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Death Row by Waldo This is a multi-chapter story with a transgender theme. While there's very heavy sex, I concentrate more on the story than on the sex. If you're underaged or have any major hang-ups, I suggest that you don't read any further. Chapter 1 - The AhChing The solid clank of the heavy metal door echoed through the long hallway. Although the hallway was brightly lit by overhead lights, there was a cold and unfriendly pallor that could only be understood by someone that has personally been within the confining walls of a prison's Death Row. The escort guard nodded to the old man to continue, wondering how the old man was avoiding the claustrophobic and clammy feeling that most people experience; remembering his own, first apprehensive walk down this corridor. Leaning on his hand carved cane, the very ancient and dispassionate Chinese man slowly walked down the hallway to the next checkpoint - the checkpoint where the prison guards would take away his cane. The clicking sounds of the guard's hard leather steel- toed boots echoed off the walls, drowning out the soft whisper of the old man's soft-leather wrapped feet. The boot sounds had a weird rhythm - two sharp clicks then a long pause as the guard stopped to wait for the old man as the old man stepped out silently with his right foot and then softly and silently dragged his left foot, then step out again with his right foot, dragging his left foot. The old man's shorter step and inability to fully use his left leg, caused him to take ten steps to the guard's two steps. After what seemed like an extremely long time to the escort guard, they reached the Death Row checkpoint. The two guards manning the checkpoint examined the paperwork presented by the escort guard. After reading the papers, the senior guard said "Mr. Chin, you're here to visit prisoner 14718, John Augustus. I have to remind you of the standard rules that you agreed to; upon your entry to our federal facility today. Because we're under a security alert, we have to take extra procedures with certain prisoners, which includes prisoner Augustus. We'll escort you into a special visiting area, where we have a chair placed outside a holding cell. After you sit down in the chair, we'll take your cane from you. From the time that you sit down, you can't get up or cross the yellow line that's four feet in front of the chair upon entering or leaving the holding cell. We'll escort prisoner Augustus into the holding cell. Then we'll leave the room, so that you may talk to him. While there won't be any guards in the room, you'll be monitored at all times by a silent camera - we can see you but can't hear your private discussion with the prisoner. If you leave your chair or attempt to pass prisoner Augustus anything, we'll re- enter the room and arrest you. Do you understand the rules and agree to comply?" The old man slightly nodded his head affirmatively, displaying no emotion within his cold, dark eyes. Unable to accept the nod as an official answer, the guard repeated his request in his official sounding tone "I have to have a vocal acknowledgment." "Yes." Replied the old man in an ancient, creaking voice, rotted by the years. The other checkpoint guard flipped some switches on his control panel, resulting in an electric motor's whirl sounding as a heavy metal door unlocked and opened, reveling a large room. The escort guard and checkpoint guard escorted the old man into the room and to a heavy metal chair against the wall that was fastened to the floor, facing a small jail cell. The chair was ten feet away from the jail cell and four feet in front of the chair was a bright yellow painted line. The old man sat down in the chair and the guard took his cane. Then they waited, not saying a word as they stared at the empty cell. About five minutes later, the sound of another motor driven door announced the prisoner's arrival. A door within the jail cell opened and three guards escorted a prisoner wearing a bright orange jumpsuit-type coverall into the room. The prisoner took short halting steps because his feet and arms were restrained in heavy metal manacles; the jingling sounds of the manacles echoing quite loudly in the bare room. The prisoner's general build and facial structure was so similar to the deceased actor Peter Lorre, that the few visitors (reporters, social workers, etc.) who hadn't known John Augustus previously, would experience a series of late night movie flashbacks as they stared at the prisoner; expecting a psychotic killer. The prisoner was almost a clone except that he had a neatly trimmed beard and was bald-headed. The three guards helped the prisoner sit down in a similar chair within the jail cell and fastened his arm manacles to the chair. After checking the locks, the three guards marched precisely out of the jail cell, the sound of the heavy metal door's clank sound echoing through the room. The checkpoint guard repeated his instructions "Mr. Chin, you have one hour from the time that I exit this room. We'll constantly monitor your video image with our camera but your privacy is ensured because we don't have any audio capabilities on our cameras. If we observe you violate any of the rules that were explained to you at our main gate and by myself - then this session is instantly canceled. We'll forcibly remove you from this room if necessary and you're subject to possible arrest and/or detention. If you wish to leave before the one hour is up, press the button on the side of your chair and wait for me to enter the room." The old man nodded acceptance of the mandatory rules. The guard frowned, knowing that he was supposed to get a verbal response; but accepted the nod. Satisfied with the compliance to procedures so far, the checkpoint guard nodded to the escort guard and they left the room, taking the old man's cane. Neither occupant spoke or moved, as they stared at each other until about ten seconds after the guards shut the door after their exit. The prisoner was the first to break the silence, speaking in a deep baritone that seemed so out of place to anyone expecting Peter Lorre's pip-squeak irritating monotone voice "It's so nice of you to visit me. I don't get many visitors, since my appeals were denied. Even my lawyer won't come to see me unless I pay him." The old man's ancient voice cracked as he spoke about the issue that brought him to the prison "Where is my grandson? Why are you doing this to us" "Whoa, old man. Before we get down to business, let's share a few friendly social amenities. You know - get to know each other. How's the World Series coming? Has the frost killed the flowers yet? I don't get much opportunity to find out about the outside world, in here. Death row has some very strict social rules that limit long term friendships. I would offer you one of my cigars but as you can see - the guards won't allow us to share items and also are very restrictive in allowing me to have any privileges." Ignoring the direction that the prisoner was leading the discussion, the old man continued "If my grandson is harmed, I'll destroy you and your offspring." "I like a good cigar. It's one of the few enjoyments that the guards permit me. They x-ray them and steal a few of them but it's nice to sit down and think while I smoke a good cigar. I only get to smoke one a day and I'll be glad when I can have as many as I want again." "My grandson's safety and his return to me - I have nothing else to discuss with you." "Shit, don't you believe in getting to know anyone before getting down to business? Don't worry about your grandson - he's all right and if anything happened to him, you've got at least thirty more grandsons - so what's one more kid in this already overpopulated world? At least he's all right now