Chapter 2 of 3 – Release

And it gets worse in this chapter. Honestly, be cautious.

She stopped long enough to change and headed out for the dressmakers she’d planned to visit earlier. The lunchtime excursion had only delayed her by a few hours, so she didn’t anticipate a problem.

Her phone rang a few times on the way, but it was only Harvey hound-dogging her, and he needed to learn who was in control, so she put it on silent and ignored it.

A doorbell tinkled merrily as she pushed her way into the boutique. The fact that it called itself such didn’t bode well for the price she was likely to be charged, but she had plans to deal with that.

An elderly woman with a supercilious smile appeared behind the counter.

“I’m hoping to have something like this made to my measurements for a class reunion this weekend.” She handed over a photograph of a young teenager in a very girly prom dress.

“It’s a little... young as styles go.”

“I’m trying to recapture something of my past.”

“Well, I can do it, but it’s the time factor you see. I’d have to put a number of other jobs on hold.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making out. I mean you have a dress in the window that’s not much different and it doesn’t have to be exact.”

“Well yes, but...”

“But you’d be delighted to help me recapture the magic of my first prom. In fact, you’re so taken by the romance of it all that you’re not going to work on anything else until it’s done. Furthermore, you’re not going to charge me more than half the display price for the dress, because you are so in love with the idea of my recapturing a romantic moment from my youth.”

“Yes, well let’s see, shall we?” she reached into the shop window and retrieved the dress. It was quite different from the one in the photograph, and between the alterations to make it fit and the redesign there was probably a couple of days work involved. “This dress is priced at two hundred and thirty dollars which, with the alterations... Listen, your story has touched my heart, so why don’t I offer it to you for say a hundred and fifteen?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you so much. When can I pick it?”

“Well, I could probably have it ready in by the end of tomorrow.”

“That would be ideal, thank you. Would it help if I left the photograph?”

“Oh yes, certainly.”

“And would a fifty-dollar deposit do?”

“Well, normally I’d want fifty percent.”

“But fifty dollars will do because when I come to pick up the dress, you’re going to offer it to me for a flat one hundred.”

“But fifty will do. You have such an honest face.”

“Thank you so much. I’ll see you at the end of tomorrow.”

She left the shop with a swing in her step and a smile on her face. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford the extra, but she did take exception to being taken advantage of and the old baggage had been ready to over charge her heaven knew how much. Two hundred dollars wasn’t a bad price for the dress and with the alterations maybe as much as four or five hundred, but the old biddy had been ready to push it into the thousands, so it served the bitch right.

Her phone buzzed. Fucking Harvey again. Oh well, time to find out what he wanted.

“Hello lover,” she greeted him.

“I can’t do this. You have to...”

“I have to, do I?”

“Fifty thousand is too much.”

“So’s a hundred thousand for that Corvette.”

“It’s worth a hundred thousand to me.”

“And it’s worth fifty thousand to me to take you all the way. You’re not the only one who can price gouge.”

“This is fucking inhuman, woman. You’ve left me with such a boner I can’t go out in public.”

“All because you love it so much taking my dick up your ass.”

“This isn’t funny!”

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. You put another nine k on the agreement – that’ll take us to thirty thousand all told – and I’ll come and deflated your little fella. Are you back at your showroom?”

“No! I’m still in the fucking hotel! I can’t get my fucking pants on!”

“Fine, I’ll see you in half an hour.”

“Half a fucking hour!”

“Well, I went out. You could have tried calling earlier.”

“I did you fucking cunt. You didn’t fucking answer me.”

“I really don’t like that word, Harvey.”

“Tough shit.”

“Do you want me to come to you? ‘cos if you do, you could try being a little more civil.”

“Fuck. Okay, sorry.”

“Better. So, I’ll see you in about half an hour.”

“Get here quicker if you can.”

She took her time. It was kind of petty, but she didn’t like being told what to do.

She found him pacing back and forth in a bathrobe which he pulled open to show his problem, which stood as rigid as a coat peg.

“We’re agreed on the price?”

“Yes, yes. Fucking sort it.”

She dropped to her knees and deep throated him. He cried out as more blood made it into his already distended organ. She licked at him and sucked at him and grazed her teeth down the full length of him. It took every trick she knew, but eventually he filled her mouth with his seed. She swallowed it down – all salty goodness, not to be wasted – and continued to suck at him until he turned completely flaccid.

“What about...”

“Oh no, I never said anything about that. I can suck you soft as often as you like, as long as you can afford it, but you are going to stay on the edge of climaxing from that ass fucking until someone comes along and takes you the rest of the way. Like I say, you can try and find someone else to take care of that for you, but I no-one will be able to make you feel as much of a dirty, disgusting submissive little bitch as I can, because you’re my little bitch, Harvey Lewis, aren’t you? And you don’t want anyone else.”

“Not for fifty fucking grand.”

“As you like. I’d put your pants on before your dick starts swelling up again. And remember what we agreed.”

“You really are a fucking bitch, you know that?”

“And you so make me want to strive to be a better person. Let me know if you’d like me to help you out like this again.”

-~oOo~

The following morning, Carrie woke to find her phone flooded with texts and emails. Most of them were from Harvey and consisted largely of abuse, but there was one she almost missed from Alison. It asked if they could meet at the coffee shop that morning and ended with, ‘I’m going anyway. I hope you’ll join me.”

Carrie checked her watch. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock and she was in the mood for a decadent breakfast. She dressed quickly, tidied her hair and added a touch of makeup.

“You look beautiful,” she told herself, and she did.

It was half past by the time she reached the coffee shop. A tearful Alison already sat in her usual place. She bought her usual mocha and a couple of choux buns to go with it. Pleasingly, they were about twice the size of the éclairs.

“You look like you need cheering up,” she said as she slid into the seat opposite her quarry.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I’m swelling up like a blimp.”

“Sometimes you just have to ignore the calorie count, sweetie.”

“Fuck. You are so right.” She grabbed one and bit into it.

Carrie reached across the table and rubbed Alison’s arm. “So, tell me what has you so upset,” she said. As if she didn’t know.

