Lamb And Lion

By Tyrone Slothrop- an Angelverse story

Predators and prey, prey and predators. One good turn deserves a……hero

Chapter 1: Angel Flies

There was just something about a nice full skirt. Angel was a devoted fan of “Sex And The City” and had decided to emulate Carrie on this plane ride. His hair was done in one of her season five styles, curled and off the shoulder. With his face, lean body and five foot seven inch frame, he never worried about being ‘read’. Angel could not conceive of that problem, not because he was so good, but because he had never cared.

The guy next to him was very polite, offering Angel the window seat if he wanted it. Angel smiled and said that the aisle would be fine, he was a bit afraid of heights. They settled in for the two hour flight, allowing Angel to read the series of firearms magazines he had in his shoulder bag.

The sky marshal, traveling undercover, looked at Angel’s reading material and decided he should keep an eye on the pretty girl in row 2. Angel looked up at him and flashed a full white toothed smile, which brought out his makeup effectively. The sky marshal smiled back, an automatic response, despite his training to avoid personal connection with the passengers.

The flight arrived at the airport on the Pacific coast safely. Angel had the porter retrieve his bags and load them into a waiting taxi. He sent the first cab away because the upholstery was filthy and he really liked the dress, even though he would probably have to leave it here. Sometimes he had to leave a place suddenly.

The hotel room had been rented by a friend the prior week. Angel went to the desk, his heels clicking on the oak wood flooring, and asked for a companion key to room 1212. He fished his driver’s license out of his bag, which showed his baby face framed by his brown hair. Without makeup, the picture could suggest either a pretty young woman or a finely featured young man. There was a slight scratch in the laminate over the M or F designation, enough to obscure it if anybody looked at the license quickly.

The clerk smiled at Angel, since she was also a fan of the show, and struck up a conversation about Carrie and Angel’s resemblance. The two talked for at least ten minutes until the line behind Angel started to get a bit antsy.

“Have a nice stay, Angel, you and your brother enjoy this fine weather!” The desk concierge said cheerily.

Angel, alone in the room, partially unpacked. He took a glass of ice water and watched the sunset on the balcony, letting the sea breeze flow through his hair and around his skirted legs. The rustle of the petticoat was very sensual.

He then returned and with a hint of sadness, took off the dress and retired his Carrie look. He removed the breast prostheses and showered, needing to destroy his hairstyle. It was time to become Eric. He always had to leave the best hotel rooms too soon.

Chapter 2: Contact

Angel disliked being Eric, because Eric hated himself. Eric’s legend, or manufactured story for those of you who don’t read LeCarre, was that he had moved in with his old buddy Freddie since his divorce. Freddie had a beat up townhouse down on the marina and was the local recovering alcoholic who had found God. Which meant the locals avoided him like the plague, most of them being into the boat and bar scene.

He hated fern bars, their character was so manufactured. His martini was orphaned, down to a single olive slowly becoming one with the vodka. He had been zeroed in by the local hunters. The gay guys knew he wasn’t, the straight guys were spooked and the women were dismissive and curious simultaneously. He was only interested in one particular woman, however. This was his second night here and he had just spotted her.

Victoria Prentille, using her real name in a display of totally indifferent arrogance, came up to Angel and dropped a business card into his drink. She blew him a kiss and walked away, her shapely ass moving in time to the rhythm of her heel clicks on the parquet. Her red hair waved across her naked back, almost totally revealed by her cocktail dress. Angel wondered how she held up those magnificent breasts.

He read the card through the refracting haze of the vermouth.

For My Special Men-
“I Have What You Need”
Miss Victoria- by appointment only

No phone, no fax, no email, no postal address.

Fortunately Angel knew where she was staying, Victoria has borrowed a penthouse from her brother over at the Marina Condos.

The waitress reluctantly provided service, visibly rolling her eyes as she approached.

“Another one. Whatever happened to real guys?” she thought, almost saying it aloud.

Angel smiled subtly. He read her reaction and knew his projected role was just what he wanted.

“I’ve left you something, Miss. Thank you for your excellent service.” Angel said in his best man trying to fit in with women voice. The service had sucked for openers and graduated to world class surly as the evening progressed.

He smiled at her grin for getting thirty percent for treating him like crap.

He picked up his light brown Coach bag, which just happened to match his hip length soft leather jacket as well as his shoes and walked out of the bar, checking his shoulder length hair in the mirror on the exit door. He liked the small emeralds in his ears, they matched his eyes. He brushed some dust off his black knit pants with his hand, his clear polish glinting in the soft red light of the exit sign.

