Path Back Home

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Introduction
This is one of five possible continuations of the story Path to the Crossroads. It is necessary to have traveled in the mind on the path to the crossroads before choosing in which direction to continue. May the reader find adventure, pleasure, and maybe even peace of mind, down the path he or she has chosen to travel.

Of Paths to Take
 
Path Back Home
By: Zylux

In the display window were many stunningly beautiful things to look at, and I quickly scanned over all from left to right and back again. It was then that a small notice taped to the other side of the glass down in the lower center of the display window, caught my attention.


Are you a crossdresser who's rather lanky?
Do you dream of erotic adventures while dressed?
Do you desire to travel to exotic lands?
Yes? Then you may be the one we seek.
If selected you will enjoy an all expense paid trip to Morocco.
Call us now to arrange an interview in the privacy of your own home.
1-555-Ifind4u Ask for Lynn.


I stared in disbelief, could this be for real? Morocco no less, with its spicy food, its totally different culture and architecture, its people, and its stark but beautiful landscapes. My mind began to fill with dreams of adventure and romance. With my mind slipping into a dream world, an old feeling surfaced and took control, willing me to apply. Taking note of the phone number, I turned away from the window and quickly crossed the small parking lot in front of the shops, bringing me back to the boulevard. Instead of making a mad dash across it, I opt to make for the intersection with the street that I came to the mall on. That would get me back to the side I parked my car on. It took awhile but I managed to get back to my car and headed on home.

Back home, I settled onto the couch next to the phone. I sat and stared at the phone. I don't know how long it was before I finally got up the nerve to reach out and take hold of it. My arm shock as I brought the receiver to my ear. I sat trembling as I punched in the phone number. As I listened to the other phone ring, I began to question just what it was that I was doing, but before I could come to my senses, the phone at the other end was answered.

"I find for you, how may I direct your call?"

"Um, Lynn, please."

"Thank you, hold please."

"This is Lynn."

"Hi, um, I saw your ad and would like to inquire about the Morocco trip."

"Excellent, but first let me tell you about our service. Our clients are very wealthy and have very exacting wants. They are willing to pay well to have those wants filled. We specialize in finding that unique person to fit our client's special and unusual needs. Most of our work is in matchmaking, but we do get requests for other services. Our Moroccan client is of the latter and has been a difficult one to satisfy. His requirements are strict and are the most unusual we have ever been presented with. May I ask you some personal questions?"

"I guess so."

"Excellent, now you are aware that we seek a lanky individual?"

"Yes."

"How tall are you?"

"I'm six foot."

"Oh dear, that's a bit under our client's wants. How much do you weigh?"

"Well, you see, um, I'm kind of hurting for money so I don't get to eat as much as I would like. I'm afraid my weight is only ninety eight pounds."

"Oh excellent, excellent, you more then meet that requirement. I think the overall look will be acceptable to our client, especially since you are the only one to come close to the client's requirements in nearly a year of searching. Now, are you a full or part time crossdresser?"

"Part time and it's only in the privacy of my home. No one knows of my, hobby."

"I understand. Rest assured that we are very discreet here and that I will be the only one who will be aware of your situation. Of course, in order to recommend you to our client, I will have to see you in person as the client's other requirements can not be ascertained over the phone. With that in mind, I wonder if you might favor me by wearing a two piece swimsuit when we meet.

"That, I don't have, but I'm sure I can come up with something that will suffice."

"Excellent, I will leave that to your discretion. Now, you must realize that if selected, you will of course, have to present yourself to the client and his household staff. Would you be able to do that?"

"Staff, it's not just the client? Just how many others will be involved?"

"Our client is a most wealthy and powerful person. It's safe to assume that there would be many, many servants. It's also safe to assume that you would be well taken care of while in the client's service. Would it be possible for me to see you today?"

"Wow, um, I don't know, this isn't quite what I had envisioned. I'm going to have to think about it first."

"It will take some time to communicate with the client. Can you use that time to come to terms with your worries? I would really like to see you today, not only to give you an assessment of your eligibility but to let the client know that at long last, we may be at the end of our search. And just think, in a week you may find yourself immersed in palatial splendor in one of the most exotic places on earth. Now, what part of the country do you live in?"

Lynn was really pressuring me, and I didn't like it. She also had the ability to turn a phrase, and "immersed in palatial splendor" went to work on my mind. Every image, imagined or seen, from book or movie, flooded my conscious mind. I quickly drifted into a dreamlike state and was unaware that, that something inside me was taking control of my actions.

