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Roadtrip	By : Wendell Urth Category: +1 through F > Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends Views: 2849 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a story for adults due to graphic sex.Disclaimer: Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends and all associated characters belong to their respective creators and owners, not me. I receive no compensation whatsoever for this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
Miss Afra’ Duties
It was always busytime for Miss Afra, specially when there were new babies to tend. It was more work than just preparing cups of her ‘special tea’ and a straightening of sheets (which appeared to lose all traces of stain and were renewed with the fresh spicy lemon smell as her hands passed over them).
But it was also a joy to the woman. These new babies especially! Didn’t need much convincing. Already in love with each other, just didn’t know it, couldn’t express it because of the rules they obeyed in their time and place. “Silly rules-ah.” she muttered. She knew how the mortal world changed rules every few generations. Practiced openly one moment, forbidden under pain of death the next. “Feh!”
Take the two Russian landowners and their serfs across the hall. Even to someone who had seen as much as Miss Afra, that was a place of ugly, bitter, angry sex. Generated no love. Gave her no enjoyment, hardly anything to feed on. Even after nearly a century, so little pleasure to be had…
Whenever she entered with tea, the landowners complained about the poor quality of the vodka and demanded fresh whores. They treated Miss Afra like she was one of their servants, threatened her with a beating if she didn’t start obeying them. Miss Afra’s patience would be running out any decade now… any decade…
She shook her head, some of the babies in her care were “just too pig headed blind to ever learn-ah.”
“Now take-ah the Romans!” she chortled. “Well, the babies from Pompeii, day-ah the volcano. All rushing in ah-here, covered in ash. Reminds me of my new-ah babies.” She thought for a moment. “Yes, dark haired slave girl, no more than 17 and the twin 12-year-old sons of her master-ah. Now there is some joyous fucking ah-goin’ on in there. Fit right in with-ah no problem.”
As she went from room to room, refreshing her babies, cleaning up after them, she thought about her most recent arrivals. “Give ‘em a few years to settle down, maybe a decade to forget about their kin outside the house. Maybe switch off the new children for the ah-Roman twins. Bet Miss Frankie would love that. That slave girl Cassia is near dark as Miss Goo.” Then she smiled, “Maybe all six of them in the same bed. Now-ah would’t that be sweet!”

They felt drunk.
They felt sick.
They eventually stumbled into the kitchen and found Miss Afra. She looked shorter than before. Her arms were crossed. Staring at them. Angry? Concerned? Frankie couldn’t read her expression.
“Ya know, ya three babies need ta’ get back in bed!”
Frankie stood there, naked. Holding the children’s hands, shaking her head. Her large low breasts with the upward pointing nipples swayed gently. “No Miss Afra, you need to tell us the truth.”
Goo interrupted; she never spoke more slowly in her life. “Are you real or are you Imaginary?”
Miss Afra laughed, “Child, no one ever ‘magined me up! I’m as real as tha’ storm and twice as powa-ful.”
Mac shook his head. Disbelief.
Looking at him, Miss Afra continued. “I don’t lie ah-child. I may not tell the whole truth as I ah-see it, but Miss Afra, she nev’ah tell a lie.” Her accent grew even thicker. Stranger.
The pain in Frankie’s head was returning, Mac was rubbing his chest, Goo her arm and side.
“Who? What are you?”
“I tole ya’ before-ah. I am Miss Afra. Miss Afra Deshia. And who ya’ll be, to question me?”
Goo and Mac looked at each other puzzled.
Frankie asked “As in ‘aphrodisiac’? You named yourself after that?!?” Then explaining to the children, “Something that makes you horny, enhances sex. Usually some phony concoction”
“Ha, child. They name that stuff after me and I ain’t no phony! Now scoot back ta’ bed afore ya’ll fall over on your feet. You need rest, get-ah strong enough ta’ love each other.”
Mac looked longingly for a moment back at the way they came, towards the bedroom. Goo saw and shook some sense into him.
Frankie grabbed their hands, “No, we’re leaving. You can’t control us any longer.”
“Naked, in this ah-here storm?” Thunder suddenly shook the house.
“If we have to, this is a trap”
“Sakes, child. Tain’t nothing of the kind.” Looking at Frankie slyly, “Why don’ ya’ dance for me child? Dance fer us all! Show us how ya’ like-ah ta’ dance.”
Frankie was naked, barefooted on the old floor boards which creaked slightly as she moved. Her feet began to move side to side, front to back, to sway. Sweating now from every pore. Her arms began to wave and weave patterns as she dripped, her hair was soaked, flattened to her skull as she nodded throwing off droplets. Her breasts shook and twirled in time to her steps.
“Mac ma’ child, don’t let her dance-ah alone. Go to her boy! Look-ah how wet she is! Can ya’ smell her puss, child? So wet, why don’ you press yer face ‘gainst that wonderful wet red bush a’ hers. C’mon boy, ya know ya’ want ta! Look how wet and willing she is for ya?”
As Frankie swayed and danced in place, Mac began to meet her rhythm. Closer & closer till his face pressed against her crotch. He began to kiss her moistness, feeding on her.
Miss Afra sat in one of the oversized twigs and stick chairs, now tapping her foot faster as the dancers sped up.
Goo was horrified, she turned to glare at Miss Afra who snapped her fingers. “Don’t’ be ah-rude little child. Your friends are ah-dancin’ and why don’t you ah-join? Look at Miss Frankie’s fine young-ah ass. I ain’t never seen an ass so fine, have ya’ll? I reckin’ ya’ ain’t? There’s a secret back there. Tight white lil’ pucker that got ya’ name on it. Just right sized fer a little girl’s mouth, and ya’ tongue. Don’t that sound sweet, Miss Goo?” Then, “Never seen such fine dancing since Thebes… since Thermopylae…” She began rocking in her chair, lost in her memories for the moment.