His had borrowed a car from Fred and regretted it. A light blue Passat with problems embedded in the fuel injection. It was driving him crazy, feeling the engine just miss mixing and firing correctly.

Tonight was the night it was going to happen. Tonight , tomorrow and Sunday, He had a flight out of town booked for Sunday evening. And he planned to be on it.

Chapter 3: Slick Vicky

Victoria just knew he would come. The smart ones could never avoid it. It was too bad, this one was classically beautiful, if a bit short. Vicky liked her victims taller. And richer. But sweet little Eric would do. And not fight like the last one.

Victoria Prentille had been on a crusade which had turned into a classic badger game. Since her husband had left her for that THING, that girly man, she had found her release through her new hobby.

Victoria granted the wishes of men, men who were looking for their feminine side. She was more than happy to be their spirit guide.

Victoria laughed out loud. A spirit guide right over the cliff. She wanted these men to really get the whole experience of being a woman. A certain kind of woman.

All was in place. The hairdresser, the bank teller, the muscle, her airline ticket. The condo doorman was prepared to say she had not been here since last year.

Victoria felt things had just fallen into place. Eric was already halfway there, with his fashions and androgynous look. She needed that, she only had the weekend before she moved on to her month stay on the Whitsunday Islands, and with Eric she could move him along fast.

Chapter 3: Fly On Approach, Web In Sight

Angel was not happy with posing as Eric. He either preferred being masculine or feminine in appearance and felt at peace in either state of dress. Eric as he played him was supposed to be a crossdresser too frightened to go all the way but too needy to hold it in. Perfect prey for a vulture like Prentille.

Angel had known hundreds of Erics. He felt for them. They were bound and consumed by their own fears and needs, a life of pendulum swings instead of balance.

All of the shame and fear of appearing ‘wrong’ had been driven out of Angel at age twelve, by his Mistress and her art of pain and humiliation. He had watched her die at the hands of the Group, and joined their cause. What little fragment of soul he had left he signed over to them.

They had forged him into a instrument of retribution, with his enthusiastic participation. They had also given him the unconditional love which he had never before experienced.

As he approached the front door of Victoria’s penthouse, he invoked the preparatory mental zen routines his sensei had given him. Angel always held out the hope of redemption, that his target would sense Angel’s pure heart and cease what they were doing, having a realization that they should treat no fellow human being with their intended methods and machinations. He knew he would be rewarded someday, and his would be tormentor would realize the error of their ways. Angel was prepared to be patient.

Chapter 4: The Enticement

Victoria answered the door wearing a strapless basque in black, with gartered stockings. Her red hair flowed over her incredible bosom. With her five inch stilettos, she towered over Eric’s five feet seven inches.

“I was hoping you’d come. I just love your hair. I could not take my eyes off of it back at the Marina Grill..” Vicky spoke breathlessly. She touched Eric’s brown curls and giggled.

Eric entered with the wave of Vicky’s hand. Angel looked out from the eyes of his character and saw an opulently decorated and appointed living area, with an incredible view of the Pacific, something that a middle class paycheck to paycheck administrator would be find staggering. Eric the character spent all of his money on clothes and his ‘secret hobby’. He could only imagine living in a place like this. He could never dream of someone like Vicky paying any attention to him, much less indulging his little concessions to femininity.

Angel tried to deliver an Eric as excited, stimulated and a bit overwhelmed.

“Let me take your purse, darling. And your lovely jacket. They really look good together.” Vicky kept up the sugar stream, enticing the insect into her web.

Vicky served Eric a drink, a potent blend of several liquors laced with lots of sugar. Boat drinks. Eric quickly downed one and was on his second. He was clearly loosening up. Vicki was also loosening up, so that her breasts were close to popping right out of the cups of the basque.

She stroked Eric in an expert, almost clinical way to heighten his arousal and was careful to not let him touch her in any significant way. She had to set the right positioning in their relationship. Her whole focus was to let his secret desires emerge. His desire for sex would be subordinated to his desire to be feminine. At least for a while.

Vicky’s method was simple. She appeared as the chimera, the unicorn, the mythical creature of crossdressers, the woman who wanted them to dress and was sexually excited by their dressing. Then she played her game, her way.

