“They were all ‘sent to town,’ ” Vadim said, after entering Mike’s office. The girls had been turned over to Mother Savina with orders to get them some clean clothes and a bath. “Most of them are from farms down the road to the south. Various places between here and the Gorge.”
“So can we send them back?” Mike asked.
“Assuming we can find any of the farms, probably not,” Vadim said, shrugging. “Generally, none of these girls have been more than a kilometer from their homes and don’t really know where they are. I’ll send one of my men out to see if they can figure it out. But even if we can find the farms, girls get sent to town for a reason. Generally, they’re of no more use. And if you send them back, they’re just going to be sold again.”
“So what the hell do I do with them?” Mike asked, angrily.
“I dunno,” Vadim said, shrugging. “Clean them up and fuck them?”
After Vadim was gone, Mike sat at his desk and rubbed his forehead in thought. For good or ill, he’d apparently inherited a harem. The honorable thing to do was to figure out some way to send them off to a school, preferably female only, until they were old enough to find jobs. But half the time even women with training in countries like this ended up as “bar girls,” whores in other words. There just weren’t enough jobs for all the men and women got hired last. Even when women could find decent jobs, it was usually at the cost of putting out to the boss. He thought about the “secretary” or whatever who served tea at his meeting with the president. It was unlikely that she only typed for her pay.
Hell, it was unlikely that he could find a school that would take them. None of the girls were going to speak English so sending them to somewhere in Europe would be out of the question and one in Georgia would probably reject them. Boarding schools in countries like Georgia were for the well-to-do. Period. Country peasants need not apply. There might be a school run by nuns or something that would take them in. Unlikely, but possible.
The easiest thing would be to simply keep them here as a harem. He considered that for a moment. The biggest problem the girls would face, even if they were “of age,” say eighteen or so, would be education. He could get a tutor. Get them educated to high school level and they could get into a university. If they needed money for that, well, he had money.
He had to admit that the thought had a certain something. Poor, almost assuredly virginal, waifs. What to do? Clean ’em up and fuck ’em seemed to be the general consensus. It was what they knew was coming, anyway. Okay, and get ’em a tutor and take care of ’em until they were old enough to find a real life.
Conscience salved and decision made, Mike got up to go explain the facts of life to the girls.
“Good evening, ladies,” Mike said, looking the group over. He was holding the meeting in the atrium of the harem quarters, sitting on the still nonfunctional fountain. The girls had been cleaned up and clothing found for them. There wasn’t enough actual clothing available in their size so they were in whatever was available. In a couple of cases that meant robes and one of the ones in robes had a magnificent set of hooters that were showing a good bit of cleavage. He tore his eyes away from it and looked around at the other girls. Most of them were mid-teen but ranged from about seventeen down to one he was afraid might be twelve or so. She was a sweet looking thing with black hair and an elfin face. And blue eyes that were watching him nervously.
“You all know why you were sent to town,” Mike said, firmly looking away from the girl’s eyes and the various breasts that strained clothes. “The good news is that you’re not going to be turned into whores. The bad news is that there’s not much else to do with you.”
“Could we stay here?” one of the girls asked, nervously.
“That’s the way it’s trending,” Mike admitted. “But, and there’s always a but, you can guess under what conditions. The term is concubine. You’ll be housed, fed, tutored and given a small salary. You’ll clean house and provide other comforts. To be precise that means warm my bed and sometimes the beds of visitors I designate. Anyone who can’t handle those conditions I’ll have taken to Tbilisi and dropped off with some money and clothes. You can make your way from there. But you know damned well how you’ll be making your way.”
“That is fine,” the little girl with the blue eyes said. “We heard that the Kildar had returned even where I lived. I do not mind being a woman of the Kildar.” She actually seemed eagerm which blew Mike’s mind.
“I think you’re nuts,” Mike said, shaking his head. “And you’ll be waiting for a bit; in my culture you’re way too young so for the time being you’ll just be helping around the house, little lady. Later we’ll discuss the rest. As for the rest, when you’re old enough to make it in the world you can go forth with an education under your belt and enough money to get a start. That I can do.”
“Where are we going to stay?” the girl with the hooters asked, pulling her robe closer.
“Here,” Mike said, waving around. “It’s the old harem quarters. Convenient, no? We need to get you clothes. A tutor. An understanding tutor. Sheets for the beds…” He stopped and shook his head, sighing.
“Kildar,” one of the girls said, standing up and coming over to sit by him. “We will speak to Mother Savina and tell her that we will be staying. And the rest that you said. There should be others to take care of that.”
“What’s your name, girl?” Mike asked. She was pretty but not beautiful, with long brown hair and brown eyes. She’d borrowed a dress from one of the hookers, Flopsy’s if he recalled it correctly, and it fit her like a glove. Since she wasn’t wearing a bra, she bulged out pleasantly. She also apparently had a longer torso since the dress, which was designed to fall to mid thigh, was hiked up to where it just barely covered her assets.
“I am Klavdiya,” the girl said. She was on the upper end of the age range, probably about seventeen.
“You’re hereby appointed straw boss,” Mike said, sighing and trying not to stare down the dress. “Until I can get a harem manager. Tell Mother Savina that we’ll need more house outfits.”
“There are many rooms,” the one with the hooters said. “Which one do we use?”
“There are four in use now,” Mike said, pointing down the corridor. “Other than those, I don’t care. Choose.”
“We don’t have to share?” Klavdiya asked, surprised. “Bless you, Kildar, I have never had a room of my own!”
“This is a sick culture,” Mike muttered in English.
“What is that?” Klavdiya asked.
“Nothing,” Mike said. “Yes, you can each have your own room, your own bed. And you’ll be given a stipend to fix it up. Money to buy clothes of your own. You are the women of the Kildar. You cannot go out in public in robes,” he said, gesturing at hooters. “What’s your name girl?”
“Tinata,” the girl answered, shyly. She was probably about sixteen, at a guess. On the spot he made the decision that that was the cut-off age. The twelve-year-old and the one that he was pretty sure was fourteen or so were off-limits until older. Sixteen he figured he could live with.
“Mind if I just call you Tina?” Mike asked. “There is an outfit that I got made for the other girls who are helping out. You’ll each get a couple of those and you’ll be given money that you can use to order more clothes. The deal is you get six hundred euros to order stuff for your room, all there is in them now is a bed and a night stand, and five hundred for clothes. That’s for the first month, it goes down after that but it’s still fair. I’ll add some money every month for play money, that will be cash. When you leave, you can take any clothes that fit, jewelry, what have you. The furnishings stay.”