One Night at Magees
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Saturday Night At Magees free porn video
For those who've been kind enough to ask, anther story of Simon's bar.
This story may be posted to any free site.
Saturday Night at Magees
by Ellie Dauber
copyright 1999
It was a busy night at Magees.
Saturday is always a busy night for a bar. People want to be with other
people. They can relax because they don't have to go to work the next
day. For some, it's the chance to be with friends. Others are doing the
preliminaries of meeing and mating. A few just like to drink.
This Saturday, though, it seemed busier than ususal. Sally, Simon's main
waitress had to do the work of two, since it was the bar's first day
without Mandy.
Mandy was Simon's junior waitress. A short, friendly red-head with the
uncanny knack of getting just about every guy in the place to think of her
as his kid sister. Her husband, Rick, had come back Wednesday from a
three year stint in the Aleutians with the Navy. He wanted something
warmer after that experience. So, following a wild, happy going-away
party here at the bar (thrown by Simon, of course), he and Mandy had
done just that. They'd moved back to Rick's hometown, San Antonio,
where he already had a job as an electronics technician waiting for him.
The problem was that Rick had come back six weeks early, and Simon
hadn't had time to hire even a temporary replacement. Sally tried hard,
even cut back on her flirting with the customers a little in the interest of
time. But she couldn't quite be in three places at once.
Simon had filled in for a while. Then Dr. Fran offered to take over,
while Simon helped Matt at the bar. Fran was a GP, new to the
neighborhood, but already well liked. Her office was over in the
shopping center a half mile or so from Magees.
She admitted a while back that she worked her way through college as a
waitress. She didn't say where, but a few of the regulars had a private
bet that her boss was a guy named Hefner. She's in her, well, I won't say
how old, but she still looks damn good. Simon thinks so, too, but that's a
whole different story.
Dr. Fran had come in about 8. She knew aboutMandy leaving. Heck,
she'd been at the going away party. When she saw how busy it was, she
asked Sally for a pad and took her own order. Then she just started on
some of the other tables.
With an extra bartender and a substitute waitress in place, things settled
down to their usual Saturday night chaos. There was a fairly involved
discussion at one section of the bar about the current pennant race, and a
few die-hards were even talking about a subway series in New York. A
couple feet away, some other folks were arguing about the upcoming
Senate race in that state. The two conversations were close enough that a
couple of guys seemed to be in both discussions.
The tables were as crowded as the bar. Besides the usual suspects, I
spotted some folks just out from the cineplex a block or two away, three
guys on their way home from their jobs with a movers, and Vic and
Betty Cantrell.
Vick and Betty lived somewhere in the neighborhood. He was a
salesman for some big company, but he'd been downsized a couple of
months ago and hadn't been able to find a job since. They'd been getting
by on savings and odd jobs, so it was something of a surprise to see them
in Magees.
*****
"I don't know why I let you drag me here," Vic said. "I can hardly afford
to buy myself something to drink. Let alone waste money on you."
"Oh, Vic, come on," Betty said, trying to change the subject. "We
haven't gone out in quite a while. I thought it would be a nice change."
"You thought? Oh, that's just swell." He stopped and looked up as Fran
came to the table. She was a doctor, worked longer hours than he had.
But she still had the time to fix herself up to look pretty. Not like this
doudy old lady he was stuck with.
"Hi, Betty, Vic," Fran smiled. "I haven't seen you two in here for a
while."
"I --" Vic didn't want to admit that he's lost his job.
"We've been busy," Betty chimed in, trying to save face."
"I can tell her," Vic growled. "We've been kind of busy lately."
"Well, I'm glad to see you again. What'll you two have?"
"A pitcher of Bud, please," Betty said. Fran nodded and walked away.
"A pitcher?" Vic said. "And whos' going to pay for it?"
"I will. Cousin Maggie just sent me the money I loaned her last year
when they came to visit, and their car broke down."
"How much?"
"$127.50 You remember. It was some kind of hose that needed
replacement. They were on the way home, and they were short of cash."
"If they sent back the money _we_ loaned them, you should told me."
