Poppa's Progeny

by Alta Hensley

  "Having horses here would be wonderful. I love horses. Ponies, too."

  "You love all animals, Juniper."

  She shook her head. "I don't love spiders. Or snakes. Or bugs. Or any other creepy crawlies. Do you remember that crane fly that flew into my room?"

  "Yes, I remember it. Everyone in the facility heard you screaming and they seemed to think I was killing you, but it was just a crane fly."

  Juniper shuddered. "There's no such thing as just a crane fly, Poppa. They have horrible long legs, and horrible long bodies, and horrible long wings, and they fly about all over the place, and they're horrible." She really could sound like a little girl when she wanted to.

  * * * * *

  She actually did feel like that about crane flies. If there was anything she'd been through that made her feel like she was six years old again, it was crane flies.

  "Who wants a snack?" As Juniper looked over at the snack monitor, she had to stop herself from sighing. They came around three times a day, handing out cookies and milk, which were meant to make her as happy as all the other progenies, but they really didn't. Like she always did, she pulled herself together and bounced over to the snack monitor, just like all the other girls, acting as though she really looked forward to them. Even though she could feel Costello's eyes on her, she didn't look over at him, keeping all of her attention on the snack monitor. "Here you go, Juniper." She got her glass of milk and two cookies before bouncing back carefully to where she had been before.

  "Do you want to share a cookie, Poppa?"

  "No, thank you, Juniper."

  Pouting, she dipped the first of her cookies into the milk, knowing that he would give in eventually, even though he wouldn't want to. She couldn't tell if it was because he cared about her, or whether he just hated to see her pout, the same way the poppa before him had hated it. Luckily, Costello hadn't taken to slapping her across the face every time she did it, as that was probably what had gotten her last poppa fired. Spanking, corner time, and even mouth washing were allowed, but beating and loss of temper were not. In the ten years she'd been at the facility, she'd had twenty-nine different poppas. After a while, they all got tired of looking after women who behaved like children. The time would come when he'd leave her as well, and she'd have to get used to a new poppa. Unless she got adopted to be married first, of course.

  "Why do you pout?"

  "It gets me what I want most of the time." She smiled at him. "The rest of the time it gets me told off, but I don't mind that as long as I have poppas who give me what I want, too."

  "Your last poppa was asked to move on because he was abusing you, wasn't he?"

  Juniper nodded, glancing down at the floor.

  "More than just a spanking?"

  Juniper nodded again, the memory making her feel ill to her stomach.

  "I promise that I will never do that to you, no matter how annoying it becomes when you pout at me."

  She looked up at him and stared into his dark eyes. "But you spank me," she accused.

  He nodded with a smile. "I do, and will continue to do so when deserved." He reached for her chin and held it firm so she had no choice but to stare into his eyes. "But I believe you understand the difference between a spanking and a beating. I would never harm you. I would never take advantage of you. I will never allow you to feel the hand of abuse again." He stared at her in silence for a few moments before releasing her chin.

  "Thank you," she whispered. Costello did seem different to the rest. Very different. She dipped the last of her first cookie into the milk before holding out the second one. "Share?"

  "I'm not hungry, sweetie."

  "Okay…" Hopefully, if she sounded sad enough, he would take the rest of the damn cookie off her. She was certain she'd be sick if she had to have cookies and milk again, which could potentially cause problems. All the other progenies usually devoured their special treat, but even they seemed to be getting tired of the same old snack. "Are you sure?"

  "I'm sure."

  Plan B it was then. She dipped the cookie into the milk until it dropped in. "Oops. Do I still have to drink the milk?"

  * * * * *

  Costello knew he should say yes, but the desperate looks she'd given him when she was offering the cookies told him that she really didn't want them. Maybe he should suggest they change snack time for a little while. Looking around, it was clear she wasn't the only progeny who'd had enough of cookies and milk—the other poppas had told him about the same desperate looks they were getting, so everyone was getting fed up with cookies and milk, not just the one who might not be a progeny. "No, you don't. I'll talk to someone about changing snack time, Juniper, okay?"

  She shook her head, looking terrified. "Why would you do that?"

  "You're all getting fed up of cookies and milk, so maybe it's time we switched to something different. Fruit, maybe, and carrot sticks on alternate days, with fruit juice."

  "We had that before, but they changed it. Cookies and milk were nice for a little while, but then I didn't like it anymore because I'd had too many cookies and too much milk. Saying something about it, though…" Juniper shook her head again. "We don't want to complain. We know you all do a lot of work to look after us. We don't want to be a problem, and so we keep quiet even though we would like something else. Carrot sticks were nice, but they didn't like it when we hid some and gave them to the rabbits. Are we going to see the rabbits soon?" She looked nervous, almost panicked.

  "Just as soon as everyone's finished their snacks. Give me your milk, sweetie, and I'll throw it away for you."

  He was joined by six other poppas doing exactly the same thing. "It's got to change," John, another poppa, sighed. "All this wasted milk."

