Chapter 1 of 3 – Draw

This one's a rough one. Proceed at your own risk.

“Large mocha please, and if I could have a couple of those mouth-watering éclairs... Thank you so much.”

It was a deliciously sexy voice, a silky smooth contralto that was enough to make you question your sexuality all on its own.

Alison turned, fully expecting to see a body appropriate to someone with such an evident cake addiction, but she was, on the one hand, disappointed to find the voice’s owner possessed a slender curving figure which, on the other hand, was as much of delight to her eyes as her voice had been to her ears. Long, wavy strawberry blonde hair, brilliant green eyes and the merest hint of a spray of freckles across her button nose. A full, sensual mouth showed hints of brilliant white teeth beneath. Alison squeezed her thighs in response to the moist softness spreading in her loins and sipped at her calorie free black coffee, turning her attention back out the window beside her.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Alison crossed her legs in an effort to control the renewed surge of dampness and looked around the cafe with an expression of mild confusion. Inwardly, she berated herself. ‘Get a hold of yourself. You’re as heterosexual as they come, and happily married – well married at least – to your high-school sweetheart.’

“I know,” the voice said with a come-fuck-me chuckle, “the place is almost empty and I could sit pretty much anywhere, but I kind of feel like company. Tell me to go screw myself if you want.”

‘Come screw me, more like,’ Alison thought. Those eyes were so astonishingly emerald green, seeming to beckon to her. And she had a delicious aroma of spiced vanilla. Alison force her pinched features into a tight smile and waved at the chair opposite in invitation.

The newcomer sat, breathing out that familiar sigh of relief as she slid her feet out of her heels and reached down to rub life into at least one of her feet.

“You have to wonder why we bother, don’t you? I mean I know they look so good, but god do they hurt any time you have to walk much further than the curb outside your front door, am I right?”

Alison had never really given it much thought, but now that she did, her feet did ache. The gorgeous bitch took a sip of her coffee and rolled her eyes with evident relish. The foam moustache this left her with made her look just that much more fucking cute. Alison wasn’t sure if she hated her more or if she found her more enchanting. A brief moment’s reflection brought her to the annoying realisation that both were true.

“How do you do that?” Alison asked as her newly acquired companion bit into an éclair. “A thousand calories of coffee, five hundred calories in each of those.”

“I know what you mean. You have to believe, it takes a five-mile run to burn off the calories in just one of these bad boys, but they are just sooo addictive. Listen, you’re absolutely right, I don’t need two of them. You should have the other, I really didn’t ought to. No, I mean it. You’d be doing me a favour. Go on, live a little.”

They were the sort of thing she’d spent all of her adult life avoiding. She could hear her mother’s admonishing tones, ‘A moment on the lips, lifetime on the hips,’ but the stranger’s voice was so enticing. Years of self-control crumbled before her arguments. Just one wouldn’t do any harm would it? She picked up the second éclair and bit into it.

God, it was so fucking good! It wasn’t just the sweet chocolate or the silky-smooth cream sliding down her throat, there was a phallic element to the experience. Harvey still had her suck him off occasionally even this long into their marriage. He wasn’t quite as big around as the éclair, but lengthwise he wasn’t far off. Just that she always felt like she wanted to bite down on him these days, and the experience of her teeth slice into the delicate pastry and feeling her mouth fill with creamy goodness was just so...

Her companion chuckled at her, giving her a knowing smile before sliding the remains of her own éclair in and out of her mouth. No suggestion about it, it was completely deliberate, as was the savage delight with which she bit into it. Cream leaked everywhere and both of them giggled as she chased after the escaping dribbles of her pastry. She chewed for a few seconds then swallowed down her mouthful.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could? I mean you could pretty much justify it, couldn’t you? That thing was never supposed to go in there, so who could blame you if you chose to retaliate?”

Alison found herself liking this newcomer. I mean she hated her guts for being so drop dead gorgeous, especially after showing so little concern over her calorie intake, but to rebel against the constant battle against the bulge felt so wonderful. And those éclairs were so moreish. Not this time, but maybe next time she stopped by for a coffee.

“I have to ask how you do that?” the stranger waved her large mug at Alison’s black coffee. “I mean, I get that it’s essential caffeine intake – unless you’re one of those total weirdos who drinks decaf. I mean what the fuck is the point of that?”

The f-bomb sounded so delightfully dirty in her immaculate mouth. It gave Alison an unexpected spasm, which she barely controlled. She did go the decaf route more often than not, but she found herself nodding in agreement.

“You know what they do with the caffeine they take out of the coffee?”

Alison shook her head.

“They put it in the Tylenol you take to deal with the headache you got because you didn’t have enough caffeine. Anyway, what the fuck is with drinking it black like that? As I say, yeah, you get the hit, but it tastes so... unsatisfying. Now this,” she raised her sixteen ounces of coffee and chocolate, “this hits all the right spots, and who cares if you need to pound the streets for a couple of hours to burn it off? Sooo worth it.

“I’ll tell you another secret. Sometimes I don’t bother with the run afterwards.”

“And you get away with it?”

“What do you think?” She straightened, her twin breasts swelling out her blouse like a double figurehead, her sleek curves the envy of any tea clipper that ever graced the seas.

“You must have made a deal with the devil.” Alison smiled to show she meant no harm in her comment.

“Just mind over matter, girlfriend, just mind over matter. You don’t mind if I call you girlfriend?”

“No, I kind of like it.”

“Well, thanks for letting me sit with you. This was so much better than sitting all alone like some Betty no mates, don’t you think?”

“Well, yeah. I mean I usually use this time to catch up on what my friends have been posting on social media, you know?”

“Well, if ever I see you sitting here by your lonesome, don’t be surprised if I come on over with a couple of cream cakes for us to sink our teeth into.”

“I’d like that. It’s been nice meeting you, er...”

“Carolina, like the States, only most people call me Carrie.”

“Like in that scary movie?”

“Yeah, only my superpower doesn’t involve so much blood... usually.”

Alison laughed good naturedly. “It’d be good to see you around any time, Carrie. My name’s Alison, Ali to my friends.”

“Yeah,” Carrie said, but with no inflection. It sounded odd, like she didn’t care, or maybe she already knew?

“Do I know you?” Alison ventured. “I mean, there’s something familiar about you I think.” There wasn’t, but Alison was really good at forgetting the faces of people she didn’t care about.

“Nah. I guess I just have one of those faces.” Yeah right, the sort that stood out like a movie star.

“Well, don’t be a stranger.”

“Place this small, I’m not sure it’s possible. Anyway, bye Ali, I’ve got some calories to burn off.”

Not as many as Alison might have suspected. The large mocha Carrie took back to the bar still had more than half its contents, and she’d only eaten one of the éclairs.

-~oOo~

“So, you must be Harvey.”

It was the sort of voice that would give the pope and erection, eighty-seven years old or not. Harvey turned around, ready to be disappointed. It wouldn’t have been the first time a sexy voice had promised a ten and delivered a two. This time he felt his smile widening as he acknowledged being in the presence of a genuine twelve.

Harvey’s scale went logarithmic after ten and often involved decimals. An eleven was closer to a one hundred and a twelve a thousand. His maths wasn’t so good though, so it was just as well nobody had to understand his method but him. He had it in mind that no woman could top a twelve, and this was the first time he’d awarded the top score to anyone.

“Now who’ve you been talking to little darling?”

Carrie’s eyes glanced up at the sign that ran the length of the showroom. It read ‘Harvey’s new and used cars. You’ll never get a better deal.’ It gave her a chance to settle her grin into a teasing, suggestive smile of mild amusement before she looked back at Harvey. He’d changed since high school. Even in his freshman year he showed quarterback strength and size, and of course he had a full length of wavy blond hair that sent the girls wild. Now his muscles had turned doughy, and a large proportion of his bulk had gravitated towards his equator. As for the hair, the tooth fairies lesser know cousin, the hair pixie, had been busy at work and taken his hairline right over the top and down the back of his head. Worse than that, he was one of those vain individuals who refused to give into the inevitable and had done his level best to cover the absence with a comb over. Every now and again, the wind would take it out and Harvey would be ready with his comb to put it back in place again.

It might have been repellent, but more than anything it was amusing. Almost retribution enough that Harvey had be reduced to this sad carbon copy of his old man and Alison was stuck living with someone who’d gone so much to seed. Special dose of irony in that Harvey seemed to insist on her keeping her lithe body from previous decades while not seeming able to offer her the same courtesy.

“Oh, right.” Harvey cottoned on to where this new girl’s eyes had been looking. “Well, if you’ve come looking for a deal, you’ve come to the right place. What’re you looking for? A nice little compact? I have a real sweet VW Rabbit over here I think you might be interested in.”

“Actually, I was hoping for something with a little more grunt. I noticed the sixty-five Corvette you have over there.”

“Ah, well, see, that’s my own car and she’s not for sale.”

“Everything’s for sale if the price is right.”

“Yeah, well I don’t mean no disrespect, but the right price for the Corvette’s likely to be quite a lot more than you have in the bank.”

“Oh, I wasn’t thinking about money, at least not much of it. I was wondering if there was something else I might be able to offer you that might be of interest.” Carrie sauntered forward, her short skirt leaving very little to the imagination – no imagination whatsoever when the wind lifted it – and her blouse possessing a deep enough cleavage to show off a significant amount of milk white breast. Rosy, red lips shone glossy and plump in the sunlight. It was a body that said fuck me in large capital letters, and Harvey definitely had a squirm on trying to rearrange his bulge.

Somehow he held out though. He held up his left hand and wiggled the gold band on his fourth finger.

“Sorry darling, I’m already spoken for.”

Carrie was impressed. Either he’d turned into one of the good guys since leaving school, or Alison had him on a tighter leash than she’d anticipated. The ongoing efforts to maintain her figure spoke of the latter, which was unfortunate. For Alison in any case.

“Oh come on Harvey. It only counts as an affair if you stick your dick in my pussy. I got at least two different orifices I know you’d like to play with. I have a blow job for you that’ll leave you wondering what you’ve been doing with your little soldier all these years. You can tell me afterwards what it’s worth to you as a down payment.”

