Skin Deep: Episode 1 free porn video

WRITERS WANTED - SEE DETAILS AT END A nitty-gritty mystery series with men in black, covert out-of-control operations, an over bearing mother-in-law (who is rich and powerful), an S&M sex club that is more than a sex club, a beautiful wife who has changed from sweet and wholesome to black leather and metal studs. And in the middle, a husband everyone suddenly wants a piece of and who finds himself trapped in a female body suit that is threatening to change his sex - permanently. Skin Deep Noel Lexicon's Episode (CH I) Copyright 4/2002 "Sweetheart, would you consider moving to another city. I have an opportunity for a really good career move." I didn't really, but with Jennifer, my wife of three years, theoretical situations wasn't something deemed worthy of discussion. She turned towards me and her look of exasperation was answer enough. I sighed - silently. I had reluctantly recognized five months ago that my acceptance of a job from Jennifer's mother's Company, Alkali Industries, some three years ago had been a bad mistake. In fact, a very bad mistake! I had started out enthused and very determined to show my mettle. I worked more than my contemporaries and even put in extra effort on lunch and breaks and some overtime without pay just to make a mark, to make Jennifer and her mother proud of me. My trust and youthful enthusiasm was such that it took a long time for the truth to penetrate: that no matter how much I did, no matter how much I out produced all my contemporaries, it wasn't enough. And it was never going to be enough! And worse, all my good ideas, idea's sometimes extremely clever in their effect and subtly, was ferociously attacked and pillaged as stupid and juvenile, only to have someone in management miraculously originate the very same idea months later. Any comments I made about similarities were viciously laughed at and if I persisted and did something stupid like producing a certified copy of my original idea, I found myself threatened with disciplinary action. "My friends are here. My family is here," Jennifer said defiantly. "You can't seriously expect me to just leave everything meaningful in my life behind just because you're having difficulty getting along with people." She shook her head sending her beautiful auburn hair flying then brushed it back behind her collar. It was one of her distinctive displeasure signatures. Jennifer knew she was very attractive and she deliberately accentuated that sensual appeal in all her actions. 'Having difficulty getting along with people!' I looked at Jennifer curiously. That was a refrain that had recently surfaced at work. After my disillusionment, or perhaps enlightenment, I had turned my cleverness to transferring part of the crushing load that was continually dumped exclusively on me to others. I had managed to find and read all the work rules governing company policy including the Union Company labor agreement. With my nearly photographic memory and my ever- present cleverness I was now extremely adroit in defending my turf and time. So much so that more than one supervisor had left my cubicle absolutely fuming in recent weeks. I had stopped worrying about their opinion when I had been passed over for my annual automatic raise six months ago, thereby becoming the first person in the history of the Company to fail a level two step raise. Had I had any lingering doubts about my status or future with Alkali Industries that had put 'finis' to it. "If you loved me..." "Don't go there," Jennifer said huffily. "That's a two way street. If you loved me, you wouldn't have asked something so asinine." She glared at me for a moment then looked around our small kitchen. Jennifer was unused to me being on the offensive, such as the little I now was. Normally I was far too tired and shop worn from my job to bother with argument. "You know, you don't sound very thankful about Mother giving you that job. And it's not as if you're carrying your weight at work," she added. I felt heat flush throughout my face. It was one thing to get sniped at while at work, but in the sanctity of your own home it was like being blindsided. And Jennifer had been doing that a lot to me lately. When we had first met she had been nearly picture-perfect, or at least I had thought so. She had worn classy clothes, spoken softly, smiled a lot and could cause me an immediate erection by just staring languidly into my eyes. And Jennifer had no problem letting me know how much I excited her physically. With her lithe, well-proportioned 5'7" frame, her 36c beautiful breasts and her wholesome lovely skin, once she had opened her arms and bed to me our marriage had been a forgone conclusion. Unfortunately that idyllic picture had started eroding after our first year together and now I was mostly just confused. The 'class' I had married and had deeply desired had mostly changed to leather, studs, 'fuck me' high heels, net black stockings, mini skirts and body piercings and tattoos. The sweetness had been replaced with disinterest and at times irrational outbursts of anger mixed with an adder sharp tongue. Jennifer was still sexy, in some ways perhaps more so, but it was a more blatant cruder type of sexuality. "What do you mean by that?" I asked angrily. The whole situation was so damn unfair and whimsical that I couldn't help wondering if Jennifer's mother was somehow behind things. And because of changes in her personality, I had even wondered if Jennifer was doing drugs but knew I would probably be the last to know on that score. "I hear things," Jennifer said. Her expression was tense enough that her lips had thinned. "Such as?" Despite my intentions my voice was slightly higher and sharper than I wanted. Jennifer turned away from me, a sure sign that I had angered her. She very deliberately rinsed the glass she had been drinking from and left it upside down on the counter by the sink. Then she carefully dried her hands on the dishtowel. She was stalling and that surprised me because Jennifer normally didn't pause to consider her words - at least not with me. "You don't need to get in such a snit. I'm not the one having trouble at work," she said finally. She wasn't facing me when she said it, which also wasn't like her. By the rapid rise and fall of her breasts I knew my unexpected directness had her agitated. "I'm not in a snit!" I was being snappish more than was prudent, but she was touching a very raw nerve. I was having more and more problems containing my anger at the maltreatment I was receiving from supervisors at her mother's company. "I just want to know what you heard and whom you heard it from. I'm working