The initial critical setup had worked flawlessly. She already had Eric’s pants and shirt off, in a pile on the floor, revealing his thong made of satin. Some strategic kissing, a lot of fussing and cooing and Eric’s excitement could not be constrained. The thong was not enough to contain it. Good , Vicky thought, he responds to me. Control of orgasm gives you a lot of control of personality, she believed.

Angel was glad he had taken a large dose of Viagra before he came over. He was going to need it.

“Sweetie, could you light me before you go clean up. We have a whole night and I like my boys clean and sweet smelling.” Vicky commanded him, a long slim cigarette on her lips.

Eric used the table lighter and walked over to the bathroom. His head was downcast.

Vicky took some lighter fluid from a drawer and sprayed a small amount on Eric’s pants and shirt, now in a pile on the floor.

When she heard Eric finishing up and she could see he was naked by the reflection in the mirror, trying to wash out his thong in the sink. Vicky dropped her cigarette onto the right spot on Eric’s pants. When they were flaring up enough, she knew the smoke alarm was about to go off.

“Eeeeekkk! Fire! Help!” Vicky squealed.

Eric ran out of the bathroom naked, seeing his clothes on fire and grabbed a water pitcher on the table. He doused the small fire, ice cubes clattering over the floor. The alarm sounded.

Vicky hugged Eric. “Thank you! I must have dropped my cigarette, silly me. It is a bad habit. You saved me!”

There was a banging at the door.

“Oh, God, it’s the doorman! He can’t find a man here! My brother will kill me! Go hide! Now!” Vicky said. She pushed Eric into the bedroom and then into her walk in closet.

Delbert used his key and opened the penthouse door. He figured this was an easy fifty bucks for looking the other way. Who gave a shit if some broad was screwing around? He wished she would screw around with him, he’d give her the fifty back.

“Fire Ma’m! Where is it?” Delbert said, loud enough for Eric to hear.

“Here, I just dropped a cigarette, Delbert. It’s out.”

Delbert keyed off the buzzing alarm. “Looks like men’s clothes, Ma’m. You know I have to report to your brother.”

“Oh , no Delbert! These are my girlfriend’s! She’s just here for awhile! You know I can’t have men here!” Vicky closed the setup, whining loud enough for Eric’s benefit.

Chapter 5: Consumed

Angel smiled. Victoria had closed all the trap doors at once. Damsel in distress. Need to appear as a woman. No clothes. With more setups built in. He admired her capability the way soldiers respect the skill of their adversaries. He wished she was on his side, the Group could use this kind of talent.

Angel examined the contents of the closet. He was not surprised to find a variety of sizes in lingerie and dresses, especially the plus sizes. He also grinned that there was absolutely nothing that would allow a man to pass as a man. No pants, no sweats, no man tailored shirts. He also thought Vicky had very nice taste, if a little towards the obvious side. Angel could live with obvious, he found it to be fun on occasion. A few drawers were locked. He assumed those were the special items, to be revealed later in the transform.

Angel selected a robe with frills and flounces. It was the easiest to cover Eric’s nakedness, and the least outrageous choice. He was grateful Vicky was a redhead and avoided the usual preferred color of his targets, pink. Angel was so sick of pink in these situations.

Vicky opened the closet door. “He’s gone for now, but we have a problem, sweetheart.”

The tale was spun and Angel had Eric in wide eyed amazement at what unfolded. Vicky’s brother was a beast and had her on a short leash. She was forbidden to associate with men in the condo, and men in general. Her brother was dangerous and she feared he had done horrible things to other boyfriends she had. Her brother controlled all her money. It was tragic. All because she loved her men to be soft and caring and not afraid to be gentle.

Vicky looked up at Eric’s eyes. “That robe is so cute on you, it drives me wild, dearie. I’ll bet you like it too, don’t you? Isn’t it soft and comfy?”

Angel allowed Eric to get visibly erect. It was easy, he really did like the robe.

Vicky said she had an idea, especially since Eric’s clothes were ruined anyway. A little disguise to keep the doorman from reporting her. Eric would pose as her girlfriend. Vicky would help.

“Won’t you do that, Eric? I know you can, even though it would be too much to ask. Most men would be too stupid to be able to help me, but you can do it, I know you can.” Vicky was very persuasive, applying a tongue to Eric’s ear and a hand on his crotch. Vicky made sure Eric ejaculated all over the robe.

Eric agreed, since after all, he would be in danger too. He would pose as Vicki’s girlfriend Erica until Sunday. As if any crossdresser could give that one a pass.