Goo’s eyes went round and dreamy, she began to catch the rhythm that Frankie and Mac’s bodies beat out on the floor boards. Closer and closer she danced to her lovers… and hurled herself between their feet bowling them over.
“Ha! Powerful little witch, ain’t ya? A child so powerful is wasted on the modern world.”
Frankie understood, Goo had created more and varied Imaginary Friends than anyone she had ever met. Her imagination had no limits. In this place she had power, if she could use it, they could escape
Reading her mind, “Oh hush child. I told ya before, this is no trap. I just wanted to show ya’ how sweet this place is? It is sweet, ain’t it? They boy thinks so! ‘Course he does, bein’ a boy he’s naturally lead around by his pecker.” Miss Afra cackled.
Mac’s pecker was pointing in the direction of the bedroom and he was trying to head back there. A natural compass. Goo was holding him back, best she could.
“You caused our accident, didn’t you?”
Miss Afra jumped from the chair scaring them all, landing between them. She raised her hand to strike Frankie who suddenly cowered in terror.
“Don’t ya’ll evah’ ‘cuse me a’ such a’ thing! Not evah! I have shown ya’ll such kindness as few mortals have known and ya’ll dare to ‘cuse me?” There was something horrible in her anger, inhuman… no, it was unhuman. Goo froze in terror. Mac blinked, and ran to defend Frankie, throwing his naked little body in front of her, like that might do some good.
Miss Afra looked at him for a moment and sighed. “Foolish lil’ boy. The bravery of foolish lil’ boys’. Ahhhh.”
“No one caused ya’ accident, save maybe ah-maingary rabbit lookin’ to save a buck.” She shook her head. “You came to my door-ah. This girl child found it, not many humans of this age could’ah. Enjoyed the sweet, sweet flesh, the sweet, sweet bed and the dance! Ah, foolish babies! Now, ya’ll in a hurry to leave old Miss Afra.”
The door swung open.
“Ahhh, ya’all miss ya’ mamas, ya’ papa, grandmama too? Well, before ya’ll leave and leave forever, there are things, truth I will ah-tell.” Her voice grew stranger, it was more like the sound of tree branches grinding together in a storm.
When you pass from-ah here, you’ll lose all memory of the joy and pleasure ya’ll found, but not the desire. Not the need. That will grow-ah. But ya’ll not know the what or why of it. That you will-ah never know. You will nevah find-ah that feeling in ya’ lives again. It was my blessing, but ya’ll reject it, so it will reject ya’ll forever”
Mac shivered. “Is that a curse? Are you cursing us? Punishing us for leaving?”
“No child. That is as things must be. Miss Afra does not curse. Miss Afra does not punish. Miss Afra loves ya in joy and pleasure. It’s the world out there-ah that does such things.”
“But there is more. That-ah accident.” Looking at a horrified Frankie who knew what must come next.
“No! No, don’t say it, not to the children.”
Sadly, “I would-ah spare them if I could-ah, my child” drawing a breath. “Maybe all ya’ babies be fine, laugh and ah-play and run. Or maybe some, maybe all, be crippled up and in pain.” She shrugged.
Mac moaned.
“Ya’ step outside that door-ah, any one or all ya’ babies maybe be dead. I don’t know who may have ah-lived and who may ah-died.” Shaking her head with a sound like twigs snapping.
Goo stared at her. “And if we’re dead, then what?”
“I don’t know child. Death is beyond my ken. All ya’ human babies talk about life after life, heaven, paradise. Maybe true. Or maybe just the cold empty dark. Miss Afra, she don’t’ ken.”
Goo was crying, Mac too. Frankie knelt and swept them into her arms, glaring at Miss Afra as if to say “How could you?”
Miss Afra snorted. “Ya’ll said ya’ wanted the truth. Truth is ah-hard. Truth is a stone. Truth is a knife.”
“But I can do this… stay here and you won’t miss ya mama, papa, grandma no more. I take those memories, take the sadness… give ya’ endless pleasure. Joy…”
“Or ya’ go back through the door. Back to whatever happened… has happened. All three, decide as ah-one.”
Frankie, Goo and Mac looked at each other, genuinely not knowing what to do next. They stepped towards the door and stopped. Instead of Miss Afra, all that remained in the room besides the twig and vine furniture, which seemed to be unraveling, was something on the chair.
It was a poppet, a doll made of rags and twigs, swamp fibers and sweet/musty mold. The kind of doll that might have been left a dusty dark dank corner of an abandoned sharecropper’s shack a hundred years ago... or found in an ancient tomb among the bones of a child.
It’s head and body appeared to be some kind of worn silk. Time and hard use had scraped the fabric so thin, it seemed to shimmer. Her original color could not be guessed from the random stains.
Her mouth was cut from a red ribbon turned brown with age, sewn in a perpetual circle. A kiss? Or was she just preparing to spit?
Her eyes were crossed stiches of yellow with tiny black beads in the center. Hair, drowned worms? Best not to think about it. She was wearing some sort of wrap or housecoat of burlap. There were pockets in odd places, filled with something… something that moved...
Frankie and the children looked at each other. They had a decision to make… together.

***Authors Note: I could tell Frankie a thing or two about invisible human looking Imaginaries! I had an invisible Imaginary Friend named Beep Schmendrick. Other than his name, there was nothing much unusual about him, except he was tall, blonde and blue-eyed, all the things I knew then I would never be. He ate all my lima beans for me and between dinner and bedtime took me from my room to the moon and Mars to fight pirates and back before my parents could notice. I wonder what happened to him. I wish he was still around, especially when someone serves me lima beans.
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Roadtrip