"I just got the check yesterday, Vic. I cashed it and put most of the
money in the bank. I just kept out a little to spend on us tonight. I was
going to tell you. Honest I was."
"Going doesn't cut it. You get any more money, you tell me right away."
"That's the other easn that I wanted to come her, Vic. I -- I wanted to ask
you something."
"What? Somebody else send us money you didn't tell me about?"
"No, but I know that we do need the money till you can get another job."
"I'm looking. Nobody seems to be hiring right now."
"Mr. Casey is hiring."
"Casey. Who's Casey?"
"Mr. Casey at Alden's Market."
"What does a supermarket need with a salesman?"
"It doesn't. But he does need -- well, Vic, he -- he asked if I'd be
interested in working as a cashier. The money isn't very good, but -"
"No!"
"But why? We do need the money."
"I'm the husband. Earing the money is _my_ job. You think I'm going
to stay home because you can get a jib, and I can't?"
"But I'd only take it to help out. And I promise to quit the day you find
something."
"You make it sound like you don't expect me to."
"No, please, no, Vic. I'm sure that you'll find something very soon. I
just thought --"
"You thought! Who told you you could think? If we have to depend on
you and your thinking to keep us going, we'll be in the poor house inside
of six months."
"But we need the money."
"I'll tell you what we need, you stupid cow." He raised his hand as if to
hit her. He never did, but it was satisfying to him to watch her cower as
if he would.
Only this time, when he raised his hand, someone grabbed his wrist and
held it. Vic turned to see who it was.
"What you need is to come into the back room with me," Simon said.
You are disturbing my friends here in the bar." He said it softly, but
there was an undertone that made it clear to both Vic and Betty that this
was an order, not a request.
The couple stood. Fran was just bringing the beer. Simon turned to her
and said, "Thank you, Fran, but the Cantrells are just leaving. Please
give the pitcher back to Matt."
Fran turned and headed back to the bar. Simon motioned towards the
hallway to his back room. "Over you please, Betty, Vic." Again, it
seemed like an order that they felt compelled to obey. They followed
Simon to the back room. He had a desk against one wall. He offered
Betty the chair near it, sat down on a crate, and motioned for Vic to do
the same.
"Now, what was all of that commotion about?" Simon said.
"None of your damned business," Vic answered.
"Everything that goes on in my establishment is my business. Especially
when it disrupts the mood of my friends."
"I -- I asked Vic if I could get a job," Betty said. "I'm afraid that he
didn't like the idea."
"He should," Simon said. "He's been out of work for quite a while, and I
doubt that his unemployment checks will cover all your expenses."
Vic lept to his feet. "That's it, Betty! What have you been doing?
Spreading out our dirty linen for the whole world to see. I told you I
didn't want anybody to know."
"She did not tell me, Vic. I like to know what's happening in the lives of
my friends, and I counted you among that group until tonight. I make it
a point to _know_."
"Stupid woman still had no business talking." He sat down giving Betty
a scowl that meant there would be trouble later.
"I was just -- I was just trying to help," Betty said, and she began to cry.
"Of all the stupid," Vic said. "Stop crying, you dumb woman." Betty
looked up at Vic and just began to cry harder. Vic raised his hand again,
and she shuttered. She tried, but her crying didn't stop.
Simon rose to his feet. "You have gravely harmed this woman; broken
her --"
"I never hit her!"
"Not her body, perhaps, but you have broken her spirit. She has lost her
free will and is as dependent on you for the emotional support you are
unwilling to give."
"She's my wife. She's supposed to take care of me."
"Marriage is a partnership. Each must help the other bear the troubles
life may cast at them."
During this exchange, Betty had continued to just sit in the chair staring
wide-eyed at the two men. Now she began to sob, softly at first. Then
the crying grew fiercer until her entire body seemed to be shedding the
pain. Simon looked at her for a moment, then turned to Vic.
Vic glared at Simon. "What am I supposed to do," he said. "You're the
one who made her cry like that."