Vicky went to work. After having Erica clean himself up again, she made sure he washed his hair again.

Erica was standing there, around nine pm, naked and shivering, mostly with anticipation. Angel was in awe of the fantasy realization Vicky was spinning, all with little guilt removers and permission slips along the way.

“Let’s harness you up, Erica dear. I don’t want to run out of clean clothes, tonight.” Vicky gaffed up Erica, making sure that tonight would be focused on a girl’s slumber party with just kissy face. Not that she was physically afraid of the little man.

After a while of expert fussing and dawdling over the selections, Erica was in a matching basque with some breast forms glued on, conveniently ‘left over from a girlfriend who needed them’, his hair blow dried and full, some modest make up except for his eyes which were immodest, fishnet stockings and high heeled mules.

Chapter 6: Bound In Satin

After an hour of cuddling with Vicky, Eric was served another boat drink. This one made him sleepy. Angel assumed it was a strong sedative. He staggered to the bedroom, with Vicky steering him towards the smaller bedroom down the hall. He collapsed on the bed and Vicky covered him.

With Eric safely out cold, Victoria Prentille changed into another cocktail dress, arranged her hair and went out to meet her date for the evening. She licked her lips thinking that this one was going to be all man. She planned to be home before the little girly boy woke up.

She gave Delbert the fifty on the way out, telling him he did wonderfully and reminding him of the fact that she had not been there for a year.

Ten am sun hit Eric’s eyelids. He staggered out of bed, stumbling by having only one mule on his feet. He removed it and went into the bathroom. His makeup was a mess, but Angel knew he should not repair it until he saw Vicky. He did straighten out his hair and smoothed out the front of the basque. Time to see the Mistress of the house, he thought.

“Erica, darling, you should fix your face! Let sister Vicky help you!” Vicky was dressed in a simple sundress, but her shoes told Angel she was going to go out. He figured the money came next in the scheme.

So, makeup repaired, Vicky had Erica dress to go out, soothing his fears and concerns about being found out. He ended up in a similar dress but with a padded girdle and waist cincher. Angel felt insulted at Vicky’s perceived need for that form of control, he had spent hours keeping his waist as trim as he could. The bitch will pay for that one, he thought. At least the bra supported the awful breast forms. More heels, just in his size, were available. Amazing how lucky they were. Delbert would never suspect, Vicky said.

“Have some yoghurt Erica, we girls have to watch our figures.” Angel thought that Vicky was losing some edge, that last line sounded like bad TG fiction. He ate the yoghurt anyway, needing to soak up the alcohol and whatever she had drugged him with.

So now Vicky laid out the second scam. She needed money, cash, now. To pay off Delbert, to convince him not to call her brother. To get out of town on Sunday for a few days and away from her brother’s other spies. Could Erica loan her some money, being like a sister, or more like a girl lover? And her car?

Vicky had Erica in her lap, kissing her on the nape of the neck while this negotiation was going on. Erica agreed. Vicky could have half her money and borrow her car. But they would need to get to the bank soon.

Bonnie Belinder had been a teller at the Marina Savings for a year. She hated her job with a passion. She hated her boss, her coworkers and even the entire Federal Reserve System.

Vicky had a talent for finding bribable people and Bonnie had ‘Integrity for Sale, Discount For Cash’ hung around her neck. All she had to do for a quick $200 was tell her boss there was a customer outside that needed to do a signature card change and they couldn’t come in, some kind of handicap. The real handicap was her husband like to dress like a girl and Vicky was getting tired of it, so could Bonnie just come out and do the signature card change on Saturday? Bonnie could check the cards, the signature would be legitimate. She would be only guilty of good customer service. The money was to avoid the embarrassment.

Vicky was driving Erica in the Passat over to the bank, about an hour before closing which was 2 PM on Saturdays.

“Erica, don’t be difficult. If you put me on the account, I can take the half you promised me and you don’t have to go into the bank. We can’t take a chance on you being challenged. I think you’re beautiful but I’m afraid you could be detected and then we are both dead. My brother has eyes all over town. This way you stay safe in the car and I can get the money myself.” Vicky said, in a soothing yet dominant manner. Angel was very impressed, she was back at the top of her game.

Bonnie came out in the parking lot after telling her manager about the situation, got the addition form and witnessed the signature card, matched Eric’s signature to the original and told Vicky to follow her inside.

Vicky went in and did a withdrawal for Eric’s sum total wealth, about seven thousand dollars. Not the half he had promised. Bonnie was annoyed that she wanted it in two transactions of $3500.00 each. Vicky shook her head at the pitiful sum. Barely able to cover her costs.

