My very first Big Bust story was published in 2002, and products from the Big Bust shop have continued to feature in many of my stories ever since. Set in the fictional English seaside town of Seacombe, Big Busts products are considered state of the art by men who want to look like women, even when naked.

To celebrate Big Busts' tenth year, I have decided to republish all my Big Busts' stories which are not already on Big Closet, which I'll do at intervals throughout the year, starting with my very first Big Busts' story, explaining how the store started up. It was originally published under the authorship of Marianne Nettes, but rather than causing confusion, I have now switched to the name I have used since 2004.

It's worth saying that the vast majority of my stories are meant to be out and out fun (and I don't think there's enough of it on this site) often combined with mystery, sex and mayhem. Whether you're a new reader of my stories, or you have read them before, I hope you sit back and enjoy, without becoming too serious about it all.

BIG BUSTS
by Charlotte Dickles

CHAPTER 1 - BIG, BLACK AND BEAUTIFUL
=================================

Tony Phillips woke up feeling as if a brand new world had just started. He struggled to sit upright in the bed, a childish grin breaking out on his face as he stared over towards the dressing table. The woman smiling back at him in the mirror was fantastic — big, black and beautiful, and naked from the waist up, her lower half obscured by a white drape across her midriff.

There were a number of brightly coloured dresses hanging in the open wardrobe, but the simple white dress with the deep cleavage, which she had worn last night, was still lying on the floor where it had got strewn in the heat of the moment. God knows where his own clothes had ended up — at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less, for life ahead was far too exciting to be bothered about a trivial detail like trousers. With a bit of luck, he wasn’t going to need them for ages.

He blew her a kiss, and the woman in the mirror returned it with an even bigger smile, her breasts giving a pleasant jiggle, as she moved.

She said, ‘I’ve finished in the bathroom, if you want to use it.’

‘I think I’d rather lie here and wait for you to come back to bed.’

‘Uh-uh. Sorry baby. Business calls — I have to go across the water and see the landlord about extending the lease; then on to my equipment supplier. It’s almost nine am. Aren’t you going in to your bank?’

‘Nine! Hell, I must have slept like a log after you finished with me, whatever time that was.’

They both smiled at shared memories.

‘We could both play hooky,’ Tony suggested. He didn’t think he’d ever played hooky in his life, before, and here he was, suggesting that the two of them spend the day screwing. Disgraceful!

‘Not for me. I’ve got too many things to do. You can stay here if you want, but you’ll have to play with yourself. Sorry.’

Tony shrugged, philosophically. There’d be other times. ‘Shucks. I guess I’ll have to take a shower and go into work, then.’

‘OK.’ She pulled some white knickers from a drawer and slipped them on. From the same drawer she took a white bra and, leaning forward, lowered those fabulous breasts into it, then fastened the clasp behind her back.

She looked at him and gave a complicit smile as she said, ‘Thanks for a great night, and thanks for organising the loan, as well.’

‘We bank managers are here to serve our customers.’

But never before in that way. Not with him, anyway.

Since she was rapidly becoming respectably dressed — if the bright red dress she was slipping into could ever be classed as respectable — Tony decided he had better have a shower, and make his first efforts towards getting into work. He was actually singing in the bath (which he hadn’t done since he was seventeen) when she popped her head round the door and announced she was going.

‘How are you going to get there?’ he asked. They had travelled in his car, last night.

‘I’ll hitch,’ she said, and added with a grin, ‘Hitch up my skirt. I’ll soon get a lift that way.’

Tony had a sudden pang of jealousy, that she should flaunt herself like that, but she had gone before he could offer her a lift. It wasn’t too far to walk, anyway, and at that time of day, it would probably take him as long to drive through the rush hour traffic.

As it happened, Tony wasn’t more than thirty minutes late, and he concocted some trivial excuse to satisfy his secretary, Val, and the band of female cashiers who mothered him like broody hens. Confessing to spending the previous night in bed with a female customer would probably have pleasantly surprised most of them. But if he’d told anyone that he’d spent it with that young, black sex-bomb who, yesterday afternoon, had walked into his branch of Barkwest Bank asking for a business loan, they would have been shocked to the core, and never again been able to look him in the eye.

It was probably because of his middle-age and very respectability, that Val suggested that he, rather than his junior manager Nick Brown, should interview Ms Carmine Ross. Val had given Tony the excuse that Nick was running late with his previous appointment, but most likely she had taken one look at Carmine and decided she’d have Nick’s trousers off him before they even got the office door closed.

Carmine was twenty-three years old, big boned and tall — in her heels she loomed over Tony. She had a firm, confident grip as they shook hands, and Tony tried hard to look her in the eye, rather than down at the incredible cleavage revealed by that plunging V-neck dress. The dress was white, and made of material so light it had floated out as she walked towards him. On her feet, she had white, high-heeled sandals, with thin straps which wound above her ankles. She would have looked completely at home in one of the discos on Seacombe’s Sunset Strip — but in the bank, the appearance of Lucifer himself could not have more shocked Tony’s staff.

She looked at him, looking at her, and said with a directness, which both surprised and delighted him: ‘I guess I’ve kind of blown it with the dress, haven’t I? I thought I’m going to come in here and knock ‘em out, and er...’ she gave him a little girl look, ‘I guess I have.’

He smiled. ‘If you mean, “Have you totally traumatized all the female staff in my bank”, then the answer is “Probably”. If on the other hand you mean: “Have you brightened up an otherwise dull afternoon, for one middle-aged bloke who is absolutely enthralled by the sight of a really pretty girl?” then the answer is definitely “You bet!”.’

Tony had never seen so many shiny white teeth as was displayed by her grin. She wrinkled her nose in a quite appealing way: ‘Jeez. Thanks for making me feel OK. I felt like shit when I saw how your secretary looked at me, as though I was a tart on the game.’

‘I apologise on behalf of the bank. She shouldn’t have looked at you like that. Now, what can I do for you?’

She wanted a business loan to start up a sculptor business in the old town. She’d been renting a shop for a few weeks, making busts for visiting tourists. She’d taken enough business to make her believe she could earn a living out of it, but she needed to take out a lease on the shop, and buy some better equipment. Could the bank lend her the money?

To be honest, Tony wasn’t over enthusiastic. The old town in Seacombe, originally based around the fishing port, had gone through one bad patch after another, after decades of over fishing had totally depleted the sea of life, and the package holiday industry depleted the town of tourists. Many British seaside towns were in the same position as Seacombe — they survived on day trippers, most of whom were more interested in the amount of alcohol they could consume, rather than a visit to a sculptor.

‘Doesn’t it take you a long time to make a bust of someone? Don’t you have to charge a lot of money?’

Another toothy grin, but this time with a knowing look in her eyes, as though she had expected him to ask that question, and had the answer ready.

‘Simply ages.’ A pause, for effect, then she added, ‘...if you do it the conventional way. But I use modern technology. A few digital photographs, which I feed into my computer, and I then produce a three dimensional digital image of the person. I’ve got a peripheral on the computer, which cuts out the two halves of a cast for the bust. Pour in the moulding material, and bingo! Less than half an hour’s work, and less than one-day elapsed time, and you have a perfect replica. I’ve been charging  £25 each, and they’ve been selling like hot cakes.’

She produced a folder and clumsily withdrew a spreadsheet, which she passed across to him.

‘I need to buy some better equipment, and materials, and take out a lease on the studio, but I’ve done a discounted cash flow which shows I’m well in profit, even if I only get one third of the trade I’ve been doing these last three weeks.’

She blushed suddenly, as though embarrassed at airing words which she had not used before. Tony smiled back at her; keen to show she had not been talking rubbish. Unless, of course, it was all rubbish. Suppose she didn’t have a shop with equipment to make busts — she was simply trying to con money out of the bank. It had done before, sometimes by people as appealing as Carmine — in fact, usually by people as appealing as Carmine.

The spreadsheet looked as good as she had indicated. If she was telling the truth, he’d be happy to advance a loan. After all, she was hardly asking for a large amount, but... was she telling the truth, or was it a con?

There were two ways of searching out that kind of problem — one was to look at the books, but with a business that had only been going for a few weeks, they were meaningless. A much better way was to visit the business at work, and make certain that everything stacked up with what she claimed.

‘That sounds fascinating. If your figures are as good as this spreadsheet shows, I think we’ll be able to arrange a loan, but the bank will need to visit your business and satisfy itself. When could we arrange that for?’

‘The sooner, the better. You can come now, if you like.’

Tony hesitated. Normally, he’d have sent Nick out on this kind of visit, but why should he have all the fun? He had no further appointments that afternoon. And a snap visit like this ensured there was no chance to prepare in advance.

He made up his mind. ‘Why not? I’ll just go and tell my secretary where I’m going, and then we can drive out there.’

When Tony told Val where he was off to, she replied, ‘Can you hang on for a few minutes? I’ve sent Jean out for some extra strength condoms. She’ll be back soon.’

It was a measure of the trust that she had in him that made the joke possible. Had she the slightest suspicion of how things would turn out, she would never have dared to make such a comment. Tony declined her offer with a grin, and led Carmine out to the staff car park, using the steeply climbing passageway at the side of the bank.

She gave a squeal of delight when she saw his company Jaguar. ‘Sh-i-t! Is this really your car? It’s fantastic. Do I get to ride up front, or does the little black girl have to get in the boot?’

‘Nothing as luxurious as the boot, I’m afraid. You have to run behind.’ Tony was shocked by his own words. They’d been meant as a joke, but taken the wrong way, they could have been deeply offensive, and if she made a complaint... He shuddered at the thought.

Fortunately she was laughing, and telling him how terrified she had been at the thought of going into the bank and asking a load of stuffy, old, farts to part with such a huge amount of money. He breathed a sigh of relief and concentrated upon navigating the car through the start of the afternoon rush hour traffic, towards the bridge to the old town.

Seacombe is in two parts, separated by the river. Barkwest Bank was in the new town, which although built on the steep sides of the river valley, had several straight and reasonably level main roads, which ran along the contours. Unfortunately, this meant that all the roads and alleyways at right angles to them sloped steeply, and even in his smart new Jaguar, Tony always had a terror that his brakes would fail as he approached the river, and he would plunge into the cold water, and be immediately swept out to sea.

As usual, Tony drove without incident across the lift bridge, which joined the new and old towns. On the other side of the river, the old town was fairly flat, but with a maze of twisty little roads and passages housing tiny, fishermen’s cottages, which had mostly been converted into bed and breakfast houses. But the package holiday trade had taken its effect, and local holiday businesses had slumped, leaving many houses boarded up and derelict.