that you're here to see me, but if you don't cooperate with me - well, let's just say that your coming here today saved my friends from doing more drastic things - such as cutting his tongue out. If you'd come here last week like we politely asked you, then we wouldn't have had to cut his ear off to get your attention. While his ear won't grow back, he can let his hair grow long to hide the slight imbalance that having only one ear causes. You see, I don't have much time - the denial of my last appeal had a small technical problem that will only suffice to delay my execution, not free me. So I don't have much time to pussy-foot around and had to convince you that we mean business. I had a feeling that you'd be willing to cooperate once you saw his ear." "I want him released - today! Then I'll do what you're requesting." The old man calmly stated. "No. I thought that seeing your grandson's ear would convince you that I'm in charge and you're working for me. I call the shots. As long as you do what I say, he's all right. The first time that you hesitate, we cut his tongue out - the next time, we chop his dick off - and the next, he loses an arm. Then I get really mad. Believe me when I say that I have nothing to lose, so I'm quite ready to do what ever it takes to get your cooperation. Understand?" He hissed the last word to emphasize his point. "Let's get it over with. You have arranged it so that I have no choice but to comply with your demands - or lose one of my favorite grandchildren. Can you arrange for my herbs to be smuggled to you?" the old man's angry, dark eyes glinted in the harsh prison overhead light. "Yeah, but first I have to make sure that your magic or whatever you call it - can do what you're supposed to do. I don't want to take any of your herbs without knowing that it works. I want a test and I've got a volunteer in here that you can use to demonstrate that it works." "I can't do that. My ancient Chinese rituals are extremely difficult to plan for. It won't work if the star positions aren't lined up correctly. I can estimate a target site for one body exchange but two exchanges is impossible. It's something that probably can't be done." The prisoner's yellow teeth gleamed as he laughed "I don't take nothing until I see it work - and KNOW IT WORKS. Remember that your grandson is running out of easily removable body parts. I've spent a lot of time talking through the bars to the man in the cell next to me. His name's Robert Williams - in here for killing a clerk during a robbery. Well, to tell the truth, it was his second liquor store shooting in less than five years and they threw the book at him. From spending the last three years on Death Row with him in the next cell, I know Bob better than I know my own brother. I want you to work your magic on him, then after I see his new body, I'll try it. The day that he's sitting in that chair - a free man with a new identity - and confirms to me that it's really him, then I'll let you do your hocus pocus on me. Until then, your grandson is the guest of my friends." For almost a minute, they just stared at each other. Then the old man said "I don't make the rules of the AhChing. I just follow them. The position of the stars determines the start date and the location of the guest. If you were free to move to a different location, then I might be able to do it. But with you locked up in here, I can't predict the correct combination pattern twice in a row. To successfully exchange your friend, it takes 25 days for the whole process. Each day for the first ten days, he must digest a small pinch of my herbs, which will invoke a coma each day for his body. It'll start off with him going to sleep and waking up in his new host body while his real body remains in the coma. He'll be awake and in control of his new body, but it'll only last for an hour the first day. For the next twenty four days, it will increase by one hour each day until the last day, when it becomes permanent, after he's spent a full twenty-four hours in his host body. That day, his former body will die while still in it's coma and he becomes the person whose body he's invaded." "Fuck, that might be difficult to get to work in here. I was hoping it was an instant change which I could control - but to pull it off for twenty five days in a row is a different story. I can get the herbs in here but I can't bribe all the guards. Someone not on my payroll, will notice the fucking coma and transfer him to the medics. At first, the stupid, asshole guards won't notice anything because it'll appear that he's just sleeping, but when it gets where he can't be woken up after his nightly eight hours of sleep, they'll become suspicious. Then when it occurs the next day also, they'll become very suspicious." "Then release my grandson. I can't change the way the AhChing works. I don't understand how it works or have any control over the ancient rituals taught to me by my grandfather. If your friend's transferred away from this general location prior to the last day, it'll be over. As long as he's within a mile of this location, it'll work. If he's moved and loses his starting position, it can't be re-tried with him. The stars only give any person one chance." A grim smile formed on John Augustus's face "Ok, we'll find some way to live with that limitation. What sort of body will he wind up in? Any options?" "No. And the rules are very strict. I've calculated a triangle using the stars and this prison, finding a location where the other leg of the triangle comes to earth. I've rented a house and started the process of luring a prospective recipient there. It will be difficult to get a second person there for you." "Well, you'll figure out some way to do it. What does Bob's new body look like?" "I don't know and can't do anything to influence the choice. The ritual demands that I issue an invitation to many people and accept whoever arrives, if they arrive within a ten minute period of my scheduled time. I only know that his and your new bodies are going to be female." "Shit, a woman - Bob's going to love being a cunt. As for myself, I don't care. I only want out of here and could live with anything short of a fucking cat's body. I hate cats. Why can't you invite a man?" "I don't make the rules. It won't work unless the recipient is a woman." "Make sure it's an attractive body that's healthy and young." "I have no choice. The stars will pick someone to respond to my invitation." The prisoner stared at the old man for several seconds and then softly said "I guess that being a fucking bitch is better than being in here. You've got a deal. When can you start?" ****** The car turned off the dirt road and slowly wound down the twisting, narrow dirt road that led to the old farmhouse sitting in the middle of very pretty pastoral farm lands. Many shafts of glimmering sunlight cut through the trees of the forest on one side of the road. The driver parked the car beside the small empty chicken-house, rolling down the window because it was a warm day. After cutting off the engine, twenty- seven year old Andrea Bell looked at her folded newspaper. An ad was circled that read: FOR RENT - Small, remote farmhouse. Close to mountains, ideal for writer or artist wanting to get away. 555-1268 She stepped out of the car, adjusting her skirt. She was 5'10" tall, but the type of heels that she always wore, put her at eye level with any 6 foot tall man. She always dressed as if she was a very prim and proper, expensive, real estate broker or lawyer - very businesslike. For example, the clothes that she had on today - her very tailored gray skirt, blouse, and double-breasted jacket were perfectly coordinated, with a scarf around her neck to add a touch of femininity to her professional look. It was the type of clothes expected