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"I didn't think I could love you any more than I do daddy but somehow I do. I know that you were meant to be my daddy and I was meant to be your baby girl and anything else you want me to be." They kissed and slowly strolled back to the house. She noticed her pussy was still faintly throbbing and her legs were a little shaky and she loved it. His words echoed in her head as she felt his hand groping her ass, "I want to make you cum like this every day...several times a day", and it made her smile. Oh drat! No, not again!" Faith Rowel groaned out loud as she entered the lobby of her family's apartment building and saw the 'out of order' sign on the elevator. She HATED walking up the four flights of stairs to the apartment and it seemed like she'd had to do it a thousand times lately, even though it had actually only been once. And besides, her backpack must weigh a million pounds and she'd already had to haul it half a block from where the chauffeur dropped her off. Ever since she started fifth grade at her new school the stupid teacher made her carry around so many heavy books. And do homework! Plus she had to wear this stupid school uniform, with its scratchy pleated wool skirt and a tie. A tie! It was so unfair! Faith just wanted to get up to the flat, change into comfortable clothes and watch some afternoon television!
"Terribly sorry about the lift, miss," an unexpected voice said.
Faith spun around, throwing her luxurious red hair over her shoulder in the process. She blinked her bright green eyes at the older man sitting at the security desk. Normally she couldn't be bothered to notice who was there - they were just the hired help after all. But she knew the smiling gentleman at the desk wasn't one of the usual security men. And why was he just sitting there, smiling, when he should be doing something about getting the elevator working? Did he even care that she was going to have to trudge up four flights of stairs?! Indignant at the man's inaction, Faith said "Sorry doesn't get me up to the fourth floor! Can't you do something?"
The man with the bushy eyebrows and grey hair smiled even more broadly. "Oh, but I am doing something Faith. I'm sitting here waiting to assist you."
"It doesn't look like it!" Faith said in her most haughty ten-year-old voice. "It looks like you're just sitting there, while I'm going to have to lug this heavy backpack up four flights of stairs!" Faith didn't seem to notice that the man knew her name when he shouldn't.
"Would you prefer to use the elevator, dear?"
"Of course I would prefer to use the elevator!"
"Then we're of a mind, child. Here, let me give you my card."
The elderly gentlemen held out a small business card to Faith, who took it and read it with some effort and with a puzzled look. "Pr-Pr-Professor Im-Imrash West, PhD, R.A.P.E.M, Sp-Sp-Specializing in the Advanced Theory of Wishes." Faith looked up at the strange man with her big green eyes. "What in the world does R A P E M mean?"
"Royal Academy for the Practical Employment of Magic," Professor West said with a twinkle in his eye, "at your service, miss."
"What a bunch of rot!" Faith snorted and stomped her foot, throwing the Professor's card on the floor. "What does any of that have to do with getting the lift fixed."
"Well, you could wish for the lift to be fixed," West said. "But that seems a waste of your only wish. And besides, I'd need something with much more potential that just fixing the elevator once. Heaven knows, it might break again tomorrow."
"You can't really grant wishes! That's stupid."
"Have it your way, Faith. But it surely wouldn't hurt to try. Just imagine if the elevator was always there to take you up and down, up and down, your very own vertical chariot. But there would be a price to pay - you probably couldn't or wouldn't want to pay it."
"My daddy will pay! My daddy has lots of money!"
"Oh, really? Isn't that nice. But, really, my dear, you should let me explain how..."