Harvey had never been one to let a bargain slip by, even – or maybe especially – if it meant taking advantage of a pretty girl. After all, she was right. A bit of fellatio never counted as being unfaithful, did it?

He followed her round to the rear of the lot, to an area which was overgrown and scattered with bits of rusting cars. Not the most romantic of venues, but it did have the benefit of being out of public sight.

She dropped to her knees and undid his belt, dropping his trousers and boxers to reveal the source of his discomfort. She played with him, kissing the tip of his rock-hard penis, cupping his balls in her delicate fingers, licking him in the most sensuous way until he was straining for relief. Then she took him whole inside her mouth. It shouldn’t have been possible given how small and delicate she was, but she managed it, then she massaged him with her mouth, playing with him by running her teeth down the length of his shaft. He desperately needed to climax, but somehow he came to the limit of letting go time after time, but was never able to take that last step. He grabbed her hair and rammed her into his groin. Her playful tongue found its way around his ball sack, teasing him, dragging it out until he finally found release. It felt like he was letting go of a gallons of the stuff. The climax went on for minutes and left him rubber legged and collapsed against the back wall of his showroom with her head laying in his lap.

She finished off licking him clean then sat up and offered him an inquiring smirk.

“That was incredible,” he managed to breathe out at last.

“Worth a grand?” she asked cheekily.

“Worth two,” he gasped before he could stop himself.

“Great, shall we go inside and start the paperwork?”

“What?”

“On the Corvette. I mean, I know you said you didn’t want to sell it, but I said...”

“A hundred grand.”

It was way more than the car was worth. Carrie had done her research and seen several of equivalent quality in the sixty to seventy thousand range, but this wasn’t about any old car. This was about Harvey’s car.

“Okay, so that’s the sale price. We start an instalment plan and mark down two thousand dollars for services rendered, then from here on in, you decide when you want to see me again, and what you want to do to me and afterwards you’re going to tell me how much you thought it was worth, and we’ll mark that down too.”

“Yeah, well don’t get your hopes too high sweetheart. Like I said, I’m happily married. I can get service like that any time I want.”

“So no issue with setting up the paperwork, or would you rather pay me in cash?”

“You never said anything about charging me, lady.”

“No, I suppose I didn’t, but you’re going to want more of me.” She moved in close to Harvey’s ear, tracing delicate patterns on his cheek with an immaculate nail. “Next time you stick your pecker in your little lady’s mouth,” she whispered, “you’re gonna think about me and it won’t be anywhere near as good. You’re gonna want more of me in all sorts of ways, and it’s gonna grow inside you like an itch you can’t reach. But before I reach in and scratch it for you...” she reached into his boxers and tickled his flaccid member with her nails. “Before that happens, you’re going to have to settle up for today.” Her lips barely brushed against his ear on the last words.

She stood gracefully to her feet. He wanted to grab for her, but his bones were like jelly. God, he had never known anything like that. He already knew he was going to want more... Need more.

“How will I find you?” he called after her.

She paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, I’ll be around sugar. You’ll find me soon enough.”

-~oOo~

Jack Sanders wasn’t known for being happy. He had a decent job with a decent income but took no pleasure from either. Something had happened in his childhood that had knocked all the happiness out of him and now all he was left with was the satisfaction of doing the same to other people, especially those who had contributed to his childhood misery. Fortunately for him, his job afforded him a good number of opportunities to do just that.

Carrie waited her turn. There were about half a dozen managers in the bank interviewing hopefuls on a turn-by-turn basis. When Carrie’s turn came, she waved on the next person and the next until Jack was free. Then she climbed to her feet, smoothed down the front of her short skirt and sauntered over to his office.

“Hi Jack,” she said, leaning in through his door.

He peered back myopically for a moment. “Do I know you?” He was pretty sure he didn’t, but it seemed polite to ask.

“Well, we did go to the same school for a while, but I left quite early on, so it wouldn’t surprise me if you didn’t remember.”

“I’d definitely remember someone like you, so I’m sure you’re mistaken.”

“Alright, I remember everyone used to call you Primo Jack.”

He winced visibly, and with good reason.

“Yeah, it seemed like a cool nickname until prom night. Who gave it to you? Was it Betty Barnes? She was always a little eager to give the boys what they wanted.”

“Please be a little more respectful when you talk about my wife.” He stood up from his desk and closed the door. His visitor didn’t look like she was about to leave, so he invited her to take a seat. At least with the door closed, there would be less chance of past secrets escaping into the public domain.

“You married Betty, after she did that to you?”

“Yes, well it wasn’t really her who did ‘that to me’,” he had one of those voices that could speak parentheses. “She actually felt pretty rotten about it afterwards and, well, none of the other girls would give me time of day.”

“No, I imagine what you did to your date would have been quite a turn off.”

“Except she wasn’t a girl.”

“Yeah, but was that really the worst thing about that evening? That you were caught dating a boy in a dress? Not that you jizzed all over her face and hair and clothes?”

“She wasn’t a girl. And the worst thing was being laughed at. I didn’t hang around to find out what they were laughing about.”

“No. You just left her to their mercy.”

“He deserved it,” emphasis on the he. “Fucking faggot.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe she,” emphasis on the she, “was as much a victim as you? Perhaps more so?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Which do you think they found the greatest source of amusement? That you should finally discover your nickname was about your problem with premature ejaculation? Or that they could out some sad, confused kid as trans and cover them in seminal fluid?”

“Well, both I guess. But I suppose I never considered it from his perspective.”

“Don’t you recall the hysterical screaming? Didn’t that give you some clue?”

“I... was too caught up in my own misery. I guess I wasn’t really listening. We all tend to be a little self-absorbed at that age.”

“Time to settle accounts.”

“What do you mean?”

“You left her screaming while the whole freshman year stood around laughing, lifted her skirts, pulled down her knickers, heaping humiliation upon humiliation on her. When the teachers finally intervened, they had to call for the nurse to sedated her.”

“What could I have done?”

“How about stayed with her? You know how much worse that experience was because she had to face it on her own?

“Instead you take it out on people who were just being, to use your term, self-absorbed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Carrie arched an eyebrow. Here was someone she’d have loved to play at poker. Actually, that wasn’t such a bad idea.

“What’s the betting you do?”

“I don’t bet.” No, maybe as well.

“What do you think would happen if I gave your boss a list of everyone in our freshman year and suggested he check it against people who applied to you for a loan, or the list of foreclosures you approved?”

There was her full house against his two pair. A brief look of panic, then defeat.

“What do you want?”

“A checking account without having to go through all those annoying proofs of identity with a balance of say, twenty thousand dollars.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah, but I’d guess you made more on all the dealings you’ve had with our former classmates.”

“All of it legal.”

“Though maybe not ethical. I mean, you’re right, you won’t go to jail over it, but I suspect the branch manager won’t be too happy to find out how you made all that money for the bank at the cost of all that goodwill.”

“How do you know all this?”

She pulled a stack of microfiche printouts from her handbag and dropped them on the desk.

“Not proof in itself, but disturbingly coincidental that eighty five percent of our former classmates have lost out to this bank. I don’t have access to any records, but what are the chances that someone who does might share my curiosity and dig a little deeper.”

“And if I set up this account for you, what happens to those?” He nodded at the cuttings.

“That’s up to you. I wouldn’t have any more use for them, so I guess I’d leave them here for you to do with as you like.

“Mind you, since, as you say, you did nothing illegal, you’re not going to see any harm in showing them to your boss.” She smiled sweetly.

The smile he returned was more of a grimace. He turned to his computer.

“What name?”

“Carrie White.”

-~oOo~

It had been a week. Alison was sitting at her usual table in the café window. Her attention was focused on her phone screen, which left her subconscious mind to sip at her large cappuccino. Not a mocha, but just as calorie rich. She had a half-eaten éclair on the plate by her elbow and the crumbs from one more. She was already looking rounder about the face and shoulders with signs that her bra was a little too tight for her. Carrie smiled, wondering what her hips and bum looked like now. She was about to move on when Alison looked up, smiled and waved her in.

It gave an excuse for a mocha and a couple of éclairs, one of which she would add to the unsuspecting woman’s calorie intake. I mean they were just so addictive!

She settled opposite Alison and slid one of the plates across to her.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Alison protested. “I’ve already had two.”

“Then one more’s hardly going to make any difference. Besides, a little bit of exercise and you’re all good, if you can even be bothered. I mean you look fabulous.”

“Do you think so? I thought I’d put on a few pounds.”

“Are you kidding? You look just like when I first met you last week.”

“Really. Only my clothes feel a little tight.”

“Cheap Chinese rubbish, shrinks in even a cool wash, and before you say anything, even your expensive clothes are made on a budget in China.”

“Is that right? I mean that’s a scandal!”

“Tell me about it. Anyway, what were you doing?”

“It’s like I was telling you; I usually use this time to catch up on what my friends are doing on Facebook and stuff.”

“Anything interesting? I mean, I gave up on Facebook because nothing anyone ever posts on it is worth reading, and I end up wasting so much time reading other people’s banal crap.”

“Ah, but you have to learn to read between the lines. Like Betty Sanders is pregnant again. That’ll be her seventh.”

“Really? How do you know?”

Alison pulled up Betty’s Facebook page and the posts for unusual cravings. Carrie bit the inside of her cheek. She’d suggested Jack go home and show her how much he loved her. After all, once the bank started investigating his dealings, he’d need a bit of good will from her.

“Scandalous,” Carrie said. “But why read about someone else’s scandals when you can make your own?”

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t eating your éclair right. You ready to turn a few heads?”

“I don’t know, I...”

“Just follow what I do.” Carrie picked up her cake and held it delicately between her teeth, waiting until Alison did the same, then she deep throated it, allowing her soft, plump lips to caress it as she slid the entire length into and out of her mouth. After a moment, Alison followed suit, matching Carrie’s quiet moans.

Cream leaked out of the pastry as she brought her lips in tighter. She paused to lick it up before returning to the gentle, rhythmic motion. Alison was following along, her eyes closed in private ecstasy.

“Now for the finally,” Carrie said once enough heads were turned their way. Alison opened her eyes to watch as Carrie slid almost the entire cream cake into her mouth and bit down hard.