He was pleased that Carmine directed him to the area of the old town closest to the beach, where a number of tourist and antique shops, and small art galleries, still survived. To get to her shop, they had to leave the car in a public car park, and walk the last few yards along what had once been a narrow road, and was now a pedestrian passage.

The shop had a narrow frontage with living accommodation above, but it looked attractive, and there was a steady stream of people browsing the shops on either side of the passage. Tony noticed that even the name above the shop window, Big Busts, created a little stir of interest, especially amongst the men.

Tony was impressed with Carmine’s business. She showed him around, gaining confidence now she was on her own ground and in her specific field of expertise. As they’d entered the shop, she’d turned the sign on the door from CLOSED to OPEN, and within a few minutes a family of three walked in and placed an order. The ten-year-old child sat on a swivel chair in front of the camera whilst Carmine took the photographs, turning the chair through forty-five degrees after each photograph. Afterwards, the parents happily paid the deposit; Carmine gave them a receipt and told them when it would be ready for collection.

Whilst that was going on Tony looked through the books, and quickly made up his mind. She had good business sense and a sellable product.

‘You’ve got your loan,’ he told her when the three had left. ‘You’re in business.’

‘Oh fantastic,’ she cried. ‘You superhero.’ And she clasped him round the shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek.

The launching of an Apollo rocket may be more spectacular, but for Tony, nothing could have sent such a sudden surge of adrenaline through his body, as those two incredible tits pushing into his chest. She seemed totally unaware of his reaction — fortunately, he was half turned away from her, so she didn’t feel his penis abruptly turn into an iron rod.

‘I’m going to buy you a drink to say thank you,’ she said.

‘You’re a customer of the bank, now,’ Tony said, ‘so the bank can foot the bill. And let’s make it a meal instead.’

********************

Carmine was the most fantastic fuck of his life. She was so much younger than him, yet how was it that she had so much more experience? She rode him like a champion jockey on a steeplechase, letting him have his head for a time, but then calling him in check — urging him on to buck harder, then calming him down again — trotting, cantering, and mad galloping, but never letting him onto the winning straight until she’d enjoyed her ride to the full.

And God, did she enjoy riding! She had one superb climax after another. Surely, Tony thought, no man had ever before given her such a tremendous fucking. And unusually for him, he was standing proud again, just a few minutes after each of his orgasms, ready for his next unbelievable ride of a lifetime.

He lost count of how many times they fucked that night. He could remember, sometime after midnight, they sat naked in her shop drinking a bottle of red wine, on view to any passers by who might look into her shop window. Fortunately, the passage outside was lit, and they were in the dark, but they both found the risk so erotic that he fucked her on the shop counter, as they finished off the bottle of wine.

Afterwards, Carmine pulled aside the swivel chair she had used to photograph the child, and put a low wooden turnstile in its place. She ordered him to stand on it, then, after using her lips to bring his cock to another massive erection, swivelled the turnstile around as she took photographs of him from every angle. Had he not been drunk with both her beauty, and the alcohol he’d consumed over the evening, his natural caution would have prevented him getting into a position so open to compromise, but right at that moment, he didn’t care a damn. So, the local bank manager is photographed with an erection to be proud of — so what?

They went upstairs and continued their night of lust. At about four am, as Tony finally dropped off to sleep, he knew he had met the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

********************

‘But why, Carmine? Why can’t we meet up again?’ Tony knew that he was whining, but over the phone, her rejection had sounded petulant.

‘Because I don’t want to.’

‘We had a fantastic time on Monday night. You enjoyed it too.’

‘Course I did. Look,’ she seemed to struggle to find the right words, ‘You gave me the loan, we had a nice meal, you fancied me like mad, and I thought you deserved a little thank you present. We had a great time, but that doesn’t mean I want to repeat it every night for the rest of my life.’

‘No one’s talking about the rest of our lives, only about continuing something which worked so well the first time.’

‘I saw the look on your face yesterday morning as I was leaving. That look said “long term commitment, move in together, and perhaps in time, wedding bells and the patter of little feet”.’

‘No way!’ he denied, but he knew that she knew he was lying, so he changed tack. ‘Is that so bad?’

‘Not if the two people are right for each other, but we’re not.’

‘But we are...’

‘You’re white, I’m black. You’re rich, I’m poor. You’re middle-class, I’m working class. You’re respected in high society, I’m not. You go to concerts at the Art Society, I go to black raves...’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Doesn’t it? Perhaps that’s because you think it will all be one way. You take me into your nice, four bedroom house, in a respectable part of Seacombe, and buy me wonderful clothes and diamond tiaras. You take me to your white, middle-class, cocktail parties and show me off to your friends. And all the women think how lucky I am to be taken in by you, and all the men think how lucky you are to pull such a sexy girl. Is that what you’re thinking?’

‘Well, I...’ That was exactly what Tony was thinking, but it didn’t seem diplomatic to admit it.

‘Well how about if it was the other way round. If you came and lived with my parents, in their damp, cramped little tenement, with the smell of curry coming up from the Indian restaurant in the basement. Or went to events with my black friends, who all look at you and call you a white honky. How about that?’

‘That’s OK. I wouldn’t mind.’ Would he?

But Carmine was in full flow, and nothing was going to stop her. ‘You don’t realise what it’s like to be poor, or black, or even a woman. When you’re all three, you see the discrimination — you see people openly despising you. It would be different if the boot was on the other foot.’

‘Carmine!’ Tony shouted down the phone and managed to silence her for a second. ‘I’m not asking you to marry me. I only want to take you out and get to know you better. And if you’d prefer to do it in places where you feel at home, then that’s fine with me. I don’t mind if the boot is on the other foot.’

‘You don’t?’ She sounded surprised, and was quiet for a minute, then added, ‘You wouldn’t mind?’

‘No!’

‘OK. Come round to the shop about eight, and I’ll cook a meal for you.’

CHAPTER 2 - DINNER AT EIGHT
==========================

She looked superb when Tony got round there, in a bright yellow dress, with matching yellow, high-heeled pumps. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and whilst she was putting the finishing touches to a curry, she got him to open the bottle of wine he’d brought with him.

They chatted about her business, and the progress she was making with developing it, with the money from the loan. As her bank manager, Tony should have been more than delighted at her business prowess, but his thoughts kept drifting to other things.

She never warned Tony about the curry. One moment, he was tasting the subtle flavours as the first mouthful went sinking down his throat, the next a napalm bomb detonated somewhere inside him. He downed his glass of wine, then hurriedly refilled it and drank that as well.

‘It’s not too hot for you, is it?’ She was smiling sweetly at him. She seemed to think his discomfort extremely amusing. ‘Only, it’s just the way me and my mates like it, and you said you wanted to be treated as one of them.’ She paused, waiting for him to complain.

Fortunately, for a few seconds, his voice was beyond speech, but after another glass of wine, he had to see the funny side. He grinned back at her, and said in a hoarse whisper, which was all he could manage, ‘Touché.’

It was the right reaction, her face lit up again, showing every one of her teeth, but if he hoped that she’d remove the bowl of curry in front of him and replace it with another dish which she’d been hiding until now, he was disappointed. He hesitated, and then took another mouthful, better prepared this time.

Actually, the more Tony ate, the better that curry got, even though his face went the colour of beetroot and the sweat literally dripped off him. Carmine opened another bottle of wine to feed his thirst, and he drank most of the contents of the two bottles before they’d finished.

‘I made you a little present,’ she said.

She reached behind the curtain and withdrew a bronze statue about twelve inches high. It was of a naked man with an enormous erection that shot up to a point level with the man’s nipples.

‘Er, that’s for me?’ he queried, looking embarrassed.

‘You don’t recognise it, do you?’

Tony looked more closely at it, trying to avoid staring at the penis, a horrible thought looming in his head.

‘It’s me!’ he gasped. ‘But... but I don’t look like that.’ He pointed at the massive erection.

‘That’s the advantage of a computer,’ she said. ‘I can stretch reality. You know — morph it. Huge cock, slim waist, big tits — you name it, I can do it.’

‘Wow!’ The implications for her business hit him. ‘You mean you can make statues of people, which improve on their good features and minimise their bad ones?’

She nodded.

‘Can I become your partner?’

‘We’ve talked about that already, and the answer’s “No Way!”.’

That had been another type of partnership, Tony thought, but it didn’t seem worth pointing it out. He picked the statue up, and remarked how light it was.

‘It’s not really bronze at all,’ she said. ‘Simply a plastic that looks similar. It’s much easier to mould than having to work with molten metal. I made this statue with my existing kit. Come downstairs and see what I can do, now I have the extra gear.’

She led the way to her workshop at the rear of the shop. She flicked on the light, and Tony jumped in fright. There was a naked man in there, with a huge erection. In fact, not just any man, it was...

‘It’s me, again!’ He stared at it with horrible fascination. It was a life-sized copy of the bronze she had just shown him, except it was in a material the colour of his own skin.

‘The full size computer driven cutting machine was delivered this morning. You’ll be pleased to know that yours was the very first mould I cut on it.’

‘It’s fantastic.’ It was too. He held his hand next to the hand of the statue. Only the fact that the one had hair differentiated the two.

‘I had to use a wig for the hair on your head,’ she said. ‘But other than that, it’s all exactly how it came out of the mould.’

‘Carmine, your business is going to turn into a goldmine,’ he said.

‘Hope so.’

She seemed to suddenly lose interest in her business, and changed the subject.

‘Did you mean what you said, this morning, about being happy if the boot was on the other foot, and wanting to live in my world?’

He nodded. ‘Of course. I love being with you. I want to be as close to you as I can.’

‘That’s good, because I have a test for you to prove it.’

Tony had a sudden foreboding. ‘What type of test?’

She walked over to one of the large drawers set underneath the workbench, and pulled one open. ‘I can use all kinds of materials in the mould,’ she said. ‘This one is made of black latex.’

She withdrew something black from the drawer. It wasn’t a statue, at all — more like a diver’s wetsuit, flopping over her arms.

‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘It’s not a statue.’

‘It’s actually a reproduction of me,’ she said. ‘But by positioning another statue in the centre of the mould, before I pour in the latex, I effectively get a bodysuit, made to fit over the original statue.’

Tony was feeling incredibly dense. Carmine was obviously leading up to something, but he couldn’t work out what. ‘But why would you want to put a latex bodysuit over a statue,’ he asked. ‘Why not simply mould your body in the same way you moulded mine?’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘I only used the statue to produce the bodysuit. It’s made to fit on you, of course.’