"Then, I should be the one who comforts her," Simon said. He turned
and gently helped Betty to stand. Then he put his arms around her,
letting her head fall onto his shoulder. He hugged her cafefully,
muttering some words that she couldn't begin to understand in her ear.
A strange, somehow comforting warmth seemed to spread through
Betty's body. She still felt the hurt of Vic's words, but more and more it
was as if those were memories of a story, not of her own life. She turned
her head to look at Vic. Somehow, he seemed older than she
remembered.
Vic stared in disbelief. Betty seemed to be getting younger. The grey
was disappearing from her hair, the lines from her face. In a few
moments, they was gone. She seemed a little thinner now, looking like
she was in her early twenties. There was an odd expression on her face,
too, as if she wasn't upset any more and didn't know why. He wanted to
move closer for a better look, but his body refused to move.
Betty got even younger. She looked the way she had when she and Vic
had met in college. Damn, he'd forgotten how beautiful she had been.
Why the hell had she let herself go like she had? She must have known
how much he disliked her looking like she had been.
As Vic watched, Betty continued to grow younger. Now she looked as if
she were in her teens. She was smaller, too. Her head was resting on
Simon's chest, rather than his shoulder. There were some freckles on her
face now, and a curious expression. She didn't seem to know who he
was. Her clothes, strangely enough, continued to fit, shrinking even as
her body did. Her bra adjusted as her breasts grew smaller. The heels on
her shoes became smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing as the
shoes became a pair of flat sandals.
Betty felt her body body relax as it continued to shrink. Something had
been bothering her, but she couldn't remember what. Maybe that man
there, whoever he was. He seemed familiar, but she wasn't really sure.
By now, Betty was no more than twelve. Her womanly curves
diminishing. Her breasts now gradually disappearing back into her
chest. Her body became more angular. Her now unnecessary brassiere
changed under her blouse to a girl's t-shirt. Her panty hose thickened
into a pair of "Little Miss" tights. She still held herself close to Simon's
body, though her once supple arms were now scarely able to reach all the
way behind him.
Simon reached down and picked up the now eight year old girl. She
continued to hold him, now hugging him around the neck. Her hair was
now arranging itself into two pigtails. Somehow, they had little pink
ribbons tied into bows at the end.
The process continued for a minute or so more. Betty's body plumped a
bit as some of her baby fat returned. She blinked her eyes, then closed
them. She was now a five year old sleeping peacefully in Simon's arms.
Suddenly, Vic realized that he could move again. "Great," he said.
"Now I've got a kid to worry about instead of a wife."
"It would seem so," Simon said. "And at her young age, you will have to
take care of her instead of demanding that she take care of you."
"But I don't know anything about taking care of young kids. That's a
mother's job."
Simon smiled. He had hoped that would be the man's reaction. "I'm sure
that you can make the necessary adjustment."
Vic took another step then found that he was trapped within some sort of
circle of light that had formed around him. Simon shifted Betty, freeing
his one arm. He said something in a strange language and began to
gesture with his free hand. As he did, a _something_ formed in his hand,
a shimmer like the air over a concrete road in the hot sun. Simon
stopped speaking and held his hand traight out. The _something_ pulsed
an electric green and flew from his hand toward Vic. It passed through
the wall of light that held him prisoner, hit him in the chest, then sank
down into his body.
Vic clutched at his chest not knowing what to expect.
He felt the _whatever-it-was_ as awarmth inside him, a warmth that
seemed to grow outward, flowing to all parts of his body. He took his
hamds away from his chest and looked at them. They seemed to be
growing smaller. His fingers getting longer and slimmer. As he stared,
he noticed that his nails also seemed to be growing.
He looked up. The room was growing bigger. No, he realized suddenly,
he was shrinking. He shuddered, expecting to repeat what Betty had just
gone through. He wasn't ready to become a five-year old again. But the
process stopped after a few seconds. He was only perhaps a foot smaller
than he had been. He looked down at his body now. He was much
slimmer than he had been. He had never been a Schwarzenegger, but
now he looked like a damned scarecrow. Hisarms were like pipecleaners
sticking out of the sleeves of his sport shirt. Somehow, though, his
clothes did still fit him.