Alison followed suit, adding her own moans of pleasure as she did so.

Their audience gasped, the men wincing more than the women. Carrie looked around smiling with satisfaction at the stunned looks surrounding them.

“Now that’s how to eat an éclair,” she said conspiratorially. Then in a more normal voice, “And I should be going. You should spend more time living your own life rather than looking for titbits to enjoy from someone else’s.” She leaned across to hug her friend briefly before walking out of the coffee shop. Once again, her mocha was less than half drunk. Alison’s eyes followed her out of the café, ignoring the looks she was getting. Her cappuccino was empty so she picked up the mocha and sipped at it thoughtfully.

-~oOo~

“Hey Harvey.” Carrie lay across the hood of the red Corvette. “How’s the itch?”

It was pretty bad, Harvey couldn’t deny, except he wasn’t going to let on.

“Slow day,” Carrie continued looking around at the empty showroom.

It was, but then slow days could turn busy really quickly, and if he was right about what she had in mind, he couldn’t risk it. He went over to his desk and sat down.

She sauntered over. She had one of the sexiest walks of anyone he knew. Alison had walked like that once, but not lately. Not for a lot of years. She still looked good after all these years. At least she had, only lately...

“Oh,” she breathed in his ear, “there it is. I wondered where I’d left it.”

The it in question was painfully hard and straining against his fly. She slid down between his chair and desk, disappearing from view, at least to anyone who might come into the showroom.

“Just to be clear, I haven’t asked you to do anything, so you don’t get to charge for this one.”

“Oh, okay. So just to be clear, you don’t want me to scratch this itch.”

She unzipped him and reached in to wrap her cool slender fingers around the part of his anatomy that had been straining for release for some days now. He’d begged Alison to help him out, and she’d tried. She’d sucked on him until she’d grown weary, especially of the way he grabbed her hair and thrust himself into her. She’d encouraged him to try more conventional sex, and when that hadn’t worked, she’d even allowed him access to her back passage. None of it had worked.

“You know I’m the only one who can help you here, don’t you Harvey? But if you don’t want me to...”

She let go of him and somehow just a few more ounces of blood filled him, causing him just that much more discomfort.

“All right, damn it! Suck me off.”

“And you’ll amend the agreement?”

“Yeah, two thousand more.” It might just about be worth it. If she could do the same as last time and continue it a total of fifty times, it might just be worth giving over the damned car.

“Well, why don’t we wait till after, and you can tell me how much you thought it was worth.”

The whole straining mass disappeared inside her mouth and what had been causing him no end of frustration for days suddenly melted into the most ecstatic pleasure.

“Oh God!” he shuddered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mrs Hemsworth! My apologies. Will you ju-hu-hu-ust give me a few minutes to sooooort a thing or two OW!”

“This might take more than a few minutes,” Corrie said quietly.

“I could come back later if you’re too busy.” Mrs Hemsworth looked inclined to take her business elsewhere if she didn’t have his immediate attention.

“Nnnnnot at all, Mrs Heh-huh-emsworth. I just need to-o-o-o... This sprea-headsheet. If I don’t... Hawww. If I leave it nOW I’ll never get it so-hor-horted.”

“Are you quite alright Mr Lewis?”

“Nnnnnnnnever better Mrs Hemsworth. Was therererere something in paaaarticular you were interested in?”

“Well, of course, but I wish you’d stop making those dreadful noises. I’m finding them quite off-putting.”

“I’m sooooorrrr... I’ m sohohorry. Please, just let me finish uuuUP here and I’ll be with you. Was it the Ca-a-a-adillac you were interested in?”

“No, of course not. Why would I want a gas guzzler like that?”

Guzzle. Guzzle. Get on and fucking guzzle you bitch. He reached a hand under the desk, grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her onto him. God, what she was doing down there could hardly be legal...

“I’m sooorry, what?”

“I said, haven’t you got something smaller and more economical, just for running around town?”

“Yes, of cou-hourse. I have a lovely little Rabbit,” rabbit, rabbit, rabbit. Hop bunny hop. God get this over with! “I’m sorry, Mrs Hemsworth, I just need tooooo... oh God!” His eyes crossed and he let out a juddering sigh as he finally released a week’s worth of tension.

“Well, I’m sure I never found office work quite so engaging. I’m not at all sure I want to stand around here and listen to anymore.”

“No, it’s alright, Mrs H. I have this sorted now. Why don’t I just grab the keys, and I can show...”

“I don’t think so Mr Lewis. You obviously have more important things on your mind.”

Carrie was done. He was deflating into blessed relief, and she was quietly tucking him away and zipping him up. Harvey climbed to his feet and tried to run after his only customer of the day, only his legs were so much jelly.

“Mrs Hemsworth, please wait. I’m sure I can do you a better deal than you’ll find anywhere else hereabouts.”

“Not with that Rabbit you won’t.” Carrie had emerged from under the desk and was looking at Harvey’s computer screen. “Wow! Two hundred trillion dollars! I never would have thought I was that good!”

“What! Shit, no! I must have leant on the keyboard. Fuck woman, you just lost me a sale.”

“More like I was preserving your reputation, Harvey. That Rabbit’s a lemon and you know it. If you offered it me for five bucks you’d still be ripping me off. You should put it on the next auction and take what you can get for it.

“And what the hell’s that? You’re telling me that wasn’t better than last time?”

“I could have done without dealing with all that and a customer as well.”

“Serves you right for mixing business with pleasure, or would you rather I stopped and left you trying to sell a car to a nice old lady with a tent pole down your trousers?”

Harvey ground his teeth but kept quiet.

“Next time you should shut up shop and book us into a nice hotel.”

“What makes you think there’ll be a next time?”

“Well, mainly because there was a this time. Maybe you’d like to wait a couple of weeks this time round? Up to you, but we can wait till then before you put an amount in here.” She pointed at the spreadsheet where the most recent miss-type had been removed. “You never know, I may be inclined to hold out for a larger amount before sorting you out.”

Harvey ground his teeth but typed in a number.

“Four thousand dollars. That’s better. You’ll probably find the itch comes on a bit quicker this time, so why don’t I give you a number where you can contact me?” She typed a string of digits into an empty cell in the spreadsheet. “I’ll see you soon Harvey.”

-~oOo~

Less than a week passed. The front page of the local paper showed the nearest thing to a scandal this little Podunk town had seen.

Yet, Carrie reminded herself with a smile. The nearest thing yet.

The smile was for the front-page photograph of a very unhappy looking Jack Sanders trying to avoid the cameras. The rather unoriginal headline read, ‘Banker gets his comeuppance,’ with the article starting off with a description of how the local bank had become aware of one of its middle managers acting in a maliciously unprofessional manner towards his former school acquaintances, how he had been sacked and how those who had lost out to him would be contacted with a goodwill offering. The reporter – one of those affected when his house had been repossessed – expressed doubts that the compensation would come close to redressing the balance, but he was glad to see an unpleasant man on the receiving end for once.

It would be tough on Jack and Betty, especially with a seventh on the way, but Jack would have a fair amount of cash squirreled away from his shady dealings – enough to bide them over until he managed to find himself another job. It was unlikely he’d work in banking again, but there were businesses out there who valued his sort of ruthlessness. He probably wouldn’t have much in the way of savings by the time he was earning again, but he didn’t really deserve to keep what he had.

Her phone played You ain’t nothing but a hound dog. She dug it out of her bag and lifted it to her ear.

“Hello Harvey. How’s the itch?”

“You’re a fucking bitch. I don’t know how you’re doing this, but...”

“Now, now, Harvey. Is that any way to speak to the only girl who can ease your discomfort.”

“Get your ass over here right now.”

“I don’t think I will. A girl likes to be appreciated you know?”

“What the fuck do you want?” Said through clenched teeth.

“Oh Harvey, I thought it was you who wanted the fuck.”

“Yeah, so what do you want?”

“Well, let’s see. We started off in the junkyard out back of your business, then we did it from under your desk. Let’s see if we can keep improving things, shall we? Why don’t we see if there’s a hotel room we could use this time. Preferably one without roaches.”

“There’s a place round the corner from my business. How soon can you be there?”

“If we’re thinking of the same place, it’s a bit of a flea pit, isn’t it?”

“They rent rooms by the hour.”

“Well okay, but what we get up to and how much you pay for it will depend largely on the place we do it from now on.”

“When.”

“About an hour.”

“Fuck that. You can be anywhere you like in this shitty town in ten minutes.”

“Not if you don’t have a car, and you haven’t gotten round to selling me yours yet.”

“You can take a cab.”

“I could. Shall we add that to the bill?”

“Sure, why the fuck not.”

“I’ll see you in ten.”

She dropped the phone back in her back and sipped at her coffee. She didn’t need the cab since she’d anticipated his call and was sitting across the road from his little emporium. It had pleased her when a small car transporter with an automobile auction house logo on the side had pulled up earlier and winched the Rabbit onto its back, but it wasn’t reason enough to give the man a break. She decided to wait the full ten minutes then, depending on whether he headed for the hotel or stayed in his office, she’d go to the place where he wasn’t and wait for him to call.

Twenty minutes later, hound dog rang out again.

“Harvey?”

“Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m at your showroom. Where are you?”

“At the fucking hotel, bitch. Get the fuck over here.”

“Well, you could have said. And after I tipped that nice cabbie twenty dollars to get her super quick.”

“Fucking... fuck!”

“Keep your hair on.” That was a deliberate dig. “I’ve something special in mind for today.”

She made her way across to the seedy hotel and followed a very agitated Harvey up to a moderately unpleasant hotel room.

“The guy said this was their best room. He charged me an extra fifty bucks for it.”

Carrie looked around her, wrinkling her nose at the smell of mildew and wiping what must have been a month’s accumulation of dust off the windowsill with her finger.

“Do you think what he charged you included a charge for discretion? Because, you know, pretty ballsy doing this so local. Do you reckon he knows you and that you’re married?”

“Fuck! I’m not thinking straight. You gotta fix this.”

She eyed the bed. She’d probably have to burn her clothes after this, but what the hell.

She lifted her skirt to reveal stockings and a garter belt as well as a thong. Butt floss she’d heard it called. She wiggled it over her hips and let it drop to her ankles before stepping out of it and crawling onto the bed, pointing her naked butt at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you might like to graduate from blow jobs, but if all you want is for me to suck you off...”

