Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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Princess Night Part Two: A Girl Is Her Father's Reflection free porn video
My name is solon plorry. I have just started doing this kinda
fiction; and made a mistake in story direction with an earlier
'part two', taking it away from the setting that was used to set
story up. There's no xxx in this version.
Princess Night Part Two: A Girl is Her Father's Reflection
By solon plorry
Paul and a friend sat in a corner booth near the back of the
Roadhouse, known by many as Rudy's (from 'Rude' house). Places
came and went with style, but Rudy's had served generations of
local youngsters who first tasted the sweet fruit of adulthood
within hailing distance of the dead and forlorn moose gracing the
fa?ade above the entrance.
Paul chatted with his friend, who leaned back and downed his
glass of Tab, the ice cubes clicking with finality as the dark
liquid got drunk. Happily, Paul looked around at the hum of
activity, checking to see who was there and who they were with.
Paul was twenty, and his narrowed gaze at the assembled kids
hinted of craft and guile, which clashed with his team jersey and
schoolboy mien.
Outside, David and Kirka pulled up in Clerke's Camaro, its rumble
announcing that it was a big engined car fitted with semi-legal
Ricky Shelby mufflers, sans a few baffles. Kirka had sat silently
the whole trip, the roar of the gas guzzling polluter making
chatting cumbersome because everything needed to be shouted.
Clerke liked Kirka, patting her knee across the bucket seats a
couple times, once grabbing his passenger uncomfortably close to
the groin when he leaned across to hear what Kirka said, which
was some pleasantry about it looking like maybe rain, tomorrow,
next day, next year... Kirka blushed, pulling away and feeling
small at the unexpectedness and crudity. When they got to Rudy's,
David pulled up near the back entry, shutting off his car to tell
Kirka that Paul Stanglar was inside and he'd join them after he
parked the machine and wiped the dust off, if he had time. Kirka
got out, feeling a bit lost.
Kirka wished she had gone home to her mom. She wasn't even
supposed to go into a licensed establishment, yet what the hell
else could she do? Timidly, she grabbed the door handle when the
door suddenly burst open, a couple laughing kids erupting into
the fresh air and brushing past as they hurried away. The door
swung slowly shut, giving the curious looker a peek at the
darkened interior. Kirka took a deep breath and pulled it back
before it closed, slipping inside and harnessing her ?lan, or
trying to.
Inside, she looked around in the way strangers do when they find
themselves places they don't belong, confusedly. For most, this
invites contempt, but for pretty teenagers it can be very
charming. A girl whom Kirka knew slightly came over, greeting her
with a smile and encompassing her with goodwill. 'Paul' was
indeed present, and the Good Samaritan led Kirka in and around a
playing jukebox then towards the rear where a few booths held
sway. Paul and a trim looking youth were there, and as soon as
Paul espied the approaching girls he got up and made room for
Kirka, exchanging jibes with the young lady before nodding in
appreciation then sending her away.
Kirka slid into the booth, glancing at the guy across the table,
who watched the proceedings quietly. Paul sat down beside Kirka,
leaving room for her to breathe. "This is Kirka," he told the
other, who smiled and said "Hi Erika", apparently
misunderstanding Paul's intro.
Paul smirked then stood to summon a waitress, twisting in his
seat to do so. The friend inquired if "Erika's" hair was natural
or did she highlight?
"No, I was born this way." Kirka (or Erika) wittily responded,
sending the two young men into gales of laughter.
"Oh how I'd love to have seen that!" the other commented amusedly
"Especially your spanking!"
Through a series of slight moves unnoticed by the young fairy,
Paul asked him for privacy, some quality time, which the friend
granted cheerfully, leaning into Paul and whispering some secret
before he strolled away, saying, "bye Erika, seeya 'round" before
leaving.
"Who was that?" Erika asked as he left.
"Just some guy." Paul said, the first of many, but by no means
the worst. Lies he was to tell her.
Stranglar had watched his pretty classmate's feminisation over
the past few weeks, with bounded leaps occurring within the last
few days. It had been hard not to notice the shy sissy as 'she'
began accepting what fate was dropping off on her doorstop each
day, and making a fair job of it. Stranglar was a twin, whose
sister had died. He was from 'Sin City' (Cincinnati) as it was
called, where his family played the great game in real estate,
transport and other money printing operations. He was youngest
son, and rebelled somewhat at the hand me down status. His family
had sent him to school in Straitsville because the school had a
good reputation, and to get him away from the memory of his dead
twin. Despite neglecting his studies for so long, he was actually
doing okay, though he should have been in college. He was a young
man with lots of secrets.
It was easy to manage 'Erika'' who had changed her name from
Kireka (Kirka) just like that, because Paul's friend had
misunderstood! This, plus a few other items, showed Paul that
Erika was easily to be formed, and the traces of an idea began
taking shape in Paul's deeper recesses. Paul had a problem, and
if handled properly, little Miss Grubby maybe could come in handy
in its solution!