"Santa Monica, in southern California."

"Excellent, I'll take the next flight out for L.A. and will be seeing you this evening. What number I can reach you at? ... Got it and I don't believe I caught your name."

"It's Jeff."

"Alright then, Jeff. Oh, there is one more thing, do you have a passport?"

"Yes, I got one after I dropped out of collage. I joined some fellow dropouts on a backpacking tour of South America. It should still be valid."

"Excellent, not having to wait a couple of months to obtain a passport should work in your favor with the client. Well, I should have all I will need for now. I will call you from LAX to get directions to your place. So until then, I will say goodbye."

There was a click on the other end of the line, Lynn had hung up. I sat there in my dreamlike state still holding the phone to my ear staring off into space. A fast beeping sound on my end of the phone brought me back to reality. A reality that had me again asking myself just what had I done. In several hours I would be standing before a stranger, dressed and trying to look like a woman. The question of whether I could do it or not was irrelevant, a commitment had been made. Lynn was going to a lot of trouble and expense, chickening out was not an option.

As time dragged by, I gave more and more thought to how I would present myself to Lynn. From the questions she had posed on the phone, it was clear that the client was looking for a specific body type. Lynn's request of a two piece swimsuit, said to me that she needed to see as much of my bare body as possible. Not having a swimsuit of any kind, I decided to wear the shortest skirt I had, a purple mini flip skirt; paired with a yellow halter style top.

Eventually the time came for me to get ready. I laid out on the bed the chosen clothes and a pair of white panties, and then hit the bathroom for some body hair removal, followed by a shower. As I toweled off, I migrated back into the bedroom. The towel was tossed onto the bed next to the outfit I was to wear. I paused to look at the outfit, and began to reflect on just what I had gotten myself into. But I didn't get the chance as the outfit began to call to me, to will me to wear it. That inner something answered the call and it seized control. I saw my hand reach for and take the panties from the bed. I stepped into them and slowly pulled them up my legs, savoring the cool silky feel against my hairless skin. The skirt was next, and it too, was played with before finally being fastened around my waist by a side zipper and button. I also took my time slipping on the halter top, rolling it up from the bottom and tying the ends in a knot behind my back. For some reason unknown, I always enjoyed getting dressed more than being dressed. Oh well, makeup was next.

From a back corner of the closet, an old shoebox was retrieved. It contained what little in the way of cosmetics I had been able to find or procure. I spent longer then usual trying to hide who I really was. The end result was a slightly masculine looking woman, but at least the real me was somewhat hidden away. I was beginning to feel a little more at ease about letting Lynn in on my secret. It was then time to address my hair, which was shoulder length, and usually in a ponytail. I decided to wear it up to counter the usual atmosphere associated with a flared miniskirt. Next was a final inspection.

As I looked myself over in a full length mirror, the phone rang. It had to be Lynn and so it was proved to be. I gave her directions to my place, and then sat down on the couch to put on a pair of black high heel shoes (the only pair of high heels I had). Now, all I had to do was to wait for Lynn.

Time dragged by but eventually there came a knock on the door. I froze in fear. The proverbial moment of truth had arrived, and the question then was, was I up to it? I rose up off the couch and faced the door but couldn't move. There came a second knock and that something inside me took control. The front door was getting larger and closer. I saw my hand reach out and take hold of the door knob. My heart was pounding hard and loud. The knob turned and the door started to open. There was no stopping it and I found myself looking through a narrow opening upon a high class woman.

She defiantly fit the mold of a business woman and was dressed for success. She was wearing a very expensive looking white skirt suit with a hem line about two inches above the knee. The fitted jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a black shirt with the top button undone. Her shoes were white, two inch spiked high heels. The only jewelry I could see were a pair of pearl earrings and a matching two strand pearl choker. She wore her hair up and pulled back from her face. Wire frame glasses with large round lenses, gave her an air of authority, and yet, there was a friendly, disarming look about her.

I moved back from her, opening the door wide enough for her to enter. She took the hint and came in, stopping a few feet past me. While she looked around the room, I closed the door. She turned to face me and then looked me over from head to toe and back. She motioned for me to turn completely around and continued her inspection. It was an uncomfortable experience and I felt like some kind of freak on display. But Lynn didn't treat me like one, she didn't laugh, or worse. Instead she just smiled in a friendly reassuring way.

"Excellent, I do believe that the client will be pleased. I will get a fax off first thing tomorrow as it will be after midnight before I get back home. Now, assuming that the client will accept you, I will go over what will happen in the days ahead."

