Prologue
I walked into the girl's locker room without a thought. At least not any apprehensive one. It was only my girls in there, after all. And any girls who want to belong to me.
The gushing of showers confirmed I'd timed things well. The thought of at least eight girls soaping up, wondering what I'd do to them, was enough to begin getting hard already. You'd think I'd become a little less excitable over time, given the position I'm in. But not yet.
You see, I live in a sorority. In fact, I founded it. With the help of one naughty girl who seems to think it's her life's mission to keep me satisfied. In all sorts of perverted ways. With a list of 15 lovers desperate to please me. Plus her, of course.
But that's the end of my story. The beginning is a bit sad.
...
It happened just when we thought we had it all. A big house in the Bayou. A successful business set to launch. Our first long-term home after years of moving around. A career for each of us in an industry we were passionate about.
But now she's dead. Dead to me anyway. That's the best way to deal with these things.
It's because I'm not a Korean family doctor, you see? The family practice needed to continue after five generations. And it had to be in the family. Her dad refused to sell to someone he didn't know. Something about leaving a lifetime's worth of patients to the unknown.
Three daughters' worth hadn't produced a medical heir to follow in his footsteps. So a doctor husband had to be found. And they found one. (Not me.)
His terms? The best daughter. My fiancΓ©. My ex, anyway.
The rest, as they say, is history. My history - the one you're reading. The good news is that everything else to follow is good news. But first, more of a background.
Our house... No, the house was a rundown old manor in the Florida Everglades. Or something like that. The real estate agent told us all sorts to try and shift the place. Being foreigners, we lapped it up. After all, we were only going to sell on the story to tourists. Airbnb at first - easy to get started. Then perhaps a proper BnB or hotel.
The target market was Korean tourists. They're very particular. And they'll heavily favour a place run by a Korean lady. Especially if it was renovated by one. I'll spare you the details there. I still don't understand some of them. But the place was stunning when we were finished with it.
The house has a classic old-school looking faΓ§ade. A Southern Belle, everyone calls it. I always wanted to install some sort of church bell to make it a pun. There's lots of white and grey wooden panelling. A big veranda all the way around. Kind of spooking looking in the right mist.
A total of 16 bedrooms on two levels arranged in two wings go back from either side of the house. These were designed for the guests. (8 is a lucky number in Asia, so it had to be 8, 16 or 24...) All rooms were en-suites with modern fit outs, but still true to the Southern Style. These days, the girls of the sorority live there, in accommodation far plusher than anyone else can offer students.
I live in the top floor of the main house with a rather large home office now it's just me in there. Most of the time, anyway. I have to check underneath my desk before sitting down in case someone is waiting for me down there, asking to be punished for some sort of sorority misdemeanour. Or to do penance as I instructed them to. More on that in another chapter.
The highlight of the house is the approach. The plot is at the corner of a small river and a creek. Throw in the swampy bits out the back and you pretty much have an island. Everything is swept by those sad old trees. Especially the boathouse - originally a rotting old shed on stilts in the water. These days it plays an important role in the initiation ceremony for new sorority sisters. More on that later too.
At the time we renovated the house to be Korean-proof, luck seemed on our side. Just after we purchased the place, the town rebuilt the bridge over the river. And we re-built the bridge over the creek to handle the busses that Korean tourists inevitably show up in. Between the two, we went from remote to accessible. The property value surged.
Then Florida State University added a campus on the other side of the town. That's why they upgraded the bridge over the river, the real estate agent told us afterwards. The new campus would be home to a list of majors, but the important one for this story is Arts and Sports Science. That was my opening to being happy. Very happy.
You see, FSU has a circus program. "One of two collegiate circuses in the USA" their website says. And I've been a part time circus instructor and performer most of my life. Instructor more than performer. Those that can't do, teach. It was only supposed to be a hobby, so I don't live with any disappointment or anything.
Anyway, FSU got me involved in their circus side of things. Thanks to an actual career in finance and an academic stint, I had the sort of credibility that your typical circus freak doesn't, even if he's better than me at everything circus related. The job allowed me to continue what I expected to miss most in my new home - flying trapeze.