When Vicky left, Bonnie’s boss came up and retrieved the account change form. He wanted to make sure it got handled quickly, It would be bad if the transactions were not valid because the signature authorization had not gone through.

Vicky handed the first transaction receipt to Erica when she got into the car.

“See, Erica, thank you for the loan. I’ll pay you back as soon as I return.” Vicky said, kissing Erica on the cheek.

Chapter 7: Hair Raising Experience

Vicky was embarrassed to be seen driving the Passat. She took solace in the fact that it would only be until tomorrow, then she would get rid of it for whatever pittance she could get. She smiled inwardly. Four more little stages for little Erica, time for the next one to start.

“Erica, I have a treat for you. Have you ever had your hair done in a salon? I think it would really be fun and help you pass for my girlfriend. Your hair is nice but I think Sandra could make it just so much more pretty.” Vicky cooed to Erica.

“I thought we were going back to the condo? You want me to go into a salon?” Angel injected the overall excitement poorly masked by trepidation and panic into Erica’s response.

“Don’t worry, Sandra does a number of men. She knows just what to do for girls like you. She’ll keep your little secret, just let her do what she wants.”

“You’ll be there with me, right?” Erica said plaintively.

“I’ll go in, sweetheart, but just for a while. I have to run some errands so I can leave on Sunday. You’ll be fine. Just keep your knees together, dear. Have I told you how precious and so very vulnerable you look in that dress? “ Vicky leaned over and stroked Erica’s derriere as she parked the car in front of the salon. She wondered how Erica would look after a few years of heavy hormones. Probably much better than her first girly boy, three years ago. He was having such a difficult time being a TS. His heart had never really been in it.

Sandra Brilling enjoyed her work. She had been doing hair for ten years and felt she deserved to be in better surroundings. Lately she had been building a sideline of men some of whom loved a little humiliation along with a wash and set. Not a large clientele, but one that paid triple for a little privacy and a certain controlled maliciousness, coupled with really excellent hair styling. She had created a number of styles which could easily convert from feminine to androgynous and was getting very popular with a certain community. She liked her boys, as she called them, and only gave them a difficult time if that’s what they asked for.

Victoria Prentille at first seemed like a wonderful new business ally to Sandra. She brought men in who clearly loved having Vicky tell them what to do, who were thrilled to have Sandra take their hair and make them as feminine as possible. By the fourth guy she had dragged in, Sandra was starting to worry. None of the other three ever came back, and she had done her best work. They had all just disappeared.

The fourth one was the nicest of the lot and she had heard a rumor that he had been arrested for some kind of break in or assault. Vicky was creeping her out. And most importantly, Sandra was apparently not good enough to do Vicky’s hair. She had heard Vicky used the salon at one of the hotels with that hack fruitcake who ran it. Sandra decided this one was going to be her last partnering deal with the big redhead.

Erica entered the salon hesitantly and swiftly walked down the rows of women and stylists to the rear where Vicky had said to go. Angel knew he needed to keep projecting utter panic even though he always wondered why men were supposed to be so afraid. The women were here about themselves, not to laugh at some guy getting his hair done. As if they cared. Angel imagined a pretty young woman, walking into a neighborhood barbershop, sitting down and asking for a buzz cut. The men would look up, have a puzzled look and then go back to arguing about sports. Why would women be different?

Vicky breezed into the private area Sandra had set up for her boys. All her other customers knew what she did back here and were mildly amused. Some were jealous of the way the boys looked when they came out.

“Sandra, this is Erica. She’s new to this. I would like you to help her with her look. Please give her your usual attention. “

Vicky leaned over and kissed Erica on the lips. “Just enjoy yourself, dear, don’t let these nasty women scare you. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Erica watched Vicky leave, a deer in the headlights look about him. Sandra came up, spun the chair and began the act.

“My my you are a pretty boy, aren’t you? I have all kinds of things we can do you. Would you like me to bring in the girls to watch?” Sandra said, using the lilting, mocking tone she had practiced.

Erica faded and Angel sat up in the chair. “Sandra, why don’t we plan on something nice? I have a few ideas. But first let’s talk. Would you like to tell me all about Vicky or would you like to have something unpleasant happen to you?”

Sandra went white and stepped back. Angel when he was cold and direct was a chilling sight, and an even more chilling feeling. It was like a puppy suddenly had morphed into a pit viper.