Lynn covered a lot of ground, and in the process, eased most of my fears. We also chatted socially for a while as her return flight was a couple of hours off. During our time together, she treated me as normal and I became more at ease about being dressed in the presence of others. If I would receive the same treatment in Morocco, then I could go through with it. Time passed all too quickly and Lynn had to leave for the airport sooner then I would have liked. As she exited the front door, she wished me well and smiled at me. But this time it wasn't entirely friendly. No, there was more to it, something along the lines of someone who was about to make an advantages deal.

It was three days later when Lynn called me. My hand again trembled as I reached for the phone and brought the receiver to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Jeff? It's Lynn, pack your bags, you're off to Morocco."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, everything has been arranged, you leave tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow? That soon? I don't know, um, what …"

"The client is most anxious to meet you, and insists that you leave on the next available flight out of the U.S. Relax; all you need to bring is a weeks worth of your normal clothing and personal care items. Everything else will be provided. As for transportation, the tickets are waiting for you at the check in counter. You will fly out of LAX to Miami where you will make a connecting flight to Casablanca. A servant will be waiting at the airport and will drive you to the client's estate. There, you will be filled in on the agenda for your stay."

I was speechless. A dreamlike blur surrounded me as Lynn continued on.

"I've arranged for a shuttle bus to pick you up about two hours before your flight. Good luck, and enjoy. Oh, and don't forget your passport. Call me when you get back. Bye."

Getting to Morocco was a long, boring, and exhausting hassle that I shall skip over. The plane arrived more or less on time at the airport in the fabled city of movies and legends. As I exited the plane I was met by a blast of hot air scented with the aroma of spices, food, and other things less desirable. I was definitely in a totally different world. After getting through passport control, I retrieved my lone suitcase and headed for customs. The official looked over my papers, glanced at my one suitcase, and then waved me through.

In the arrival meeting area, I spotted a man holding a sign with my name on it. I signaled to him and then made my way through the crowd to where he was standing. He took my bag and led me out of the building to a car parked curbside in a restricted area. The car was an antique, French made I think, possibly an early to mid 30's touring sedan. The spotless white and tan body glistened in the hot sun. The servant opened the door to the back seat for me and I climbed in amidst the stares from people milling about in front of the building. I was beginning to feel like a different person, somebody of importance.

It wasn't long before we were underway moving through the city. The route the driver took was clearly made to show off the best parts of the city, and avoid the worst. We eventually made it through the city and out into the countryside. The landscape was for the most part, barren and alien, but I was fascinated by it nonetheless. I took in every detail of every scene that presented itself as we drove on. At one point, I spotted what looked like trees up against some low hills. It was the only patch of green that could be seen in any direction. Soon there after, the driver turned off the main road onto a narrow hard dirt road that led to the trees I had spotted.

It didn't take long before we arrived at the patch of greenery. The trees I had spotted were rising up from the center courtyard of a massive, two story square building. The driver pulled up in front of tall, massive, double wood doors in the center of the front wall. The doors opened, and several servants came forth. One opened the car door and assisted me in climbing out of the car. Another retrieved my suitcase and made ready to walk behind me as I was ushered through the doorway by still more servants each bowing to me in turn.

The scene that greeted me inside the gates was like something out of a movie. The center courtyard was large and impressive, with every room facing it. An open hallway in front of the rooms was created by tall columns and arches on all four sides. The space between columns on the second floor was filled with waist high ornate iron work. All of the buildings outer surfaces were painted in intricate and ornate geometric patterns. The floor of the open hallway was covered in cut stone with glazed tiles that had a geometric design on them fitted in between stones in a regular pattern. At the center point of each hallway, a path of the same cut stone and tiles extended into the open courtyard meeting at a central fountain carved out of a single massive piece of white marble. The fountain was circular, and at each point where the paths met the fountain was a standing lion with its fore paws up on the wide rim of the fountains pool. Water issued forth from the mouth of each lion into the pool. In the center of the pool was a set of five progressively smaller stacked ornate bowls reaching up higher then I was tall. Water cascaded from one to the next and finally into the pool. The courtyard itself was planted in everything from ground cover to trees, most of which were in the palm family. Huge, thick walled pottery jars were scattered here and there as sculptural elements. It was very inviting and was calling to me. I slipped into a daydream in which I envisioned myself strolling down one of the paths to the fountain, dressed in an ankle length, sheer white, frilly and totally feminine dress, with a matching wide brim hat. But the dream was cut short, as I was turned away from the garden and led up a flight of stairs to the second floor and on to what would be my room during my stay.

