NOTE:
My apologies to my readers for the earler submittal of this story. I prematurely submitted the story without prior proofreading and later discovered several errors. Following is my edited submittal.
PROLOGUE:
Many of those who have read my true stories about Carole's life have asked how she became so submissive to the demands of any man—in other words, why was she so 'easy' sexually. I decided that I should try to reveal what I thought was the actual beginning of her sexual being; her proclivity to exhibit the 'round-heels syndrome' before her lover for several years turned her into the slut she so willingly became when she was in her early twenties. The following is a true account of the events as she related to me a year after the actual event.
Carole Ann Roth was an enigma to anyone who first observed her. An enigma in that despite her physical development her mental development lagged behind. Physically she was developed like a very young Pamela Anderson with a very impressive chest by the time she was fourteen. That development only improved with each year, her breasts continuing to grow but with the resilience of youth keeping them from sagging. The size of her breasts were further enhanced by the narrowness of her waist; an enviable eighteen inches that flared into very womanly hips; hips that promised possible child-bearing ease, although such a possibility was not on the mind of any man who surveyed her figure. Completing the sexiness of her figure was what many preferred to call her "bubble-butt"—the globes of her ass appearing round and firm, inviting at least a pinch or squeeze. When a person got around to looking at Carole's head they were usually further impressed by her facial beauty; brilliant blue eyes on a symmetrical face with pouty full lips, lips that seemed to promise a sensual delight by their softness. Then there was her hair; hair the color of golden wheat with natural curves and waves, hair that could also equal in color and depth of pure clover honey. Surprisingly, all of this perfection was compressed into a mere four-feet, eleven inches. Her diminutive size making her appear many years younger than her true age, despite her womanly development.
That was Carole's physical side. One could almost say it was physical perfection depending on their definition. That near-perfection wasn't equaled in Carole's intelligence, however. To say that she was 'slow' would be a kind appraisal in actuality. Not that Carole was an idiot by any sense, but once a person got to know her they became aware that her mental faculties in no way equaled her physical. That shortcoming was why Carole accepted the quarter contained in the folded-up note she received from one of her male classmates in her sixth-grade class without understanding the intent of the note or why she was being given a quarter. In her defense, the note wasn't all that specific in it's crude wording and didn't warn of any consequences of accepting the enclosed quarter for her. The note was passed to her by another student sitting next to Carole right before the class ended, so Carole didn't have a chance to read it until she was standing in line in the cafeteria.
As she waited patiently in the long line, Carole unfolded the note and was surprised when the quarter fell into her hands. She looked at it curiously and then turned her attention to the note, scrawled in pencil. Silently, Carole read the note..."Carill, meet me and Eddie at the brige after skool so we can f--- you. Here is 25 cents. Bobby". Carole may have been a little slow, but at least she knew how to spell her name! "It's C-A-R-O-L-E," she murmured, paying no attention to the other misspellings in the note. She couldn't comprehend what Bobby meant by the 'f---' in the note, but she was sure it must be that he wanted a kiss as he had blown her a kiss several times in the past. Carole thought it would be nice to be kissed by the best looking boy in her class, so she was walking on air knowing he liked her. Seeing that she was approaching the steam table, Carole stuffed the note and the quarter in her front pocket and picked up a tray from the stack.
Carole thought no more of the note through the rest of her day at school, stumbling her way through the English and History classes without, thankfully, being called upon by either teacher. She was always terrified that she would be called to answer some question or other, knowing full well that she wouldn't know the answer, whatever it might be. Carole remembered the note when, just as she was getting ready to board the school bus for the ride home, Bobby tapped her on the shoulder and asked, "you get my note?"
Carole turned as she started up the steps and replied nonchalantly, "uh-huh. Thanks for the quarter." Carole then walked down the aisle of the bus and sat down beside Becky, one of the few girls with who she was able to communicate and one who always treated her nicely. Not like most of the other girls Carole knew. She looked up as Bobby and Eddie walked past her seat and saw Eddie give her a big wink before he and Bobby settled into a seat across the aisle and slightly behind where she sat.
As the bus began to move Carole heard Eddie ask Bobby, "think she'll do it?"
"Sure. She'll do it. She kept the quarter." Bobby bragged.
Bobby's remark about the quarter puzzled Carole, but not understanding what the boys were talking about she thought no more about it as her and Becky engaged in conversation about their school day and the normal girl gossip about other kids in the school. The bus ride for Carole was a short one as they only had a five-mile trip from the school to the point where the bus let her and a few others off near the corner of Las Olas Boulevard and Hendricks Island.
As all of the other dropped-off riders except Carole, Eddie and Bobby walked back down Las Olas to their respective neighborhoods, Bobby stepped up beside Carole and suggested, "c'mon. Come see our hideout."
Carole looked at Bobby confused, "wh-what? What hideout?"
Eddie stepped to Carole's other side and explained, "you know, the place where we hang out. Like a club."
"Yeh, a club," Bobby added. "It's our secret place."
"Uh, uh, I dunno know," Carole hesitated. "I have to get home."
"Ah, it'll only take a minute," Bobby argued. "You'll like it. No one else knows it's there."
"Oh, okay," Carole acquiesced. "For just a little, though."
"This way," Bobby motioned with a devilish grin on his face as he turned to take a slightly worn path down beside the edge of the bridge toward the canal below.
Carole didn't hesitate any longer; now curious about this 'secret place' the boys had referred to as she followed Bobby down the narrow path with Eddie right behind her. Once the trio got to the bottom of the path, Carole could see that there was a small opening in the bridge wall right before the wall met the edge of the canal wall.
Bobby stood to the side of the wall and motioned for Carole to come closer. "Come see, Carole. See our place?"
Carole stepped up to where the hole began and stooped down to look inside. She could see that the bank sloping up from the canal met the overhead concrete bridge forming a sandy landing right beneath the bridge. Just as she started to straighten up, Bobby pushed on her back, "go ahead. Go in, Carole." He pushed harder until Carole did as instructed, placing her books ahead of herself as she crawled through the narrow opening, Bobby now pushing on her behind until she reached the point where she was able to stand beneath the bridge. Carole watched as the two boys crawled through the opening and then walked to the edge of the bank and looked out at the waterway. She could see the expensive homes on each side of the canal, complete with boat docks and boats of various sizes as far as she could see. The view wasn't anything new to Carole for she lived in an apartment building her parents owned that fronted on another waterway a little further up the boulevard. She had even enjoyed boating on the several waterways that spread out like fingers from Las Olas, so she wasn't overly impressed by Bobby's so-called "secret place".
Just as Carole was starting to turn back from the bank, Bobby walked up to her and, putting an arm around her shoulders, suggested, "Why don't we sit down and watch for boats, Carole?"
"Nah, I better get home, Bobby. My mom's going to be wondering where I'm at."