of a rich minister's wife. A simple gold ring on her finger hinted of a potential husband, but her close friends knew that she only wore the ring to scare off any potential suitors, preferring to have a good book in her bed instead of a man. She had never been married but had tried some lovers, discovering that she didn't like sex. At least sex with a man. Her gray-green eyes were hidden behind a pair of glasses that she really didn't need to wear, except she liked the way the glasses helped her desired image; thinking that the glasses hid the worry lines that were already forming on her young face. She had little need for make-up; her looks were well-defined and classic, with high cheekbones, a small straight nose, and high forehead, giving her face an Ivy League look that a model would be proud to have. Her black hair was pulled into a small upsweep French twist bun on the back of her head, wrapped around one of those hidden little gizmos that secured every strand of hair, making her look somewhat like a schoolteacher. She was slender, with long legs, narrow wrists and skinny arms, weighing only 127 pounds. Most people that knew her, thought that she could use a little more meat on her bones. Because she believed in a presenting a positive image at all times, she forced a light smile to her face and adjusted her suit jacket so that it camouflaged her breasts. Under the suit, was the body of a woman, with soft flowing curves that the suit hid, instead of complementing her very nice figure. A former lover had declared her body to be too exquisite to be hidden behind such prim and proper clothes, but she hadn't believed him. Her breasts were round and firm, well- proportioned breasts, with no sag at all due to her constant bra wearing. Her bras were chosen to minimize her chest and to keep her breasts from jiggling as she walked. Her small waist accented the firm roundness of her hips, but as usual, was hidden by the bottom of her jacket. Her legs were slender, firm and shapely, but her skirt hid her knees, ending just below her knees, instead of the current more-in style mid-thigh length. Her quick, bright smile was aimed at the house, as she wondered where the owner was. Fighting to keep from frowning, she was rewarded as the house's back door opened. A small, young oriental man held the house's back door open. Andrea nodded to him, saying "Your directions were excellent. Didn't have a bit of problem finding this place, but you were right - it's definitely in the country. There's not another house for at least a mile. I love it's solitude." The man politely smiled as he looked at his watch. Seven minutes past the scheduled time. This was the person that his grandfather told him to expect - the host. Smiling at her, he started his sales pitch to rent the house to her "The house belongs to my grandfather and he doesn't like to see it sit empty. While I was waiting for you, I called him. He told me to cut the rent in half for the first six months and take it off the market." She looked at the two-story farmhouse, pleased with its rural setting and county charm. It was a house that had been built years before all the houses were built from the same blueprints. Staring at the little back porch, with its wooden screen door and freezer sitting on the porch, she knew that it was the type of remote country place that she had been looking for. "I can easily afford the rent, so money's not an issue. I'm looking for a place to live for a year while I prepare for my next art show, where I don't have to worry about neighbors butting in or being sociable. I really don't care what the inside looks like, now that I see it's location. I'll rent your house and accept your reduced rent." ****** The guard sitting at the monitor station, stared at the silent monitor, knowing that his co-worker was explaining the mandatory rules to the visitor, knowing that the visitor knew the rules as well as either of them. Augustus's expensive lawyer visited at least once a week even though they were on the last appeal processes available that would be officially turned down soon, ending his long stay on Death Row. The guard zoomed in his camera so that he could look at the expensive clothes that the lawyer wore, knowing that the clothes were bought with funds from defending this thief. The guard sneered as he stared at the lawyer's expensive double-breasted suit of the finest cloth, with a beautiful gold silk tie around the neck of his perfectly white starched shirt. His shoes were the finest Italian leathers which seemed out of place in the jail cell. Pulling his camera back to wide angle, he propped his feet up on the counter, and watched as the other guard left the room, then flipped the switch that shut the door. Staring at the monitor, he watched the movement of their lips, wondering what they had to say to each other. Within the cell, Augustus asked "Well?" "I can't keep coming here and risk becoming involved in your nefarious schemes. You've got to get someone else to do your dirty work." Augustus hissed "Listen you stupid fucker, I pulled your ass out of that phony land scandal and taught you how to make real money. As long as I have proof that you made over three million dollars that you haven't reported to the IRS, you're going to work for me. As a lawyer, you know when the guards are jerking your chain and how to ensure that they don't eavesdrop on us, so you're the best man to be my only contact with the outside world. How's the old man's ritual coming?" "Apparently the old man's got his mumbo-jumble figured out and selected a location. His grandson's visit to me today, informed me that the must-do clock starts tomorrow morning and only lasts three nights. If not started by the third night, it will be eighty-four days before it can be attempted again, with the next opportunity being one hundred and forty-two days after that. I don't think that you'll be around seven months from now, the way that your appeal is going. You might even want to consider forgoing the demonstration and trying the old man's magic this time. Are you sure that you can sneak the old man's herbs in here?" "Yea, my brother's got it all worked out for 25 grand. I'll have the gook's fucking herbs by breakfast tomorrow morning. Stuff looks like course ground pepper and we'll hide it in a pepper shaker that I'm allowed to keep in my cell." "John, this is an extremely risky venture that you're contemplating. It's further compounded by doing it twice, risking the guards monitoring you very closely when you start going into the unexplained comas. Why don't you go first and if you want your friend to escape also, let him go last. It'll reduce the chance of them stopping you." "You fucking asshole. I'm not sure that I really want to do this. I would prefer to walk out of here a free man - yeah, a free man, wearing my own clothes, in my own body. As long as there's one slight chance that my sentence can be overturned on a technicality, then I'm going to wait for the jurisprudence solution. When all other options are turned down, then I put myself into the old man's hands and his mysterious far eastern herbs. Where's this place where the exchange will take place." "The kid wouldn't tell me. When I asked him, he only replied that we can't interfere and must stay away until the exchange was completed." "Yeah, well, we're going to stay away. Fuck him. I want someone there to make sure that she doesn't pick up and run away. I have to make sure that this exchange works and that it's a permanent exchange. Find out where this house is and put a couple of trusted men there to watch out for my interests. Make sure that they don't interfere unless she tries to run away." Chapter 2 - An Understanding between crooks "...so everything's set up for this ritual. I know that you've