“It’s Harvey. He came home yesterday with this... this thing.

“What thing?” As if... Well, see above.

“I hardly know how to tell you. It’s... God, you know? You sort of strap it on like a belt and it gives you a... you know a...”

The action she was making would have been familiar to any young man. Carrie feigned ignorance; she was having too much fun.

“A what?”

“A fucking cock! And I don’t mean a small one. This would tickle your fucking tonsils if it went in all the way?”

“What the fuck? I mean what would he want with something like that? It’s not as if he doesn’t have one of his own, is it?”

“Of course he has one of his own. In fact, he had the worst stiffy I’ve seen on him. Almost as big as this fucking rubber thing.”

“Almost?”

“An inch shorter and not as big around. Anyway, he started begging for me to put this thing on and take him up the ass.”

“He didn’t!”

“He fucking did. I mean I never knew he was into shit like that. He never...”

“Ladies,” a disapproving voice said from over Carrie’s shoulder, “I must ask you to keep your voices down. Your conversation is disturbing my other guests.”

“You’re the fucking manager, aren’t you?” Alison asked.

“I am.”

“You’re the fucking asshole who won’t let us eat our cakes the way we want to.”

“Right, get out.”

“Please,” Carrie said, “my friend’s dealing with a rather nasty shock.”

“I know,” the manager said, “the entire café’s been hearing about it, and I’ve had enough. You,” he pointed at Alison, “are banned. As of now my staff have instructions not to serve you. You,” his finger turned to Carrie, “are on a final warning. Right now, you can take your ‘friend’ and get out of here.”

Carrie picked up the remaining choux bun. “You know what you can do with that final warning of yours, don’t you?” She licked off the excess cream in as sensuous a way as she could manage. “You can shove it where the sun don’t shine.” She very slowly pressed the cake into the man’s face and walked past him out onto the street.

“Oh my God! I can’t believe you did that.” Alison came trotting out onto the street behind her. She was more than a little plump now.”

“I only ever go in there to meet you these days. If he can’t show a little compassion when it’s needs, I don’t think I want anything to do with him or his place.”

“But that’s been my place since... well, forever.”

“Not any more by the looks of it. On the bright side, there are other coffee shops. Fancy trying that one over there?” They hadn’t walked more than half a block. Carrie led the way.

“Are you the manager?” she asked the girl behind the counter.

“No, but I am,” an older and sturdier woman told them, glaring at them warily.

“My friend and I are going to buy a couple of coffees and maybe a couple of cakes, and we’re going to sit in that window seat over there. It’s possible we may get a bit loud. There may be a few crude words, and we may talk about a few crude subjects. That’s not going to bother you. In fact, if anyone complains, you’re going to tell them they can always go somewhere else. When we end up deep throating a couple of éclairs, you’re going to find it funny.”

“Sure. Why not?”

Carrie turned back to the younger girl behind the counter. “Two large mochas and a couple of éclairs please.”

“No, I couldn’t. I’ve...”

“You’re upset and you need comfort food.”

“Well, yes I... suppose I do.”

They carried their purchases over to the window and sat. “I like this place better already,” Carrie smiled. “Coffee’s at least as good, chairs comfortable, and the view’s no worse.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Yeah, anyway, you were telling me about how Harvey came home sporting this immense erection and begging you to strap on an enormous dildo and fuck him up the ass.”

Alison looked around her. We were attracting a few stares, but the manager seemed oblivious.

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

“So what did you do?”

“Well, what any good wife would do under the circumstances. I fucked him up the ass. He kept screaming out for more and more, and we kept it up for an hour before I was too tired to keep going.

“He swore at me, so I figured I’d suck him off to make up for it, only I couldn’t, you know, finish him off.

“He spent the whole night squirming and writhing about and muttering – stuff like fucking bitch and I’ll fucking get her. I mean if I wanted any more proof he was cheating on me, and with someone who’s into all sorts of kinky shit. What do you think?”

“I don’t know. You’re going to want more proof than what someone murmurs in their sleep. Did you get one of those camera baby alarms like I suggested?”

“Yeah, but it hasn’t shown anything yet.” She pulled out her phone and brought up an app which showed an image a neatly made bed. Apparently, Alison was a floaty white chiffon nightdress sort of person, which suited Carrie quite well.

“You have it set to message you whenever it picks up any movement?”

“Yeah, and I checked it worked by going into the room, but there hasn’t been anything since I set it up. I mean, he’s not stupid enough to bring her back tour home, is he? He certainly hasn’t before now.”

“Never underestimate the stupidity of a guy when he’s thinking with his dick, and from what you described about him yesterday, that’s all he’s thinking with.”

“So, what do I do when I do catch him?”

“Oh, that’s a little bit up to you, but I think you’re going to be so disgusted and enraged by what you see when you do catch him that you’re only going to want to do one thing.”

“Oh? What’s that.”

Carrie picked up her éclair and slid the entire length of it in and out of her mouth. After a moment, Alison picked up hers and followed suit.

-~oOo~

Carrie left Alison finishing off both their coffees and reached in her handbag for her phone. Harvey’s last text had been just a few minutes ago and it had sounded pretty desperate. The phone vibrated in her hand even as she grinned down at his clumsily spelled out list of... well it was more one word repeated than a list. Time to put him out of his misery. Again, that wasn’t going to be entirely true as he was about to exchange one sort of misery for another.

“Harvey, hi. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever call.”

“What the fuck do you mean? I’ve been calling you for hours!”

“I know, Harvey, that was sarcasm. I had to wrap my phone in towels and put it in the bathroom. Honestly, don’t you want me to have my beauty sleep?”

“All I fucking know is you have to fix this. I’ve been climbing the fucking wall, and Alison’s no fucking good. I’ll book the hotel this morning. You have to come. Fucking please, I’m begging you.”

“You want me to suck you off?”

“No that just... It doesn’t last. Not even ten minutes. You have to fix this.”

“You know the price.”

“Yeah, but fuck. You got me stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

Carrie couldn’t help smiling at that. “Which am I, Harvey?”

“What?”

“I’m guessing you’re in the hard place right now.”