“Do you know Spider Robertson Sandra? He’s a particular friend of mine. He would be very upset if you did not choose to cooperate with me.” Angel continued. He wanted fear but also cooperation. No need to run up the casualties.

Sandra was shaken to her core. Spider Robertson was the one of the local street crime lords. He was just back from Lompoc prison. People made sure they stayed out of his business and left his friends alone. Claiming to be his friend falsely was also suicide.

Sandra told Angel the whole tale, the four victims, her concerns. Her new business.

“And what were you supposed to do with me, Sandy? Make me look silly?” Angel said, his voice softening. He was beginning to like the hairdresser.

“No! I was supposed to make you a blonde, Vicky always requested that. Sometimes I wondered if the boys really wanted that. The style was up to me. I was supposed to make you enjoy it, after I scared you a bit. I always give my boys my best, they’re willing to pay so much for it and are genuinely happy when I’m done.” Sandra said, her courage returning driven by the pride in her work.

“Well, Sandy, darling, forget the color, I like mine the way it is. Let’s talk style. I’m sure we can do something to challenge your skill. “

Angel and Sandy fell into a discussion of styles. They ended up with a variation on the one Angel had done coming into town. Sandy was a fan of the series too, and felt she could improve on Angel’s version. Angel gave her a cover story that he was allergic to dyes in case Vicky got upset. Sandy was more than happy to play along with Angel.

“You really look great in that dress, Angel. I take it this isn’t your first time dressed like that.”

Angel told Sandy a highly edited version of him story. He could see her getting angry.

“I wish those goddam bitches would leave people alone! How could they do that to kids? I’ve got no problem with if the guy wants to be bossed around, I know some of them get off on it. But to take advantage of it, to enjoy humiliating another person, that’s bullshit. I only gave them a bit and backed off if it made them uncomfortable. You can tell, you know.” Sandy said, angrily.

Two hours later, when Angel was admiring his hairstyle and Sandra was pleased with her work, he made her a promise.

“Sandy, after this is over, I think you will find your business with the boys will have a significant increase. And getting financing to expand will not be a problem. You do excellent work. Just make sure your customers are operating on their own free will and I see a great future for you.” Angel kissed her on the cheek and gave her two hundred dollars. He had kept an emergency packet under the seat of the car and was glad he could augment the money Vicky had given him for the appointment. Sandra let him use her office phone and promised to warn him if Vicky returned early. Angel let his cell phone recharge in the desk outlet.

When Vicky came back she was pleased with Erica’s giggling demeanor, all bubbly about the hairstyle, losing his fear of humiliation. He was becoming more comfortable as ‘one of the girls’. She grabbed Sandra aside and started to complain about the color, but Sandra explained the allergy and told her she was not going to risk a lawsuit for Vicky.

Vicky seemed mollified with the answer and Erica was acting so femme that she felt the plan was on track for the evening. The sun was going down and she had set up a catered dinner for two at the condo. Time for Eric’s last pleasant memory.

Chapter 8: Goodnight Sweet Princess

The evening was perfect. The balcony was lit with soft flames, the food was superb. The waitresses were pretty and fawned over Erica’s gown and hair. Vicky always felt her victims should have a last girlish evening, dressed to the nines, made to feel beautiful and their decision reinforced.

Erica was really more beautiful than any man she had ever seen. With his hair of soft floating curls, his silk gown, his mannerisms and bearing, he could have attracted any man he wanted. Vicky began to have some doubts about the next step.

Later, Erica had stimulated Vicky at her demand, driving her to a level of pleasure she had not experienced for some time. All with just a tongue.

The doubts increased but she quashed them. Her anger returned in a skin flush as she remembered how her husband had made her feel this way and then betrayed her. For one of these things. Erica was now an object, no longer a person to Vicky.

So the final toast began, and Vicky led Erica to believe that she was finally his. Real sex. She led him into the bedroom and watched him collapse from the drugs in his wine.

Vicky bound Erica to a chair with velvet cuffs. She lit a cigarette and began to pack her few belongings which were not already at the airport.

She had already sold the Passat at a used lot. Erica had signed over the registration to Vicky when she had been convinced that Vicky wanted no hassle if she got stopped by the police.

