpretentious, genuinely kind and caring, and pleasant to all. In many ways, Shireen was the proverbial "girl next door" to her family, friends, and co-workers. Perhaps she was this way because she was highly religious, attended church regularly, taught Sunday school, and participated in many faith-based activities. While Shireen was just being her plain old self, many regarded her as an angel on earth.
To everyone, that is, except for me. To me, Shireen was very inexperienced, extremely naïve, and unbelievably gullible...and ripe for the picking and eating.
I'm Marty, a mix-breed mongrel of a whoring mother and an unknown father. As you can tell, I grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, living on the streets by my wits and determination from a young age. At just under six-feet tall, I was a lean and very mean kid who started with the simple hijacking of neighborhood kids, petty theft, brawling, shakedowns, and eventually to using and pushing illegal drugs. It was the latter activity that got me busted on a sting operation and spending two years behind bars for illegal possession and promotion.
Due to severe prison overcrowding, I was given a chance as a first-offender to get out early if I attended and completed a residential substance abuse program, found a job and a place to live, underwent random drug testing, and kept scheduled appointments with my probationary officer (PO) for at least a year. Having to choose between bedbugs, poor food, scary inmates, and abusive correctional officers, or the possibility of freedom and the outside world was a no-brainer.
Making it through the rehab program, the drug testing, and my assigned PO were a breeze. All I had to do was look like I was really into turning a new leaf, say what was expected, stay sober and clean, and keep a low-profile until I got off probation. My problem, however, was finding employment and a place to shack up.
Fortunately, the rehab program partnered with a lot of social agencies, community groups, and religious organizations that made it part of their mission to help the program graduates. By the luck of the draw, I got a church that was looking for custodian-groundskeeper. While the pastor laid it on heavy that his congregation was there to assist the downtrodden (and although he didn't come out and say it, the sinner) and to lift the beleaguered out of the gutter and onto the path of righteousness. What he failed to mention in his pompous sermon was that he and his church was getting two jobs for one guy and at little more than the minimum wage and some health benefits. I, however, took the offer since it came with a free small one-bedroom cottage that was tucked away in the wooded corner of the sprawling church grounds.
The way I looked at it, I would punch my ticket and appear to walk the straight and narrow. Once I cleared probation and court supervision, it was "See ya later!" with maybe as much as I could secretly snatch from these do-gooders to show them what happens when you mess with the Devil's spawn...namely me.
This plan, however, was immediately revised when I showed up at the church to assume my dual-duties as explained by the pastor. "Oh, Shireen," the pastor called as he looked at someone behind me, "Come here and meet our new custodian-groundskeeper, Marty."
I turned and was instantly paralyzed by Shireen's large brown eyes. "Fuck, yeah!" yelled between my ears. "A bit small and slender but nice nevertheless as judging by the rapidly swelling between my legs! Twenty...maybe twenty-one...but definitely younger than me. Pretty...a sweet lamb...definitely one of these holy-rollers goody-two-shoes...but after two years of no pussy...ummm...and if my cunt-dousing rod is telling me the truth (and it has never failed me yet), there's something about Shireen that screams "Virgin! Innocent clueless virgin!"
"Nice to meet you, Marty," Shireen uttered in a pleasant and almost melodic voice. "I'm glad that you decided to select us. I know that you and I will get all fantastically since I'm the church's secretary and assistant to the Pastor. I look forward to getting to know you better..."
"You can count on that, you bitch," I thought to myself. "You'll get to really know me better when we're doing the horizontal mambo between the sheets with my fat cock breaking in your tight juicy twat...oh, yeah...you can count on it! Heh, heh, heh!"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
My initial assessment of Shireen was accurate - she was very inexperienced and naïve. To achieve my ultimate goal of defiling this picture-perfect vision of goodness and innocence, I had to first gain her confidence. Ironically, Shireen's compelling desire to help poor little me gave me the means to slowly worm my way into her life. Once I was able to gain Shireen's trust, I could gradually use it against her and subtly corrupt her sense of piety and morality.
I made it a point to casually stopping by to chat with Shireen and gradually became part of her daily life. While taking advantage of her Christian nature, I sought to ensnare her by sharing and playing up my sorted past to elicit her pity, concern, and desire to help me. However, unbeknownst to Shireen, I also used my controlled disclosures to size up and learn more about my intended prey.
I was delighted to discover that my initial gut-level feelings were spot-on. Shireen had led an extremely sheltered and religious life that was totally devoid of real-world reality. "My, I marvel at your worldly experience on the street, Marty," sighed Shireen after I had shared an abbreviated and somewhat sanitized version of my life story. "Compared to you, I...well...haven't explored life at all.
"My parents were devout members of the church...and when they unexpectedly passed away...one right after the other...the pastor stepped in to serve as my guardian and church members became my surrogate family. I attended a church-affiliated all-girls boarding school and when I graduated some three years ago, I was fortunate to start working as my church's secretary. But, my goodness, compared to you I have led a rather cloistered life. When you talk about your real-life experiences...I feel...somewhat lacking."
"Shireen, my lifestyle wasn't chosen by me - I was thrown into shark-filled waters either to swim or sink. Be thankful that you didn't have to go through what I went through. The fact that I am alive...after drugs and prison...and have a second chance on life is a miracle in and of itself. I just hope that I don't fall back to my evil ways and lifestyle. It is so hard at times...," I murmured with tongue-in-cheek as I threw out my hook-line-and-bait to see if Shireen would bite.