She made to crawl off the bed.

“No. Fuck. I mean how much is this going to cost me?”

“It’s always been up to you before; except I’m going to have to add a few expenses this time. I mean I did specify a room without cockroaches, didn’t I?”

“What where?”

‘Standing behind me eyeing my ass for one,’ Carrie thought. “Does it matter? I thought this place charged by the hour. Do you want some of this or don’t you?”

He did. It took some fumbling to drop his pants then a fair amount of pushing to get his swollen self into her.

“That might have been easier if you’d used this,” she said holding up a tube of lube.

“Shut up you fucking cunt and let me in.”

“Access to cunt denied,” she said, “unless you plan to be unfaithful, but as for where you are now...”

She relaxed her muscles all the way and felt him slide in, then she tightened up on him, effectively trapping him.

“Oh fuck a shitting crap-fuck,” he moaned, writhing to move.

She let him, relaxing and squeezing back tight over and over again. She didn’t allow him much freedom. Just enough to hint at giving him control, but never quite enough to let him have it.

She played with him, keeping him on the edge of release for a full three quarters of an hour, then just as he was at the very brink of coming, she tightened her hold on him, immobilising him.

“Fuck me!” he groaned.

“No. That’s what you’re doing to me. How would you rate it so far?”

“Fuck!”

“So what? Are we saying a thousand bucks per fuck?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He squirmed but couldn’t move.

“Getting there. You know I can do this all day?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“And another three thousand. That sounds about right.”

She let him go and he rammed himself in one last time, reaching such an utter culmination, he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh fuck!” he yelled letting go of days of pent-up frustration.

“And one more. That’s really generous, thank you. I make that ten grand, plus what, an extra five hundred? Which you can pay me in cash.”

“What the f...?”

“Oh, are we going to eleven grand?”

“No we f... damn well aren’t. What the f... crap to you mean?”

“Well, you did seem to understand a thousand bucks per fuck, and you went on to say fuck ten times.”

“Shit!”

“Then there was the taxi fare, the inconvenience factor for interrupting my afternoon to come here at such short notice, the gross out factor of doing it in a place like this. I mean bugger me – which technically you just did – this place is seriously low rent. Lastly, I don’t think I’m ever going to feel clean in these clothes ever again, so you owe me for new ones.”

“That can hardly amount to much.”

“You’re saying my clothes are cheap and trashy?”

“There’s not much to them, is there?”

“No, but you must have heard the saying, ‘less is more.’ This outfit was deceptively expensive.”

He climbed off her and she rolled over onto her back, feeling semen dripping out of her arse. Her skirt was short enough that most of it dribbled onto the bedclothes.

“Fuck!” Harvey risked the extra grand. “Can you not leak everywhere. Your fucking muscles have to be strong enough to keep that load in.”

She obliged, clenching her butt cheeks until she’d made it into the bathroom.

“Not even a bidet,” she called through. “This place really is the pits.”

Harvey finished sponging the worst of the mess off the bedclothes and figured it probably wasn’t the only semen stain present. Maybe five hundred wasn’t that much after all. He pulled the bills out of his wallet and dropped them on the bed.

“And with the ten large I make that sixteen thousand down on the Corvette, yeah?” She picked up the money and dropped it into her bag before stepping back into her panties.

“Whatever.” There was no way they were going to get anywhere near a hundred thousand, so who the fuck cared?

“Should I come across to your showroom to make sure you enter the amount correctly?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“And email me confirmation?”

“Sure, whatever.”

She gave him a card with her name and email address printed on it. “So you know where to send it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You should fuck off now.”

Typical man. He had what he wanted, so she was surplus to requirements. At least for a few more days.

“You may want to pay the guy on the desk another couple hundred to forget you were here.”

“Fuck me.” This was turning into one fucking expensive lunchtime.

“If you’re into that I could maybe get hold of a strap-on for next time.”

“Just fuck off, will you?”

She smirked and walked out of the room.

-~oOo~

The better-quality shops were at the other end of town near to her hotel. She walked it rather than risk soiling some hapless cabbie’s rear seat, which meant she ended up walking past the coffee shop where she’d met Alison. As chance would have it, she was sitting in the window with a large cappuccino and a couple of cream cakes. She was beginning to look like a baby owl the way she was filling out.

She looked up as Carrie walked past and waved.

Not quite what she’d been planning. She desperately wanted a shower and a change of clothes, but maybe this would work to her advantage. She bought a coffee and the last éclair and headed for the window.

“Ready to shock a few more people?” Carrie asked, picking up her cream cake.

“You are a bad influence on me,” Alison said with an evil grin, raising her own, or at least one of them.

“The absolute worst,” Carrie agreed, and they set about pleasuring their pastries, bringing about the same reaction from those sitting around them.

“You’ve been getting some,” Alison said when they were done. “I can smell him on you. God, I wish I were so lucky, but Harvey can’t seem to finish these days.”

“I’m sorry. What seems to be the problem?”

“He keeps calling me a fat cunt and says I’m letting myself go.”

“He’s one to fucking talk.”

“How do you know my husband?” Alison was suddenly suspicious.

“Well, you said Harvey, right?” Carrie let a little guilt show. “I mean you can only mean the guy who runs that car dealership on the other side of town. I went in there looking for a car, but the only thing he has that I like is the Corvette “

“Oh, fuck me, girl. You’ll be lucky if he lets you breathe on that thing. I think he loves it more than me.”

“Yeah, I got the same impression. That is the same Harvey then? Only I can imagine he was quite the stud once upon a time, but...”

She paused. Alison had started crying, and they were fat tears to match her fattening face. Carrie felt a pang of guilt at what she was doing to this girl, but it didn’t last long. She thought over the last ten years of her own life and felt herself hardening within.

Time for a bit of amateur dramatics.

“What is it, sweetie?” She reached across to rub the young woman’s arm, just as a waitress came over to their table. “Could you leave us be?” Carrie asked. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It’s the manager though. He’s told me to talk to you right now. He says we’ve had complaints and you’re not, er, you know, do what you do with the, er, cakes. I mean personally I think it’s great what you do, and I’d join you if I was to dare eat one of them éclairs, but he says if you do it again then you’ll be banned. I’m sorry, but that’s what he told me to say.”

“And now you’ve said it, so would you let us be?”

“He said I was to wait for a reply.”

“We won’t do it again,” Alison said, then turning to Carrie. “This is part of my daily routine. I can’t lose it.”

“You’re right.” Then to the waitress, “It won’t happen again, but don’t expect an apology.”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll go tell him, but not that last bit, if you don’t mind.”

She disappeared.

“Ali?”

She’d always hated the shortening of her name at school. She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“It’s... I think Harvey’s having an affair.”

Well, there was a result.

“What makes you say so?”

“It’s... I don’t know. It hasn’t been more than once or twice, but it’s like I’m sure I’ve smelt someone on him.”

‘Good job all you can smell of me is him, and you’re not used to what he smells like,’ Carrie thought. What she said was, “I’m sorry, that sounds awful. Why would he even think of being unfaithful?”

“He’s been saying I’m getting fat.”

“That’s not true.” ‘That’s so true.’

“No, he’s right. My clothes are tighter on me. I’ve even had to buy new clothes, if you can believe it.”

“Never.” ‘My God, of course you’re getting fat.’

“No, he’s right though. I’ve been indulging too much and I’m... not what he wants.”

“That’s not the point though. I mean is he what you want?”

“Well, no, but...”

“But nothing. You made commitments to one another when you married – you know, for better or for worse? You’ve stuck by him despite the fucking comb over.”

“Fuck me, isn’t that the worst.”

“Tell me about it. You know, what you should do is wait till he’d asleep, maybe after he’s had a skin full, and shave that fucker off.”

“Oh wow! Do you think I should?”

“More than should. I think you owe it to everyone who lives around here to do just that.”

“But what if he is seeing another woman?”

“Do you want to know for sure?”

“I think so.”

“Better you decide. A lot of women are too weak and prefer to live in denial. Strong women, like I’m sure you are, prefer to know the truth and deal with it.”

“Okay. What should I do then?”

“You know you can get those baby monitors that give you a camera view into your baby’s bedroom?”

“We don’t have kids.”

“Fuck kids. Who’s talking about kids? I’m talking about surveillance. You can get some cameras that will send an alert to your phone any time they detect movement. Set one up in your bedroom. If anyone goes in during the day – which should be never when you’re not there – you’ll get a ping and you’ll be able to see whatever’s going on.”

“What if he’s seeing her somewhere else?”

“Trust me. If he’s fooling around, he’ll bring her back to your place eventually.”

“You think so?”

“I can pretty much guarantee it.”

“You are such an amazing friend, you know that? And to think, I nearly told you to fuck off the first time I met you.”

“If I’d been you, I probably would have. I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah, me too. Where can I get one of these camera thingies?”

-~oOo~

Two days later, Elvis sang out of Carrie’s phone.

“Hi Harvey.”

“What the fuck did you do to me?”

‘I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. I can’t stop thinking of you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.”

“No it fucking isn’t. I can’t have sex with my own wife anymore. Not that I fucking want to after what she did to my hair.”

“What did she do?” As if she didn’t know.

“She… cut off my… Stop fucking laughing, you bitch. It isn’t funny.”

“Oh, but it is. At least a little bit.”

“I don’t fucking care! What the fuck are you going to do about this?”

“Your hair? There’s not much I can do. You could wait for it to grow back, but you’ll come to think it’s better the way it is. I’m sure of that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about my hair. Well, not much. What I fucking care about is I can’t screw my own wife now.”

“No-one’s stopping you.”

“Yes they are. You fucking are. I get my cock out to give her one and nothing fucking happens.”

“You can’t get it up? You know that’s what Viagra’s for.”

“Getting it up’s not the problem. Getting it to finish is. With Alison it doesn’t matter where I stick it, all I can think of is you, and since Alison isn’t you, my cock just won’t give me any release.”

“That must be very hard for you.” Who said double entendre had to be subtle.

“Fucking bitch.”