said that you would do it, but now that it's time to really do it, what are you going to do, Bob?" Through the bars of their adjoining cells, Bob Williams whispered back "I'm not like you and there's no chance for me to get out on a technicality, so I'm going to try anything - no matter how wild or dangerous it is. I'm your man." "Yeah, but soon, you'll be a woman - a woman with a clean slate -free to do whatever you desire. Does the sex change bother you?" "Nah, I wound up in reform school when I was a kid back in the Bronx - a kid that was much too cute and small for his own good. As a young kid, I found out the hard way that a dick up your ass, ain't going to kill you. After learning to stop resisting their advances, my life greatly improved when I became the prison girlfriend of one of the older gang leaders. For over two years of reform school, I became a woman at night to serve my man or whomever he wanted to reward with my young and tight body. Don't get me wrong. My only choice back then, was to use my body to service men or die. I did what I had to do to live. If you'd seen me back then, you'd thought that I was a flaming Homo, so good did I act the part that they expected from me. Did I ever tell you about him?" "No." "My boyfriend was the primordial, conquering male stereotype who believe in taking what he wanted. I tried to resist at first, but it was no use. He played with me and toyed with me until he was ready to ravage me. He pulled some strings so we were alone in the Laundry Room. Before I knew it, his arms were around my waist, his lips pressed firmly to mine. I tried to resist, but couldn't as his heavier body held my body pinned beneath his. I still remember the first taste of his lips. They felt so rough, not like a woman's lips at all. After I quit struggling, I knew that I had lost my virginity when I felt his firm moist tongue penetrate my lips. I enjoyed his roughness, the feel of his unshaven face on my neck - and when I felt his hungry mouth on my nipple, I surrendered, completely submitting my mind and body to his heated desire. Later, I became embarrassed when I felt his firm cock pressing against my naked belly; but I quickly began to relax and even enjoy the feeling of his balls slapping against my ass. Afterwards - well there was no further reason to struggle, and I found the situation to be a pleasant one. So I obeyed his royal highness and held my head up as proudly as I could. I kept a big smile on my face and made sure that I kept him happy." "Sounds like you didn't have too much of a choice." "Only being allowed to live versus a quick death. So today, I don't have to deal with any mental barriers in my mind about putting on a skirt or doing a blow job on a cock. I won't be effeminate but I'll be the fucking slut that every man desires to have in his bed. My personal preference is that I'm the one eating pussy, instead of the pussy being me. I can handle a cock shoved in my face and if I have to metamorphosis myself into a fucking whore to escape here, then I can do a very good imitation of a bitch in heat. I just hope that my new body is a hard-bodied young female with a halo of fluffy blonde hair and a face like an angel, with a nice set of tits. What are you going to do, when it's your turn?" "Good fucking question. I don't know. I've always led a - shall I say, celibate life. I preferred the joy of having life or death power over someone; rather than the momentary thrust and bump of fucking. While my cohorts in whatever the venture of the moment was, were celebrating by spending their hard earned money on women, I was saving my money, using my money to buy me expanded power. I had a lot of bimbos that hung around me because I was Mister Big, that sucked me off at my desk while my men watched, but I could take the pussy or leave it. I was rather disappointed when my initial research into the old man's magic, revealed that I would have to become a woman and then the old man confirmed it. That's why I'm waiting - hoping that I can walk out of here a free man, instead of having to escape to a life where I have to flounce my ass around while my boobs jiggle and men ogle me. If that's the only way that I can get out of here - then I'll do it. That new body shape and lifestyle are going to take a little time to get used to, but I'll adjust eventually. After all, I'll still be a human with two arms, two legs, a head, the ability to reason and most of all - I'll be alive. There'll be some slight changes in taking care of my personal appearance. It'll just take longer to brush my hair and instead of shaving my face - well, I'm not really looking forward to wearing makeup. I've been telling myself that being a woman isn't that much difference from being a man. The breasts may get in the way, but I suspect that it'll be in the bathroom where I notice the most difference when I have to take a piss. But I'll adjust - just as I've adjusted to being a prisoner here in this hell hole. Having sex with a man is probably going to be the most difficult hurdle to overcome. And that's why .." He said pausing to look at his cigar as he spun it around in his fingers. Putting the cigar back into his mouth, he continued ".I'm probably going to be a lesbian. I'll kill any man that comes near me, thinking that he's going to fuck me." On the other side of the wall, Williams laughed "It's not that bad. Once your hormones kick in, you'll probably change your mind. It's not as bad as you think it is. After all half of the population on earth enjoy it from that perspective. From a psychology viewpoint, every person has an inner self and I've heard you let your inner self out sometimes when we talk, as we're talking now. Most of the time, you project a strong, masculine `I don't give a fuck' image but every once in awhile, you let the real you loose. I've heard your deeply buried feminine side of your personality speak. I've heard and understood your intuitive, emotional side, your `inner woman,' speak to me many times. There's a soft side of you, a side that desires to expose it's self to the world - that you've hidden all your life. When you decided years ago that you were going to be this super criminal, you tried to suppress your inner self - causing your feminine emotion to remain in eternal conflict. John, we've talked to each other about things that we'd never discussed with anyone else on earth. I know you and think that you're secretly glad that it's a woman's body that you're going to inherit. I think that you were getting tired of your `top of the hill' daily existence and were looking for a way to get out when you got caught. I think that you wanted to leave the big city and go live on a farm, listening to the ducks quack and knowing that your neighbor isn't going to shoot you. I think that when you wake up in a woman's body and discover the freedom that it brings you, that you'll turn into one hell of a woman - a woman that can't get enough cock." Augustus laughed as he replied "I must be getting soft in my old age. In the old days, I would've shot you for saying that and all I'm doing is sitting here on my ass on the cold concrete floor, with my back leaned against the bars, nodding my head in agreement with your different points. I've given it some serious thinking and have concluded that when I do become a woman, I won't be one of those silly, effeminate, giggling sluts. There's no way that I'll step daintily out of a car, then walk with the quickest and tiniest mincing little steps down the sidewalk. One of my men's wife used to piss me off with her exuberance and exaggerated motions. I can still see her, lifting her hands up to both sides of her face, her face all aglow with a wide open face of wonder or mock alarm as she exclaimed in her loud and shrill voice. I fucked her