“Yeah, which makes you the heartless bitch with a rock in your chest.”

“Ooh Harvey. You hurt my feelings. That’s going to cost you.”

“How fucking much,” said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, not in money. But I’m bored of the hotel. I have something special in mind for this time.”

She told him.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Not at all. You’re going to love it, Harvey, even while you hate every minute of it. Even while you feel so disgusted with yourself you’ll want to just shrivel up.”

“Yeah, okay. Anything. But you have to fix this. No deal unless you leave me fixed.”

“I promise you I’ll do exactly that, Harvey. Shall we say thirty minutes? Oh, and bring the Corvette.”

She headed for her bank.

“I’d like to see the branch manager please.”

“Of course, miss.”

He was a tall, gaunt individual with greying hair and skin. He looked like he hadn’t smiled in years.

“What can I do to help you, Miss er...”

“White. Carrie White. I have an account I’d like to close out.”

“I’m sure that’s something with which any of my staff could help you.”

“I know, but then it’s not every day you get to pass the time with a beautiful woman, is it?”

The ghost of a smile haunted his face briefly. He turned to his computer.

“Miss Carrie White. You have ID.”

She handed over the check book and banker’s card.”

“Photo ID?”

“You don’t need to see any photo ID.” She waved her hand absently. These are not the droids you’re looking for.

“No. Of course not. Only we usually need some higher degree of proof when a customer makes a withdrawal of this magnitude.”

She sighed and pulled out the business card she’d taken from Harvey’s showroom on her first visit.

“This is my driver’s licence,” she said passing it across. It was the wrong size and made from a totally different material. The man looked at it for a moment, made a few notes and handed it back.

“And how would you like the funds?”

“I’d like a banker’s check made out to Harvey Lewis.”

“The automobile dealer? You should be careful with him, miss.”

“Oh, I am. He’s making me an amazing deal though.”

“As you wish. The full amount?’

“Twenty thousand dollars please. The rest I’ll take in cash.”

“There is only twenty thousand dollars in the account, miss.”

She thought about toying with him but decided against it. “Just my little joke,” she said.

He made out the check and passed it across.

“Thank you so much,” she said. “Oh, er, yes. You know that bank manager you sacked a couple of weeks ago? What was his name?”

“Jack Sanders. Such a shame. He was a good man.”

‘You know his friends at school humiliated him on the night of his junior prom?”

“I didn’t, no. Still, no excuse for what he did.”

“I agree, but you also know he has six children with a seventh on the way?”

“What’s your point, Miss White?”

“It seems there ought to be room for a little leniency. Mitigating circumstances and all that. Give him another week to stew then call him up and offer him a junior post. Probationary. Give him the opportunity to prove himself. I mean he did tell you about what he’d done wrong, didn’t he?”

“You seem to know an awful lot about the situation.”

“I went to school with him. We dated once. He’s not a terrible man, just lost his way a little.”

“I’ll consider your words Miss White.”

“Thank you.” She flashed him a bright smile. “You know you should get out and enjoy the sunshine a little. Life shouldn’t be all about work, and I know you’ll feel better for it.”

“Thank you, Miss White. Once again, I’ll consider it.”

She folded the check neatly and dropped it in her bag before walking out. She didn’t know where the magnanimous streak had come from. Possibly from being so close to the completion of her plan.

Besides, it was like she’d said, Jack wasn’t a bad guy and Betty wasn’t a total cow, so why not drop them a bit of a bone. They wouldn’t be anywhere near as well off, but they’d get by.

She hailed a taxi and gave the driver an address on the edge of town.

-~oOo~

“Not too shabby, Harvey.”

Harvey shrugged. It was amazing how nice a place you could afford if you didn’t mind selling the odd piece of rubbish. Like that Rabbit. He couldn’t understand why he’d sent it off to be auctioned. He could have turned a tidy profit on that. Not with his regular customers – that way he’d get the sort of reputation he couldn’t afford – but out of towners or old people who’d likely have business with the undertaker in a year or two. That was where he made the big profits; the ones that had paid for this house and his corvette.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said. “Look can we get on with this?”

“Not so fast my pretty. Is this your bedroom?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have a lot of choice, do you, Harvey. More than that, if I’m going to fuck you like the bitch you are, I’m going to want you to look the part. So why don’t you strip out of you clothes and slip on that delicious looking nightdress your wife left lying on the bed?”

“What! No fucking way?”

“Oh Harvey. And we were so close to having an agreement. It’s only the two of us here, and you are asking me to drill your ass, so I’m already going to treat you like a naughty little girl. You know deep down you really want to, and it really is the only way we’re going to ‘fix’ you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What do you mean?”

“The way you said fix just then.”

“I mean make it so you’re not so desperate for relief all the time. That is what we’re here for, isn’t it?”

“Oh fuck. What the hell.” He began to strip of his clothes.

Still standing outside the bedroom door, Carrie did the same.

“Now lie on the bed, face down,” she said.

Harvey did so.

“And call to me, like you so desperately want me.”

“Carrie, please come in here.”

“What do you want me to do, Harvey?” She pitched her voice quiet and sultry.

“I want you to fuck me up the ass.”

“Yeah, it makes you feel dirty and demeaned just asking for it, doesn’t it? But you so desperately need it, so beg me. Beg me like nothing else matters. Tell me in full graphic details what you want me to do to you. You’re going to feel so ashamed about it, but in your core you know nothing else matters and when I come to you, it’s going to be so much better than sex has ever been in your life.”

“Please come here, Carrie. I want you to fuck me until my brains explode.” He cringed as he said the words. This whole thing was so demeaning, but he needed it, and it was going to be so good. It had been fantastic when she’d done it to him before and she hadn’t even taken him to climax. This was going to be...

“Here I am you naughty little slut.” She lifted the nightdress. Floaty it might have been on Alison, but on Harvey it was tight and looked so ludicrous with little remained of that fucking stupid comb over.

She had a double finger dollop of lube ready and slid between his cheeks.

“Oh God, yes. That’s so good. More. You’ve got to give me more.”

She parted his legs and settled between them bring her piece of equipment to bear. She tickled him between the cheeks for a few tantalising seconds.

