I am resubmitting the 6R story, with a title and category change.
Originally named 6R, it was posted in the Literotica's Novels and Novellas category. In this submission it is Campaign 6R.
The story would fit in multiple categories and I picked Novels and Novellas for 6R.
That may have not been a good choice, receiving less attention. Campaign 6R shall appear in Sci-Fi and Fantasy category.
Another change was the individual submission configuration. 6R was submitted in its entirety in one go. I like this story format but received critical critique on my choice. Looking at the selection of other stories on Literotica, it was apparent that most were offered in single chapter arrangement.
I will be submitting one or two chapters of Campaign 6R per week, in the Sci-Fi and Fantasy category.
Campaign 6R is a book length, 34 chapter story. Chapters are not meant to stand alone as a completed story, but rely on the previous chapters and support the following ones.
If you cannot wait for the next installment you can go to 6R in the Novels and Novellas and binge. If you have already read 6R, I thank you.
There a few very minor changes, hopefully improvements, in grammar, punctuation, and words, but Campaign 6R is the same story as 6R. It has the same theme, characters, ideas, scenes, situations, context and content.
Hope you enjoy Campaign 6R.
Live Large!
BoCur
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Campaign 6R Chapter 1
The weatherman forecast storms overnight and the dark, late afternoon sky, threatened rain. It matched the emotions enveloping us as I opened the door of my truck and helped my sister inside.
Closing the door I went around and got into the driver's seat to head home from our parent's funeral. Their sudden, horrible, unexpected death, a hydroplaning car crash, had wrecked our world.
Di was curled up in a ball, leaning against the door, weeping silently, distraught, full of woe, fear and disquietude. My heart wrenched at her hurt. The loss of loved ones was hard on me but so much so for Di. I reached out and rubbed her hip.
She uncurled, turning to me, leaning her cheek against my shoulder and sobbed, full of despair.
My two toned, silver and black, the colors of my favorite NFL team, the Raiders, 2016 Ford 150 had a bench front seat so after pulling away from the cemetery I put my arm around her, pulling her close, hoping to give some comfort and assurance.
I said, "I love you Di. Don't worry. I'm going to take care of you."
Di was my lovely, 18 year old sister, or rather step sister.
Mary Haynes Vancy and William Jules Vancy, my parents, having unsuccessfully tried for years to have a child, adopted one, less than a year old, me, Jules Haynes Vancy. Four years later Mama conceived and Mary Godiva Vancy was born.
Mama named her after the beautiful, independent activist, Lady Godiva, an 11th century noblewoman who was troubled by the crippling taxes her husband, a powerful Lord, levied on the citizens. She repeatedly implored for him to lessen the burden, to which he ignored. Finally in response to her incessant supplications he agreed to lower taxes if she rode naked on horseback through the center of Coventry.
Determined, Lady Godiva undressed, climbed on her white horse and rode through the market square with only her long flowing hair covering naked beauty. After finishing, Godiva demanded her husband hold up his end of the bargain. True to his word, Lord Coventry reduced the people's debts.
Mama announced, lying in the hospital bed as Di, as I called her, suckled, was going to be like her namesake, beautiful, strong, smart, independent and a social reformer.
Sadly not all was accurate. A lovely, healthy and otherwise vibrant baby, she incurred a brain injury during birth.
Mama had a medical issue called a breech birth. Di came out bottom first instead of head first, as is normal. The danger of breech birth is due to the fact the largest part of a baby is its head. When the breech baby's hips deliver first, it may result in a baby getting stuck in the birth canal, which can cause injury or death.
Di's oxygen deprived brain suffered damage. At first problem was not apparent, she was a happy, loving and active toddler and child. But as time went, it was evident she was not developing intellectually as she should.
Mama and Daddy took her for many exams, tests and studies at prestigious facilities from well recognized experts. The common prognosis was Di probably would never progress, mentally, much farther than the age of a normal child of 12 years old. They said the lobes of her brain were still healthy but the neural pathways were blocked. Any messages sent were not received.
She was not retarded, no, just,... well,... I know no other way to put it... slow. This sounds derogatory but that is certainly not my intention. Anyone who spoke of her this way, insultingly, would have a fight on their hands. A better description would be a sweet, innocent, beautiful woman whose mind was permanently stalled at preteen.