******************

Tony should have been appalled. If he’d understood what she’d said, the bodysuit would fit on him, and make him look exactly like Carmine. A big, black woman with breasts the size of melons. How could he, a heterosexual male even contemplate donning the suit? How come he was staring fascinated by it, wondering just exactly what it would feel like to turn into a beautiful black woman?

Their telephone conversation earlier that day had echoed through his mind all afternoon. Tony had been poor in his younger days, but he certainly didn’t know what it was like to be black or female, and he had difficulty imagining it. It was easy enough to say he could ignore discrimination when he came across it, but could he?

Then there was the sexual element. Tony thought Carmine had the most beautiful body he had ever seen. He’d been dreaming of being close to her for the last two days — being able to touch her cheek, squeeze a breast, or stroke her thigh. In that suit, he’d be able to do that whenever he felt like it. Would it make a difference that he would be doing it to himself? He wanted to find out.

Carmine had been watching him whilst the thoughts whizzed through his mind. ‘Well?’ she said.

‘It would be interesting to try it on — see how well it fits.’

She smiled. ‘You’ve passed the first test. I thought you’d say “No”, out of hand.’

‘So did I,’ he said.

**************************

The suit was in two parts. She handed him a pair of leggings, with built in feet and toes. The latex was incredibly thin from the toes up to above the knee, but then it started to thicken on the outside of the thigh, right up to the buttocks and hips, where it was almost two inches thick.

‘I told a little lie when I said it would make you look exactly like me,’ she said. ‘The problem is your shoulders are much broader than mine, so I’ve had to make a corresponding increase in the width of the hips to balance it out. It will also compensate for the size of your rather large waist, so overall you should look more or less in the same proportion as me.’

It was a valid point and Tony didn’t argue — not until he’d pulled the leggings up to his waist, anyway, and the latex squeezed his stomach down to an impossibly small size.

‘Don’t be such a baby,’ she said in response to his gasps. ‘It’s one of the features of being a woman you will just have to get used to. Women have to suffer to make their figures look good. So stop complaining.’

She’d left a small slit in the groin of the leggings for his cock to poke through, and after he’d pushed it through, the tight constriction gave him an instant erection.

‘That doesn’t look very ladylike,’ he said. ‘What am I going to do with that?’

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a special way of dealing with large cocks.’

He smiled. He’d hoped she was going to say that. He was beginning to enjoy this more and more.

The other part of the bodysuit was like a leotard top, with built in arms and hands, and a head mask. It was very difficult getting the thing over his head, particularly as he couldn’t breathe or see, but between the two of them, they managed to get it in position, and pull it down over the top of the leggings. There was a fastening between the legs, and they both looked down at his purple cock, still throbbing after forcing its way through the small slit at the groin.

‘I said I had a way of dealing with that,’ she said, and she brought her hand smartly down and gave it a terrible slap. Tony howled with pain, but her action had worked. His cock had shrivelled to the size of his little toe, and was clearly trying to climb back inside his body, before it received another slap.

Carmine bent down and fiddled around with it in a most uncomfortable way for a few seconds. Then it was over, and she was fastening the two halves of the leotard between his legs. She stood up, and critically stared at him.

‘That’s better, now let’s adjust it on your face a little.’

She had to stretch and pull it quite a bit, so it fitted around his eyelids, and his mouth, but eventually, she was satisfied.

‘One final thing left to do,’ she said, and she reached down and pulled a black wig from the drawer, and flipped it over his head.

She stood back and admired her work. ‘Hmm, not bad,’ she said. There’s a mirror next door. Why don’t you go and admire yourself?’

The first problem Tony discovered about being black is that in dull light, you can’t see yourself properly in a mirror. He flicked the light switch and then gulped with joy. The woman who stood in front of him wasn’t quite the same as Carmine — certainly broader in hip and waist, but she had those same tremendous breasts and her face was almost identical.

He swivelled in front of the mirror, turning first one way, and then the other. He looked pretty good. He stepped back. His breasts gave a delicious quiver as he moved, so he stepped forward again — another quiver. He shrugged his shoulders — a jelly-like wobble. He swung his shoulders violently left and right, and his tits went swinging vigorously to the left then the right, then the left and right again, before they settled into their natural place — on the front of his body.

‘Fucking hell!’ said a voice outside. Tony turned towards the shop window. There were at least a dozen men staring in at him.

************

‘I want you to step out of the shop into the passageway.’

A surge of panic hit him. What the hell was he thinking of? He could imagine the newspaper headlines, ‘Bank manager exposed in public.’

‘No way! You saw those men gawping at me just now.’

‘But that was because they saw a pretty woman standing stark naked in the shop with the light on. You have clothes on now.’

After he’d leapt back into the workshop, she had laughed at his panic, and taken him upstairs to get dressed. She’d offered him the choice of her wardrobe, but for him there was no hesitation. He wanted to wear the dress, which she’d been wearing on Monday, when she walked into the bank, and stunned him and everyone else. It was a good choice, for the full skirt hid the extra inches on his hips. When he looked in the bedroom mirror, he could have been the twin of the woman who had come into his bank on Monday.

He was grinning at himself as he turned in front of the mirror, this time with only Carmine as the audience, but that was when Carmine had uttered the words, which had thrown him into panic. But if he didn’t go outside, how else would he experience what it was really like to be a black woman? He would only have to step outside, walk a few paces up and down and quickly dart back into the shop if there was a danger of being discovered.

‘I’ll come with you,’ she said. ‘So I can do the talking, if necessary.’

She led him by the hand back down the stairs, through the shop and out into the passage. Fortunately, Tony’s crowd of admirers appeared to have dispersed, and there were only one or two people walking along the lane. The women hardly appeared to notice him, whereas the men gave him the kind of glance that men normally give to gorgeous women, which sent the adrenaline surging through Tony’s blood.

‘Keep your footsteps small,’ she whispered. ‘One foot in front of the other. Chin up, shoulders back, bum out, tummy in...’

And so they proceeded down the lane, turning left at the end, walking a short distance along the road, than making another left down another pedestrian passage, and finally completing a full circle to return to her shop. As they turned the final corner, Tony noticed a policeman standing in a shop doorway directly in front of them. There was nothing for it but to carry on as though they hadn’t a care in the world, and as they walked past, Carmine smiled at the policeman and gave him a wink. She appeared quite laid back, but Tony’s heart was banging in his ears. It got even louder when they got to Big Busts.

‘Oh dear,’ Carmine said. ‘I think I’ve left my keys inside.’

‘What!’ Tony’s hoarse whisper was almost a shout. They were locked out! He’d be discovered and ridiculed. The newspaper headlines were already being written... He glanced over his shoulder. The policeman had been watching their progress up the passageway, and now he left his doorway, and started to walk towards them.

Carmine’s teeth suddenly glowed in the darkness. ‘Only joking,’ she said, and she fiddled with the door, and suddenly it was open and she disappeared inside. Tony tottered after her, quivering with fright — or was it excitement?

‘Are you the owner of this business?’ The policeman’s voice cut through Tony’s short-lived jubilation.

‘Yes.’ Carmine was totally composed — and why shouldn’t she be. She stepped between Tony and the policeman, and added, ‘Why? Is there a problem?’

‘I didn’t see you use a key to open the door.’ The policeman was suspicious, but thank God, it wasn’t about Tony’s sex or style of dress.

‘I left the keys inside the shop. I used this instead.’ Tony almost had a heart attack when she gaily waved her credit card at the policeman — and not even any old credit card, but one of his own bank’s credit cards.

‘So how do I know you’re not breaking into the place?’ Even the policeman couldn’t believe that a thief would be so stupid.

Carmine turned towards Tony. ‘Could you get the lease, please, and show it to the nice policeman. It’s in the bottom drawer behind the counter.’

Aware of four eyes scrutinising his walk, Tony tottered behind the counter, bent down and found the document. But neither the policeman nor Carmine had moved, and he had to totter back to the position where he could pass it to her. She took it from him, and passed it onto the policeman.

‘This should satisfy you.’

He took the thick bundle of pages of small print and perused it.

‘How do I know that you are the person whose name is on this lease?’ He read the name off it, ‘Ms Carmine Ross.’

‘Why,’ she said with a huge grin on her face, ‘here’s my credit card.’

**********

When he had gone, Tony breathed a huge sigh of relief. ‘My God. That was close. What rotten luck to have forgotten to take your keys.’

‘It wasn’t bad luck. I don’t have a set of keys.’

‘No keys! Why not? How have you been getting into the shop?’

‘I’ve used my credit card, each time. It’s not a very secure shop.’

‘But why haven’t you got the keys from the landlord?’

‘We still haven’t finally agreed the terms of the lease. He’s asking far too much money for this dump. I’m slowly bargaining him down.’

‘But when you rented the shop, he must have given you the keys. And you just showed that policeman a copy of the lease.’

‘Ah well...’ Carmine paused for a second, before adding, ‘I didn’t actually formally rent the shop. It’s been empty for months, and the door wasn’t very secure, so I’ve just been... using the space. You know, sort of squatting.’

Tony was horrified. ‘But squatting only applies to living accommodation — not business premises. What about that lease?’

‘I got it from the stationers around the corner. Filled in the blanks and got one of my mates to sign it. It certainly looks official enough to fool the fuzz, as you can see. It also allowed me to get the electricity connected.’

‘Oh my God!’ Tony put his elbows on the counter and dropped his head into his hands. ‘I can’t believe what you’ve just done to me. You’ve not only involved the bank in a fraudulent deal, dressed me up as a woman and paraded me in front of the town, you’ve knowingly presented false documents to the police with me as a witness.’ Carmine was silent. ‘Well, what do you say?’

‘I say...’ and she bent her head down so it was level with his, ‘that you make one hell of a sexy woman.’ And her tongue slipped between his lips, and started to play games with his own tongue.

****************

Tony woke up feeling as if a brand new world had just started. He struggled to sit upright in the bed, a childish grin breaking out on his face as he stared over towards the dressing table. The woman smiling back at him in the mirror was fantastic — big, black and beautiful, and naked from the waist up, her lower half obscured by a white drape across her midriff.

He could see a number of brightly coloured dresses hanging in the open wardrobe, but the simple white dress with the deep cleavage she had worn last night was still lying on the floor where it had got strewn in the heat of the moment. God knows where his own clothes had ended up — at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less, for life ahead was far too exciting to be bothered about a trivial detail like trousers. With a bit of luck, he wasn’t going to need them for ages.