At the last possible moment, he noticed the dildo sitting on Alison’s nightstand. “Hang on a minute. You’re not wearing...”

“I don’t need to my lover. I have my own equipment.” She thrust home.

“Oh, fuck.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, deeper, harder, fucking fuck me.”

She could hear the yearning in his voice, the way his passion rose. It was exhilarating. She could feel him winding up, soaring towards that climax.

“We’re going to reach that moment of release soon, my lovely. It’s going to be the best thing you ever experienced. Better than the first time you made love. Better than the first time you made a great sale or scored a touchdown. Better than all of those things put together. And once you’ve been there, you’re going to want to go back. You are going to beg for just about anyone to screw you up the ass. And every time you do this – and believe me Harvey, you’re going to do this a lot – you are going to realise fully how demeaning it is, and how much of a slut you are. You are going to feel like every girl you screwed and dumped, like a filthy piece of trash. But you are going to be so hung up on being screwed like this, you are going to want, even need to do it again, because it’s going to feel so good. You can feel it coming, can’t you, Harvey? You can feel the tension building. So much you can’t think. So much it fills you until there is no thought there, just sensation. It’s coming Harvey, can you feel it coming? Here it comes.”

“Arrrgh! Nyargh..Nngn. O fuck.”

Carrie eased off as she sensed him reaching that point of release.

“So good,” she murmured. “Each additional thrust,” she rammed into him, “is going to bring you back up to that summit. It’s going to rob you of thought and leave you floating in a pool of euphoria, leaving you incapable of thought but so open to suggestion. Anything anyone tells you to do in this state you’re going to do without question. Here comes another one.”

“Nngh.”

“Here’s a statement to say that our agreement on the Corvette now stands at eighty thousand paid in kind. You know, two, four and ten thousand for the first three times, then another five for that first blow job and nine for the last one you begged me to give you. And now the fifty-thousand for this little service. It’s all itemised here, so all you need to do is sign. Hang on, here comes another one.”

“Nngh!”

“Great now, here’s a pen, and squiggle. Lovely. One more thrust.”

“Nngh! Don’t stop.”

“I have to soon or you won’t survive this. One last thing, Harvey. This is a banker’s check made out to you for twenty thousand dollars, which means I’ve now paid you the full price of the car. One more thrust and you’re not even going to care because this is so good. So wrong, so disgusting, so demeaning, but so fucking good.

“I’m sorry, Harvey, but we have to stop now. You’re going to feel so spent you won’t be able to move until Alison gets here, not even to take off your wife’s nightdress. You feel so wrong and pathetic wearing it. It’s not the sort of thing a man should do, and you are so much of a man, aren’t you Harvey? When your wife gets home you’re going to prove it to her, nightdress or not. You’re going to grab her by the hair and push her onto her knees and demand she sucks you off. Because a real man dominates his woman, doesn’t he Harvey, just like I dominated you, you fucking filthy bitch.

“One last signature here, to show the full payment has been made on that lovely car, and one more little poke to tweak that wonderful feeling so you don’t feel too bad about it. Now it’s time for me to pull out of you.”

“Naaaww.”

“Yes, my lover, but don’t worry, this won’t be your last experience like this. When you reach that point when you want it so bad, you’re not going to care about how wrong you know it is, you’re going to go out and find someone to fuck your brains out, and it will be almost as good as this. Never quite as good, because, Harvey, you are never going to forget me. I am going to be the best lay you will ever have, and you’ll dream of me every night, even when you discover who I truly am.

“Now, you’re going to have to excuse me. I need to clean up and go before Alison gets here. I’ll leave you the strap on in case you decide you prefer to be bum fucked by a woman rather than a man.”

She walked through to the bathroom. There were a lot of mirrors, so she closed her eyes briefly and repeated over and over, ‘you are a beautiful woman.’ When she opened her eyes, there she was looking back at herself. Faint hints of strawberry in her hair, those startling green eyes and that wonderful smile. It was a face she could have fallen in love with had it belonged to anyone else, and she was just so delighted be its owner.

The body as well. Pert breasts and curves in all the right places. Milky white skin that looked like it would burn at the first hint of sun. So gorgeously, utterly feminine.

She smiled at herself, running a basin of hot water and making good use of Alison’s washcloth to clean off the aftermath of the sex. She dried herself down and sauntered back through the bedroom, luxuriating in her own nakedness.

“Goodbye Harvey. It was so good getting reacquainted.”

“Ngwer?” He flopped about on the bed in a boneless state. She sidestepped him and glanced out the window.

“And there’s Alison, which is my queue to leave.”

She retrieved her clothes and stepped through into the kitchen to dress. She was hidden from the front door for now, but she’d have to be quick putting her clothes on. She skipped the pantyhose – it was warm enough outside not to need them, so she bunched them up and dropped them in her bag. The rest took a bit of wriggling, but she slipped into her short skirt and tight blouse with a minimum of fuss. The shoes would have to wait; they’d make too much noise on the hardwood floor. She flattened herself against a wall and watched as Alison let herself in, dropped her keys in the bowl by the door and headed directly for her bedroom.

Carrie tiptoed towards the front door, listening to raised voices from the room next door. Alison’s was raised to a higher pitch, as might be expected of a woman coming home to confront her husband lying on her bed wearing her nightclothes, both bed and nightdress soiled from the recent anal sex. Harvey’s was indistinct at first then increasingly loud and insistent, accompanied by Alison’s squeals of protest. Carrie retrieved the Corvette keys from the bowl and, just as she was about to slip out of the house and into her new car, Harvey gave an immense bellow of pain, outrage and terror.

Carrie tapped a few digits into the house phone and lifted it to her ear.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“I just heard a horrible scream coming from this house. I think someone’s being murdered or tortured or something.” She gave the address and dropped the phone, leaving it off the hook in case the police wanted to trace it.