The interior of the room was even more ornate than anything I had seen to that point. It was furnished in both Moroccan and western style furniture, and was clearly done so as to give me a choice as to how I wished to reside. In the center of the room was a low, small circular table surrounded by four plush cushions. On the table were several silver platters piled high with various kinds of fruit and different kinds of dates, as well as a crystal pitcher filled with water and crushed fresh herbs.

"Sir, I am Moulham, and am most honored to be your aid during your stay with us. If there is anything which you desire, you have but to ask. Now, if you will permit me, I shall present to you some of the things I have arranged to make your visit memorable. Please make yourself comfortable here at the table and freely partake in what you see, especially the water, as it has herbs that will aid in your body's acclimation to our time zone."

I did as requested and as I bit into the most delicious orange I have ever had (a local variety I had never heard off), Moulham filled my mind with the exotic wonders I would see. One of the most exciting was a trip to the ruins of an old palace on a hill overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Another one that I eagerly desired was a visit to a Berber village in the Atlas Mountains to partake in a feast of local delicacies. All in all, it was going to be a whirlwind tour and I was beginning to wonder if there would be time to meet my host.

"Moulham, it all sounds incredible and I am most excited. But I wonder, when will I meet my most generous host?"

"Sir, that will be tomorrow morning after you have been prepared in accordance with my masters wishes. Now, if I may take my leave, I will see how the preparations for tonight dinner are progressing. I have chosen a menu that I hope you will find enjoyable. I shall soon return, sir."

Moulham backed out of the room but I was not left alone for three striking mature women remained to pamper me and attend to my every need. I took the opportunity to lie out on a divan as the effects of jet lag were catching up to me. Two of the women took it upon their selves to see that I was kept cool by the judicious use of long handled fans. I felt like I was in a scene out of some old Hollywood movie or in a dream that I did not want to wake up from. I drifted off into a state between relaxation and sleep, to deep for one and not deep enough for the other. Time was quickly forgotten.

I was aroused from my state in what seemed to be all too soon, but actually a considerable amount of time had passed. The evidence of which presented itself by Moulham and a couple of servants carrying covered dishes. The table was cleared and the dishes were set upon it. I was most anxious to sample the local cuisine and hastened to the table but was redirected to a wash basin. There, a servant assisted me in the hand washing ritual that precedes all Moroccan meals. It made sense, as Moroccan cuisine is eaten using ones hand. Finishing the ritual, I returned to the table and sat down on one of the cushions.

As each dish was uncovered, I took in its appearance and then its aroma, savoring each, without even having taken a bite. The spiciness brought to mind the more pleasant scents that greeted me when I disembarked from the plane. I tore off a small piece of flat bread and used it to pinch up a small amount from the first dish and pop the whole into my mouth. This I repeated with each dish in turn. It was all good, but not as spicy as I thought it would be from what I had read. My disappointment did not escape Moulham's attention.

"Sir does not seem to be enjoying his meal. Is there something wrong?"

"On the contrary, this is the most wondrous and exotic meal I have ever partaken in. If I seem disappointed, it's just that I have been led to believe that it would be a bit spicier."

"Oh sir, please forgive, the fault is entirely mine. I thought that it would be best to tone the meal down so that you will sleep well and arise tomorrow morning without any unintended ill effects. Rest assured that before long you will experience Moroccan cuisine in its full glory."

It was of course, a wise precaution. My body was going to have enough to handle just trying to shake off the effects of jet lag. It didn't need the added problems of trying to digest spicy foods that I was not accustomed to. Even with things toned down, the meal was very enjoyable and I couldn't wait to try more. The rest of the evening was filled with music and dance provided by the servant women. I was thoroughly enjoying the experience, but all too soon it was time for me to retire. Moulham instructed one of the servants to remain and assist me in my preparations for bed. I thanked him but declined the offer. Moulham honored my wishes and departed wishing me a good night. I entered the sleeping chamber where I found my usual sleeping attire laid out on a western style bed. After changing clothes, I finished up my usual preparations and retired for the night.

Morning arrived bright and warm. I rose from bed and after completing my morning routine, I donned a white burnoose that had been laid out for me the previous evening. The chatter of birds came drifting in through the open windows facing the courtyard and I decided to investigate. I left my room, moved down the outside hallway to the stairs and descended to the ground floor. As I moved into the garden, I could see birds of a couple of different species all around me. I sat down on the wide rim of the fountains pool and stared off into the garden. I quickly slipped into a daydream, one in which I was dressed quite differently then I actually was. It wasn't long before Moulham approached me.