He blew her a kiss, and the woman in the mirror returned it with an even bigger smile, her breasts giving a pleasant jiggle, as she moved. He gave another shake of his shoulders so he could watch the effect upon her breasts in the mirror.

The previous evening after their first lovers’ tiff was abruptly brought to an end, Carmine and he had almost run upstairs to the bedroom, and pulled off each other’s clothes. Then they’d made love like lesbians — kissing, stroking, and squeezing, before getting into a 69 position — giving each other long strokes of the tongue on their most sensitive of spots. They both came countless times, but Tony’s orgasms were very different from those he’d experienced on Monday, or for that matter, ever before. Gone was the violent thrusting and jerking which culminated in squirting semen as far as he could inside his partner — this was a sweetness that filled him from head to toe and made him softly gasp with pleasure, and which went on for minute after wonderful minute.

Then he would be returning the favour to her, bringing her to blissful climax. And so they continued through into the small hours of the morning, when they’d fallen to sleep in each other’s arms. There was no sign of her now, although he could hear movements down below as she prepared the shop for its normal ten am opening.

Jesus Christ! He was late for work. Again! Tony shot out of bed and frantically tried to undo the bodysuit fastening between his legs. He couldn’t even find the catch!

‘Carmine! Carmine!’ He shouted down to her, and when she didn’t respond, went dashing downstairs.

‘Carmine, have you seen the time?’ He stood at the bottom of the stairs, and mindful of his public display yesterday evening, kept well out of view of the shop window.

‘That’s alright,’ she said. ‘It’s still a few minutes before we open, and I can manage on my own for a while, until trade builds up. Take your time.’

‘What are you on about? I’m talking about the bank, not the shop. How do I get the bodysuit off? I can’t find the catch.’

‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘We agreed. You’re in my world now — not a bank manager’s world. You’re working for me in the shop for the rest of this week.’

‘But I can’t. What about my bank?’

‘It’s OK. I telephoned them and told them you had flu, and wouldn’t be in for the rest of this week. After all, it was you who suggested we play hooky on Tuesday morning.’

‘But who did you say you were?’

‘Why I gave them my name, of course. I had to remind your secretary who I was — that I’d been in the bank on Monday afternoon — but then she remembered me quite distinctly.’ She looked at his face, and added, ‘Why? Is there a problem with telling them you’ve been sleeping with a black woman?’

CHAPTER 3 - GIRLS NIGHT OUT
==========================

Tony had never realised how much pleasure working in a shop could be. In his previous life, he imagined it must be quite boring, standing around waiting for customers to come in, then having to be nice to them, even if they were extremely rude.

But in Big Busts, it was all so interesting, and there was simply so much to do. Carmine had a long list of outstanding orders, and they had to work non-stop to meet her promised delivery times. Customers had been continually popping in — some just to make enquiries, but a number placed orders and had their photographs taken, whilst others collected their orders.

Tony — or Toni, as Carmine had now named him — had been incredibly nervous at first, about dealing with customers, or more accurately, about speaking to them.

‘They’ll realise I’m a man as soon as I open my mouth,’ Toni said.

‘Course they won’t,’ she replied. ‘OK, most women have higher pitched voices than you, but there are many who have quite deep voices. And remember that the way that you talk is far more important than the pitch. Women put much more animation into their speech. Anyway, looking like you do, there’s no way anyone could possibly question your sex.’

It was true that, with the dress Carmine had selected as the shop’s uniform, it was impossible to believe that people might think Toni was a man. A white, cotton smock dress with puffy sleeves, and a deep square neckline which allowed a breathtaking view of their ‘Big Busts’, pushed up by the best that Gossard could provide. A lace up leather bodice pulled in their waists, but their hips and buttocks swelled out gracefully beneath. A matching smock cap and little, spike-heeled booties completed the outfit.

‘Remember, men are generally not interested in purchasing head and shoulder busts of their loved ones. But show them another type of bust, and they’ll agree to a purchase without question, especially if it means they have an excuse to come back the next day to collect it.’

She was right. Toni had no end of interest in her tits, and she had to admit, it felt good, being gawked at by every bloke who came in. It wasn’t even as though it was difficult to be pleasant to people. They were mostly on holiday, so they tended to be in a good mood — the blokes all had their eyeballs popping out, and the women were generally agreeable anyway. For the first time ever, Toni regretted he had spent his life developing a career in banking, when he could have been doing something so much more interesting.

That Thursday, they worked all through the day with hardly a break, until they shut up shop late in the evening. Toni was far more tired than Carmine, who had got used to the routine over the last few weeks, and they barely had the strength for one quickie, when they finally fell into bed.

Friday was even more frantic. Two families had come in shortly after they had opened, and explained they were on a day trip and their coach left that evening. Could they take delivery of their busts before they left, they asked. Within fifteen minutes of accepting their orders, it appeared that every other occupant of the coach came in with the same request. Carmine had to do some frenzied calculations, working out how she could break the jobs into batches, and how long each batch would take. But finally, she accepted every one of the orders, and the two of them were working flat out until the last order was collected only a few minutes before their coach departed at eleven pm.

Even then, they had to get on with the back orders, which were being picked up on Saturday morning. They finally got to bed about one am, too tired to even give each other more than a little cuddle before they fell asleep.

Saturday morning, they had to get up at six am to remove the casts from the moulds, and clean them up ready for collection. By nine-thirty, they had them all completed and ready for business to open at ten, and they even had time to snatch a proper breakfast. It was over breakfast they had their first real argument.

‘I’m sorry it’s been so frantic, Toni,’ Carmine said. ‘We haven’t had any time for each other.’

Toni grinned back at her. ‘It’s been fantastic,’ he said. ‘I can’t remember when I’ve ever enjoyed myself so much. You women complain about discrimination, but I’ve never had so many offers in my life, as I’ve had in the last two days as a woman.’

‘What about being black?’ she asked. ‘How did you feel when that man yesterday was so horrible?’

She was referring to an incident when a customer’s delivery hadn’t been ready for him when promised. Even worse, they had trouble finding what had happened to his order, and the man commenced a tirade along the lines of, ‘You fucking wogs come to this country and...’ Fortunately, Carmine located the bust and was able to pacify him enough to collect the money outstanding.

Toni wrinkled his nose. ‘I felt like smacking him in the teeth,’ he said, ‘but I guess that’s the hidden male in me, making its presence felt.’

‘I guess it is,’ she said. ‘I always want to cut off their balls.’

Toni winced.

‘Never mind,’ Carmine continued. ‘We’ll shut up shop at five, this afternoon. Then we’ll get dressed up and I’m going to take you out on the town. You can meet some of my friends, and later on, we’ll tour all the best black clubs.’

A shadow passed over Toni’s face. ‘Oh, sorry baby. I’m OK for the early evening, but then I have to get back to the bank for a special job.’

Carmine was furious. ‘Had enough of being a black woman, have you? Want to go back to being a nice, comfortable, middle-class, boring, old, bank manager FART!’ She shouted the last word at him, and he visibly cringed. ‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘can’t Nick Brown handle the bingo money?’

‘Bingo money! What do you know about the bingo money?’ Toni had suddenly disappeared, and it was a very male Tony who was now shouting at her.

Carmine looked at him in disbelief. ‘Everybody knows about the bingo money. They advertise it all over town. One million pound prize jackpot, which can be won any Saturday night. They have the money on display in an armoured glass box at the front of the bingo hall. It’s hardly a fucking state secret.’

‘I mean,’ Tony said, ‘how do you know...’ He stopped himself and decided to rephrase his question. ‘That is, what makes you think that my bank handles the cash?’

‘Toni, you’re being stupid,’ Carmine said. ‘Two months ago, I won a hundred quid at bingo. Rather than taking the money in cash, which I knew I’d blow in one evening, I decided to take a cheque. The address of your branch was on the cheque. So, I sort of assumed that you’re the bankers for the bingo hall, or is that a wild assumption? Which also kinda leads one to think that on Saturday night, when they’ve finished with the money at the bingo hall, they put it in an armoured car and take it to your bank. OK?

‘And incidentally,’ she continued, ‘I hadn’t got a proper bank account when I won the money, so I decided to open one at your branch. Which is why on Monday, it was to your bank I came, to ask you for a business loan.’

With her explanation, Tony had calmed down. ‘Sorry, I was being stupid. There we were in the bank, keeping it all top secret, when anyone with a brain could work out where they take the million pounds to be stored.

‘But it is my responsibility to ensure it’s properly dealt with,’ he continued. ‘Besides, I telephoned the bank yesterday to tell them I was still intending to come in and do it.’ He could still vividly remember the icy reception he’d received from Val, fuming over his liaison with Carmine.

‘I overheard you ring them,’ Carmine said. ‘That’s why I telephoned your bank again, this morning, and told them your flu had taken a turn for the worse, and you wouldn’t be coming in after all.’

She continued hurriedly, before Tony could recover from his surprise and explode. ‘You promised me that, this week, you’d let the boot be on the other foot. If our relationship means anything to you, you can’t just walk away tonight, just because it doesn’t fit in with your bank’s schedule. Please come and meet my mates, and after tonight, your trial is over and you’ll have passed. Tomorrow, Toni, we can decide how our relationship is going to work, for the rest of our lives.’

It was such an impassioned plea that the anger inside Tony instantly subsided.

‘OK,’ Toni said, and she smiled at Carmine. ‘Let’s put on our glad rags tonight, and go out on the town.’

******************

They wore matching purple gowns — backless to the waist, with halter necklines that exposed, more than hid, their breasts. Layers of light, filmy lace flared out from their waists, but not so many layers that you couldn’t just make out the tiny pair of purple knickers and suspender belt, highlighted against their black skin. Matching high-heeled sandals and tiny handbags completed their outfits, and they looked for all the world like not-quite-identical twins, out for a night of fun on the town.

They first of all called at the pub not far from the shop, where they had a couple of stiff drinks each — to calm Toni’s nerves, Carmine said. Then they got a taxi to the new town, and got it to drop them off at the end of Sunset Strip. Sunset Strip wasn’t its real name of course. It actually had the rather snappy title of Alderman Cleckheaton Boulevard, so it wasn’t surprising that the road which housed almost every nightclub and disco in Seacombe had been dubbed with a much more appropriate name.

Carmine took them down an alley off the main drag, and into a club where the air was thick with the smell of cannabis, and a jazz band was making the kind of music worth dying for. Carmine introduced Toni to a group of her friends who were sitting in the semi dark, rattling through their names so rapidly, she could only remember that the tall guy who moved to make room for her was called Mitchell. A joint was passed around, and Toni hungrily inhaled — it had been decades since he’d last taken one, at university. Then Mitchell was pushing drinks into their hands, and sitting down so close to Toni that his leg pressed against hers. It was, Toni realised with an incredible thrill surging through her, going to be a long evening.