“Yeah, I can do that for you. If you ask nicely. Why don’t you book a room for us at the Ritz?”

“The fucking Ritz! Do you know how much that place costs?”

“I’m guessing less than the two hundred bucks you paid that guy to forget you were there.”

“How much is it going to cost the guy at the Ritz to forget?”

“Why should he care? You’re just renting a room for a day. Once you have it arranged, tell me the room number and I’ll meet you there.”

“Lunchtime then.”

“Sure.”

She had planned to go out. She had clothes to buy, after all, and what she had in mind was very specific and might take some time, but she still had time, so lunchtime more or less wouldn’t make much difference. After all, she could rearrange things a little and book herself in for her mani-pedi this morning. Yes, that sounded like a plan. She felt like a little pampering.

It left her the whole morning to get ready and she made full use of it. Luxurious bubble bath followed by a short excursion down to the hotel’s salon, then time enough to change and stretch out on the bed before her phone dinged.

It was a short text. Just three numbers. Room three one two wasn’t the cheapest one in the hotel, but those were the ones most frequently booked. There was nothing special about it, but it would do.

“On my way,” she texted back and slipped on a bathrobe. It wasn’t unusual for guests to wander the corridors in bathrobes, though perhaps a little more so at lunchtime.

She made her way down the stairs – almost never used when there were lifts available – and along to the correct room. A master key card let her in, and she looked around. The room was smaller than hers, but that was to be expected. It was nicely appointed and clean.

She retrieved one of the larger towels from the bathroom and spread it over the bed covers, after all, this was a classy place, then she slipped off her robe and lay down on her front, propped on her elbows, and waited.

“What the fuck! How did you get in?”

She glanced coquettishly over her shoulder and smiled. Then smiled wider at the sight of his naked scalp. “I have my ways,” she said. No reason to share any of her secrets. “You like?” she asked indicating the short, sheer negligee that was currently doing next to nothing to hide her perfect round ass.

“Fuck yeah.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Or would you like me to take charge?”

There was a moment’s struggle as he rid himself of his pants and shoes, then he was on top of her. She’d taken the time to lube herself before he arrived, so he slid in easily. Her efforts to clench her buttocks didn’t trap him as she had before but rather squeezed down on him as he thrust into her over and over.

She squeezed and relaxed in a rhythm to match his own, bringing him rapidly to a peak, then she slowed him down, resisting his urgency and keeping him at the verge of release for a few more minutes before finally allowing him to climax.

“Oh God,” he breathed as he rolled off her. “Best yet. Which I guess is going to cost me.”

“Mm, five fucks for that one,” she said.

“How come. That’s only half what you cost me last time.”

“Nicer surroundings,” she said. “I did say where you choose to take me would have an effect on price. Besides, we’re not done yet. Roll onto your front.”

“What? Why?”

“So I can do this,” she said reaching for his arsehole with a finger full of lube.

“What the fuck? That’s fucking cold.”

“Yes, it is,” she breathed in his ear, “and you know what’s coming next. You know it’s so wrong and you hate that it’s coming, but you’re still going to lie there and take it, and you’re going to love it so much more than anything we’ve done before.” She climbed onto his back and settled something long and hard between his cheeks.

“Oh God, no!” he breathed.

“Oh yes.” She thrust into him. “That felt so good, didn’t it? You want more.” She slipped back almost all the way out before plunging back in and pausing. “Go on, beg me for more.”

“More please. I have to have more.”

“There’s my little fuck toy. You feel so ashamed and dirty letting me do this, but you can’t say no to more, and here it comes.”

She began to move backwards and forwards in a rhythmic motion, the weight of her breast resting on his back. It felt so wrong, but so wonderful at the same time. He squirmed and pushed back with his ass to meet her thrusting. God, he needed this, but he hated it at the same time.

“You can feel it, can’t you? That amazing feeling building inside you? It’s like no climax you ever had before and it’s building and building. You have to reach that climax, and you’re so close... But I’m done.”

“What! No! You can’t leave me like this?”

“Whyever not my little man-bitch? I mean can you honestly say you’ve never done the same?”

“No! God, I can’t stand it. Please! You have to finish me off.”

“I don’t know. I mean how much is it worth?”

“I’ll give you ten, no, another twenty thousand on the agreement.”

“I was thinking more like fifty.”

“Fifty! You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Well, you could always ask Alison to finish you off.” She handed across a belt with a large, stiff dildo attached to it. Assuming she can, of course, which, given her track record over the last few weeks, I kind of doubt.”

“You can’t leave me like this.”

“Evidence to the contrary. Look, this is me standing up and putting on my bathrobe and walking to the door.”

“Fifty’s too much.”

“I’m sure it is now but call me when it isn’t. Oh, and don’t forget to add the five for when you stuck your dick up my ass as well as what you think that last bit might be worth.”

“You think I’m going to pay you a dime for leaving me like this?”

“Well no. We’ve already discussed what finishing you off is worth, but don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy the journey to where you are now.”

“Oh fuck!”

“I think it’s worth a little more than one fuck, but you can send me a copy of the agreement and I can decide whether or not I’ll pick up the next time you call.”

“Fucking bitch!”

“As I said, that’s what I do. Oh, would you like me to drop the towel in the laundry? I mean a place like this, we want to keep it clean, don’t we?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“It’s a start, but I think it was worth a bit more than that, especially with the extra piece of equipment.”

“She closed the door on the continued stream of unimaginative profanity and made her way back up to her floor, dropping the soiled towel in a laundry chute on her way.

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.”

Chapter 3 – Follow through

Not as bad as the others, and with maybe an epilogue to follow

The patrol car dropped her back very near to where she had been picked up. She had half an hour before the boutique was due to close which gave her enough time to buy a new SIM for her phone. Alison and Harvey were the only people she’d given her number to and she didn’t want to hear from either of them again, so the only downside of starting from fresh was learning the new number.

She made it to the boutique with five minutes to spare, to find the owner looking rather distraught.

“I’m so sorry madam, I don’t know what happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I followed the measurements I took to the letter, but the final result... Well, it just doesn’t look right.”

She brought out a garment that had none of the graceful curves of the original.

“Why don’t I try it on and see. My, er, assets often mean that clothes don’t look right until I’m wearing them.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“You start your sentences with the word well quite a lot, had you noticed? You should be aware and try to break the habit.”

“Well! I never had... anyone speak... to me so... rudely.” She petered out as awareness took over.

“I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just that people can sometimes become irritated with mannerisms like that, and I’d hate for you to lose business over something so trivial. Is there somewhere I can change?”

The owner showed her to a small cubical where she wiggled out of her skirt and blouse and into the dress.

Which fit like a glove and probably looked like a sack, but she kept her eyes from the mirror.

“You look wonderful,” she told herself, “like an older version of your young self, only so much more beautiful.”

The reflection was enough to make anyone smile, so she did.

“What do you think?” she asked, stepping out of the changing room.

“W... Oh my! I wouldn’t have believed it possible. It fits you perfectly and looks quite lovely on you. Give me a twirl, will you?”

Carrie did.

“Slower.”

Again Carrie complied.

“You know, I saw the perfect pair of shoes to go with that outfit the other day. Hold on a moment.” She pulled out her cell phone and looked up a number.

“Cathy? It’s Adele. I know it’s late, but I’m with a customer. I saw just the right pair of shoes for her dress when I was passing your shop the other day. Can I send her over? Wonderful.” She hung up and turned to Carrie. “You’ll have to be quick. To the left then fourth shop down on the left.”

She found Cathy, and the shoes were perfect. She even had them in her rather surprising size nine. And they came with a matching clutch – the sort she didn’t need lessons in how to use. She ended up spending a little more than she’d intended, but money was easy to come by. She even insisted on paying the full price for the dress despite Adele’s insistence that she only wanted fifty.

After all, people should be rewarded for being better as much as they deserved to be punished for being worse.

She changed back and returned to the hotel. The manager tried to avoid her eyes, but she walked right up to him.

“The renovations in room seven one three are nearly finished. The place will be vacated tomorrow afternoon at around five. I wondered if maybe sending up something from room service might be appropriate. A crab salad and a bottle of prosecco rosé perhaps.”

“Beeuuurk.”

“Now, now. No need to be like that. I mean this can’t be all bad. After all, how was sex with Mrs Manager last night?”

He tilted his head to one side in a begrudgingly accepting matter.

Carrie’s intuition whispered to her. Most women had it, and it had been one of the ways she’d known she was a woman all along. She smiled.

“You, Mr Manager, will only see your wife the way she was when you first fell in love with her. Everyone loses a little something to age, but not your lovely wife, not in your eyes. She’s just as slender and beautiful as you first remember her. Now, what do you say?”

“Perhaps a lobster salad rather than the crab?”

“That sounds wonderful. Oh, and I wanted to place an order online. Would it be possible to have it delivered here?”

“Not an issue. If you’ll just include the room number in the address as well as your name. We’ll use the name to verify the parcel belongs to you.”

-~oOo~

The following morning she allowed herself a brief lie in. The class reunion was in the evening and most of the day was going to be about getting ready for it. She was up and dressed and out off the hotel by nine. She had makeup to buy and new hosiery, and she’d have liked to visit a hairdressers, only styling imaginary hair would have been futile. Still, stopping by for a few style ideas had to be worth doing. Oh yes, floral bath salts, shampoo, conditioner and perfume. Which meant she’d need some funds, so first stop the coffee shop she and Alison had been kicked out of. She bought a flat white and an éclair. After all, she wasn’t trying increase anyone’s calorie intake now. The éclair she had plans for. She sat quietly in Alison’s habitual spot by the window, looking out at the Saturday morning shoppers. She was actually relieved to be drinking something without any sweetness in it, but then she had persuaded herself she actually preferred salads and unsweetened drinks. She’d also told herself she had a higher metabolism although she was waiting to see if that had any effect. The cream cakes couldn’t have helped that.

Perhaps, if it did work, she should try telling her body to produce more oestrogen and less testosterone, then she wouldn’t have to convince herself of what she saw in the mirror every morning.

She’d expected the manager to challenge her after their last encounter, but he didn’t seem to be about. After a short wait, she waved a waitress over and asked if he was available. A few minutes later a familiar grumpy face appeared.