As he stared at his arms, he realized that he had lost his body hair -- at
least what he could see. His arms were hairless and pale. Then they
began to grow a bit more rounded, as if a layer of fat was forming
beneath them.
He saw two small mounds growing out from his chest. Breasts! They
couldn't be. But they were. He touched them, feeling the sensitive
nipples through his shirt. They grew and grew, pushing out his shirt so
that he could actually see his bare stomach.
He shook his head in disbelief. Something bushed against his neck then
moved down onto his back. A hand shot up. Hair! His hair had grown
down onto his shoulders.
He felt a contricting at his waist. He looked down to see the beer belly
that he'd nurtured during his unemployment shrink away. His waist grew
thin enough that he could see his boxer shorts in the space between his
stomach and his pants.
The pants should have fallen as his waist shrank. They did slide down
some, but were stopped as his hips expanded and his butt firmed and
rounded. The pants legs became narrower, then they seemed to fill as his
legs grew round and curvy.
Vic realized that he was somehow becoming a female. He panicked and
reached down into his shorts for his penis. It was there but much
smaller. And shrinking more even as he tried to hold onto it. His other
hand reached down for his balls. They were gone. He could somehow
feel them moving up into his body, becoming part of a woman's
sexuality. The empty sack grew tighter. It shrank down against his
crotch, separating as an opening formed in the middle to become his
vaginal lips. He felt the nub that his penis had become slip down into the
opening to become his clitoris.
He was a woman.
Now his saw his clothing change. His sneakers turned a pale pink. His
pants turned into jeans of a matching color and a feminine cut, tight
against his new crotch and accenting his lush hips and rounded ass. His
sport shirt also turned pink. Scalloped sleeves formed. The neckline
grew until the curve at the top of his new breasts could be seen. He felt
some sort of movement on those breasts and realized that he was now
wearing a bra. He couldn't see it happen, but his boxers had also
transformed into a pair of lacy panties.
"You should know what you are now, _Vickie_," Simon said. The air
shimmered in front of him and became a sort of mirror. He saw a pretty
young woman, perhaps 25 though probably younger. Her blonde hair
was tied back in a ponytail that went halfway down her back. Her make-
up (Make-up! When had that happened?) was subtle, eyeliner and
mascara to give a doelike quality to her eyes, a bit of rouge on her cheeks
and a pale pink lipstick. Her eyebrows were arched slits; her lips rather
full. She looked nothing at all like Vic Cantrell.
"What did you ---" Vic stopped. She didn't sound like Vic either. Her
voice was a pleasant contralto, rather than his beery baritone.
"You said that a child needed a mother to take care of her," Simon said.
"Since you're her only relative in this new life of hers, I gave you the
job."
"And if I don't want it?"
"You don't have the choice. Vic and Betty Cantrell no longer exist. You
remember who you were, but Betty doesn't. As far as she's concerned,
she's Betsy Carver, and you're her Mommy."
"Yeah, right."
"As I said, you have no choice. Tell me your names."
"I'm Vickie Carver. No, I mean Vickie Carver. Carver. Carver. And
that's my daughter, my daughter -- damn you, Simon! -- my daughter,
Betsy."
"That's right. You know who you were, and given time, you'll know
_what_ you were. But he's gone, and I'm the only one that you can talk
to about him. You'll find that you also have a very strong sense, almost a
compulsion, of obligation to little Betsy here. You want to be the best
mother possible to her."
"And how do I do that? I don't know the first thing about being a
woman, let alone a mother. And how do we live if I don't have a job?
At least as Vic, I was still on unemployment."
"You'll find that the knowledge is there. Being a woman is a lot like
being a man. Do your job, try not to hurt anyone, love, laugh; it's all the
same. The specifics for make-up and dresses and heels you'll find that
you also have."
"Now," he continued. "As far as a job. Have you ever waited tables?"
"No, but it doesn't look that hard."
"It isn't. Sally can show you the ropes in no time, especially with Fran
helping tonight."