At some point they moved on to a disco, where they danced energetically as a group, although it always appeared to be Mitchell who was closest to her when the slow dances commenced. And it was whilst he was clutching her during the slow dances that Toni realised Mitchell had a friend, who kept popping up between them. It was the sort of friend who initially made his presence felt by pushing between her knees, and then, by some miraculous process which Toni didn’t quite follow, suddenly leapt up to become a massager of navels.

The problem with having false tits is that you can’t feel when someone’s stroking them, and Toni suddenly realised that Mitchell had probably been squeezing her nipples all evening, without any dissuasion from her. She pushed his hand away now, firmly but with a smile, and went to join Carmine, where she was sitting with the bloke who’d been dancing with her. Toni made a face at Carmine, and they both went to the toilet, as girls do.

After Toni had finished in the cubicle, she joined Carmine who was standing looking into the mirror above the washbasins, and touching up her makeup.

‘How you going?’ she asked.

‘I’m a bit worried that Mitchell is getting a bit too frisky.’

‘He’s a nice guy. What’s the problem?’

Toni glanced over her shoulder at the other girls in the toilet, and lowered her voice. ‘You know what the problem is. I’m attracted to you, not to Mitchell.’

The girl at the next washbasin gave a quick, sideways look at the pair of them, then concentrated back on her makeup.

‘But I’m not available at the moment. Mitchell is.’ Carmine popped her lipstick back into her handbag, and withdrew a joint from it. She slid it between her lips and lit it, then blew smoke into Toni’s face. ‘He is an exceptionally well built guy,’ she said, ‘if you know what I mean.’

Toni opened her mouth to speak, but Carmine pushed the joint between her lips, before she could say a word. As Toni dragged on it, Carmine moved her lips to Toni’s ear and whispered, ‘He has the biggest cock in the world.’

There was a sudden look of interest from the girl next to them, but Toni choked on the joint, pulled it from her mouth and said, ‘I’m not concerned.’

Carmine pushed the joint back into Toni’s mouth, and she obediently closed her lips and inhaled.

‘The largest pair of balls you could imagine.’

Toni shook her head, as though to clear the vision from her eyes, and took another drag on the joint.

‘His prick is so thick you can’t wrap your hand around it.’

Toni gulped.

‘You can hardly open your mouth wide enough to get it inside.’

‘Look!’ Toni had withdrawn the joint and was trying to think of all the reasons why she didn’t want sex with Mitchell, but she could actually only think of one thing to say. ‘You know I’m not interested in men — only you.’

‘How do you know, if you’ve never tried it?’ Carmine pushed the joint back into Toni’s mouth, who took another drag before removing it and saying.

‘I just don’t fancy him.’

Carmine pushed the joint back between Toni’s lips, and said, ‘Well, that’s not a problem. We women have to do things all the time that we don’t particularly fancy. But that’s not a valid reason not to do them. If you’re really telling the truth about being happy to experience life as a black woman, then you’ll be happy to take Mitchell outside. You’ll simply be dying to release the belt on his trousers, and watch his great black cock force its way out the top. You’ll love to play with it in your hands, and softly cup his bollocks, and squeeze them. You’ll crave the moment when you sink to your knees and run your tongue from balls to head, and back again. And you’ll be ecstatic when you get that monster inside your mouth, and you give him the blow job of his life.’

Toni should have been horrified, but in a sense, Carmine was right. There was no reason why she, Toni, should be frightened of getting better acquainted with Mitchell. After all, hadn’t she enjoyed his company all evening? In fact, she’d hardly spoken to Carmine since she’d met Mitchell. Somewhere, right at the back of her mind was another person telling her not to do it, but that person was a bit of a bore, wasn’t he? She really didn’t know why Carmine had taken any interest at all in that dreary, old, bank manager.

‘This will be the end of your trial, Toni. When you’ve passed this test, you’ve graduated, with honours. We can go back home then, and plan our future together.’

He who hesitates is lost, thought Toni. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, ‘and find lover boy.’

‘Shit!’ said the girl at the next washbasin.

***************

Within five minutes, Mitchell and Toni were outside the disco, and walking down a dark, narrow passageway at the side of the building.

‘I think you’ll be pretty impressed with the monster I’ve got waiting for you,’ Mitchell burbled. ‘Most women are absolutely gob-smacked.’

They’d reached the end of the passageway, where a row of dustbins lined the base of a high wall, and obstructed the entrance to a wooden door.

‘This is a good place to come,’ Mitchell said, and swivelled Toni around so she was in his arms. He pulled her against him, and within seconds, his hands were inside her dress, his tongue was inside her mouth, and something very much bigger was pushing against her stomach. She wriggled against him, and pushed her tits into his chest.

‘Fucking hell, baby,’ he groaned. ‘Never mind the foreplay, or I’ll be coming in my trousers.’

He grasped her head in both hands and forced her down onto her knees in front of him. In one impossibly speedy action, he’d undone the belt on his trousers and pulled them down to his knees.

‘Take a look at that, baby,’ he said, but before she had chance, he was pulling her head forward, onto him.

As Toni took him inside her mouth, she couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed that Carmine had been somewhat overselling Mitchell’s attributes. OK, he was a big boy, somewhat larger than bank manager Tony, but it was hardly anything to write home about. As she sank her mouth down his shaft, Toni almost giggled at the thought of writing home to her mother about the events of that evening.

Mitchell was gasping loudly now, and Toni had got him almost as far inside her mouth as it would go, when he gave a sudden jerk inside her. Not having previous experience of this kind of action, but having read all about it in a myriad of books which gave the impression of being well researched on the subject, Toni had expected to drink down the dollops of cum as they were squirted out. In fact, she choked on the very first, tiny squirt as it hit the back of her throat, and she involuntary jerked her head back and closed her mouth.

Fortunately for Mitchell, her actions were in that order, and his second squirt struck her in the left eye, virtually blinding her. Turning her head away, the third stroke caught her in the right ear, and then it was all over.

‘Thanks, baby,’ Mitchell said. ‘I really needed that. Here’s a little thank you present.’ He flicked something towards her, which she couldn’t see. ‘Are you coming back into the disco, now?’ He was pulling up and fastening his trousers, oblivious to the cum streaming down Toni’s face, although in fairness to him, it was difficult to see anything in the darkness of the passage.

The beam of torchlight rectified that, and Toni, still with semen in her eye, was now totally blinded by the light shining directly into her face.

‘Police! Hold it right there,’ the voice snapped.

With his back to the light, Mitchell didn’t have Toni’s disadvantage, and in an instant, he was clambering onto the top of the dustbins. His arms just reached the top of the high wall and in a second he had climbed over the top, and disappeared out of Toni’s life forever.

The torch beam swung back to Toni and picked up her large boobs pulled from the halter top, the semen dribbling down her face, and a twenty pound note, which appeared to have got stuck to a glob of semen on her right shoulder.

‘You’re nicked,’ the voice said.

**************************

This time last week, Toni thought as they waited for a police car to pick them up and take them back to the police station, bank manager Tony Phillips had a quiet evening watching a romantic drama on TV, and had then gone to bed and read himself to sleep with a novel by his favourite author — Agatha Christie. He had a decent job at the bank with good career prospects. He had a comfortable house and a Jaguar. His sex life was a little lacking, but then a guy couldn’t have everything, could he?

If he’d been asked to imagine his worst nightmare, Toni thought, it could not have been as bad as it was going to get when the truth was revealed and his humiliation started. It wasn’t just his friends and family he was worried about, but when the bank found out, he’d undoubtedly lose his job and his company car. Even the low-cost mortgage on his house came from his bank, and he’d have to sell up and move out. He’d be ridiculed everywhere he went, and his mother would be so ashamed of him.

Should he admit everything straightaway, he wondered, or try to bluff it through. If he tried to bluff and was eventually discovered, surely it would be even worse for him — on the other hand, could it get any worse? Although Toni had no way of knowing, in fact the answer to that question was, yes, not only could it get very much worse, it was going to do so before the night was over.

Toni immediately recognised the arresting officer as PC Swan, the one who had interrogated them on Wednesday evening. Obviously he was one of those stupid honkies who thought that all blacks looked the same, and he didn’t appear to have connected the woman in front of him now, who said her name was Toni Curtains — he’d almost said it was Toni Curtis, but had managed to change it at the last minute — with the one he’d seen in a shop in the old town, three evenings before. This was fortunate, because it meant that Toni was able to lie about her address, saying she had no fixed abode. After all, she reasoned, she didn’t want to give the police any clue which might lead back to the shop, and hence the bank.

When the police car arrived, driven by a rather pretty woman constable, Swan had pushed Toni into the back seat, and then got into the passenger seat.

‘What’s she done?’ the driver asked, giving Toni a sympathetic look.

‘Prostitution,’ PC Swan replied. ‘Caught her on the job with cash in hand.’ He grinned at Toni. ‘Well, it wasn’t quite in hand, was it love?’

‘Do you want a tissue?’ the driver queried. She’d noticed the mess on Toni’s face, and she passed her a box from the glove compartment.

‘Thanks.’

‘That’s OK. My name’s PC Sally Wright, by the way.’

‘I wish I could say I was pleased to meet you,’ Toni replied.

The remarks appeared to annoy Sally, which was a pity since Toni hadn’t meant it offensively. But the car set off with such a sudden lurch that Toni was thrown back in the seat, and the semen she’d just wiped off her face with the tissue, was smeared right across her lips.

‘Didn’t you get enough in the first time?’ PC Swan smirked at her, and she felt like smacking him in the face.

She was cleaning the last of the gunk off her face when the call came through on the police radio — a fight in The Market Tavern pub, at the end of The Strip. Assistance required.

‘Oh shit!’ Swan said. ‘Let me out here. I don’t want to get involved in a punch up.’

Sally smiled sweetly at him, and gesticulated at Toni. ‘You can’t leave your arrest behind, and there isn’t time to drop you both off.’ She’d pushed her foot to the floor and switched the siren on. ‘Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to be seen to be neglecting your duty in front of the public.’

‘Fuck you,’ Swan muttered.

Three minutes later, they were pulling up outside the Market Tavern. There were people tumbling out of the door, noses bleeding and hands clutching various parts of their anatomy. Inside, the fight was obviously well underway, and both Swan and Sally went inside, leaving Toni in the car.