“You! I thought I banned you.”

She picked up the éclair. “This,” she said. “This is your cock.” She started sucking on it sensually, sliding it in and out of her mouth. He tried not to crouch as his dick swelled uncomfortably in his trousers. She kept going for some minutes until he was at the verge of release, then she stopped and bit gently. “You can feel my teeth,” she said around the pastry.

He nodded nervously.

She bit down gently, squeezing the cake with her tongue until a small spurt of cream entered her mouth.

He grunted with a mix of pleasure and pain. A small stain appeared in his pants.

“How much would it be worth not to bite down?”

“Er, fif...”

She bit just a little harder.

“Five hundred dollars,” he changed swiftly.

She’d removed the cake from her mouth. There were teeth marks in the chocolate and cream leaking from the end.

“I’ll leave as soon as someone brings me my change. Don’t make me wait too long though. I might get peckish.”

He rushed off, muttered some brief words to one of the waitresses, then disappeared through a door.

A minute later the same waitress came over with a plate laden with fifty-dollar bills. “The manager said to give these to you. I don’t...”

“That’s between him and me. Thank you. She spread the bills and counted them swiftly before putting them in her bag. The éclair went into the bin, away from someone else’s temptation.

The rest of the morning involved shopping for the things she needed for the reunion. She also picked up a copy of the local newspaper which showed a particularly unflattering picture of Alison’s pudgy face against the orange jumpsuit she was wearing. The lead article read, ‘Local automobile dealer, Harvey Lewis was viciously attacked by his Wife, Alison, who until very recently wrote the gossip column for this newspaper. Details are scarce, but it seems there may have been mitigating circumstances. More information as the story develops.’

Quite the emerging scandal. Carrie smiled and tucked the paper away. Another piece for her scrap book.

The afternoon she spent bathing, washing her hair, willing it dry and into the elegant up-do she’d finally settled on from People magazine. She could do the same with the makeup, she knew, but she wanted the feel of it and the taste and smell, so once she’d slipped into the sexy lingerie she’d bought, she sat in front of the vanity mirror, softened her complexion and painted her eyes and lips, persuading herself she was doing a wonderful job, and so it seemed.

Lastly came the dress. It looked like it belonged on someone considerably stouter, but she knew what it had looked like the previous day, and it fits her just as well and looked just as stunning the moment she stepped into it. It was short, in a younger woman’s style, which meant that she’d occasionally give people a brief glimpse of her stockings and garter belt, but that was part of what a dress like this was about. The shoes and clutch finished things off along with a faux fur wrap. She looked more fabulous than ever.

The rest of her few belongings went in a small valise. She took one last look around the room and stepped out into the hallway.

Down in reception, she handed the master key across and announced that the renovations in her room were complete, although it would need a visit from housekeeping.

“Also, there should be a package for me addressed to the room. Name of Carrie White.”

The name was another thing she intended to lose as soon as she was done here.

She carried her large parcel down to the parking garage and dropped it on the back seat. The valise went in the trunk. Along with her party shoes, she’d invested in a pair of cheap flats. Driving stick was challenging enough without adding heels to the challenge. She’d been away from the car for a couple of days, but her newfound driving skills remained, perhaps in part due to the more sensible shoes, and she drove out with consummate ease, passing the parking garage access key to the attendant as she left.

It was early, but she’d blown most of the five hundred dollars already, so she headed to the seedier part of town. She found what she was looking for. An overdressed individual in a seriously blinged out Cadillac. A number of heavy-set individuals stood up from wherever they’d been leaning or sitting and started sauntering over to her and their boss.

“You guys have an overwhelming need to kiss your own asses,” she said, pointing at them. They immediately started crouching and trying to reach their back ends through their legs with their lips. She turned to the man in charge. “I take it you’re the pimp around here?”

“I don’t like dat word, but yeah, I got some girls work for me.”

“Ever cut any of them?”

“What?”

“You know, because they came up short, or talked back at you?”

“Hey, fuck you lady.”

“You’re thinking about the idea of cutting up a girl. Right now, you feel disgusted that anyone would do such a thing. You think that anyone who’s done that in the past, yourself included, ought to be punished by having a cock and balls carved into their forehead. You’re going to do that to the nearest person you know who’s done it, even if it’s yourself.”

He flipped out a switchblade threateningly... then started to carve into his own face, squealing all the while.

“Now you’re going to carve a drop of cum for every girl’s face you ruined.”

There were five of them.

“Anytime anyone asks you about those scars, you tell them exactly what you did. Any time in the future you feel like carving up a girl’s face, you’re going to take your blade and stab it in your groin. Now, show me your wad.”

“My what?”

“All the cash you have on you. Show it to me.”

He pulled it out. It was an impressive roll.

“Call your girls here one after the other.” He waved and the first came over. “Give her two thousand dollars and tell her to get out of town.” The next girl had a scarred face. She received five thousand and the same instructions. By the time seven girls had come and gone, the money roll was down to about two thirds it’s initial size. She told him to hand it over.

“You’re fucking dead, bitch. Ain’t nowhere you can hide from me.

She turned to the bodyguards. “The urge will go away as soon as you kiss one of these other dudes on the bare ass, right between the cheeks.” To a man, they dropped their trousers and dived between each other’s ass cheeks. When they were done, she pointed at the boss man. “He can’t pay you anymore. He’s given me most of his cash and the rest he gave to his girls and told them to go. He’s kind of responsible for making you do what you just did. You feel like showing him how much you appreciate his efforts on your behalf.”

She climbed into her car and drove off while the bodyguards kicked the living shit out of their former boss.

Now that felt like a great way to make money.

She timed her arrival at the high school to be one of the last arrivals. There weren’t many name tags left, and two at least most likely wouldn’t be making an appearance given Jack’s recent piece in the news, and Betty being pregnant with no means of support from her husband. Until next week if the branch manager took her influence, and why wouldn’t he? No-one yet had been able to deny her. Oh yeah, of course, Harvey and Alison wouldn’t be turning up either.

She picked up her badge.

“Er, I’m sorry,” the plump woman behind the desk said, “those are the men’s badges.”

“I know,” she said. “This one’s mine. I’d like you to look after this package for me until later in the evening, then bring it onto the stage with you.”
She passed across the large package she’d had delivered to the hotel.
“Now you’re going to say, ‘Oh, alright. Sorry to have bothered you. Have a great evening,’ then you’re going to forget the last two minutes, all except what to do with that package.”

“Oh, alright. Sorry to have bothered you. Have a great evening.” She looked around in confusion. “What just happened?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it. You just spaced out for a moment there. You’re absolutely fine.”

Carrie headed into the sports hall with its festive decorations and tables of food and drink. She allowed herself a few nibbles and a glass of punch and began circulating. “I don’t remember you,” was the most common opening line anyone used with her, to which she invariably replied, “Don’t worry, you will.” More observant people offered up something on the lines of, “I thought the girls name was spelled C-A-R-R-I-E.” Again, she had a standard response. “This was how my parents spelt it on my birth certificate.”

Beyond that, conversation tended to peter out quite quickly. The evening was about getting back in touch with your past, and since no-one recognised her, they had nothing to share with her. “Did you actually come to this school?” was a regular last attempt at raising a conversation. Again she only had the one response, “Yes, but I wasn’t here long. I was taken out of the school after the junior prom.”

That did elicit a few responses along the lines of, “Did it have anything to do with that weird kid who came to the prom in a dress? Now what was his name?”

The clues were all there for them to find, but no-one got any closer, and she wasn’t about to help them. She was here to pass judgement, and so far they were all falling pretty short of the mark.

The evening drifted by. There was music and she was invited to dance, which she did more often than not, and racked up the black marks against individuals as they sought to rest their hands on her ass, or spent the entire dance staring at her tits. Each time she raised the topic of who they thought would win prom king and queen with Alison and Harvey not being present. Each time she insinuated her own ideas and saw them take hold.

Midnight approached and the music wound to a close. The same largish woman who’d distributed the name tags at the beginning of the evening stepped forward. She was carrying a large package with her, which seemed to confuse her, so she put it down behind her.

“Good evening friends. We have an exciting situation tonight. As you know for quite a few years now, the honours of reunion king and queen have gone to Harvey and Alison Lewis, probably mostly because we’ve all been a little afraid of what Alison might say about us in her column, or what Harvey might do to any of us if we did anything else. Since they’re not here tonight though, we’re free to choose from anyone else in the room, so... exciting.”

She cracked open an envelope and read, “Tonight’s reunion queen is... Carrie Leach. Come on everyone, let’s give it up for Carrie.”

She acknowledged the smatter of half-hearted applause and made her way up onto the stage where she accepted her plastic tiara and bunch of flowers.

“And our reunion king – the lucky chap who gets to spend the rest of the evening with this beautiful lady is...”

She looked at the card a little confused.

“Cary Leach?”

“That would also be me,” Carrie said relieving her plumpness of the plastic crown, the second bunch of flowers and the microphone.

“None of you remembers me. I mean, that’s hardly surprising since I’ve changed quite a bit, but not one of you even remembers my name.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised about that either because, as I’ve mentioned to some of you this evening, I left shortly after the junior prom. That seemed to spark a memory with a few of you, who then recalled an incident involving Primo Jack and a sad little boy who came to the prom wearing a dress.

“Not one of you remembers his name though, despite it being right in front of your face.” She indicated her name badge. “Perhaps this might jog a few memories.” She closed her eyes took a deep breath. “I am as I actually appear. No illusions, no pretence, and everyone can see me as I am.”

A collective gasp went round the room.

“As you can see, time hasn’t been as kind to me as it has to most of you, and I’ll get to the reason for that in a minute.

“My name is Cary Leach. That’s Cary with one R and a Y. My mum was a big Cary Grant fan, whose real name, I’m sure you are aware, was Archibald Leach. I’m pretty sure the surname was most of the reason she married my dad, but neither of them was particularly gifted when it came to parenting.