Being a sixty-five, the Corvette had a manual transmission. Carrie hadn’t driven much and had only a passing familiarity with stick shift. It couldn’t be that complicated though. She slid the keys into the steering column and started the car. Her first attempt to put it in gear resulted in a painful grinding noise, but then she remembered the clutch and the second time was fine until she took her foot off the pedal and stalled it. Third time was the charm. She almost didn’t hear Alison calling to her as she gunned the motor to life again and slipped it into gear. She caught sight of the now distinctly plump woman in her rear view mirror, and couldn’t help grinning wickedly at the blood covering the front of her clothes. She hit the gas and sped off. Well, bunny hopped really. It wasn’t the cleanest of getaways, but she’d get used to the car soon enough.

A police car sped past in the opposite direction as she made good her escape.

-~oOo~

The hotel had an underground carpark. She was driving quite smoothly by the time she arrived there and managed to talk the attendant into letting her in. A brief stop at reception and she managed to persuade the attendant to issue her a pass for the parking. She retreated to her room and stripped off for a long shower.

She felt good. So good, but she needed to wash Harvey’s stink off her. She had time; lots of it. The only thing she had to do with the rest of her day was pick up her prom dress, and that would be just before the end of the working day. It wasn’t yet mid-morning and look at what she had accomplished.

She luxuriated in the feel of the power shower. It stung a little, but it was deeply cleansing. A change of shampoo and shower gel would alter her smell. She’d have to change a few other things too, she thought, though not yet. She still had to be the same person to pick up the dress.

Her phone pinged as she towelled her hair dry. Fucking Alison. Hadn’t they arrested her? She blocked the number, and Harvey’s just in case. They might trace her phone if she was unlucky. She powered it down and removed the SIM card. No-one else had her number, so there was no point in keeping it. She’d head out a little early and get a new one.

On second thoughts, why was she bothered? The cops would believe anything she told them, wouldn’t they? She picked up the SIM.

On third thoughts, she was better at persuading face to face. Anything that put distance and technology between her and whoever she was talking to tended to mess things up. It had taken her months to master her voice so she’d sound the same in person or remotely.

No, better to let them find her in person. And if they queried why she hadn’t answered...

She put the Sim back in, turned the phone back on, waited for the login screen and dropped it in the toilet.

Shame, it was a nice phone, but accidents happened.

Without a phone, she had nothing to read other than the Gideon’s Bible, nothing to browse the internet with – well maybe the smart TV, but they never worked that well – nothing to listen to music on. Again, the TV had MTV hidden somewhere in its vast array of options, but MTV wasn’t really music, was it? Banging on the bongos like a chimpanzee and all that.

In the end, she wrapped her wet hair in a towel, wrapped herself in one of the room’s plush bath robes and settled down on her bed in front of a classic film.

She woke some time later to the sound of a fist pounding on the door. She opened it blearily on about the third repeat.

“Mmm?” she more or less said.

“Who the hell are you?” a man in a tailored suit shouted at her.

“I could ask the same thing,” she said blearily.

“I’m the manager of this hotel,” he barked, “and unless you can offer me a very good explanation for why you’re staying in a room that’s marked for renovation, I’m going to be calling the police.” He had his phone out.

“Oh. I had one of those,” she said pointing at his phone, “but I dropped mine in the toilet. Why are you checking on a room that’s closed for renovation?”

“What business is that of yours? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Sleeping. I’d have thought that was obvious from the bed hair and the droopy eyes. Now let’s try again. You want to tell me what brought you here.”

“I don’t expect the television to be used in a room that’s being renovated.”

“Oh yeah, my bad. Usually I’d stream from my phone, but like I said...”

“You don’t seem to understand how much trouble you’re in. How long have you been staying here?”

“Two or three weeks I suppose.”

“Which means you owe me about five thousand dollars. This is one of our most expensive rooms.”

“I suppose it would be, if it weren’t being renovated.”

“It’s not being renovated,” he shouted. “I’m calling the police.” He stabbed at his phone.

“You can if you like, but you’ll only be able to make chicken noises at them.”

“Buuurk.”

“Only when you try to tell someone – anyone – what you actually found in this room. The words will form in your mind, but they’ll come out like...”

“Beurk. Buck buck begark!”

“Like that.”

He stared at his phone. “What the fuck.”

“No, I’ve done enough of that recently. But why don’t you come in and sit down for a minute and I’ll tell you all about it?”

The manager entered uncertainly and sat in the chair by the door.

“I’m not insisting, you understand, but it’s been ages since I’ve done so, and I’m led to believe it helps me every now and then to share my little secret.

“You see, I have this ability. I don’t know where it comes from, or how it works, but all I have to do is tell someone the way things are going to be, then as far as they’re concerned that’s the way they are. Even myself. Perhaps especially myself, because when I convince myself, the effect extends to anyone nearby, at least as long as they are nearby. Watch this.”

Carrie held up her right hand and it transformed I to a crab claw.

“Fuck me.”

“I told you, I really don’t want to.” Her hand changed back. “I mean I could if I wanted.” She stood and parted her bath robe to reveal her exquisite body. “All I need to do is tell myself I have a...”

“Oh shit, no! That’s...”

Carrie looked down at the twelve-inch cock she’d just grown and stroked it gently. “I don’t know if it’s real, but who cares. It feels real to me, and it would feel real to you if I stuck it up your ass. Or, I don’t know, I could tell you you had a vagina...”

“Please God, no!”

“You don’t have a vagina. You have a exactly what you’ve always believed you have, only maybe now you have little more control over when you reach that point of climax. You know, you’ll be able to last longer in bed. Better for both you and your partner.

“But I’ve never wanted one of these.” It shrank back into her, “so you see me exactly how I want you to see me. Exactly how I want to see myself.

“My shrink used to tell me – oh, I should mention, I spent the last twelve years in an asylum. One where the principal psychiatrist was probably one of the last dinosaurs of his profession. He still believed in shock therapy and lobotomy if you can believe that. He certainly didn’t believe in gender dysphoria. Kept telling me for over a decade that it was just mind over matter, and if I tried hard enough to believe I was a man, then eventually I’d believe myself.”

“You were a ma...”

“Only on the outside. There’s always been a girl underneath, and in my mind she’s always looked like this. Anyway, you know that famous quote about madness being doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? It occurred to me that the real madman was running our asylum.