Time to escape, Toni thought. The problem was that the rear doors of the police car were locked, and Toni found it bloody difficult to climb over the back of the front seats to get to the front door. When she’d done so, she found the bastards had double locked the whole car. The only way to get out would be to smash the windows. Toni had a think about that. Being done for prostitution was one thing, but smashing up a police car was likely to result in having not only the book thrown at her, but the desk and chairs as well.

On the other hand, if she wasn’t here when they came back, it didn’t really matter, did it? She wriggled her legs up onto the passenger’s seat, and lay back on the driver’s seat. Now all she had to do was to bring her knees up to her face, and smash her stilettos against the passenger window.

‘Hello, having a little lie down?’ Sally had pulled the driver’s door open, and she smiled down sweetly at Toni. Sally had used her left hand to open the door, so that she could employ her right to keep a big guy secured in an arm lock.

She opened the rear door of the car and fed him inside. He gave a horrific scream as, prior to releasing his arm, she gave it a final, vicious twist. Now Toni could see him, he looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger might have done, after his face had been fed through a food processor.

‘You bitch, you’ve broken my fucking arm,’ he moaned, tears almost in his eyes. ‘You might have pulled it off.’

‘You ought to be grateful it’s only your arm,’ she said. ‘I normally grab blokes by the balls.’

She gave Toni a friendly grin. ‘I realise you’ve always wanted to drive a police car, but could I ask you to sit in the back seat again.’

Toni looked back at Schwarzenegger. ‘With him?’

‘Fraid so. I think it’ll probably be safer putting you in there, rather than PC Swan.’ She pointed behind her to the pub, where Swan was just emerging with a swollen eye and a hunched figure, obviously having been kicked in the goolies. ‘I’m afraid our friend got a bit aggressive with him.’

Toni reluctantly levered herself out of the driver’s seat and Sally opened the rear door so she could get in. As she sat down, Schwarzenegger grinned at her, and said, ‘What ho, baby. If she’d told me she was providing entertainment on the journey, she wouldn’t have needed to use force to get me inside.’ He dropped his giant hand onto her thigh, and gave it an almighty squeeze.

‘Oh shit,’ Tony thought. ‘Please let this nightmare be over soon.’

It was not to be. Barely had the car started when another message came through on the police radio — panic alarm at Barkwest Bank — all units respond.

CHAPTER 4 - THE BIG BUST
=======================

The nightmare was definitely in full swing now. Here was a bank manager in transvestite dress and under arrest for prostitution, locked in the back of a speeding police car with an Arnold Schwarzenegger mutant, who had one hand squeezing her tits, the other under her dress trying to get inside her knickers. They were en route to a robbery at the manager’s own bank, where for the last hour he should have been managing the security of one million pounds in cash.

When the car was still some distance away, they all saw, illuminated in the floodlights outside the bank, the man come dashing out carrying a large, heavy black suitcase. But of the four of them, it was only Toni who realised how very similar that man looked to himself, in his normal business suit. The man was in view for only seconds, before he disappeared up the passageway leading to the staff car park.

‘Turn left here,’ Toni shrieked at Sally. ‘You’ll be able to cut him off at the top of the passageway.’

‘Rubbish,’ Swan yelled. ‘He’ll double back if we do that and we’ll lose him. Stop next to the passage and I’ll chase after him, then you drive on and go round to the car park.’

By that time, they had already passed the turning on the left, and further argument was wasted. Sally skidded to a halt outside the bank, and almost before it had stopped, Swan was out of the car and running up the passageway. Sally dropped the car into first gear and accelerated up the road. Toni could have told her that it really would have been quicker to do a U turn and go back to the turning he had suggested, but knew it was useless.

It took them well over five minutes to get round there, and they were still several hundred yards away when Tony’s Jaguar came screeching out of the car park and accelerated off into the distance at more than a hundred miles an hour. Sally’s Fiesta simply wouldn’t stand a chance of catching it.

Swan should have been waiting for them, but he’d only just appeared on the pavement by the time they drew level with the car park. Blood was pouring down his face as Sally skidded to a halt beside him.

‘Did you get a crack at him?’ she asked.

‘No, I ran into a fucking skip,’ he said, climbing into the car beside her.

‘You’re missing a trick,’ she said, as they accelerated off. ‘You should have claimed credit for trying to arrest him.’

‘Get on the radio,’ Toni screamed at them, frustrated at their chatter, ‘and get them to raise the lift bridge to the old town. If he gets in there, you’ll never find him.’

They both looked at each other, and Swan said, ‘That’s the first decent suggestion you’ve made all evening.’

He barked his orders into the radio. Two minutes later, as they came over the brow of the hill and into view of the bridge, they could see it already starting to lift, with the Jaguar speeding towards it. As the bridge got higher and higher, so the Jaguar appeared to travel faster and faster.

At the last minute, the driver obviously realised he wasn’t going to make it, and stamped on the brake. Consequently, the car was only moving quite slowly when it smashed though the entrance barriers, careered up the highly sloping lift bridge, and unhurriedly toppled over the top. Despite that, it fell with a tremendous splash into the river flowing beneath, and immediately disappeared beneath the surface.

*****************

It was after midnight before Toni got back to the shop. After getting the bridge re-opened, Sally had driven across so they could search the old harbour-front for any signs of the driver or his booty, whilst other police officers who’d arrived on the scene, had stayed to search on that side of the river.

As soon as they pulled to a halt on the old quayside, Swan had gone running off to the water’s edge, and with him out of the way, Sally had taken a more tolerant line with her prisoners, and released both Toni and Schwarzenegger from their captivity.

‘Too much paperwork already,’ she said. ‘You’ll only create more. Now piss off.’

Schwarzenegger had been enjoying himself with Toni until now, and was rightly upset that he was in danger of losing her. Deciding that brute force was likely to be far more successful than smooth talk, he ran round to her side of the car, arms held wide apart, effectively trapping her between car and harbour-wall.

It had been a long night. Toni had diced with despair for the last two hours. She’d had semen squirted down her throat and into her eye, and her bank had lost a million pounds entrusted into her care. And now Arnold Schwarzenegger was trying to fuck her.

As her foot travelled upwards, she put every ounce of frustration and annoyance into it, imagining that if she kicked hard enough, she would make his balls pop out of his eyes. They almost did — certainly his eyeballs almost popped out, but he gave barely more than a tiny whimper, as he collapsed on the ground, and proceeded to writhe about in agony.

‘Well done, Toni,’ Sally said. ‘I feel just that way myself.’ And she gave Schwarzenegger an enormous kick in the small of the back.

*****************

As Toni got back to the shop, she felt just a tiny glimmer of hope that she might come out of everything unscathed. As soon as she was safely inside and out of view, she frantically pulled off the bodysuit and became Tony once more.

As he searched around desperately for his own clothes, he tried to work out exactly what had happened that evening. Firstly, he knew that Carmine had taken him for a sucker. She’d enticed him right from the start. He’d let her take the three-dimensional photographs of his naked body, which had allowed her to make a bodysuit for someone else, so that person would look exactly like himself.

Secondly, according to Carmine, she had telephoned the bank and let them know he wouldn’t be coming in to do the special job that evening. But of course, she’d lied about that, so the bank was still expecting Tony to arrive. The impostor had simply walked right in and stolen the million pounds, whilst Carmine kept Tony occupied on Sunset Strip.

Probably — and this hurt — she was also in cahoots with Mitchell, and the pair had engineered events so that, whilst Toni was giving him a blowjob, Carmine had shopped the pair of them to the police. Mitchell had been ready when they appeared so he had escaped, after throwing the money at her, thus setting her up for a prostitution charge.

Although the heat appeared to be off shop assistant Toni, Tony the bank manager knew he would be coming under increasing pressure. The bank staff would believe it had been him who’d stolen the money, and the police would pretty quickly be going around to Tony’s home to try to find him. If Tony wasn’t there, they would know without doubt he’d been the person in the car that had gone into the river. There’d be an immediate all points bulletin out for him, in case he had managed to escape.

He left the shop as Tony Phillips and ran the two hundred yards to the nearest taxi rank. He offered a ten pound tip if the driver could get him home in less than ten minutes.

Perhaps if the taxi driver had done it in less than ten minutes, things would have worked out differently. As it was, he had just paid off the driver when the police car rolled up behind him.

‘Good evening sir,’ said PC Sally Wright. ‘Just been out robbing a bank?’

CHAPTER 5 - DARKEST AT DAWN
===========================

The harbourmaster knew exactly where the body would be discovered at first light. The rescue helicopter found it within a few minutes of looking, and brought it back to the waiting ambulance and the small group of police, on the quayside at Seacombe. Even PC Swan could see the body looked exactly like, Tony Phillips, the man who Sally Wright had arrested some hours earlier, and who CID had been grilling ever since. Of course, it would not be until the autopsy that anyone realised that the body was disguised with a bodysuit, and actually looked nothing like Tony.

Reluctantly, the police decided they had no grounds to keep Tony Phillips any longer, and he was released about seven thirty on that cold and dreary Sunday morning. They kindly offered to give him a lift home, but he couldn’t bear the thought of being in police presence for a moment longer, and he decided to walk home, instead.

In fact, the walk helped to clear his brain of the fug, which had built up, after the hours of repeating the same simple story he’d originally spun them. He’d been off work, ill, he’d said, and his girlfriend had looked after him at her flat above a shop in the old town. On Saturday evening, she’d decided to go out with a girlfriend, leaving him in bed. He had meant to telephone the bank and tell them he was sick, but he’d been feeling so very bad that he’d dropped off to sleep without doing so.

He had awoken sometime after midnight, and realised his girlfriend hadn’t returned. Suspecting her of being unfaithful, he had become annoyed, and decided to go home. Only when he went to collect his Jaguar from the car park, did he discover it had been stolen, and instead he had taken a taxi home. Like the best of lies, it had been simple to remember and repeat. After repeating it to the police so many times, he almost believed it himself.

After walking for a few minutes, he felt so much better that he even decided to make a slight detour in order to pass his bank, and see what was happening there. Perhaps he would be able to talk with whoever was still on duty and discover more about the raid, of which up until now, the police had told him absolutely nothing. In fact, when he got to the bank, there was no one around. The bank door was locked, and it all appeared remarkably normal. No one could have guessed the bank was presumably missing one million pounds from its vaults.

From the bank, the quickest way home on foot was to walk up the alleyway at the side and pass the staff car park — the same alleyway that the robber had taken the previous evening. But the big problem with walking anywhere in the new town was that almost every minor road sloped steeply, and this alleyway at the side of the bank was no exception. Tony started to sweat slightly, as he often did as he climbed to the car park at the top of the hill.

