TOTALLY SOFTCORE - if that doesn't suit your fancy, you've been warned. This is a one-off, but I suppose could lead to more adventures. I have other work stringing, so we'll just see how the reaction is. :)
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"If I had to guess, no one has been in this house for over forty years, Dan. Maybe more."
"That's saying a lot, calling it a house, Cheryl."
Dan and I were currently inside an old, abandoned home, something more akin to a "hobble" than a house. Little was left of the roof, and many of the walls were crumbling. Located literally "in the middle of nowhere" in the mountains of Arkansas, this rare find was going to be a big hit for our social media channel. Though the small house was falling apart, there were still pieces of furniture and interesting nicknacks from long-ago generations. It even once had electricity, but the poles leading up to the place were fallen long ago.
Dan and I toured the country filming abandoned homes and sites for over three years now. With over half a million followers to our "abandonment porn" channel, our odd hobby funded itself. On two occasions, we discovered antiques that held notable value, too. "Hey, what's this?" I asked, pointing to a hatch, cut out in the floor of the kitchen.
"Dunno. Maybe goes under the floor for plumbing? Or a basement down there?"
Working together, we lifted the wooden cut-out from the floor, revealing a ladder leading down. Dan turned on a flashlight and pointed it down the hole. "Hey, Cheryl, there's a big room down here. And furniture. From like the '50s maybe?"
"Really?" I asked, excitedly. I loved it when we found something so unexpected. "Let's go down."
A minute later, Dan and I were both inside, pointing our flashlights in every direction. In one corner was a fancy, upholstered chair next to an old-fashioned radio. An early-model, electric lamp sat on a stool nearby. "Wouldn't it be great if this worked?" snickered Dan, as he flicked on the lamp's switch. Like magic, the bulb lit up. Dan jumped back. "What the fuck?"
"There's electricity down here?" I gasped, bewildered. There was another lamp on the other side of the room, and without hesitating, I clicked the rusted button. Sure enough, it also worked, brightening the place.
"I'll be damned," said Dan. "Are we getting this?" He checked his body-cam and pulled out his hand-held. He began running down the sequence of events that led us here. Once satisfied with filming, he turned to me, and I made a note.
"This is really strange, Dan. There aren't any cobwebs, or much dust. It's like we stepped into somebody's parlor room in 1950."
"An early version of the man cave," whispered Dan. "Like I have back home, with my game room."
I rolled my eyes, but he had a point. Along with the phonograph machine and radio, there were books and magazines scattered everywhere. Even a dartboard. Out of curiosity, I walked over to the radio and switched the knob over. Static and a light whistling sound came through, the tubes warming up, I guess. Then a clear radio voice came through. In fact, several voices. It sounded like something my grandfather used to have me listen to when I was a kid. The radio plays and live broadcasts of days gone by.
Dan and I looked at each other in disbelief. We both took a closer look at the machine, wondering if there were records, tapes, or even a digital hard drive, that was stored in it, making it play old broadcasts. It was a perfectly normal, albeit fancy, radio, for its day.
"This is really weird, Cheryl" whispered Dan, as we listened to the broadcast. It seemed to be in the middle of a commercial. A man's voice was talking.
~"Ladies, don't ever go without NewBlue Cookware. The strongest, safest, aluminum cookware on the market."
"I won't use anything else, Paul," cried a woman's voice.
"And you shouldn't, Betty!" boomed the man. "Not only are they long-lasting, they're very nice on the pocketbook. And don't forget, buy an entire six-piece set, and get our free, complimentary NewBlue apron."
"Oh, I just love the apron," responded the woman.
"And we love it on you! Wouldn't want to risk a cooking accident on those lovely melons of yours, Betty!"
My brother and I looked at each other fast. Did we just hear that right? The woman on the radio laughed, as the host finished his pitch. I clicked it off. "This has to be a joke," I said.
Dan scratched his head. "Look at all these books and magazines." He picked one of them up. "Good Enough to Eat," he read the title aloud, then turning the cover of the book to me. It wasn't about cooking, as I would have guessed. Instead, it was of an illustrated woman, spread out, legs open, seductive. The magazines were mostly men's adventure rags, the covers filled with images of naked women in distress.
"I have to get all this on film," said Dan. He picked his camera back up, and began aiming, but then pulled it away, smacking it a bit. He checked the battery light. "What the hell? Battery says three-quarters full on the meter, but it's giving me a dead battery message when I try to record. He quickly switched it out, experiencing the problem again. "Fuck, of all the times the camera has to crap on us." He pulled at his body cam. "No way! It's not lit up. Check yours."
"Maybe it's something in this room," I said. "Mine's dead, too. If some chemical, or weird thing, is messing with the electronics, maybe we best get out of here," I warned. "I've heard of radioactive material being in the strangest of places."