“Certainly he was driving me to the edge of madness. It may have been him that woke this ability in me, or it may have been the childhood trauma that put me in that place to begin with. All I know is one day I’d had enough of his shit, and I yelled at him, “Why don’t you try it? Why don’t you try living with the feeling that every moment of every day when you’re not allowed to express yourself as the girl you know yourself to be inside, you’re just going to want to scream and scream and scream?

“You know, he started screaming then and there, and he kept screaming until he made it to the women’s locker room, tore off his clothes and put on the nearest dress he could find in his size.

“They put him in the room next to mine. As long as he’s allowed to wear a frilly dress he’s calm, but any time anyone tries to undress him, he starts yelling like a two-year-old in a tantrum.

“That was the first time my ability manifested that I know of. Certainly the first time I noticed it.

“I started trying it out in little ways. I’d tell the nurses I’d already taken my meds and they’d move on without giving them to me. Then I started experimenting with myself. I figured if there was something supernatural about it, maybe I could change myself physically, so I imagined this, and there I was. I imagined myself in a smart skirt suit and lab coat and told everyone I was a visiting doctor, and they let me walk right out of there.

“I imagined myself in something a little more revealing and the next car to drive past offered me a lift into town. From there, I went into a high-end dress shop that catered for women in my size and changed my asylum pyjamas – which, insidentally, transformed back as soon as I took them off – into a pretty expensive dress and accessories. When they challenged me on the way out, I told them I’d already paid for them and showed them a scrap of paper which I said was the receipt.”

“That’s theft, like your use of this room.”

“Maybe, but you could say the prices they were charging were legalised robbery, same as what you’d be charging me for this place.”

“You charge what people are prepared to pay.”

“Which is how you justify your form of robbery. Would you like me to change your mind about that?”

“No. No thanks.”

“Besides, this whole fucking society robbed me of the last twelve years of my life. I was stuck in that place and nobody gave a shit, so why should I give a shit about taking something back because now I have the ability to do so?”

“You make a fair point.”

“I’ve scared you now. Fear makes everyone agreeable, doesn’t it? And I suppose you have every reason to be scared. I mean a mad woman – or man; you’re not to know – with the ability to make such profound changes to someone’s perception of reality? You have no idea what they might do.

“Or maybe I’m not mad, or only mad in the sense of being immensely angry and looking for a bit of revenge. I could tell you about that if you like, but then I’d have to make sure you couldn’t tell anyone else.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Fair enough. I’ll be out of here after the weekend, anyway, so you won’t have to stress over this situation for long. Just tell them one of the workmen had the TV on and you hung around to give him a yelling at. Or whatever you like. Just remember, every time you try to tell anyone about me...”

“Chicken noises.”

“Yeah, and every time you make chicken noises trying to talk about me, you’ll forget a bit of what you found up here.”

He looked nervously at the door.

“You can go. I’ve no reason to keep you.”

It was midafternoon. Still an hour before she had anywhere to be. Still, the police might be out looking by now, so it would be good to allow a little time for them to interfere. She dressed and smartened herself up, then headed for the door.

The manager was standing behind the reception desk when she arrived in the foyer. She smiled as he studiously avoided her gaze.

Out on the high street she soon found a shop selling cell phones, and it even had the model she preferred. She went in.

“That is right, isn’t it? You have a smart phone in the window priced at a dollar.”

“What? Do we?”

“Yeah.” She named the model and where it was in the window.

“Show me.”

She pointed at the one she wanted. “See? The price reads one dollar.”

“It does. That must be a mistake though.”

“Maybe it’s some jilted woman trying to get rid of her ex’s stuff. There’ll probably be a Vee Eight Mustang round the corner for five bucks.”

“I’m going to have to check with my manager.”

“Do that. Bring him out here to talk to me.”

“Er, sure.”

“What appears to be the trouble.”

“You have a phone in the window marked at a dollar. I’d like to buy it.”

“Well obviously it’s a mistake. I’m afraid we can’t sell it at that price.”

“Why don’t you check in your records. You’ll most likely find it marked as a promotional offer.”

He reluctantly did so. “Well blow me down. One hundred thousandth unit supplied. Mark at one dollar promotion. Take photograph of the lucky purchaser for our records. You don’t mind if we take a photograph, do you?”

“Not if this will buy me the phone.” Carrie held up a dollar bill. “Besides, I photograph really well. Whatever you see on that little screen will look exactly like what you see right here.” It was a pain saying things like that, but cameras couldn’t be fooled by her mind games. When they sent the photograph through to head branch, the fact there was no promotion would not be the biggest surprise waiting for them.

With the phone bought and paid for, she left looking for somewhere else to set up a contract. It wouldn’t do for them to have a way of tracking her down once they figured out she conned them out of a thousand dollars’ worth of phone.

“Excuse me, ma’am, would you be Carrie White?”

She turned to find a couple of uniformed policemen studying a photo fit image and comparing it to her.

“Am I in trouble, officer?” she asked.

“That remains to be seen ma’am. Are you acquainted with either Alison or Harvey Lewis.”

“Both of them. Harvey sold me a car today, and Alison and I have been meeting for coffee regularly. We met early this morning as it happens. Why, has something happened to them?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am, but Mrs Lewis has been asking us to contact you. We tried to call you earlier, and when you failed to pick up, we came looking.”

“I had an accident with my phone. As you can see, I just replaced it.” She held up the carrier bag with the new phone in it.

“Well, that answers one question at least. I’m still going to have to ask you to accompany us to the precinct.”

“Will it take long? Only I have business at one of the town boutiques in a couple of hours.”

“Well, let’s say if you’re still downtown in a couple of hours, you’re going to have more important things to worry about besides your business with this boutique.”

“Oh dear, that sounds rather ominous. Well, anything I can do if it’ll help Alison.”

“How long have you known the Lewis’s, ma’am?”

“I hope you won’t consider me rude, but I think I’ll wait until we’re at your precinct before I answer any more of your questions. Unless of course by answering them, I can save myself the journey.”

“Sorry, that won’t be possible.”