"What!"
"You need a job. I need a waitress. Fran -- Dr. Fran cannot give up her
practice, just to help me take care of my customers."
"If you were so hard up, why couldn't you have hired me as Vic? Then I
wouldn't be in this new body."
"Vic was one type of person that I'm allowed to discriminate in my
hiring
practices, a rotten human being and a wife-beater."
"I never raised a hand to her."
"A blow to the spirit can do more damage and take longer to heal than
one to
the mind. You excelled in such blows. But now the damage is gone, and
there are no scars because there is no memory of her former life."
"You mean she thinks she's a little girl."
"She _is_ a little girl. Her child's mind had no place for the memories of
an adult, so they have left her mind." Simon paused. "Left her mind for
your own."
Suddenly, Vic's mind was filled with images of the past: Betty growing
up, going to college, meeting him. He remembered their courtship,
seeing it now from her point of view. He felt the love grow within her
and felt the joy when he asked her to marry him.
Then came the terror. Vic had not handled married life very well. He
became frustrated at his life at home, the limitations of having to suport
two people on a single salary. At work, the promotions and recognition
he
sought never came fast enough. And he took out all of that on Betty.
He never had never raised a hand to her. But he had belittled and berated
her at every opportunity and for things that were hardly her fault. She
was
a good wife, and she loved him. She -- oh, Lord -- she blamed herself
for what he was doing to her. She lost what drive she had had and
settled for a mediocrity and self-loathing that she did not deserve. Most
horrible of all was the number of times that she had thought, not of
saving herself by leaving him, but of punishing herself one ultimate time
by suicide.
The shock of what Vic, now Vickie, remembered was too much. She
sank down into a chair and sobbed.
Vickie's crying was not loud, but it was enough. The small child awoke
and squirmed in Simon's arms. "Mommy," she said. Simon gently put
her down. Betsy ran over to the person she now knew as her mother.
"Don't cry, Mommy," she said, hugging the transformed man.
Simon smiled. "It's all right, Betsy. Your Mommy's crying because
she's happy."
"Who are you, Mr.?"
"My name is Simon, and I've just given your Mommy as job as my new
waitress. Isn't that right, Vickie?"
Vic, Vickie looked up. "You mean it, Simon. You'll give me that
chance after what I did?"
"Vickie, _you_ didn't do anything. The person who did those things is
buried within you, imprisoned my his own remorse for what he now
realizes he had unknowingly done."
Betsy yawned deeply and let go of her mother. She climbed up onto
Simon's empty chair, curled up, and tried to fall asleep. "Now, as to the
little one," Simon said. "I have a cot in my store room where she can
sleep for now. You're welcome to it as well after we close."
"I have a place."
"No, the Cantrells _had_ a place. They're gone. If you wish, I can
arrange for you to take over their lease."
"No. Somehow I get the feeling that if I'm starting over, I should start
clean."
"I agree. I also happen to know that there's a small apartment available
in Joe Lander's building. I'll pay the first month's rent, and you can pay
me
back out of your wages. I also suggest that you talk to his wife. She's a
lovely lady, who's always happy to baby-sit a small child, especially
since their own granddaughters live out on the West Coast. You should
have no trouble arranging for her to watch Betsy when you're working
here."
"Thank you, Simon. I really don't deserve your kindness."
"Perhaps not, but Betsy does. I'll give you a few minutes to settle her in
the cot. You can put your suitcase there as well."
"Suitcase?" Vickie looked down to see a large brown suitcase on the
floor next to her. A woman's purse -- her purse, she somehow knew --
was atop the suitcase.
"Certainly. You'll need toiletries and a change of clothes for yourself
and Betsy for tomorrow. The rest of your luggage is in a locker at the
bus station. Matt, my bartender, can go down with you to get it
tomorrow. The locker key is in your purse."
Vickie leaned over and kissed Simon on the cheek. She surprised herself
by doing so, but somehow it had seemed the right thing to do. She
picked up Betsy, who was almost asleep in the chair, and followed
Simon to the storeroom and on into her new life.
FINIS
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