“I grew up feeling like I didn’t fit into this world somehow. Mum and Dad tried to get me to play with other boys in the neighbourhood, but I didn’t feel like I fit in. Some of you were among those kids; you remember what I was like, how you used to take the piss out of me.
“Eventually I gave up on you lot and went to play with the girls – and some of you lot are here tonight too. That was okay until it wasn’t. Then my folks said I shouldn’t have anything to do with the girls, unless I was dating one of them. You girls changed as well. Suddenly I was like some total stranger to you, not to be trusted, not part of your little clique of girls. Not even dating material apparently.

“That’s when I kind turned into that sad loner no-one remembers. Nothing in common with the lads, nothing you girls fucking wanted to deal with.

“Sometime during our first year at school here, we had that sex ed lesson on LGBTQ and shit. It was the first time I heard about what being transgendered meant, and it felt like they were describing me.

“I didn’t mention it to many people, but somehow Alison Lewis – Alison Peters back then – heard about it and befriended me. She started calling me girlfriend and treating me like I was just another girl. It took me back to the way things had been before, and I fell for it all the way.

“It was her who persuaded me to come to the prom in a dress – a dress very much like this one as it happens, but none of you girls picked up on that, did you. Her boyfriend at the time was Harvey Lewis. I mean, that was true all through high school until they married, so no big surprise there. Anyway, Harvey hooked me up with a date and both Alison and Harvey reassured me he was cool with me or would be if I gave him a blow job at the beginning of the evening.

“You’ll remember the incident. Harvey and Alison got you all to hide among the bleachers out on the sports field, then then my date, Primo Jack as I’ve already mentioned, led me to this quiet place, or so we thought, and had me kneel down and undo his fly.”

“Fuck, I remember that now. That was sick,” a voice said from the middle of the crowd, then laughed.

“Yes Andrew, it was sick, but in a more literal sense than I suspect you’re thinking. You may all remember, Betty Barnes, who I believe was responsible for giving most guys here their first home run? She confided with Alison that Jack tended to go off half cocked, as it were. She was the one who suggested his nickname, which he wore with pride right up until that evening when you all delighted in telling him what it stood for, but that wasn’t until after I pulled his dick out of his pants and was treated to a face full of semen.”

A few people in the crowd laughed. Most of them smiled at the memory.

“Those of you who laughed just now. A bit childish, don’t you think? I mean, no thought about what it meant for me, or for Jack. Sort of baby humour to laugh at someone else’s misery, wouldn’t you agree?
“In my experience, babies wear diapers, so why don’t you come up here and get one each? Just those of you who still thinks that incident was something to laugh at.”
Nobody moved.
“If you make me insist, it’ll be worse for you.”
Still nobody moved.
“Alright. Those of you who laughed a minute ago, you will come up on the stage right now, strip yourselves bare assed naked and put on one of these.” Cary picked up the packet of adult diapers and tore it open.
It took a second or two, but about half a dozen, the previously mentioned Andrew among them, climbed unsteadily onto the stage and started to undress.
It was worse for the one or two girls among them, since once they had the diapers on, they had nothing to cover their breasts.
“That’s better,” Cary said. “Now, babies tend not to worry about when and where they relieve themselves, so neither should you. If you need to piss or shit, just do it there where you stand.”
From the looks on their faces, they all let something go. The diapers weren’t entirely successful at masking the smell either, especially in Andrew’s case since he’d gone the whole way in relieving himself.
“Andrew,” Cary singled him out. “I know that inside you know how humiliating this is. You’re acting like a toddler because I told you to, but inside your head you know you aren’t one, and you feel deeply demeaned by what you’re doing. The thing is, I don’t know if it goes far enough in helping you understand how horrifying that experience was for me.
“It wasn’t just having something as disgusting as that happen to me, although that was pretty bad, nor was it the humiliation of having everyone I knew witness the event and laugh their fucking heads off at me.
“But I guess part of what we’re here to do tonight – what I’m here to do at any rate – is to show you just that. So why don’t you stick your hand down the back of your diaper and grab a handful of what you just put there?
“No? You do know that if you don’t choose to do it yourself, it’ll be worse? Fair enough. Stick your hand down the back of your diaper, grab a handful of your own shit and smear it all over your face and hair, then lick you hand clean.”
Andrew tried to resist, but he couldn’t.
“What’s the matter, everyone? Isn’t this as funny as what happened to me at junior prom? Don’t you think it’s funny? That maybe you should be laughing?
“You know I can make you do it, but if you need me to make you do it, I’m going to have to make you do a lot more.
“How would you like it if I had you all in diapers, pissing and shitting yourself and smearing yourself with your own filth? How would you like it if I left you like that for the rest of your fucking lives?”
They laughed. It was strained in the extreme, their faces showing more of the horror they were feeling than any actual humour, but they were too terrified to do anything else.
Carrie – and it was the girl inside her rather than the bloated man she had grown into – looked at what she’d done and shared something of the disgust everyone was feeling. This was too much.
“Andrew, stop. All of you,” she indicated the group on stage, grab your clothes, go to the locker rooms, clean yourselves up and put your own clothes back on. Leave the diapers in the locker rooms for now, but hang onto them as a reminder of this evening. Be quick though. Don’t make me come looking for you.”
She watched as they left then turned to the crowd.
“I had that in mind for all of you, because that’s what you did to me. You laughed at me during the worst moment of my life then forgot me. It didn’t occur to you to even wonder what happened to me after that, did it? I never occurred to even one of you to think about what I went through.”
“I mean, sure, Alison was at the heart of it. She befriended me, made me feel special, then went to town on getting me ready for the evening. Hair, makeup, the works. I’d lived all my life with an odd sense that I would have been so much happier as a girl, and Alison gave that to me, let the inner me free and I was soaring on the sheer delight of being who I felt I really was, even being seen as such by a not unattractive boy.

“One minute on cloud nine, the next plummeting onto the rocks as it became evident it was all a setup. I cannot express how horrendous that experience was for me. My date abandoned me, the person I thought to be a close friend betrayed me and everyone I knew – that’s you lot, in case I’m not making myself clear – laughed at me while I totally lost my shit.”

The room fell utterly silent.

“You do remember that don’t you? The way this girl – or boy in a dress from your perspective – sat in the dirt, covered in the most revolting of substances, her hair ruined, her dress ruined, her makeup ruined, screaming and crying her heart out while every one of you looked on and mocked her.”

No-one seemed able to hold her gaze.

“So anyway, thank you for these. The crowns are a bit tacky, but the flowers are lovely. If you’ll excuse me a moment.” Again she closed her eyes. “I am a beautiful woman. Everyone sees me as I was before.

“I hope you’ll excuse me, but this is the way I prefer people to see me. As you can see, I have acquired the ability to change people’s perception of reality. It’s a relatively recent change in my life which, as you can also see, I’m putting to good use, even though I don’t really know where it came from.

“I’ve heard that extreme trauma can cause unexpected changes, so perhaps the misery of that junior prom kicked this off. My parents didn’t know what to do with me when I finally made it home after the prom. They were particular disgusted that I should come home in a dress covered in another boy’s... effluence. I was sent to get cleaned up then shut in my room.
“Apparently, I cried non-stop for days and screamed at anyone who approached me. In the end they felt they had no choice but to have me committed.

“They sent me to an asylum run by a joke of a psychiatrist and left me to get better or not as I was able. They made no attempt to visit me, and I know this because they told me. The dress did it for them more than the mess, I think. Dad in particular wanted nothing to do with me until I’d been ‘fixed’ as it were.

“They told me this after I visited them once I escaped from the asylum. So I told them to forget they’d ever had a child. That they knew they’d be terrible parents and had decided that the fairest thing they could do was abstain from sex for the rest of their lives.

“Another thing that may have brought this ability to life might have been the misery of staying in that place. They kept me drugged pretty much until I was a shuffling zombie. You don’t get great exercise like that, and the food they gave us wasn’t the best for nutrition. I have great self-control now because I’ve told myself to have it, but it’s taking time to have any effect.

“Where I am indulging myself, is in getting a little payback against the people who stole the last twelve years of my life. I’ve told you about my parents, but not about my shrink who spent twelve years trying to convince me that I could stop wanting to be a girl, until I convinced him that he’d never be happy unless he was wearing a pretty dress.”

The diaper crowd re-entered the room, Andrew with wet hair but otherwise presentable.

“Jack Sanders has been busy getting his own revenge on you bastards for his humiliation, and taking it a bit too far, so I persuaded him to own up to his shady dealings which, you may have read in the local paper, got him sacked.”

“You’re the reason the bank’s compensating us for the foreclosure?”

“Indirectly, and I suppose similar levels of compensation coming to other people here.”

There were general murmurs of appreciation.

“Oh, don’t think you’re getting away Scott free. You all still owe me for twelve wasted years – no, you can’t move. Your feet are too heavy.”

Several individuals who’d been edging towards the door stopped very abruptly.

“You are going to remember this account number.” She reeled off a string of numbers and instructed them to read them back. “Those numbers are going to be stuck in your mind from this day onward. The only way you’re going to be able to stop thinking about them is if, when your compensation comes through, you transfer the full amount into the account.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Funny that, the way it’s not fair when you lose out, but when it’s some weird little anonymous kid whose life is ruined, that’s just a good laugh, and then you can forget about it. You think I’d do what I did to Alison and Harvey then forget about you fuckers?”

“Shit, that was you?”

She looked across at a face she thought she recognised from the police station.

“Good evening officer. There are quite a few details missing from the newspaper story. Do you want to share them, or should I?”

“I can’t divulge details of an ongoing investigation.”

“That’d be me then. Alison is currently suffering from the aftermath of a severe overindulgence in cream cakes, and she does not make an attractive plump woman. She is of the opinion that Harvey has been cheating on her, and in retaliation to his most recently insisting that she suck him off, she bit off his cock. Harvey, in the meantime, recently sold me his Corvette...”

“I knew it was his!” came from within the crowd.

“He has also learned to love taking it up the ass, and whether or not the surgeon can give him his dick back in any sort of working condition, he’s only ever going to crave somebody ass fucking him from here on.

“Now, how much of that was down to me is going to be up to the police and the legal profession to prove, but it strikes me as a fair response for what the two of them deliberately did to me twelve years ago, especially when your earlier announcement,” Carrie indicated the woman who’d declared her both king and queen for the evening, “suggests that they haven’t changed much.