“Alright. Do I need to bring anything? Documents relating to the car purchase for instance?”

“No ma’am, I doubt that will be necessary. If we need anything, we can always pick it up later. The patrol car’s over here, if you’ll follow me.”

The station wasn’t very far, which was hardly surprising as you could probably walk from one side of the town to the other in half an hour, even in heels.

She was let out of the back of the patrol car and into the police station. It was a small place, as befits the size of town, so it wasn’t long before she saw Alison across the crowded office, looking somewhat larger than life in a bright orange jumpsuit.

“Carrie!” she called across the room. “I did it. It wasn’t as soft as an éclair, but he fucking deserved it. You know who was fucking screwing him?”

“Miss White, I must ask you not to engage with Mrs Lewis.”

She didn’t need to engage further; she had all the information she needed. She let the officer lead her away to his desk. There were cameras about, but nothing to worry her for a while.

“Miss White – it is Miss, isn’t it?”

“Well, I’m not married.”

“Miss White, in the course of our investigations, we’ve been told that you and Mrs Lewis partook of a certain lewd display involving cream cakes.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Did you or did you not...”

“Yes, we fucking did. Do you know how demeaning it is for a woman to suck a man off? I mean, I know it’s kind of a fantasy for most of you guys, but imagine it from our perspective for a moment. Some guy expects you – I mean expects you – to be okay with the idea of him sticking his penis in your fucking mouth and having you suck at it until you get a mouthful of crap that was never meant to go in there. You can’t blame us for fantasising about biting down on him? Fuck yeah, I made out that a cream cake was some fucker’s cock, but would I ever actually bite down on it? In real life? Of course fucking not! It’s wishful fucking thinking. It’s a way of coping with having to do the fucking deed every now and then. Don’t tell me you never went to the shooting range and fired off a couple of magazines of bullets into a target imagining it was some fucking asshole perp who fucking deserved it but was clever enough to make sure you never had the evidence you needed.”

“That’s different.”

“How? You have your way of blowing off steam in a safe way, we have ours.”

“Except your friend Alison did it for real.”

“The fuck you say!”

“She quite literally bit of her husband’s penis. He’s in hospital now with surgeons doing their best to save what they can.”

“That’s awful. I mean he was a bit of dodgy dealer when it came to cars, but that doesn’t mean he deserved...”

“What we are trying to decide is whether you were complicit in the crime.”

“Fucking complicit? I may have introduced Alison to that particular way of eating an éclair, but it was just a bit of fun. She told me she was having trouble with her marriage and I figured it was a way I could help her deal with it.”

“You never intended...”

“What kind of fucking question is that? You can’t think I actually meant for her to bite off her husband cock?”

“No of courses not, but...”

“But fucking what? You should be ashamed of yourself. Just because some woman takes it into her head to object to the idea of men demanding oral sex, you think you can accuse me of persuading someone I just met to mutilate her husband. How fucking dare you?”

“Miss White, your involvement in the case is more than coincidental...”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Well, perhaps not, but the evidence...”

“The evidence shows that I gave Alison Lewis a way to cope with her fucking husband fooling about on her, and I bought a fucking car from him, which he fucking overcharged me for.”

“Miss White. Did you at any stage have sex with Mr Lewis?”

“What the actual fuck?”

“Please answer the question.”

“Harvey Lewis hasn’t been within sniffing distance of my vagina. He’s a revolting old man and I wouldn’t want him near me for love nor money.”

“How about for a sixty-five Corvette?”

She stared at him with cold eyes, unflinching and unblinking for half a minute before he turned away.

“Mr Lewis set a value of one hundred thousand dollars on his car, which is about half as much again as it’s worth, but then he did tell me he didn’t want to part with it. I believe He set the price in an attempt to put me off.

“Maybe against my better judgement, I agreed to his price and started making down payments. He has a finance schedule on his computer and in paper that shows payments made against the car to its full agreed value.”

“Yes, we found the schedule, and it does cover the full amount.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Well ma’am, apart from the final payment by banker’s check, we can’t find any sign of the money.”

“And how exactly is that my problem?”

“Well...”

“Is there a record of payment made?”

“Yes but...”

“If there’s a record of payment made, then payment must have been made.”

“Yes ma’am, but there’s a question mark over whether any of the other payments were made with actual money, or maybe there was some payment in kind.”

This time she stared him down for a full minute.

“You think Harvey would pay fifty thousand dollars to fuck me?”

“You seem to be aware of the amount.”

“Of course I’m aware of the amount. I fucking paid it to him. Would you pay fifty thousand dollars to go to bed with me? I mean I know I’m good looking, but I’m not that good looking.

“Besides, if he was prepared to accept one fuck with me as paying off half the value of his car, and I was prepared to give it to him, why in fucks name would I give him a check for twenty thousand dollars to conclude the deal?”

“I don’t have an answer to that question, but I would like to know your whereabouts between nine o’clock and eleven o’clock this morning.”

“I don’t really recall much of it. As I mentioned, I had a coffee early with Alison, but I’m sure we parted company before nine. At some stage I did cross paths with Harvey – he insisted on meeting at his house – to finalise the sale of the car, then when I had the paperwork, he sort of shooed me out the house.

“I asked him where the keys were, and he told me to come back in an hour.”

“Which of course you did.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to make of it at first, so I sort of went with it. I’m not sure how long I wandered around the neighbourhood, but I got bored after a while and came back. There was another car in the driveway and I could hear arguing when I stuck my head through the door.

“I didn’t know what to do. I hardly wanted to interrupt, especially since whoever it was sounded like they were building up a head of steam. Then I noticed the Corvette keys in a bowl by the door and helped myself.

“Just as I was about to leave, there was this blood curdling scream, so I called nine-one-one from the house phone and ran away.”

“You ran away?”

“What else was I going to do? I mean I’m not particularly proud of myself, but I’m not exactly strong. If I’d interrupted, I could have ended up as another victim.

“Anyway, I hadn’t counted on the car being stick shift. I don’t have that much experience with stick...”

“Sure. That’s what we’re trying to figure out, isn’t it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing. Go on.”