The robber must have had a tough time, he thought, lugging that suitcase full of money with him. The idea brought him to an abrupt halt. After all, one million pounds in notes was extremely heavy. Surely, he thought, no one carrying the suitcase could have run up that slope, so why hadn’t PC Swan managed to catch up with him? Tony looked back down the alley to the lower end beside the bank — because Swan had bumped into the builder’s skip — that was why. But even with that interruption, surely Swan could still have overtaken a man trying to drag such an enormous weight up the steep hill?

Tony walked back down the hill towards the skip. Swan’s blood was still on the outside — congealed red dribbles down the dirty yellow paintwork. Inside, the blood had splattered all over the large, black suitcase which had been stuffed in there, as the robber had suddenly come to terms with the difficulty of dragging that heavyweight up the hill, with the police hard on his heels.

Tony was torn. On the one hand, he realised he shouldn’t disturb evidence until the police and Scene of Crime Officers had played about with it for a few hours. On the other hand, the suitcase presumably contained the million pounds, and since he didn’t have his mobile with him, he would have to leave it in order to find a payphone and call the police.

He decided it was better to be safe, than sorry. He pulled the suitcase from the skip and continued his journey. Several times on that journey home, he wished he had left the case where it was. It was bloody heavy, after all, and there were so many sodding hills to climb. He would have taken it to the police station himself, had they not treated him so dreadfully. No, let the buggers wait! In fact, when he got home he would have breakfast before telephoning the police. That would teach them to arrest him for robbing his own bank!

The blue and white police tape was draped across the entrance to his garden. Even from there, he could see a big split down the side of his front door, where the police had smashed their way inside. He lifted the tape and walked over to the door, and pushed it slightly. The door lurched to one side, with only one hinge still holding it in position.

Inside, the place had the appearance of being hit by a tornado. The contents of every cupboard and drawer had been turned out onto the floor, and then shovelled into one big heap in his lounge. The carpets in every room had been lifted, and then tossed aside. Pictures had their backs ripped off, stuffing from the cushions pulled out, even holes knocked through some of the partition walls.

In the kitchen, they’d tipped the flour, sugar and salt out of their containers into the sink, and when Tony turned on the tap to try to wash it all away, he found they’d taken the plumbing apart, and the water from the plughole poured over his feet.

****************

‘Well, Phillips. What have you got to say for yourself?’

Tony turned, to see Dick Thompson, his Area Manager, standing in the doorway. He pointed hopelessly around him. ‘The police have fucked up my house.’

‘Well, what do you expect? The bank has lost a lot of money, and it appeared as though you had stolen it.’

Tony pointed at the discarded flour bag. ‘They were looking for a million quid. They wouldn’t find it in a bag of flour.’

‘Obviously looking for clues. Now I suggest you start tidying it up. Not of course, that there’s any hurry. After all, you will have plenty of time, now that you’re not working.’

‘Not working? What do you mean?’

‘I mean,’ Dick Thompson said, ‘that you’re suspended from duty. The police have given me your version of events. It appears that, at best, you have been incredibly careless. Forgetting to telephone in when you were too sick to attend an important security function is total dereliction of duty. Now, can I have your pass card?’

CHAPTER 6 - BORN AGAIN
====================

It was late afternoon before he awoke. After Thompson had left, the events of the last twelve hours had swept over him, and he almost fell unconscious on the spot. He’d gone upstairs to his bedroom, found some bedclothes from the heap on the floor, and had immediately fallen into a deep sleep on his partly shredded mattress.

He went downstairs to the kitchen and managed to find enough food to stave off the hunger pains. He switched on the local radio, and as the clock struck five, the news headlines came on. There was no mention of any bank robbery, but Tony wasn’t surprised. It was fairly common for news of such robberies to be concealed, to avoid embarrassment to the bank and loss of confidence in the banking system. The main item was the story of a late night police chase after a stolen Jaguar, with it ending by plunging into the river after trying to leap across the opening lift bridge.

A man’s body had been recovered from the sea that morning, the news bulletin continued, and it was thought to be that of actor Jonathan Beggs, who’d last worked at Seacombe’s Summer Pavilion Theatre, several months previously.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. Although he hadn’t dared to admit it, he’d been terrified that it had been Carmine who had used the bodysuit to disguise herself as Tony. Not only would Tony have felt that was an even worse betrayal of him, it would also have taken the police straight round to Big Busts. As it was, the police would be concentrating their investigation upon Jonathan Beggs, allowing time for Tony to ensure he had left no evidence at the shop.

He once more reviewed the story he’d given to the police. The problem, he’d already realised, was that the police would go around to Big Busts to get Carmine to confirm his story. She obviously wouldn’t be there, and when they eventually got fed up of knocking on her door, they would probably decide to search the place, instead.

Then, they would discover the bodysuit he had left there the previous night and, forensics being what they were, they’d be able to prove he had been wearing it. To avoid his unintentional involvement becoming public, he realised it was inevitable that he was going to have to go back to Carmine’s shop, recover the bodysuit and destroy it. But better safe than sorry, he thought. Best to wait until darkness fell.

************************

Tony was wearing a dark blue sweater above black jeans. He quietly toured the area three times before he’d satisfied himself there was no police watch on Big Busts. No policemen lurking in doorways; no silent men sitting in parked cars; not even any vans with dark glass windows.

As he walked up to Big Busts, he had his credit card ready and it took barely a second to slip the latch, walk through the door and close it after him. There was enough light coming in from the passageway for him to walk across the shop without switching on the light, but as soon as he reached the central hallway, he realised he would have to do so, or run the risk of falling over and hurting himself in the dark. He first made certain the door from the shop to the hallway was tightly closed — he didn’t want anyone who might look through the shop window to realise there was someone at home.

With the light on, Tony looked around. From where he stood at the base of the stairs, he could see the bodysuit lying on the floor in the workroom. He breathed a sigh of relief that he’d got into the shop before the police, for that would surely be the first item they’d have noticed.

He went into the workroom, picked up the two halves of the bodysuit, and draped them over his arm. As he did so, the face stared up at him, with that wonderful sexy smile. A little shiver ran through him. Whilst he was here, he thought, why didn’t he put on the bodysuit for one last time?

It was, of course, an absolutely stupid idea. He had already decided he would pack it, along with any other incriminating evidence, into the black, plastic sack he had brought with him, and drop it into the big dustbin, which stood behind a nearby pub.

On the other hand, he thought, now the police had Jonathan Beggs’ body, and no doubt, all kinds of clues to follow up, they weren’t going to be too concerned about not being able to immediately get hold of Carmine. Therefore, it was hardly as though it mattered too much if he spent a bit longer here than he’d anticipated. After all, he did so enjoy turning into the voluptuous Toni.

Thirty seconds later, he had frantically yanked off his clothes and discarded them on the floor. The problem began when he tried to pull on the lower half of the bodysuit, for it appeared that, in the space of twenty-four hours, he had become wider in the hips. The leggings just would not go over them.

In the last three days, he’d got used to taking the bodysuit off to shower, and putting it back on again. With practice, it had got very much easier than that first time he’d donned it. But on past occasions, he’d always used plenty of talcum powder on his body. Although at the moment he didn’t feel at all sweaty, he thought that perhaps he needed to put some on now, in order to lubricate the suit as he pulled it on. He picked up both his clothes and the bodysuit and carried them upstairs to the bedroom.

The bodysuit was lying on the bed, where he had left it when he had hurriedly changed last night! And yet, he was holding the bodysuit in his arms. Tony looked from the bodysuit on the bed to the one in his arms and back again — there were now two bodysuits!

Tony felt as though his brain had ceased up — there was no rational explanation for one bodysuit to turn into two, like an amoeba dividing. Even if there were, how could one of them have walked downstairs to the workroom, and waited there to be found?

Except, of course, the bodysuit he had found in the workshop was not the twin of the one on the bed, because he hadn’t been able to pull it over his hips. Ergo, it had been made to fit someone else. He laid the two bodysuits flat on the floor, side by side, so he could directly compare them.

They certainly looked almost identical. The wig was the same; the lips were the same; the nose was the same shape; the height was the same. In fact, if it hadn’t been that they were obviously slightly different sizes, the two could have been identical twins.

As identical as Carmine and Toni had been!

The thought hit him like an express train striking a donkey — it was as though every bit of him had been splattered into tiny pieces. He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to fathom out how the world had suddenly turned upside down. But the answer was simple — Carmine looked like Carmine because she had been wearing a bodysuit!

The real Carmine could look completely different, he realised. There was no reason why her skin should be black — it could be any colour. Her height was presumably unchanged, but her shape could be dramatically altered, and instead of those superb tits, she could be quite skinny. He felt inside the leotard top — sure enough, the breasts were heavily padded — why with that amount of padding, her breasts must be smaller than Tony’s own, but...

He had a sudden thought, and he snatched up the leggings again and closely examined them. The slit at the groin was identical to that in his own bodysuit but the padding on the hips was even thicker, which was totally illogical. A woman always had wide hips, not narrow ones and she would have had terrible trouble peeing through that slit. Unless, Tony thought, it had not been a woman wearing this bodysuit at all, but a man! A man such as the actor, Jonathan Beggs!

Tony had a sudden urge to slide down to the floor and cry, but men aren’t supposed to do that kind of thing, so he did the next best thing.

He quickly pulled on his own bodysuit, and then Toni sat on the floor and cried her heart out.

********************

Only now, was the total scale of the deception clear. Jonathan Beggs had set up the whole thing. He’d disguised himself as Carmine, and come into the bank asking for a bank loan, with the sole objective of trapping Tony. It had been inevitable that they should fuck, and that Tony would fall into the trap, hook, line and sinker.

After Beggs had set up the blowjob with Mitchell and fixed it for Toni to be arrested for prostitution, he had assumed that Toni would be safely out of the way. He would have jumped into a taxi and come back to the shop, where he’d taken off his Carmine bodysuit, and donned his bank manager Tony bodysuit. He’d dressed and then got into Tony’s Jaguar and driven back to the bank and conned his way inside.

He’d have got away with it as well, but for the fight in The Market Tavern, which had meant that Toni was still in the police car when the bank alarm went off. Only Toni had the presence of mind to get them to lift the bridge, perhaps because she had silently suspected that the eventual destination of the robber would be Big Busts.

If Beggs had managed to get over the bridge and reached Big Busts, he would have removed his Tony bodysuit, and left the building disguised as Carmine, getting clean away with the million pounds. As it was, the money was still sitting in Tony’s hallway, where he had dumped it when he had returned home and found his home devastated.