  "I told Juniper I'd talk to someone about getting it changed. It seems they're getting sick of cookies and milk. They may be mentally young, but it gets boring for them the same as it would for the rest of us. I think we need to get this sorted to make sure that our progenies are happy."

  "They should do something if we all tell them that the progenies have had enough cookies. My little Leanne actually did look like she might be sick, and I don't want that to happen." John shook his head. "I think we should have more control over these things. We're the ones who spend all of our time with them."

  "Yes, but we don't hang around for long enough. Everyone gets fed up eventually—that's what Marie told me, anyway, and I believe her, because this…" Luke, another poppa, looked around. "I don't want to be here some days, even though I do like my progeny in all honesty. It's just too much to deal with, and it's not fair on them to have poppas who feel like that when this, for most of them, wasn't a choice. They got put here by their parents."

  "The parents didn't have a choice," John chimed in. "If I had a daughter right now, I'm not sure I would be able to do anything but send her to a facility as well. The dowry required for normal marriage is just absurd."

  Luke added, "Unless you're the one with the son." He snickered at his own joke when no one else did.

  One thing Costello had promised himself was that he would never do the same to his daughters, no matter how many of them he had. Instead, he'd find someone willing to work with him on a dowry. It wasn't fair to shove them into a facility where they would be made into little girls for an entire decade of their lives, no matter how poor he was.

  Chapter Three

  "Bath time, girls."

  Hiding her hatred of bath time was one of the hardest things for Juniper to do. The poppas didn't bathe the girls, fortunately, otherwise she thought she would already have blown her cover. Some female bath mistress would wash their hair and scrub their back for them. It was the lack of privacy she hated. She had to share the bath with three other girls, none of whom realized they were full grown women playing with rubber ducks and other bath toys. Yet, she went through it every day, waiting until she was alone in her bedroom to cry herself to sleep—as that was the only time she was alone. She glanced over at Costello. Did
she dare confide in him?

  As she bobbled along with the others, doing her best to be happy, and bouncy, and playful, she tried to focus on the good things about the facility. Living there wasn't easy, but she did have a roof over her head, food in her stomach, and the chance of a marriage that she never would have had out in the adult world. Her parents had enough trouble earning enough to feed the two boys they had, so when a girl had come along, the only logical thing for them to do had been to send her to the local facility. Of course Juniper hadn't known then what would happen to her. If she had… well, she still didn't have any choice, really. It was the facility or life on the streets, and life on the streets wasn't an option when you were a young frightened woman.

  Juniper had realized shortly after arriving at the facility, that even if she had left, they would have come after her, not willing to give up on someone they'd invested a lot of time and money in. Of course then they would know that she wasn't the progeny that she was supposed to be, but rather an adult, which would lead to something she'd only ever heard rumors about when she'd caught the ends of conversations the poppas were having. As soon as they realized a progeny was listening in, they'd go quiet, not wanting her to hear what they were saying. Some said that those girls were banished, others said they were killed. The worst rumor was that they would try again; which would fry the brain completely, leaving the woman brain-dead.

  Behind the white, sterile walls and pink accents stood a dark, dangerous, and evil place. The facility housed innocent women who were being used as science projects. On the surface the facilities appeared as a social service to house poor women with no dowry. But deep beneath, the truth was much more sinister. The facility was not what it appeared to be. Juniper knew enough to pretend—or risk being buried with all the rest of the secrets.

  * * * * *

  Bath time was the only time the poppas got to themselves. The rest of the time, even when they were sleeping, they were meant to be close to their progenies. Costello always used the time to have a shower and then relax, normally by reading a book. Sometimes he'd spend some time hunting for books that might be suitable for Juniper, knowing that she was above the reading level for most of the progenies in the facility but couldn't read anything that wasn't on the approved list. So he was personally responsible for the growing length of the approved list. He really wanted to make her happy, although he wasn't entirely certain that was possible. If she really hadn't been affected by the mental reassignment, the only thing that would was something he couldn't give her. If he started treating her too much like a woman, the two of them would be in trouble.

  Sighing, he stared down at the page he'd already read three times. He'd become a poppa because of his sister entering a facility, and he knew he couldn't go into the same one. He had a mission to peel back the layers of the facility and find out more about his sister. Until becoming a poppa himself, he'd had no idea the extent of their 'grooming' program. He hadn't known that mental reassignment would occur, or he never would have allowed his parents to place his sister in a facility. So yes, he had a mission to find out more. To see if there was any way to help.

  The last thing he'd expected was to develop feelings for his progeny, but that was exactly what had happened. It had to be the fact that she didn't seem like a progeny some of the time. It was often enough that he really did think she was twenty-eight pretending to be six because she knew it was her only option. He just didn't know what he could do to help her. Was there anything he really could do? He didn't have the money to pay for her—Juniper Mae Aneston, in the most recent book, was selling for 45,000 cubic gemstones.