once. Didn't want to but I had to show her that she belonged to me. Pissed her husband off, but he soon forgot about it. No, if I'm going to be a woman, I'm not going to be a silly nilly." "Have you ever had sex with a man?" asked Williams with a smile on his face, knowing that just asking the question would be considered an insult. "When I was younger, I did an all-night train on a prostitute with one of my friends. She was his woman and I started in her mouth and then we swapped around. She was using her hands to jack us both off and she pulled us together so that she could rub our cockheads against each other's cock. We both got off three or four times. That's the closest that I've ever been to another man's cock." Replied Augustus after several seconds. "Yeah, but how about sex with a man. Tell me the truth - Dead Man Walking to another Dead Man Walking truth which the purest truth possible. I know that you've not had sex - except with yourself - since you wound up on Death Row. But did you have sex while you were in the common prison during your trial? That's someplace where it's very easy to get buggered or to allow yourself to cross over that imaginary line. After all if the hole's tight and lubricated, it provides the same relief to your cock." "I had a small army of incarcerated felons protecting me. I've cause a lot of people to die over the years and there were several people that wanted to silence me; so I needed protection. Jamie, who headed up my jail- house guards, brought me a small man one night who sucked me off twice. Aside from that, I've never let a man touch me." Williams voice changed to a low whisper "Who do you think about when you masturbate at night? Have you day-dreamed about getting it on with a man? Maybe getting in on with your old buddy - me - or maybe even one of the guards. Mahoney's got a nice tight ass and I'll bet he's also got a big cock tucked between his legs." There was no answer for ten seconds then Augustus responded "I don't like this. I'm going to take a nap." Williams laughed "Did I get you all aroused, old man?" "NO! SHUT THE FUCK UP." As a clanking sound indicated something metallic - a coffee cup? - was hurled across the small cell. "I still love you and I'll be waiting for you outside - thanks to your generosity for letting me participate in your escape and for letting me go first. I'll be your lesbian lover and I'll teach you how to suck a cock. Not only will I teach you about sex, but I'll teach you how to be a woman - how to wear a bra can be a very complex learning experience. I'll show you how to be a sexpot - we'll go to bars and pick up men. I can see you now as a bar girl with a slit skirt sitting on a stool, your lips all painted and drooling as you look at the bulge in a cowboy's jeans. If you want to be more passive, I'll dress you as a barbarian slave with a dog collar around your neck - I can see you now, down on your knees, wanting and needing the touch of your master as he stands above you with his whip." There was a hissing, angry sound to John's voice as he angrily responded "Do you know why I'm letting you go first, when my execution is so close? It's because you're the one fucking bastard that I can talk to. My brother's helping me on this, knowing that I'll be in his power forever and very helpless. I need someone that I can trust and talk to. You're an asshole and I think that you'll fuck up a wet dream - but you understand me. You're right about a lot of things. I want out of my gangster life and I want a new life. I want to fall in love, get married and have a family. I would prefer to be the male and be in my body but I'll take whatever I can get. I'll learn to do the woman's work while he does the guy type things. I'll learn to clean the house, do the laundry and make dinner while he keeps my grass cut, takes out the trash every week, and spends our weekends watching sports on television. I'll be a woman, but I won't be a slut or babe. I'll be a lady -- a lady of obvious grace and dignity as I raise my family. Yeah, you're right. I do masturbate and occasionally think about men, wishing that I really was a woman. But most of my masturbation's are about women." "Been there - done that also." "I've been lonely all my life. More alone than it is here in this ten by twelve foot cell. When I was king of the mountain and had anything that I wanted, I was very lonely. I wasn't shy but women made themselves easily available for me just because of who I was. I really wanted to go find someone that didn't know me and see if I could have a real date - to take her out for a nice dinner, a little dancing and a lot of friendly talking. I'm looking at this as a chance to correct the things that I did wrong. To live my life as someone else." The sound of boots approaching, stopped their discussion. The boots stopped outside Williams cell. Augustus didn't turn his head, knowing the distinctive sound of each guard's different stride; recognizing Officer Mahoney's walk. He leaned back against the bars, his cigar sticking obscenely out of his mouth as he listened to the guard talking to Williams. "Your lawyer wishes to visit you tomorrow. Any objections?" "No, I need a good laugh so let him come on in." After the guard walked away, Williams said softly "Did you ever notice how firm Mahoney's butt is?" After five seconds of reflection on his answer, Augustus responded simply "Yes." Chapter 3 - Andrea - Day One Putting her newspaper down, Andrea ran her hands through her long dark hair that hung freely down her shoulder blades. She was sitting on the front porch swing that overlooked the farmland acres that surrounded the farm. She was dressed in only her silk pajamas as she enjoyed the morning air and the silence of the countryside. On the floor beside the swing, were yesterday's newspaper and the coffee pot. She had been here at the farm for a week now and had quickly adjusted to her solitude. Every morning, she would arise at 7 a.m., turn the coffee pot on, use the bathroom, fix some toast and then sit on the porch, drinking her coffee while she read the previous day's local newspaper that she collected from the mailbox during the previous day's afternoon hour-long walk. It was the typical small- town newspaper that was full of the local gossip and only a little national news, which suited her purposes. After the leisurely breakfast, she would shower, put on her jeans and sweatshirt, turn the stereo on with its stack of CDs loaded into the jukebox, and adjourn to the living room. She didn't use it as a living room, but as a studio for her paintings. Against one wall were thirty some canvasses of artwork in different phases of completion. Every morning, she would pick a different canvas and work on it until two p.m.; when she would fix a light lunch, then change clothes into a jogging outfit, complete with a baseball cap to hide her hair and sunglasses. Then she would go for a leisurely walk through the country dirt roads for an hour; picking up the newspaper on her return. She had loaded the dining room with exercise equipment so she spent the next hour working out; followed by a leisurely bath. A small snack for dinner and then two more hours working on her artwork, before she retired to her bedroom, to read a portion of one of the sixty plus books that she had purchased in anticipation of her new reclusive live. She intended to live a hermit's life for the year that she planned to be at the old farmhouse. Her expensive clothes were carefully packed away and she had purchased a new wardrobe of blue jeans and casual sweatshirts - clothes that none of her friends would ever believe that she would be caught dead in, much less wear. Her normally perfect styled and tightly pinned hair was allowed to hang free, controlled only by a rubber band forming a ponytail