**********************

The thought hit him like a brick. Since arriving home and finding the chaos left by the police, all thought of the loot had completely deserted him. He’d simply plonked the suitcase down in the hallway, and staggered around looking at the mess. Then Dick Thompson had walked in and compounded his confusion by virtually giving him the sack. It was ironic that Thompson must have stepped right past the suitcase containing the million pounds as he arrived and left. More importantly, it was still standing there now, ready for any passing thief to walk in and remove it.

Tony had tried that afternoon to get someone to come out and make the house secure, but as usual when you want them, all the 24 hour emergency repair services appeared to be having their day off, so he’d simply found a piece of plywood which he’d screwed across the front door entrance to give some semblance of security. But any burglar could just as easily unscrew the plywood, which Tony had so painstakingly put in. Toni had to get back there straightaway.

Without further thought, Toni slipped on the little white dress she had first worn and ran down the stairs. She was halfway across the shop towards the door, when she became aware that someone was standing outside the door with his hand raised, about to knock on it. It was PC Swan, and he was staring right at her.

**************

‘Well, fancy seeing you here,’ he said, a malevolent smile spreading across his face. ‘It’s funny, but last night I knew I’d seen you somewhere before, but I couldn’t place it until I started to walk along this passageway. Well, well, well.’

Toni smiled back at him. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Escaping from police custody is a very serious offence, you know. You can go to prison for that.’

All the horrors of last night’s arrest suddenly returned. ‘I didn’t escape,’ she gasped. ‘PC Wright released me.’

‘It’s not what she told me. She said that the pair of you had run off, whilst she was searching the wharf. So I think I’m going to have to arrest you again. Unless of course, you can help me with my enquiries?’

A glimmer of hope. ‘What do you want?’

‘I’m looking for Carmine Ross. Is she here?’

Of course, Toni realised, the police were still trying to confirm the statement that Tony had made last night. All she had to do was to stand in for Carmine and give Tony an alibi.

‘I’m afraid she hasn’t returned from her evening out, last night. She often does that — finds some bloke and shacks up with him. Last night, she left one bloke here whilst we went out to pick up some more. Can I help you?’

‘Do you know Tony Phillips?’ he said. ‘Did you see anything of him last night after you returned?’

Toni almost gasped with relief. No problem in giving the right answer. ‘Yes. I got in just after midnight, and he was still here — just about to leave.’

Swan was looking suspicious. ‘He didn’t say anything to the police about meeting you.’

‘No, he wouldn’t.’ Toni was ready for him. ‘There’d been a bit of a row before we left, and I didn’t want to see Tony again. So when I got in and heard him at the top of the stairs, I nipped into the workroom, and stayed there until he’d come down and left. He didn’t see me at all, but I certainly watched him leave.’

‘Hmm. I suppose that stacks up. If you came straight here after you escaped custody, there certainly wouldn’t have been time for him to get himself out of the river and into here ahead of you. I’ll need you to come down to the police station tomorrow and make a formal statement.’

There was no way Toni wanted to go into the police station ever again. ‘Couldn’t I write the statement now? I’m going to be terribly busy tomorrow with Carmine being away. I’ve got a computer in the workroom. I could write the statement up on that.’

Swan gave her a leer. ‘Sounds good to me. Save me some typing.’

************

It took less than five minutes for Toni to switch on the computer, type up a simple statement, print it out then sign it. ‘There, is that satisfactory?’

Swan read it carefully, then said, ‘I guess that matter is resolved, but there are still the other issues. Escaping from custody and prostitution — they are very serious matters.’

‘But you said that if I helped you with your enquiries it would be OK.’

‘Oh, you wogs always make up this kind of crap, don’t you?’ Swan suddenly had her by the wrist and was twisting it painfully, making her spin around. ‘I’m arresting you for prostitution and escaping lawful custody.’

She heard a click behind her back, then her other wrist was being grasped and forced backwards, until she heard another click, and her wrists were handcuffed together.

‘You do not have to say anything, but if you...’

‘Why are you giving me all this crap? PC Wright released me. Ask her.’

‘She’s off duty now until tomorrow afternoon. I’ll ask her then. In the meantime, you can enjoy the pleasures of the nick for twenty-four hours.’

Toni was panicking. ‘Oh look, please. Don’t do it. I’ll do anything...’

Swan swung her violent around. ‘Anything?’

Too late, Toni realised what she had said, but she knew she had no choice. If she was kept in prison for a whole day, detection would be inevitable.

‘Yes,’ she smiled. ‘Anything for you, officer.’

Swan grabbed the front of her dress with both hands and brutally tore it down to her waist. ‘Well, now we’re talking,’ he said. He pointed his thumb downwards. ‘Let’s start with a blowjob. Fact is, it really turned me on yesterday when I saw you with spunk all over your face. Thought I might like to try it myself.’

He undid the belt of his trousers, and released them so they fell around his boots. He slipped down his pants to reveal his dick. It was so small that Toni almost laughed out loud, but she had more sense. With her wrists still handcuffed behind her, she sank to her knees and started to take him inside her mouth.

‘Come on, black bitch.’ Swan grabbed her head and forced it completely over his cock. If his prick had been any decent size, she’d have choked on it, but fortunately, it wasn’t.

‘Harder, come on you fucking, black slag, harder.’

As she was giving him head, Toni realised she only had Swan’s word that after this was over, he would not continue with his arrest. However, as it turned out, it was an academic point. Just as Swan was reaching his climax, the workroom door suddenly burst open, and somebody shouted, ‘Police raid! Nobody move!’

***********************

It probably wouldn’t have been so bad for Swan if he hadn’t been standing directly behind the door. As it was, the door handle banged him hard in the small of the back, violently knocking him forward. Unfortunately, with his feet firmly trapped by his trousers, he fell on top of Toni, and the pair of them fell on the floor, with Swan’s dick still in Toni’s mouth.

Toni really had no alternative. With the violence of his thrusts, she had almost been choking anyway, and with Swan’s weight on top of her and his belly pressing against her face, she couldn’t breathe. It was all simply too much - she did the only thing possible — she clenched her teeth, and bit as hard as she could.

The scream hurt everyone’s ears, except Swan, who clearly had other things on his mind, and he jerked upwards, away from the pain, striking his head with a loud thud against the corner of the workbench. The screaming abruptly ceased.

‘Phew. I bet that hurt.’ PC Sally Wright did not seem at all sympathetic to the plight of the unconscious Swan. Instead, she pulled Swan’s body to one side and carefully looked Toni over.

‘Are you alright?’ she asked, helping Toni regain an upright position.

‘I think so,’ Toni said, looking around, expecting to see the room full of police. ‘Where’s the rest of the raid?’

Sally smiled. ‘Only kidding,’ she said. ‘I came round to get a statement from Carmine Ross, but the shop door was open, so I decided to come in. I could see through the crack in the door that Swan was up to his usual tricks, so I thought I’d do a bit of coitus-interruptus.’

She turned to inspect him. ‘That’s a very nasty mess you’ve made of his dick,’ she said. ‘I think he’ll have to go to hospital and have it sewn together again.’

She gave Swan a kick between the shoulder blades. ‘Oi, Swan! Wake up.’ She gave him another kick, and he grunted.

‘Wassup? Warrisit?’

‘You are in deep shit,’ Sally said. ‘The Sergeant has been and gone. He was most pissed off with you for sexually attacking a witness. He’s going to try to cover it up, although you don’t deserve it. But he said one more bit of trouble from you and you’re out the force. Got it?’ She gave him another kick for effect

‘Oh, fucking hell, my prick hurts. Jesus Christ! That black bitch has almost bitten it off.’

‘Then get down the hospital straightaway, and let that be a warning to you. And the Sarge says stay away from this woman, or else. Do you hear?’

Muttering some extremely nasty comments, Swan staggered to his feet, gingerly pulled up his trousers, and carefully walked out of the shop.

‘Oh, I see you made out a statement.’ Sally had caught sight of the sheet of paper still lying on the desk. She picked it up and read it. ‘Well, that seems to clear up all the business I came round for.’ She tucked the statement into her inside pocket.

‘Do you think you could remove the handcuffs, please?’ Toni asked.

Sally smiled. ‘I will, but not yet. After all, the night is still young, and you haven’t shown me where the bedroom is.’

******************

Several times that night, Toni wondered just exactly what would happen if Sally found out the truth. No doubt, she could make out a very long list of charges, which would ensure that Tony Phillips was locked in prison for the next twenty years, leaving all lesbians safe to roam the streets in peace.

But more likely, Toni thought, Sally would combine her skills at ju-jitsu with her contempt for the male anatomy, to cause him such incredible pain that Swan’s mishap would appear like a tiny scratch.

Having said that, she was very good in bed — even better than Carmine had been, and they both had countless climaxes, each of which lasted for ages. Sally was so much more versatile and knowledgeable about lesbian sex than Carmine — which was hardly surprising, since Carmine had really been a male, middle-aged actor.

The sun was rising as Sally left, and as Toni finally dropped off to sleep, she knew she had met the woman with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

***************
Toni Phillips woke up feeling as if a brand new world had just started. She struggled to sit upright in the bed, a childish grin breaking out on her face as she stared over towards the dressing table. The woman smiling back at her in the mirror was fantastic — big, black and beautiful, and naked from the waist up, her lower half obscured by a white drape across her midriff.

There were a number of brightly coloured dresses hanging in the open wardrobe, but the simple white dress with the deep cleavage, which she had worn last night, was still lying on the floor where it had got strewn in the heat of the moment. God knows where Tony’s own clothes had ended up — at that moment, she couldn’t have cared less, for life ahead was far too exciting to be bothered about a trivial detail like trousers. With a bit of luck, she wasn’t going to need them for ages.

She blew a kiss, and the woman in the mirror returned it with an even bigger smile, her breasts giving a pleasant jiggle, as she moved.

But she knew she couldn’t stay in bed staring at her image for long. She had to go over to Tony Phillip’s house to pick up a rather valuable suitcase, and then get back to Big Busts before opening time. There really was no peace for the wicked, she thought, and undoubtedly, she was truly wicked. She really should have told the bank she had recovered their money.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, Sally had told her that, tonight, she would bring over a spare uniform and let her try it on. Then they would walk around the block together, and pounce upon any bloke who stepped out of line. There was always at least one, Sally had told her, with an enigmatic smile which more than rivalled that of Mona Lisa. And Toni had smiled back at her, her own secrets concealed even more closely than those of Mona Lisa.