The medical profession has a name for it, Intellectual Disability, describing those with limited intellectual functioning (learning, problem solving, judgement) and adaptive functioning (activities of daily life).
Her IQ was measured at 68. IQ stands for intelligence quotient, measuring the general ability to solve problems and understand concepts. This includes reasoning, problem solving, ability to perceive relationships between things and the ability to store and retrieve information.
She had attended Pre-School, Kindergarten and 1st grade without issues, but during the 2nd grade with the increasing social and intellectual demands, problems started to show.
Mama decided she would home school Di and me. A real estate agent, she dropped everything, concentrating her time and energy on Di. At an early age I exhibited signs of high intelligence and assisted Mama in Di's tutelage.
Just looking at Di you could not discern any issue, appearing to be a happy, healthy teenager. But that observation was not likely to happen. At about ten years of age Di developed a severe phobia, Anthropophobia, the extreme, irrational and unwarranted fear of people. Her anxiety would skyrocket around people other than Mama, Daddy and me.
Di did not want to leave the house and if she did, every effort was made for her to have no or very limited interaction with people. Some were unavoidable, doctor's visits and such for which she was given an oral sedative beforehand. I had given her a strong dose before the funeral.
Mama and Daddy, although spiritual, were not into formal religious trappings. They did not belong to or attend any church. Given this, Di's situation, along with the fact it would have been closed caskets, our parents had been horribly burned, I declined a viewing. I opted only for a graveside service for me and Di, with a paid preacher acquaintance giving a brief eulogy.
Mama and Daddy had no family and given Di's condition, were not socially active. What few friends they had understood and respected my decision.
We arrived at Mama and Daddy's walled, 1247 acre estate, twenty miles out of town.
They were or had been, independently wealthy. Mama had inherited a small fortune and Daddy, an inventor, had patented and sold a couple of his inventions to oil companies for off shore drilling. He also invested early in U.S. technology stock equities and had got out, after amassing a huge profit, before the dotcom bubble burst. He reinvested heavily in stable companies, Microsoft, Amazon, Apple, etc.,. They and he were very successful.
They purchased the property and developed it with the intentions of giving Di the opportunity to get out of the house, to exercise and enjoy nature without risk of encountering anyone.
During my youth it also provided me a grand place for exploration, adventure and fun. Natural science always attracted me and I had a large area to satisfy the allure. During most of reconnoiters Di was by my side.
The estate was entirely enclosed by a twelve foot high, two foot thick, brick, stone and concrete wall. A single, keypad operated, heavy steel gate, allowed ingress and egress at the 20 foot wide macadam drive entrance. An intercom allowed those requesting entrance to notify the house. The security system's multiple gate cameras displayed the requester.
Pulling up to the closed gate I pressed a remote control attached to my key ring and the heavy gate smoothly slid into its recess. I pulled through and onto the estate, closing the gate behind.
A ten foot wide macadam walking or running track circled the property just inside the wall. Wild forest and field encompassed a 34 acre, deep, cold, clear, spring fed lake and surrounded a manicured 10 acre lawn with trees, shrubs and flowers, fountains, a koi pond, statuary, topiary, gazebo, greenhouse, garden with the house in the center.
A fully equipped gym was housed in the pool building containing a shower, spa, sauna and dressing room. The pool building fronted an Olympic sized swimming pool, hot tub and sundeck.
Upkeep on the grounds and the pool was maintained by a local landscaping company. In consideration for Di's phobia, the contract was for one specific day a week only.
The long, mature spruce tree lined, P shaped drive ended at a modest appearing house, considering the rest of the estate. It was a spacious, one story, four bedroom, four bath, brick ranch with an attached four car garage. There were wide porches, front and back.
Inside the house was a different story. Every furnishing, accommodations and accoutrements was luxury, top of the line. The kitchen was commercial equipped. Installed in the office was state of the art electronic, digital equipment.
There was an underground safe room where Di could retreat when there were visitors, house cleaning staff, or yard and pool maintenance workers. The concealed entrance was in a large walk-in closet at the end of the bedroom hall.
Behind a line of clothes, hung on a movable rack, was a thick, solid steel door, opening inward which could not be locked from outside, only from the inside with a steel bar.