or her baseball cap when she was out walking. She was here to paint and to relax. ****** Two guards pushed a cart down the corridor, stopping at each occupied cell only long enough to slide a food tray through a narrow slot at the base of the cell's bars. John Augustus stared at his covered tray, knowing what was supposed to be on his tray, worried that it wasn't. He sat on his bunk, listening to the guards drop their tray's off to the six occupants of the prison's death row. When the guards finished their delivery rounds, John picked up his tray and placed it on his small table. Removing the lid, his face lit up with a big grin as he saw that the normal clear salt and pepper shakers had been added to his breakfast tray. While it was normal for the items to be on each prisoner's tray, it wasn't normal for the shakers to have their tops reversed. So that the salt shaker had a top where the punched holes were in the shape of the letter P and the pepper shaker's holes were in the shape of the letter S. He quickly swapped the caps on his shakers, then picked up the set of salt and pepper shakers that he was allowed to keep in his cell, to flavor his snacks that he was allowed. Exchanging his shakers with the new shakers, he walked to the corner of his cell that adjoined prisoner 14879's cell. Whispering loudly, he said "You see it?" A couple of seconds later, a hushed whisper from the other cell replied "Yeah. I'll add it to my dinner." John Augustus returned to his small table and started eating his breakfast, thinking about how enjoyable tomorrow's breakfast should be. ****** The book was titled "Nomadic Paintings - A Wanderer's Odyssey through the Sahara". Sticking out of the top of the book were several yellow stickie notes, where she had marked the pages that she was interested in. She was wearing her pajamas, and was propped up with several pillows so that she could study the book's glossy photographs of the crude art, seeking details or procedures that she could include in her own art. Beside her on the nightstand, was a glass of freshly squeezed juice. She liked to sip on fresh juice as she read her bedtime books. It had taken her a full day to decorate her new bedroom, turning it into the feminine retreat that she liked. Her bed covers and curtains had matching frills and flounces, and matched the pastel color that she had painted the room her first day in the farmhouse. Topping off the carefully planned frilly bedroom, was the scent of the sweet, spicy potpourri that she used to add that special little fresh smell. For her new bedroom, she had looked for a bed with a canopy, finally giving up when she realized that the ceiling was too low for the type of canopy that she wanted. Beside her bed was a stack of romance novels that she planned to alternate with her work books. ****** The cell lights were turned out, but the cell's interior was dimly illuminated by the corridor's night light, used by the guards during their sleep time hourly rounds. John was in his bed, listening to the faint sounds of the very quiet Death Row, hearing the very faint sounds of someone's loud snoring. Bob had already consumed a small portion of the herbs with his supper meal. John and Bob had talked through the bars as they normally did every evening, being careful to change the subject as the guards made their rounds every fifteen minutes. While the potential body exchange would only last for an hour, if it worked, there were a lot of things that Bob had to do during his brief periods in the host's body. They had carefully and thoughtfully worked out the details of what had to be done, to prepare for John's follow-up exchange. ****** In the dark room, Andrea's eyes suddenly opened as a light gasp escaped her lips. For five seconds, she didn't move as her eyes adjusted to the dark and she made sure that she was awake. Rolling over under the covers, she searched for a nightstand, feeling the hard wooden top with her hand; searching the nightstand top until she found the bedside light's base. Her hand probed the light until she discovered the on-off switch. Switching the light on, brightened the room, hurting her eyes that were used to the darkness. Shutting her eyes and then peering through the slightly slit eyes, she stared at the bedroom, observing that she was alone in the very feminine bedroom. A roguish, weird, exuberant smile formed on her face as she sat up in the bed, her long dark hair hanging down over her face. With a quick jerking move, she cupped her breasts, finding the abundant evidence of female breasts on her chest. Then still cupping her breasts, she fell back on her pillow, a loud maniacal laugh emitting from her lips. ****** "Psssssssstt. Psssssstt. John" Came the husky whisper through the fog of sleep. John opened his eyes, recognizing that he had fallen asleep. Throwing the light blanket off himself, he fumbled as he walked over to the cell corner, his body still drugged with sleep. Pressing his face against the bar, he responded in a whisper "I'm here." "The fucking shit worked. I woke up in a cunt's body - some wanta-be artist named Bell. I went through her pocketbook and found her driver's license. She's from Utah, but it sure don't look like Utah outside the house." "Good. Do you know how long you were in her body?" "Nah, I got so excited with being outta jail - being free, that I forgot to do what we planned. Tell you how excited I was, as soon as I realized it wasn't a fucking dream and I was really in someone else's body, I peed in the bed. Didn't mean to do it, but my bladder just - well, I peed." "What does she look like?" "Beautiful. She's tall and skinny, but she's one attractive dame. I didn't find any pictures of her all fixed up, but looking at her face in the mirror, she looks like she can be a beautiful woman when she's fixed up. She's got a closet of expensive clothes so she must have money. I didn't see any evidence of any boyfriend." "Does she appear healthy and viable for our project?" "Yeah. She got a nice set of knockers. I pulled the pajama top off and looked at her naked boobs in the mirror. I've always been a breast man, and having my own mammaries was heavenly. The nipples were tremendously sensitive - I just had to pinch, roll and suck them. I discovered that my lips could reach them if I worked at it. And she's got a nice, thick mound of dark, curly pubic hair. If I woke up in bed with her, I'd fuck her." "Did you call my brother and identify yourself?" "Naw, I got so involved in checking her body out that time slipped away from me. Haa,ha,ha,ha." He laughed. "What's so fucking funny?" "I stuck my finger up my cunt - just to see what it felt like - while I was in the bathroom and - she ain't no virgin, but she's got one tight pussy. It was the weirdest thing to be looking in the mirror and seeing this naked bitch finger fuck herself and to know that it was really me." "You stupid asshole, I told you to save that personal exploring for when you had more time. You were supposed to call my brother and tell him how to find you." "No one's going to find her. She's out in the fucking boonies. They had cows outside the house. I looked inside her purse, but there ain't nothing in there with that address on it." "Did you see any mail - a newspaper, by chance?" "No mail, but there were some newspapers stacked up downstairs in the living room. She's a fucking artist. One of those landscape painters. Wonder if she's got a lot of money?" "You have to find out where she is and call my brother. Then he'll arrange to be outside the following night. After you prove to him that he watching the correct body, he'll make sure that she doesn't leave until that body is permanently your body. No fucking around tonight - do what you're told. Understand!!!" he commanded in an angry hiss. "Yeah, ok, I