The Bug was used to people fearing him. His three hundred pounds were well allocated on his six foot five inch frame, covered with ballpoint pen prison tattoos. It seemed as if he had been the model for the badass biker or big gang member used in the movies, and had actually been asked to consult on one production. He always regretted missing that, but the arrest for armed robbery seemed to get in the way. His greasy black hair was held by a bandana and covered only a small part of his massive shoulders. He was a fixture on the street in town, careful these days to avoid a parole problem.

He had been skeptical when the redhead approached him, but she was vouched for by the Weasel, and the Weasel always knew a good con act. All he had to do was show up, look tough, growl a bit, scare a guy and get a blowjob. If the guy wanted more, do more. He got to use a condom. The Bug had made it through prison without getting AIDS and wasn’t going to take risks now. No big deal. An easy three hundred for an hours work. No risk, there was no crime other than a small chance of the guy beating him up. Vicky knew how to playfully challenge a guy like The Bug.

Chapter 9: Over The Edge, Beyond Redemption

Angel woke up feeling restrained. He looked around and realized he was restrained. Vicky was just entering the bedroom and it looked like all her personal items had been removed.

“Erica, I see you are back with us. Last night was so memorable, darling; I hope you treasure it for a long time.” Vicky was in a conservative suit. Her red hair looked great on the white jacket.

“Why am I tied up?”

“Your next to last lesson, Erica. You need to learn to please a man. And what a man have I got for you. Now don’t pretend you don’t want a man, girl, you can lie to yourself but not to your big sister. All you girly boys want a big strong man. Come in Bug.” Vicky was dripping pure evil with each word, as if she was possessed by her anger. Her eyes were staring past any object in the room.

Bug arrived, causing things to rattle on shelves just by walking. He was rippling his muscles and leering at Erica. Angel felt just how scary he looked, grinning, looking down on his small body, restrained, wearing a revealing gown. He understood the fear that was generated by Vicky’s scenario, the fear that drove men to do anything to avoid extreme pain and survive.

“Bug here is fresh from prison and got quite used to being serviced there, dearie. I felt someone so experienced could critique your technique. If you don’t make him happy, he’ll be very upset. I would hate to see that, you are so pretty. If you do give him pleasure, he’ll make you happy and pleasure you in return. Not the same way of course. I’m told he will use a condom, however, even though I swore you were clean.”

The Bug growled and laughed. It was frightening. Vicky undid Erica’s bonds. She pushed Erica to his knees in front of the giant.

“No! No! No!” Erica screamed. The Bug undid his pants and produced the intended object of Erica’s attentions.

“Now now, all girls have last minute jitters. Just do what you know you want to do, you little bitch. Do It!” Vicky was gone, over the edge, off into hell. Beyond any hope.

Chapter 10 Avenging Angel

Angel mentally pushed Erica aside. He looked up.

”Bug, I’ve never done this. Wouldn’t you like someone more experienced?” And with bigger tits?” Angel said, calmly.

“You mean the redhead? I like redheads.” Bug growled.

Vicky began to back away, but Bug was blocking the door. Angel got up and grabbed Vicky, firmly but not enough to hurt her.

“What are you doing? What ?” The look of sheer terror in Victoria’s eyes was just perfect. Angel felt gratified, in an almost sexual way.

“Nothing you didn’t have planned for me, Victoria dear.” Angel spoke in his lovers voice, soothingly right next her ear. He sat her down in the chair and fastened her arms in the restraints.

The Bug moved forward, still unzipped, still ready for release.

“I paid you, dammit. I’ll get to your parole officer and get you back in prison! Stop it! Right now! Make this thing let me go!” Vicky was getting hysterical.

Bug handed a piece of tape to Angel, who applied it slowly and carefully, caressing Vicky’s face as he applied the gag.

“Victoria, it’s important I get to talk now. You’ve had plenty of chances to show me you deserve better than what we’ll do to you. And you blew them all.
You stole my money, you burned my clothes, you sold my car and you hired Bug here to screw me, whether I wanted it or not. A word of advice, darling, not all guys want sex with other men. If they do, fine, but to force them? There’s a word for that. Rape. Can you blame me if I’m a little pissed right now?” Angel spoke, his voice in a soothing tone.

Vicky’s eyes went wider than he believed possible. She was absolutely certain she was about to get what she had inflicted on four other men. Her breathing became rapid, her face was in a rictus of pain.

Angel thought the imagination was quite often more grisly than the reality. He had learned that as a torture victim at age eight.

Bug approached Vicky. He was laughing the scariest laugh Angel had ever heard. The kind that makes you feared in prison.

“Ok Spider. I think she gets the point.” Angel said.