  That was something the progenies didn't know about either, fortunately. In order to pay for their stay in the facility, they were being sold as virgin, innocent, pure wives. Those who remained at the facility for longer were more expensive. Juniper was one of the most expensive, so there was a chance that once she hit the menopause at the age of thirty, she'd be discarded. Occasional waste didn't matter, as they made more than enough profit on the others to be able to cover it. Maybe he could convince them that putting her on sale soon might be to their advantage. If they did… he shook his head. He probably still wouldn't be able to afford her, no matter how much he wanted to. The only other option was to smuggle her out of the facility and hope they managed to reach one of the borders before someone found them.

  Costello could imagine what would happen if they did that. He stared back down at the page of his book, trying to work out what his next step should be. He could be wrong about Juniper. Maybe she really was a progeny, and if she was, she wouldn't want to leave the facility. If she wasn't, then it seemed likely that all she would want to do was leave, but he understood why she hadn't. Trying to get away from the building unseen would probably be impossible. Even if she did, there would be people hunting for her within a couple of days. As she had no money, there was no chance of her getting anywhere at all. Poor girl.

  * * * * *

  Annabelle's favorite toy was the wind-up frog, which Juniper wished with all her heart would break, as she kept sending it across the bath to Tuhla. Tuhla would then always send it back, because Annabelle and Tuhla were best friends, even though Tuhla had this really bad habit of breaking all the crayons that Annabelle wanted to use—but Annabelle always forgave her for that. Tuhla always forgave Annabelle for whatever it was that she was doing that was really annoying. Annabelle was very good at being annoying. Hopefully someone would choose her soon, or Tuhla, so Juniper wouldn't have to deal with the two of them sharing her bath anymore.

  Molly was fine. Juniper didn't have any issues with Molly at all, because Molly was kind and considerate, something very few little girls seemed to be. It was obvious that Molly really did believe she was six though, so Juniper didn't have anyone to talk to who was at least close to her mental age, and that meant she was stuck having to act as though she was six around them, especially as the bath mistresses were the ones who seemed to be most likely to notice and say something. That might have been because they didn't change as often as the poppas.

  As they all sat naked in the oversized tub, full to the brim with bubbles, Juniper did everything she could to not look annoyed. Watching these fully grown women sit naked, surrounded by toys as their breasts bobbed above the water, almost made her want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Juniper hadn't taken a bath alone for ten long years, and every day she had to sit with these naked women who didn't know any different.

  Mae had moved on to washing Juniper's hair. Juniper liked Mae because she was one of the few bath mistresses who didn't talk down to her. Six-year-olds were not stupid. They were young and liked to play, but they weren't stupid. So Mae would tell them all about the planets and the stars, pointing constellations out through the window. Juniper thought about convincing Costello to take her outside after bath time so she could see them outside, the way she could once before with a different poppa, Jeffrey, who'd left her when she'd just turned twenty-five for reasons she didn't understand… although she had a feeling the two of them had been getting too close for the comfort of the facility.

  It was just as well, really, because Juniper had been getting close to confiding in him, which would have been a mistake. Leaning back, she made a little noise of satisfaction as Mae washed her hair. Soon bath time would be over, so Juniper was going to make the most of the parts she enjoyed, because then she'd be back in her bed, crying herself to sleep for yet another night. All she could really do was hope that it would soon be over, although she doubted it would be, as she'd already been there much longer than she expected to. Maybe she just wasn't pretty enough for someone to choose her.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the horrid announcement of one of the bath mistresses. "All right little girls, it's time for all of you to get an enema. It's been long overdue."

  Juniper cringed and the other girls whined and moaned. After ten years, one would think she could get used to the dreaded act, but this was definitely
not the case.

  "Come, come," the bath mistress said, clapping her hands. "Line up like good little girls. I would hate to have to report bad behavior to any of your poppas."

  With that threat, all of the girls grudgingly got out of the baths, wrapped themselves up in their terry cloth towels, and waited for their cleansing. Juniper did the same, doing her best to not mutter profanities under her breath when her time came.

  "Assume the position, Juniper." The bath mistress filled the enema bag and changed the medium-sized nozzle as she issued the command.

  Juniper crossed her arms and pouted, not sure she could bring herself to do so. This wasn't her first enema by any means, and she knew exactly what 'assume the position' meant.

  "Come now. We don't have all day."

  Juniper remained standing, clutching the towel tightly around her damp body.

  "Juniper… I will not ask again without a consequence to follow."

  Juniper looked around at the other women on their hands and knees receiving their routine cleansing. They all hated it. One defiant young lady was being escorted out to be punished by her poppa while a bath mistress swatted her naked behind the entire way. There was no getting out of it. She knew that much. The question was really whether she wanted a punishment on top of an enema. That question was soon answered for her.

  "Assume the position, now." When Juniper refused to budge, the bath mistress added, "Poppa Costello will be instructed to give you a spanking. Would you like me to have him do so with his belt? Assume the position or a belt it shall be."

  Alas, a spanking was in store. And Juniper was wise enough to know that unless she assumed the position and succumbed to the enema, a good belt lashing would be next. With a heavy sigh, she dropped her towel to the ground. With a scowl on her face, she got down on her elbows and knees and tilted her bottom higher in the air. Without hesitation, the mistress inserted the nozzle into her anus with not nearly enough lube. Juniper squealed as the penetration spread her puckered hole.