"Good idea. We'll bring a Geiger Counter with us when we come back." Of course, Dan wanted to get more film footage. This was going to be gold on our channel.
"Okay, but yeah, this is a bit creepy."
Quickly, we turned off the radio and lights and made our way back to the ladder in the dark. Climbing up, Dan pushed on the hatch. I instantly heard a scream and Dan jumped back, the hatch dropping back down. "What the fuck?" he whisper-screamed to me.
Instantly, the hatch was thrust open, bringing light upon us, a large, gruff-looking man standing above. "Just what the hell are you two doing down there?"
"I am so sorry, sir," Dan began apologizing profusely, his hands up, while he balanced on the ladder above me. "We thought we were in an abandoned home."
"Abandoned?" boomed the man. "Are you trying to insult me, boy?"
"No sir, not at all. Please, allow us to come up and explain."
"You better!"
The man sounded angry, but composed. I was grateful, considering where we were in the high mountains of Arkansas. Homes were few and far apart up here, what little civilization was left. We quickly scrambled up, while Dan kept apologizing, but then he suddenly stopped, as we realized our surroundings had changed.
It was still a small hobble of a home, but everything was completely intact. The kitchen table and chairs, the old-fashioned refrigerator, the oven, everything. At the sink was a woman washing dishes. Shockingly, she was completely naked. The man who pulled us up was wearing overalls, dirty work clothes. He certainly played the role of a logger in the '40s or '50s, and that's exactly what it looked like we stumbled into. A house, with early electricity, way up in the mountains, but it no longer was abandoned.
I turned around to see another woman standing at the door. She, too, was completely naked, with heavy tits, and she couldn't have been over thirty years of age. She must have been the one who screamed when Dan tried to get out. She ran to the door. Now, she was calming down. "Explain yourselves," yelled the man. "Just what were you doing in my secret study?"
"Again, sir, I am so sorry," started Dan, when the man interrupted again.
"And who is she!" he motioned to me. "Why's she dressed like that?"
"Oh, sir, this is my friend, Cheryl. She goes on these adventures with me."
"Adventures? What exactly are you getting at? Come on now. Get out with it." The man had a slightly different verbiage than those I've known. It seemed dated.
Dan smiled and continued trying to calm the man down. "Please, sir. Just allow me to explain. We host a podcast, and have a rather famous streaming channel. You may have heard of it, Disparate Destinations. We film unusual places, such as ghost towns and abandoned hotels."
"What are you babbling about? Abandoned hotels? Here? A pod-what?"
"Not just that, sir. Also, old homes, many long since abandoned."
The man scratched his head. "And you FILM this? Where's your camera?"
Dan pulled out the faulty hand-held, barely bigger than the palm of his hand. The rugged man began laughing hysterically. "Now, come on, mister. Don't take me for a fool. I don't know what it is, but it sure enough, ain't big enough, to be a camera!"
"No, look," Dan insisted, powering it on, but when he went to play clips, the screen just flashed the battery button.
"Looks fancy, but that ain't no camera. I got one, you know." The man seemed very proud of himself. "But it's just a picture camera. Now, tell me. Where are you from, and why is SHE got all the get-up on?"
Dan looked to me, then the two naked girls in the room, and began connecting the dots. "Oh, sir. I think you must be mistaken. Cheryl isn't my girlfriend. She's like a sister to me."
The man scowled at Dan. "What's your name, son?"
"Oh, yes. It's Dan Hastings. This is Cheryl Smith."
The man pulled himself high, towering above Dan. He certainly had the body of a lumberjack. "Well, Dan, my name is James Robert Weaver, and I may not have much to my name, but even in my meager place, you respect the rules, just like you would anywhere else."
"Um, I'm sorry? I don't foll-"
"That girl had BETTER take of those rags this very minute, or you're gonna find yerself in a pile of broken bones outside my doorstep, son!"
Dan was trembling, looking to me, mouthing, "Please help?" His eyes were wide open in fear. Not knowing what else to do, I began unbuttoning my shirt. My pants were tight, and it took a moment of struggling to peel out of them. I won't deny that Dan is liberal with getting clips of my butt in some of the shots. Kind of our shtick.
"Thank you," Dan whispered, as I popped off my bra and panties. Now, I was trembling.
"Was that so hard?" said James, pulling off of Dan, as if he'd done more of the work than me. "Allow me to introduce my sister, Eileen, and my wife, Sue Ellen."
I wasn't clear on which naked woman was which, but logged their names in my brain. "Nice to meet you," I said, hoping a gentle approach was best.
The man seemed to lighten up and reached out to shake my hand. It seemed surreal trying to stay pleasant to a man who forced me to go naked.
"I do think it's brave of her," said one of the women, the one at the sink.