“There isn’t anything more to tell. I ground the gears a bit and stalled the car once, then I thought I saw this figure covered in blood in the rest view mirror and I just panicked. I drove out of there as fast as I could go.”

“And I suppose no-one saw you during all this time?”

“The Lewis’s live in a rather secluded neighbourhood.”

“So nothing to prove that you were not, in fact, the reason for the argument between Mr and Mrs Lewis?”

“Oh, if you want that, why don’t you ask Alison?”

“I’m sorry?”

“She told me she thought Harvey was messing around – after the way he behaved this morning, I wouldn’t be surprised – so I suggested to Alison she hide one of those nanny-cams in her bedroom. She showed me this morning, and it had a good view of the bed.”

The interviewing policeman stood up and left for a minute. When he came back, he had Alison’s phone unlocked and was scrolling through the videos on the nanny-cams app. He grunted and set it on the desk so they could watch it together.

Harvey walked into the bedroom, stripping off his clothes before pulling the nightdress on the bed over his head. He lay down on his stomach and called over his shoulder, “Carrie, please come in here.”

“That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Carrie shrugged. “Not exclusively.”

“I want you to fuck me up the ass,” Harvey continued.

They could just about make out a murmuring in the background.

“Please come here, Carrie. I want you to fuck me until my brains explode.”

“Sounds like something I can imagine someone saying to yo...”

A naked man walked into the room. Short hair, middle aged spread just about visible. No further details since he had his back to the camera. He lifted Harvey’s nightdress and stuck two fingers up his ass.

“Oh God, yes,” Harvey called out. “That’s so good. More. You’ve got to give me more.”

The newcomer slid Harvey’s legs apart and climbed on top.

“Hang on a minute. You’re not wearing...”

There was an indistinct, murmured response, the voice perhaps a little high pitched for a man. He settled between Harvey’s legs and thrust home.

“Oh, fuck.”

“That’s what I’m doing.” The voice was more distinct now.

“Yeah, fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, deeper, harder, fucking fuck me.”

The movement continued for nearly half an hour, becoming slowly more energetic, during which time the man seemed to lean close to Harvey’s ears and whisper sweet nothings to him. Eventually he slowed.

“Arrrgh! Nyargh..Nngn. Oh fuck.”

That moment of release then a gentler, slower occasional thrust accompanied by Harvey’s moans of evident pleasure. The man had something in his hand which he placed on the bed in front of them both. A sheet of paper and a pen, it looked like.

“Nngh,” said Harvey taking the pen and scrawling a signature. “Nngh!” again and another signature. “Nngh! Don’t stop.”

Another piece of paper, another signature, another indistinct speech from the man on top, then he pulled out.

“Naaaww,” Harvey cried out pathetically.

The man disappeared into the ensuite bathroom then reappeared a few minutes later folding the papers. Harvey flopped about on the bed helplessly. The naked man stepped past him and left the bedroom.

“That didn’t look a lot like me,” Carrie said coldly.

“No. I er...”

The app was already playing the next video. Alison stormed I to the bedroom.

“What the fuck, Harvey? What the actual fuck?”

Harvey rolled over and murmured something indistinct.”

“We’re going to have to see if we can clear up this sound,” the policeman said.

The sound may have been indistinct, but the expression of post-coital bliss was unmistakeable, as was the rapid swelling under his nightie.

“What the fuck did you say? You did that in our bed! Wearing my clothes!! And you say that was the best you’ve had!!? All these years we’ve been together and now you’re telling me you’re a faggot who likes to take it up the ass?”

“Don’t talk to me like that woman!” Harvey growled, sitting up. “Come here and deal with this right now!” He grabbed her by the hair and pushed her to her knees, lifted the hem of his nightdress and pushed her face downwards.

“I swear, Harvey, you stick that fucking thing in my mouth, you’re going to lose it.”

“Don’t talk back woman. You’re my fucking wife, now do what I fucking tell you to.”

He took a double fist full of hair and rammed her onto himself so hard she visibly gagged.

“Oh yeah. Oh fucking yeah. That’s what it’s about.” He pulled her head back and forth a couple of times then stopped suddenly as she went rigid.

The look of mixed rage and terror matched the sound that came out of his throat. Alison fell back, spitting out something long a vaguely sausage like as blood spurted everywhere.

The policeman reached forward with shaky hands to stop the playback. His face was pale and he had his legs crossed.

“So, officer?” Carrie glowered at the policeman. “Still think I had something to do with this?”

“Er, no. I still think it’s a coincidence though, your having the same name.”

“My name is Carolina. After watching that, I don’t think I ever want anyone calling me Carrie again.”

“And the missing money...”

“A man depraved enough to do that, and you still think I’m responsible for money going missing? Where’s the man in charge here? I think I’ve had about as much as I can stomach.”

“Er. Sheriff?”

An older man in a slightly more ornate uniform turned enquiring eyes their way.

“Sheriff,” Carrie said, “I came down here – I wasn’t given much choice mind – to help a friend. Since arriving, I’ve been accused of theft and solicitation and incitement to assault, all without evidence, and I haven’t been allowed to speak to my friend, though I’m not sure I want to now, given what I just saw her do. I’ve had about as much as I can take, so unless you want to find me a solicitor – and believe me, if that’s the way you want to go, I’ll be filing the mother of all fucking lawsuits against you and your men – you can have me taken back into town and left the fuck alone.”

The sheriff glared at his subordinate. “If what she says is true, you can apologise to her and take her anywhere she wants to be. Miss, you have my apologies and those of my department.”

“Can I speak to Alison briefly?”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to.”

“I’ve changed my mind, and I think I owe her a piece of mine. And you owe me a little consideration”

They led her over to a holding cell where Alison sat alone in her orange jump suit.

“Did you see?” she said. “We went to school with that guy. I thought they locked him up though; sent him to the funny farm. Fucking faggot. I never thought Harvey was like that. Did you see though? Just like a cream cake. Tougher though and not so sweet.”

“I can’t believe you’d actually do something like that, Ali. I mean,” she leaned in close and whispered, “I’d have swallowed that fucker, you fat fucking lightweight.”