hear you. I'm going do it - I just got all caught up with being out of jail for the first time in three years and in a woman's body." "Understand, but the purpose of having a plan is so that we both know what to do during the limited time that you're in her body. Did you put her body back in bed and clean up the mess that you made?" There was a long silence and then Bob replied "Yes." "You fucking liar. Don't lie to me or I'll find some way to kick your ass. What did you do?" "I was playing with myself in the bathroom - then next thing I know, I'm back here in my body. So I guess that I left her naked body in the bathroom." "You fucking moron" he yelled, not caring who heard him. The sound of John cussing Bob loudly, attracted the attention of the guard. John was cussing loudly as the guard walked down to his cell. "It's after hours. Do you want to lose your exercise room privileges for tomorrow?" the guard asked, shining his flashlight through the bars. The guard observed an angry John Augustus sitting in the corner of his cell, mumbling to himself. Highlighted by the guard's flashlight, the prisoner bit his lip before he responded "Sorry. I had a nightmare and walked in my sleep." "Go back to bed or I'll write you up. I don't care who you think you're or how much money you have. I'm someone that you can't bribe." The guard declared, resting his hand on his Mace can, hoping that he would be given the opportunity to use it on this particular prisoner. John reached into his pocket, found a cigar, put the un-lit cigar in his mouth, and looked at the guard's face. A cruel smile formed around the un-lit cigar hanging from his mouth as he softly said "Why, Officer Mahoney. I didn't recognize you. It's been awhile since we've had the opportunity to chat. Tell me, did you ever find out who killed your dog and hung it on your clothesline? You must live in a trailer park where some pretty unsavory characters live." "SHUT UP AND COMPLY WITH MY ORDERS." The guard angrily declared as he grasped his mace, resisting the strong impulse to spray the asshole who he thought had ordered his dog's killing, to revenge the time that his exercise privileges had been revoked for a week. Another guard's voice echoed down the hallway "Officer Mahoney, any problems?" "No" responded Augustus in a loud voice that he knew would reach the other guard's ears. "Officer Mahoney was kind enough to inquire about my health. I had a small nightmare and did some sleepwalking, but everything's ok now. Good night." He stood, looking at the young, muscular guard, knowing that he would never survive a fight with him. But that's why he was in prison - because he had other means to battle people, ways that involved money and guns. The young guard hadn't taken the hint with his dog, so stronger methods would be applied to get him on Augustus' team. Lying back down on his bed, Augustus listened to the sound of the guard's steel-toed boots clicking on the corridor floor as he returned to his office. Taking a deep breath to concentrate on his immediate problem, John thought about what he was going to have to do, to bring Bob back into line - to coerce him to comply with their plans, but not make an enemy. John still had the cigar in his mouth, enjoying the taste of the tobacco, wishing that he could light it, but knowing that if he did during this non-smoking time, he would lose his smoking privileges again. ****** It was still dark outside, but a slightly shivering Andrea Bell was sitting on her porch, sipping her coffee, trying to recover her composure. She had experienced the weirdest nightmare - so bad that she sleepwalked, undressed herself and obviously played with herself. She woke up to discover that she was lying naked on the cold tiled floor of her bathroom, her body flushed as if she had been exercising - and most mysteriously of all, her finger was coated with her jism - and her vagina - her dripping and swollen vagina was obviously stimulated. Walking down the hall to her bedroom, she observed that all of the lights in the house were turned on. Going through the rooms turning off the lights one at a time, she discovered that the front door was standing wide open and the door unchained - a chain that could only be removed from the inside. She rushed back to the kitchen, hurriedly opening a drawer, seeking a long, sharp knife to use as a weapon. Carrying her knife, she re-traced her steps through the whole house, checking it to make sure that she was alone. When she finished her search in her bedroom, she noticed that her bedsheet was soaking wet. Examining the spot, she smelled the strong scent of urine - her bed and brand new mattress had recently been peed on. That's why she was sitting in the dark on the porch. She was dressed in her pajamas and robe, but beside her coffee cup was the knife that she still carried around. ****** John sat patiently at his table, waiting for the guards to bring Bob back from his turn in the exercise yard. When he was back in his cell, it was normal for the prisoners to talk to each other through their cells. Hearing the clank of the outside door opening, he pretended to read his bible. After the four guards escorted the handcuffed Bob Williams to his cell and secured him in his cell, they spent a few minutes preparing the prisoner a few cells further away, then escorted that other prisoner outside to the exercise yard. As soon as the door clanked behind them, John pressed his face against the cell bars "Bob, I'm sorry that I got mad at you this morning. Neither one of us understood the different emotions and feelings of what it's like to be free and in a different body - especially in a female body. We can modify our plans so that you contact my brother on your fourth night - that'll be soon enough. That'll give you four hours to explore your new body, look around the house and then call him." "Yeah, that'll work. I don't know what came over me last night. I intended to pick up the phone and call but when I saw that naked pussy reflected in the mirror, I just had to play with it. I ain't had any pussy in over three years and it was calling me. Daring me to touch it - to finger myself. As soon as I touched my little slit, I lost all control and couldn't help myself. I was still aroused when I woke up back in my real body. Did you hear me last night when you and Mahoney were arguing?" "No, I didn't hear nothing." "Well, I did it - I couldn't help myself. I was hearing you two argue and all I could think about, was the delicious taste and wonderful feel of that woman's pussy - my new pussy. It was a very tight pussy so I know that she doesn't have a steady boyfriend. I put my finger in it, enjoying the feel of my long slender finger snaking deep inside my dry cunt. Within a few seconds of stroking myself, I was feeling the most wonderful feeling as my body lubricated itself for my finger. I couldn't help myself and tasted the juice that now coated my finger - it was truly the nectar of the gods. While I sucked my finger clean, my other hand was ramming deep inside me - then I swapped fingers. I was jerking myself off - then the next thing I knew, I was lying in my cell. Sitting on the floor, talking to you, my cock got awful hard as I remembered what it felt like. Then the guard heard us. While Officer Mahoney was playing the big man with you, I was using the time by sitting on the floor, silently pounding my pud, thinking about her pussy. Then after he went back to his desk, I pumped my cum through the bars onto the corridor floor." John shook his head, biting his tongue to keep from expressing his anger. Then through clinched teeth, he mumbled "Yeah, I've done the same thing." ****** Andrea wasn't following her normal routine. She was still slightly upset but now that it was broad daylight, her nighttime