"Ah, I see that Sir has already risen. I hope this glorious morning find Sir well rested."

"You do indeed, Moulham. I have never had a better nights sleep away from home before. What ever was in the water you gave me has worked wonders. I am most thankful."

"Master will be pleased to hear. I will personally see to it that you are given a bottle of the water to drink upon your arrival home to aid in your readjusting back to your time zone. If Sir is ready, I will see that breakfast is brought to your room."

"Very good, Moulham, I shall return momentarily."

Moulham bowed and moved off in what I assumed was the direction of the kitchen. I took a leisurely stroll back to my room. As I finished with the hand washing ritual, Moulham entered with a servant woman carrying a large covered tray. She put it on the small round table and as I sat down, removed the cover. It was a typical Moroccan breakfast with the main dish being Harira, a soup made of several different cereal grains and vegetables in lamb stock. It was delicious and I was encouraged to eat more than my fill and indeed I found it impossible not to. Given my extreme thinness, it didn't take much before I could feel and see my stomach start to bulge.

"Thank you Moulham, it was absolutely delicious."

"I am most happy you are pleased. If you will be pleased to remove any clothing you are wearing under the burnoose, I will lead you to where you will be prepared to meet my master."

I did as requested, and soon we were at the entrance to a room that was under the one I was staying in. As I entered, I could see that a bath had been prepared for me. The tub was of the deep soaking type, and was sunk into the floor up to the rim. The inner surface was covered in an exquisitely detailed mosaic of pure Moroccan geometric design and colors. It was filled to the rim in crystal clear water, with jasmine blossoms floating on the surface. The scent of jasmine was enticing me to slip into the cool water straight away, but of course I had to wash first.

There were several women servants waiting in attendance. All were stripped down to their strapless bra and panties. Two of the women came up on either side of me, squatted down and took hold of the hem of my burnoose. They lifted it up and off, revealing my nakedness to all. Two others began to smear a cream that had a slight acrid smell over my body from the neck down. The servants then reached into a standing tub filled with soapy water and pulled out large sponges. They began to wash me from head to toe. This was followed by buckets of water that had been heated to body temperature. The water cascaded down my body onto the floor, where it disappeared into the cracks between the large floor tiles. Two of the women took me by each hand and escorted me to the head of the tub. They then assisted me in getting in the deep tub.

The cool water was a welcome refreshment in that hot environment, and I slowly slipped in up to my neck, savoring every second of my slow decent. The intoxicating scent of jasmine became heavier the deeper I sank into the bath. I quickly relaxed, fully giving myself to the magic of the scented water. One of the servants lathered my face, and then gave me the closest shave I have ever had. She had no sooner finished, when another servant began to massage my neck and shoulders, while others fed me grapes. It was all too good to be true, but I didn't care. My mind quickly drifted off into an alternate reality. But all too soon, it was time for me to get out of the tub and continue being prepared to meet the client.

A pair of servants helped me up out of the tub. I took a couple of steps toward a group of servants holding the fluffiest white towels I had ever seen. Stopping in front of the group, I was quickly surrounded and patted dry. Two of the women exchanged the towels for fair sized puff pads and proceeded to powder me from head to toe. Two others then anointed me with fragrant oil. One of the servants that had been standing by, then approached me holding out a bikini panty like garment. It appeared to be made of a sheer scarf like material with a white silk liner. On each side was a small bow with a long sheer scarf hanging down. I stepped into it and as the woman brought it up into place, tucked my self in, so to speak. The liner turned out to be of a heavier, elastic material and did a very good job of hiding my, um, true gender.

A servant, holding a floor length, white silk, tube shaped gown, approached from just behind me and came to stand before me. She held it out in front of her, high enough for the hem to not touch the floor. She then lowered the gown to the floor, descending to her knees as she did so. The woman let go of the gown and leaned forward, reaching out towards my hands. I placed my hands in hers and she gently pulled me toward her. As I stepped into the center of the gown, she let go of my hands. The woman then took hold of the top of the gown on each side of my legs and pulled the top of gown up to my chest. The top of the gown was cut at an angle and ended as a narrow strap on the front and back on my left side. A woman approached me from my left. She took up both straps, and then tied them together over my left shoulder with a single loop bow. The gown hung from my left shoulder, straight down to the floor, without the slightest bulge to be seen anywhere, not even from my still extended stomach. The two servants pulled slightly back from me, and then with a sweep of their hands, motioned me to a near by chair.