Bug, also known as Spider Robertson, rezipped his fly and stood behind Angel. The two were a marked contrast. Six five, three hundred pounds in denim and leather, five seven one hundred something (Angel never tells) in silk and perfume.

Angel continued talking.

“Vicky, this is Spider Robertson. When your last muscle man got arrested, Spider got word of your scam, since the guy worked for him. Spider didn’t like what he heard and told his parole officer about your game. The parole officer called some people whom you do not want to cross and they sent me.

“I was your chance at redemption and like I said, you blew it. We found your last victim still recovering from rectal rips and a mental mess. The other three weren’t any better.

“So now we have to decide what to do with you. We could have you raped, since you did promise Spider here some relief, but no, we don’t believe in that.

“We could have you killed. I’ve done that before. It is rather final.

“We could allow you to go after some restitution to your victims. So what’s it to be?”

Angel removed the tape. Victoria was eyeing him, attempting to figure the angles.

“What kind of restitution?” Vicky said. Angel admired her ability to recover and get on with it. She was a worthy adversary.

Angel explained. A lot. Most of what she had to be wire transferred right now. He handed her the cell phone, ringing her Grand Cayman bank. Vicky gave the codes, the amounts and the receiving account numbers.

Chapter 11: Sex And The Angel

“So I can go now? Just like that?” Vicky said.

“Oh yes. There is one more request and a few words of advice. Would you care to hear them?” Angel smiled.

“Why not.? Go ahead.” Vicky was respectful. She knew Angel had gotten her solidly this time. She had been sloppy and regarded him with a professional admiration.

“I think I saw some things in your closet in my size. I assume you won’t need them anymore?” Angel said. Vicky nodded.

“The warning is: Don’t do this again. Anywhere. The next time we won’t be elaborate, just final.

“And by the way, you shouldn’t commit bank fraud and grand theft auto so close together, now you have the FBI and the local police really mad. You’ll find my signature was quite invalid on the registration of the Passat, since I never owned it, and there seems to be no record of you ever sharing an account at the bank. The teller was quite motivated to not be prosecuted for conspiracy. The bank manger was quite willing to lose the whole thing. So you are on video, forging a withdrawal. I recommend you avoid the US for a while and you might find travel to be a bit problematic. Goodbye, Vicky. Don’t screw up again.”

Angel delivered the news, watching her face. Vicky was non responsive on the surface, but he could tell she was scared, frightened and ready to bolt. He and Spider watched Vicky run out the door.

“Do you think she’ll get out, Angel?” Spider asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.

“She’s smart. And despite being nearly broke she’ll be in Australia within a week. I will call our chapter over there. They’re new, and they need some practice. How’s your sister?” Angel asked.

“She’s fine, thanks to you. After you busted me and sent me up, I thought you would be the last person I could count on. I was a real scumbag then, too.

“She’s almost through school now and you’re invited to the graduation. She says you’ll know what she wants you to wear.” Spider hugged Angel, like a bear would hug a butterfly. “You need a ride, man? I’m being picked up by the boys. We can drop you off. “

Angel decided he liked the gown and grabbed a few items from the closet. The boys dropped him off at the original hotel. The valets were dumbfounded seeing the pretty young woman in the expensive gown emerge from the H2 full of gangbangers. Especially when they all got out and hugged her gently goodbye.

As he walked into the lobby he saw the concierge who had checked him in. She helped him carry the clothes up to his room, commented on his hair and gown and told him coming in after noon on Sunday must have meant an exciting Saturday night.

“No, just spent it with a few friends. I was a little tied up.” Angel said, wishing her goodbye at the door.

He turned and saw his favorite dress in the closet, back from the cleaners. He decided to be Carrie again, letting out a small giggle.

Chapter 12: Angels Fly

Flying in First Class, Angel found his seat next to a very attractive woman. She seemed to be remind him of Samantha from the show. Probably just projecting, he thought.

She commented on his Manolo Blahnik shoes. That opened a conversational floodgate. They exchanged partial stories, carefully edited the way you do on airplanes. Carolyn commented on Angel’s look. She found herself strangely drawn toward the brunette. There was just something about this person that was attractive and she never felt that way about women. Angel promised to call on her when he was in Denver the next time.

When Carolyn had gotten up to use the restroom, Angel sat back and closed his eyes for a moment. He thought the English cut gray suit would work when he called on Carolyn. His hands settled onto the fabric covering his thighs.

There was just something about a nice full skirt.

END