“As for you lot, I was going to send you out like Andrew just now, to spend the rest of your miserable fucking lives wearing diapers like the childish babies you all are.”

She paused and looked around the room as terror filled their minds.

“But I don’t know. It feels a little harsh. I mean children are supposed to grow up, aren’t they? What kind of asshole would that make me if I just left you like that?”

Wary relief. They knew they weren’t going to get off completely.

“The way I see it, Alison and Harvey were the main instigators in the whole thing with you lot – Jack Sanders included – allowing yourselves to be led into doing something you should have known better about.”

They all seemed eager to agree, to lessen their involvement and therefore the payback coming their way.

“I’m glad you agree. You see, I came across a term which describes you perfectly. I’m guessing you’ve heard of sheeple? Moronic idiots who go along with whatever anyone tells them to do without judging for themselves whether it’s right or wrong?

“Kind of describes you lot, don’t you think? It’s the way I see you.” Hair all around her started turning woolly and white, noses were broadening, eyes turning weirdly ovine, occasional quiet bleating sounds appearing from here and there. “In fact, it’s the way you’re going to see yourselves and each other from now on.” The bleats became more alarmed as the crowd looked at each other. “And you’re going to be stuck like this until you start thinking for yourselves, taking responsibility for your own actions, and not letting anyone else influence what you do or say or think. You’re going to be stuck like this until you start getting a little pro-active and thinking about the way your actions have consequences, and how you should base your decisions with at least some consideration of how they affect other people.

“And now, I think I’m done with you lot. Thank you in advance for the compensation you’re going to give me. I mean, you don’t have to of course, but that account number is going to burn itself into your brains until you do, so your choice. You could think of it as a first step towards considering how your choices affect others. If you hadn’t so casually decided to make fun of my misery, if even one of you had shown me some genuine support, it’s possible I wouldn’t have ended up in the nut house for twelve years, and I would have had the benefit of an income over that period, so it’s kind of fair, don’t you think?

“I could say I hope you make your way towards being better people, but honestly, I don’t think I care. Anymore than you cared what happened to me a dozen years ago.

“If any of you get round to visiting Alison in prison, or Harvey in hospital, do please tell them exactly who I am and why their lives have been so utterly destroyed.”

“You won’t get away with this, beeaah.” The police officer she’d recognised earlier was looking decidedly woolly headed.

“Oh? How do you figure? Are you going to put out an APB for someone who looks like this?” She focused on her appearance, imagining herself with Hispanic features and dark hair and eyes. “Or maybe like this?”

“The car’s a bit of a giveaway. Mheeaah.”

“I don’t really care about the car; just about taking it away from Harvey.

“Besides, if you did catch up with me, what are you going to accuse me of? Using my mysterious mind powers to make people act against their best interests? I can’t see any jury in this country convicting me on the basis of what you have to tell them.”

She took a few steps towards the exit then paused.

“And even if it did look like they might just be crazy enough to convict me, all I’d need to do would be persuade my council to put me on the stand and I could tell everyone, judge, jury and everyone present, how preposterous a tale they were being told, and who do you think they’d end up believing?”

She took the final steps to the door. People were still struggling to move.

“Oh yeah, that’s a point. That heaviness in your feet is going to fade as soon as I walk through this door, but a word of warning, any of you come after me to try to stop me and you’re going to experience the sort of intense orgasm you’ve only ever dreamed of. It’ll leave you rolling helplessly on the ground for fifteen minutes, and no sex you have afterwards will ever be quite as good.”

She walked out the door. Inevitably, there were a few who tried to chase her, but they didn’t make it five feet past the threshold.

She sat in the car and twisted the rear-view mirror to look at her face. A moment’s concentration and the dusky features faded to be replaced by the ones she preferred. She liked this face and planned to keep it, along with the car for that matter. If they chased her then she’d do what needed to be done.

She felt weary. Payback was a bitch, they said, and she was tired of being a bitch. Maybe her subconscious had responded to her ideas about suppressing testosterone and increasing oestrogen production in her body. She certainly felt less of the rage that had filled her after her escape from the asylum. She had her revenge now, but it wasn’t what she’d hoped. What was that quote about it being a dish best served cold? Maybe it was, but if so, the coldness of it all left her feeling sick to her stomach.

She’d been pleased with her solution for the crowd at the reunion at least. Sure she’d taken their money, or persuaded them to give it to her soon enough, but that was her due. She’d endured twelve years of misery because every one of those assholes had laughed at her at the most traumatic time in her young life, so they owed her.

The diaper thing had felt wrong from the moment she inflicted on them, on Andrew especially. It hadn’t when she’d first thought of it, but she felt a gentleness inside her now that hadn’t been there yesterday. It felt kind of girly, which pleased her more than she cared to admit.

The diapers had come as close to giving them a taste – possibly literally in Andrew’s case – of what she’d experienced on junior prom night. She’d seen the fear and disgust in their eyes, and maybe that was enough to wake them up.

The threat had been real. Right up to that moment when she’d seen their reaction, she’d intended to go through with it, but then she’d caught a glimpse of the future – one where she had to live with the consequences of what she’d done. She wasn’t like them; laugh it off and tell herself it hadn’t been her fault.

The sheeple thing had been a so much better idea. Restorative justice was a term she’d heard often enough in her time in the asylum, particularly aimed towards the criminal inmates. No sense in offering forgiveness if no remorse was shown. Three Hail Mary’s and you’re free to go away and do it all over again may have worked for the Corleones, but it wasn’t right. Then again, just as wrong would be to impose a lifelong sentence with no possibility of parole. Her first plan would have done that. Every person present at the reunion eating shit every day for the rest of his or her life, fully aware of how foul it tasted, fully aware of how disgusting it was.

No, the sheeple thing was better. It told them every day something of what they were doing wrong, and that they were choosing to continue doing it wrong, then if they could get their act together enough to change, they could emerge from the misery of their punishment and become better individuals.

You never knew, they might even think the experience was worth the money they were being forced to pay. Not likely, but possible, and hard fucking luck if not.

She thought of Alison and of Harvey. They had been the masterminds behind all the horror and misery she’d experienced, and having done their worst to her, they’d gone on to do it to others. Alison scouring social media for titbits of news she could use to shame her ‘friends’ and Harvey... Well, what could you say about Harvey? Anyone ready to persuade an unwary passer-by to surrender a ton of money for a rusty heap of bolts that would barely make it to the nearest intersection, was capable of a lot worse.

They deserved what they’d been given, surely? Alison might manage to evade a prison sentence with that hideously embarrassing video footage of her husband wearing her nightdress taking it up the ass from some overweight man, all the while begging for more, but she’d never be able to resist a cream cake again in her life, and she’d never lose her reputation as the woman who had bitten off her husband’s cock because he preferred other men to fuck him over anything she could give him. She’d end up lonely and unloved, just like she’d intended for her own victims.

As for Harvey, he might never recover full use of that part of his anatomy he considered so important, and he’d crave being butt fucked every day for the rest of his life, all the while feeling every bit of the degradation of being on the receiving end of what he’d done to women all his adult life.

She felt a small, diminishing part of herself cursing her own weakness as she made mental plans to come back in a year or so. She had to know if any of the people she’d screwed with – Alison and Harvey included, in fact probably especially them – were capable of feeling remorse.

She’d not be able to give Alison back her reputation, or Harvey his ability to fuck anyone, but if the regret was there, she could take away the cravings she’d given them. The ones she knew they despised.

Assuming they showed regret of course. If they didn’t, maybe she wouldn’t feel so bad about leaving them as they were.

She adjusted the rear-view mirror so it showed the idiots convulsing on the ground behind her. She had warned them, and there were consequences to ignoring warnings. She didn’t have to feel guilty about them.

And that was what lay at the heart of the matter: guilt. She had felt it eating at her even as she’d acted on her hate.

That was something one of the other patients at the asylum had said to her once while the rage had been building inside her. Holding onto anger us like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. The best thing to do with hate was to let it go

That meant letting go of the things you wanted to do to those who’d harmed you too.

Of course that was easier now that she’d acted on her hate.

Except it wasn’t because it had been replaced by a deepening sense of emptiness and regret. What she’d done said more about her than it did about the people she’d done it to, and she didn’t want to be that person.

She exchanged her heels for the flats and put on her seat belt. It was late, but she wasn’t tired. The state line was less than an hour’s drive away, after which there’d be an all-night motel somewhere she could put her head down.

She was pretty good at driving stick now. She’d told herself she was, so she was. It didn’t excite her though, so maybe she would sell the car. She’d maybe keep it for a few hundred miles, at least until she drove into some weather that suggested something a little more practical, then cash it in. The balance should keep her going until the first of the bank settlements arrived, then she’d find a small out of the way place to settle down and see what changes she could convince her body to make. If just the hint of a desire could persuade her subconscious to mess with her hormones, who knew what a little deliberate, focused thought might accomplish? Maybe one day she’d be able to stand in front of a mirror without telling herself what to see first.

It took a little bit of the bleakness out of her future. She was alone, but that was no different from the way things had been for the last twelve years. Forgotten by her parents as much as by the people she’d thought were her friends. But then relationships needed work from both sides. She’d burned her bridges here; she didn’t expect a single person in this town to feel kindly towards her now, besides, she had no particular desire for any of them to do so.

No, it was time for a fresh start. Maybe her ability would enable her to make some of the physical changes she wanted in herself, but she knew she wouldn’t really be happy with what she saw reflected in the mirror until she changed on a deeper level. Her abilities were dangerously powerful and likely to cause her as much harm as anyone else should she not learn to exercise a little self-control.

Maybe it was time to do more to benefit people, like she’d done with the hotel manager. That had actually felt good.

Maybe there would be some other fuckwit about who only wanted to take, and screw anyone who stood in his way. What she’d done to the pimp had felt good too.

Actually, scratch that. There were bound to be fuckwits like him. The measure of the woman would be in how restrained she could be in her justice.

“You are kind, and fair and just,” she told herself as she pulled out onto the empty road. “Strong enough to do what needs to be done when it needs to be done, and wise enough to know when a gentler hand is needed.”

She felt the change settle on herself. This was the person she wanted to be. And if it was that easy to change herself on the inside... She focused on the physical changes she wanted.