For the present, Paul felt out the youth, exploring how Erika
worked. With her small white teeth and eager eyes, her open mouth
in awe before she laughed, and her way of shyly smirking to
herself, as if she felt herself getting stronger; she was quite
beguiling.
Erika was thrilled by Paul, by his easy charm and how he
effortlessly kept the crowd away, avoiding having to introduce
Erika, whom they knew as 'the kid with the second hand jacket.'
She was delighted by the personal attention, and the adventure of
first exposure to the casual fun people had, laughing and great
music. When Erika needed to use a toilet, even that was no
problem... a 'unisex only' washroom in the corner took care of
those needs! Erika had a great time.
When they split a milkshake, their heads together and sucking
noisily on the two straws, it was heavenly to Erika. As Kirk, she
had never had a girlfriend, not a second skin one anyway. To
Paul, though considerably more worldly then the younger kid, her
failure to establish herself was amazing, indicative that there
was plenty more to her story, which he intended to find out.
Erika didn't know it, but the summons to Rudy's had a larger
purpose then just socializing among classmates: Paul was marking
off his territory!
Home Troubles Burning
Erika was late, and her ma was mad. When Paul dropped off the
lass near a huge puddle where the alley in front of the Wallerson
home drained onto 165th avenue, it was near eleven, and Mrs. Babs
Wallerson was a stickler. Naturally, Wanda was hovering nearby,
to reap the benefit of her asshole's (Kirk's) transgression.
Erika made her way down the alley, avoiding the worst bogs; it
was dark and he hoped she could make it home without a soaker.
As Babs' and Geary's only son, great weight rested on the slim
shoulders of the delinquent schoolboy, who had a hard time
getting her mind on the task at hand. That was getting into the
house and to her room without being noticed; she simply ignored
the obvious that his mother, not to mention sis, would have
missed her at supper and would be watching for eldest son.
In conjunction with the disarray of the family home, it's clutter
and shabbiness, perhaps in recompense; a crude strictness was
applied to the children, especially Kirk. The mother was slightly
mad, the father also. They were both overweight loners who
grunted in communication with each other. Geary Wallerson ran
Straitsville's 'landfill operations' or the town dump. He drove
the garbage truck three days a week; he had done that forever. He
worked, watched television and slept, that was his life. 'The
wife' attended to the house, paid the bills and took care of the
kids. It was a very dysfunctional household, though none of them
besides Erika, had any complaints. Erika was a flower blossoming
on a manure pile, his mom the sorta florist.
Soon as the boy entered, the shouting started. Flustered, Erika
tried to make up an explanation for his missing supper, coming
home very late and neglecting to phone - all on the fly. Her
mother harassed him, demanding an accounting, and poor Kirk
couldn't come upon one before Babs noticed mascara and shadow the
kid had foolishly left in noticeable traces on her face, so
distracted had he been by the evening's date; the games of pool
with Paul helping her line up her balls, the walk on the bluffs
afterwards, and the sweet kisses...
"What's this?" his mother yelled, furious. "You've been painting
your face again, you're not a child no more young man; now go to
your room!" she shouted, chasing her younger down the hall.
Before Kirk could escape, she grabbed him and began whacking away
to accompanying screams and pleas from the culprit. A short
distance away, Wanda savoured the night, the beating her brother
was getting, pleased by his distress.
Wanda hated her brother. She never knew why, but it was clear to
any observer who would take a minute. Kirk was better looking
then she was, smaller and finely shaped. He had a peaches and
cream complexion many girls would die for, the kid didn't sweat!
He would look cool in gunnysacks! When his hair wasn't combed, he
was breathtaking!
Angrily she reflected that he ate like a pig, fighting over
scraps with her, yet was so light he could jump over the school
fence with his arms crossed, boyish behaviour sure but... damn!
She noticed he even shit as casually as a cub, indifferent to the
results, no matter where they were, because there was no stink!
Poor Wanda remembered times she had to open the bathroom window
at granny's when her bowels acted stupid! She hated boys in
general, they had everything, she nothing. Hatred burned in her
guts, and the wailing of the errant youth was music to her ears.
In a rage, Babs went into Kirk's room. It just didn't look like a
boys' room, or what Babs' idea of what a boy's room should look
like. He was grounded! My God was he ever grounded!
She looked in the dresser drawer, finding tubes and bottles and
small makeup cases... stunned, Erika's mother stumbled around,
gasping at discovery after discovery. Both her offspring watched
from the doorway as she pulled bottles and tubes of makeup and
mascara's from the dresser drawer. Then the woman's clothing,
nylons, garters, dresses, bras and blouses...where did it come
from? In the closet, mother lifted high heel shoes, displaying
them around in futile dismay.
Erika yelled "Stop, mother!" as she uncovered her secrets. She
was still on the floor, with Wanda dear standing beside, looking
down on the doomed. "It's just playing!" Kirk tried to lie, but
it was evident that a whole life had been in progress within this
room; a life the family had no inkling of.