I moved to the chair and sat down. A woman came up behind me and began combing my shoulder length hair straight back from my face. She gathered it up into an elaborate bun at the top back of my head. A silk scarf was tied around the base of the bun, with the long end falling down behind me. Four other women went to work on my finger and toe nails, cleaning, trimming, filing, and painting them. After they finished, a pair of open toed sandals were slipped onto my feet. A delicate chain like ankle bracelet was secured around my left ankle. A wide plain gold bracelet was slipped onto my left wrist and snapped closed.

The woman who did my hair went to work on my face. She brushed a pale powder over my face. She then highlighted various features of my face with slightly darker powders. She finished up by applying a minimal amount of makeup around my eyes and mouth. I became concerned about how little makeup had been used; as I knew from my own experiences that it took a lot of time and effort just too partially hide my male features. My concern wasn't shared by the woman, as she seemed happy with the end result. I was hoping that someone would present me with a mirror so I could have a look see, but it was not to be. Two of the servant women reached out for my hands and pulled me up from the chair and started to lead me out of the room. As we progressed across the room, I took every chance to check myself out in any reflective surface we came upon. The images were disappointing at best, as the surfaces were curved or rippled. I tried to mentally filter out the distortions and came to convince myself that I looked feminine enough.

As we walked, my mind began to recall all of the events leading up to this moment. I had been pampered, fussed over, and treated as if I had been a real woman. There had not been any snickers, or strange looks, or behind the back whispering. Never in my life had I felt so alive, so like the woman that inner something seemed to want me to be. I proudly marched on toward my destiny.

My trek took me across the garden to the other side of the courtyard and to the room where the client was waiting for me. We entered a small receiving hall where a servant man was standing midway along the right hand wall next to an entrance to another room. He parted the beads filling the entrance and disappeared inside. He shortly reappeared through the beads, then pulled the beads to one side and bowed to me. He motioned me to enter with his free hand. I advanced and entered what turned out to be a large elaborately and richly decorated room. At the far end of the room, was a large rotund man dressed in a white burnoose, partially surrounded by one male and three female servants. He was sitting on, and surrounded by a huge pile of silk pillows, and stared at me with a smile on his face. I suddenly became aware that I was now alone, my entourage having remained outside the room. Not knowing what was going to happen, scared me stiff and I was unable to move. That inner something seized control and the room started to move past me. I got about two thirds across the room, when the man made a slight hand gesture, indicating me to stop. I then noticed that there was a thick rope hanging down from above, just off of and ending just below my left shoulder. The man nodded to someone out of sight. The rope began to move.

I became aware of a small monkey descending the rope. It reached out towards my shoulder and grabbed the free end of the bow. The bow surrendered to the monkey's tugging and came undone. The monkey scampered back up the rope as the gown slid down my body, unhindered, all the way to the floor. I stood there, appearing to be an almost totally naked woman. The man's smile broadened into a leer. He began to rub his hands together with increasing intensity. He started to lick his lips as he nodded his head as if to say "yes, Yes, YES". I instantly became alarmed and wondered just what had I gotten myself into. What did he want from me? What was he expecting me to do?

Suddenly the man turned and looked toward a servant standing next to the entrance to a side chamber. He clapped his hands twice and the servant pulled the beads in the opening to one side. In walked a young girl dressed in a silken gown and scarves. She looked like a miniature princess and couldn't have been more then seven years old. She headed straight for the man who greeted her with open arms. She hugged the man as he embraced her. He then lifted her up, and sat her on his ample lap.

"My precious Daughter, do you see that woman standing there? I wish you to take a good look at her. I want you to remember her image, for you see, if you don't eat your vegetables, you're going to grow up looking like THAT!"

In spite of that humbling, life altering reality check, I did manage to enjoy the rest of my once in a lifetime adventure. It was all worth it, and I do not regret my inner something taking the path it did.

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Comments

Nothing like being a role model...

Andrea Lena's picture

...even if it's to be an living object lesson of what 'not' to be? Where ever you take me, your trips are never ever disappointing. Thank you.

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

Of Paths To Take: Path Back Home

NEVER saw this wonderful event coming. Glad they had fun.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Loved the ending

I only reluctantly read the story just waiting for the horror of what was to happen... Then couldn't stop laughing about your ingenious ending.

Thanks so much for the story