terror had subsided somewhat. She had checked all of her windows, ensuring that they were locked and that the house didn't have any secret entrances that she didn't know about. She even checked the attic. After she had satisfied herself that there was no way that anyone could enter the house without breaking a window or kicking the door of the hinges, she stripped her bed sheets, throwing all of her bed clothes into the washing machine, as she aired out her brand new mattress, trying to get rid of the fresh urine smell. Chapter 4 - Andrea - Day Two through Four She had awaken about four a.m. and felt strange. Stirring slightly, she felt a slight twinge of discomfort between her thighs. Turning on the nightstand light, she smelled a familiar odor. It was her own body smell - the strong smell of sex. Holding her hand in front of her face, she smelled the strong residue of her sometimes musky vagina on her fingers. Flexing her legs slightly, she felt a slight tenderness within her genitalia that she recognized as being caused by rough masturbation. Sitting up in her bed, she recognized another indication - her breasts were extremely tender and her nipples were still turgid, sticking out from being manipulated. Laughing out loud, she had proclaimed to herself "Not only am I sleepwalking, but I'm masturbating myself. Andrea Bell, it's a good thing that your mother's not here to see you doing this foolish and childish school girl self-mutilation." Throwing the covers off herself, she walked to the bathroom to wash the smell from her fingers. As she soaped her hands, she glanced in the mirror, seeing something that scared her. Her lips were thickly coated with lipstick. She hadn't put any lipstick on since the day that she moved in over a week ago. And she would never wear it that thick. How had her lips got coated with lipstick? Feeling her legs grow rubbery, she sat down on the commode, her mind panicking as she tried to reason how she could have put lipstick on. Jumping to her feet, she jerked the medicine cabinet open, staring at the tube of lipstick she kept there. For thirty seconds, she just stared at it, knowing it was the shade that was on her lips. Not only had she masturbated herself in her sleep, but she had also walked down to the bathroom and put lipstick on her lips. Feeling a strong need to cleanse herself, she locked the bathroom door and jumped into the shower, washing herself as she stared through the foggy, misty, shower glass, at the bathroom door. During her whole shower, she didn't take her eyes off the bathroom door - afraid that some monster would burst in any second. ****** The sound of someone groaning woke Augustus up. For a few seconds, he was slightly lost until he realized that he was in his cell. He could hear the sounds of someone's bedsprings squeaking as they masturbated themselves and some heavy breathing. Because it was so loud in the quiet corridor, it could only come from one place - the next cell where Bob Williams lived. Rolling over and covering his head with his pillow, John tried to drown out the sounds of his friend's masturbation, recognizing that the man must have just returned from being in her body. This time, he had two hours to explore her body. John mumbled something under his breath, as he wished that he really knew what Bob was doing - was he leaving everything in place so that the woman wasn't aware that her body was being invaded every night for an increasing number of hours? ****** All of the house's interior and exterior lights were on. Andrea was sitting at the kitchen table, not at her usual spot, but so that her back was in a corner. On the table in front of her, was a large pot of fresh, strong coffee. She was wearing only her pajamas and some running shoes; her wet hair was frizzed up where she hadn't taken the time to dry or brush it. After drying off from her shower, she had picked up her pajamas and realized that there were no panties in the pajamas that she had hurriedly pulled from her body. She distinctly remembered leaving her panties on as she dressed for bed the previous night. Somehow, she had taken her pajama bottoms off, removed her panties, walked to the bathroom, put lipstick on her lips, and then masturbated herself before putting her pajama's bottom back on and going back to sleep. She had found her panties on the floor on the other side of her bed. ****** "Boobs feel funny when they jiggle. I don't see how a woman walks around all day with their tit's flopping up and down. Just a few minutes of it last night and I was very aroused." "You didn't do anything that would make her suspicious, did you?" "Nah. I undressed her body and looked at it again in the mirror, checking out her titties and pussy. She's got a nice ass on her but she's beginning to get some of those funny looking skin marks on her butt - what do you call it - cellulite? Don't get me wrong - it's a hell of a nice body that you'd have to be crazy to turn down. I've been know to dip my wand in some pretty ugly pussies after getting drunk. She doesn't fit that category - I guess that you can describe her as a classy woman. I remember staring at my new image as I brushed my hair, watching all that beautiful long hair cascading over my shoulders in the mirror. Her breasts are masterpieces, soft, proud, and delicious enough to get the Pope horny." "Good. Well, you have to be careful to not do anything to make her suspicious that something is occurring to her during her sleep. It would be difficult to complete the exchange if she was the slightest aware that anything is happening to her." "You can depend on me. I'm behaving myself. Hey, I found out the name of the town. One of those stacked- up newspapers, had the name of the town. A little place call Berryville Virginia. Did you ever hear of it?" "No, but by tomorrow morning, I'll have someone nearby in a hotel. Here's what you need to do tonight." ****** Andrea walked into the town's only drugstore. It was a combination drugstore, hardware store, and coffee shop. Sitting at the coffee counter were several of the old men that had no where to go and used this as the social center of their daily life. She was wearing blue jeans, running shoes, an oversized sweatsuit, sunglasses, and a baseball cap pulled down so that her face could barely be seen. She ignored their glances, knowing that they would talk about her as soon as she was out of hearing. She found the aisle with the over-counter sleep remedies and stared at her limited choice. Selecting two of the boxes that she was familiar with, through the mass advertising campaigns, she quickly walked to the store's only cash register, which was beside the coffee counter. She placed her purchase on the counter and waited while the clerk rang it up. One of the old men sitting at the counter asked "You wouldn't be that woman who's rented the Jarvison place, would you be?" "I don't know the name Jarvison. I'm renting a house near here." She replied, wishing that the clerk would hurry. "Big, white, two story house out in the country, just past the river bridge?" "Yes, that's it." "Know it quite well. I'm Ralph Emerson and I live two houses past you on the right. Feel free to stop by and meet the missus. We've lived here all of our lives and would be glad to have you and your husband come by for dinner." "I'm not married." She said, picking up her change, smiling a nervous smile at the old man, and walking out of the store quickly before he could ask any more questions. ****** Andrea was sitting at the table, crying. The previous night, she had taken a strong dose of her sleep medication and gone to bed, drifting off to sleep finally. She woke up and discovered that her body pajamas were coated with sweat. Sitting up in her bed, she saw that it was five a.m. She held her hand up to her fa