"Gather up this stuff you!" she yelled at Wanda, uncertain
whether to cry or scream, throwing a pair of silk panties to her
eldest, turning, lost.
She had no idea that her only son was well on his way to becoming
a practicing female, and she wouldn't have understood that even
if she had. She was so disconnected.
She shouldn't have been. Many years earlier, Wanda the baby in
the back seat, returning home, a hitchhiker. He was some guy just
out of jail, a lost soul in dirty white jeans and billowy shirt.
A girly dresser! Wanda was intrigued when he offered... Geary was
working late, as usual, and she was so lonely, young. He needed
money. Barbara took him to the house, to give him something to
eat.
A note from Geary saying 'Don't wait up!' Babs remembered, he was
wearing garters and nylons under his jeans! It was about the
wildest thing she ever did, they ended up in bed and. Babs knew
within a few days that the pickup was potent, despite his pansy
haplessness.
When Kirk came along, Geary acted like it was another daughter;
he wanted a son and somehow or other he seemed aware that Kirk
was... different. He had never, from the very first, taken any
interest in his family, having learned too well the old notion
fathers provided the income, and remained aloof from family
affairs beyond the cost and so on.
Babs sometimes saw the father: when Kirk caught the light a
certain way; he would eventually look exactly like his pa, whose
name she never learned. What happened to him, she had no idea,
but people who are too needy get destroyed by this world; that
she knew very well. Now this!
Wanda was in seventh heaven "Woo, he's one of them queers!" she
announced as she grabbed his shemale-ary wherever she could. "He
must be a homo-homo!" She gleefully carried on, stunned when
their mother turned on her and furiously shut her up.
'Kirk is no such thing; he's just a baby!' she thought
defensively.
It was simply more then she could handle, sorting out things that
entire books and movies had been centred on; people had died,
been killed and through suicide, ruined over this type of thing;
it was a big mess that they had stumbled into and now Babs wanted
out. To her younger's relief.
With the room in shambles, mother withdrew saying "You're
grounded!" again to Erika, who flopped on his bed teary-eyed.
Wanda gasped aloud. "That's all, the fucker's grounded!" she
shouted in amazement.
"You watch your filthy mouth in this house young lady!" Babs
shrieked, totally enraged at Wanda, re-entering the room and
hitting the elder, whose wrongdoing was plain as a loud fart on
Sunday. "Or you'll be grounded too, I'm your mother!" She raged,
exhausted by mothering these people.
Wanda ran from the room, her face dark and her chest in a knot.
Babs hyperventilated, she was an old fat woman and she was
missing 'Lovely Discov'ry' which was her eleven o'clock. The
frantic antics of TV could be heard from the big room, where
Geary slept in front of television, drooling amid snorts and
chuckles as the thing blared and hammered entertainment and
products into people's heads. When her bulk retreated, her in-
progress daughter flitted off the bed, closing the door and
jamming home the scraper.
The Affliction
Erika found school different once she connected to Paul and his
friends. For one thing, people who had cruelly ignored Kirk now
smiled and sought her company. Kirk had a nativist wisdom, and
knew how to straddle the styles his new life involved with the
style society demanded of its young. She also had Paul's worldly
insights into such matters: Paul bought her a trim blue leather
jacket that perfectly suited Erika's hair colour and complexion.
Paul car, a single wheel of which cost more then Dave Clerke's
entire noisemobile, purred softly when she rode with him,
smelling of taste and class unfamiliar to kids like Erika, who
thought Heinz was the ketchup the well bred used, instead of
watery no-name! Although she and Paul weren't 'hand and glove'
they did spend lots of time together. Paul had his own place, out
on Fringe Road, a small house set back amid cedar and ash. The
house belonged to an uncle, who was supposed to keep an eye on
things, but was too busy wining and dining an ex model he'd met
at Balmarine.
After the death of his sister, Paul had discovered the boxes of
her clothing stacked in the hall, with "Goodwill" magic marked on
them! Paul had substituted laundry for his twin's clothing, and
this was now kept in a locked room. Once Paul got a good feel for
Erika, and with the spring prom fast approaching, he decided to
enlist her in his scheme.
He was allergic to women. Not hyperallergic; he could be around
woman and carry on as normal, but he couldn't be too closely
around one woman too long, more than a half hour or so. The
allergy detected each woman or girl he was near, and if she
didn't move on, it protested severely! If he defied the allergy,
and he had done so just to see the repercussions, a variety of
awful afflictions beset him. Paul had lived with the problem for
a long time; there seemed no solution.
A stop gap of course could be found by answering a couple simple
question- "What is woman, but man without certain features" or
"What is man, but woman with those very features!" Paul's
fraternal twin had been the living answer to the dilemma, but she
died.
Now Paul idly reflected on the new situation. "They sure raise
lively ones in Coy County, don't they Paula dear!"
End Of Part Two
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