my butt off and don't appreciate someone sniping behind my back to my wife. If they don't like something, they should have the courage and courtesy to at least say it to my face," I said. Jennifer whirled and glared hotly at me. "So you can make trouble for them? Get them mad at me too? Grow up," she said sharply. Her voice was vibrating with her anger. We stood facing one another - inches from a shouting match. Jennifer's face was slightly flushed and her nostrils were flaring with every breath. She was angry and I was badly frustrated, a volatile combination. I was also perplexed at the source of her anger. It seemed a bad side effect of the seventy to eighty hours of work continuously demanded of me by the division manager (a division manager who was a very close friend of Jennifer's mother), but I wasn't totally sure. Faced with all those long lonely hours Jennifer had started filling our lack of time together with friends of her own choosing - friends who didn't particularly like me. Perhaps those 'new' friends explained the discord that was now an ongoing part of our marriage. "If you're still going, you had better get ready," Jennifer said finally dropping her eyes submissively. Her abrupt change of mood jarred and perplexed me. I stared at her in puzzlement. She glanced nervously up at me then turned away. I watched her long Auburn hair sway around her shoulders as she puttered with things in the sink. I stood silently in the kitchen for another twenty seconds before turning around in unrelieved frustration and going upstairs. I knew any attempt by me to discuss things further right now would be futile but what really bothered me was that we seemed unable to communicate any more. Our present lack of eye contact was systematic of that. My hope was that after a good experience tonight, we could find a way to talk tomorrow and perhaps get our relationship back on track. Tomorrow was a rare day off for me - another reason for me doing crazy tonight. Upstairs I went into the spare bathroom and took off all my clothes. I stood looking at the large tub holding the female body suit in its energizing gel and for a moment felt like the worlds biggest fool for becoming involved with this farce. I considered backing out then shrugged in resignation. Jennifer and I wouldn't have many more opportunities to heal our relationship. My desire to try to heal our growing breach was the only reason I had agreed to a stupid idea - me dressing in a body suit as a female and accompanying Jennifer and Janey to Janey's office party. I had to be crazy or desperate to agree to go anywhere where Janey would be present. She openly hated my guts and made no bones about it. And dressing as a female? That showed how desperate I really was about trying to transform the deterioration of our relationship. Males attending parties in female body suits was currently in vogue at many of the parties around town, in part because of the dazzling array of female body suits available, but it was not something that had ever appealed to me. But here I was because Jennifer had been at me for some time to try it. Now, with all the stress in our marriage, if it made Jennifer happy I was willing to do crazy for an evening - and suffer Janey's presence while I did it. I voided myself, shaved my face closely then showered. After I was done, and while still standing in the tub, I applied a special suit skin gel (a goop of sorts) to my body everywhere, including my scalp and hair. When I finished I was once again ready to call the whole thing off. My skin had turned slimy! Not had slime on it, but had turned slimy itself and all my hair was plastered to my scalp or my body like a bad imitation of Mr. Slick. How did the female impersonators stand this? I shuddered in extreme distaste then stepped out of the tub and walked on the plastic mat to the large washtub filled with the body suit soaking in its special gel. With a sigh full of resignation I turned on the actuator sitting on the bathroom counter then reached into the tub and removed the suit. It felt 'slimy' though whether it was my hands or the suit I couldn't tell. I got back into the tub and sitting on the edge I wiggle and pulled my right foot into the leg of the suit and then down into the foot. The material the suit was made of was flat weird. It felt sort of what I imagine trying to put on wet plastic socks would - hard to tell you were making process. My foot finally seated with a sucking plop then I repeated the process with the other foot. With my skin so slimy trying to hold on to the suit was proving a real chore. Without it seeming to stretch, I was slowly able to slide the slimy collagen polymer 'skin' all the way up to the top of my thighs. Now came the moment of truth so to speak, rearranging Mr. Petey to meet suit hygiene requirements. I sighed aloud then popped my testicles up into my body cavity per the instructions. That hurt like hell. I had to be five kinds of stupid to have let Jennifer talk me into this. I found the part for Mr. Petey and wrapped the edges around him until he was bound in the special skin fold. I spent an uncomfortable moment tucking him back between my legs, he surprisingly didn't show any signs of life - poor kid - then I slipped the suit buttocks up over my own. Handling the suit was a grotesque task and trying to slide both arms into the slimy sleeves was almost more than I could stomach. There was a macabre feel about it I hadn't expected - like putting on the skin of a dead person. I shuddered then shoved my right arm in until it seated with its own special strange sucking noise. The other arm followed. I sort of shrugged the suit over my shoulders and with some pulling found myself mostly enveloped in bodysuit except for the headpiece - which now hung at the back of my neck like an unused coat hood. Strangely, when my hands seated in the suit my skin, or the suit skin, no longer seemed slimy and I was able to get a much better purchase on the hood. Soon my entire head was in the suit. My hair had been plastered to my head by the gel and other than some mounding, lay flat on my head. Unbelievably, the suit had stretched to fit. Unfortunately I could barely see out of the eye slits. I threw a towel on the floor, stepped out of the tub and walked carefully to the machine sitting on the bathroom counter. I felt around then stuck the fingers of my right hand into it, felt a little click, flipped the switch and felt the machine actuate. The suit began vibrating then seemed to come to life. It was as if thousands of fingers were on my body everywhere. I felt Mr. Petey forcefully sucked into the channel especially designed for him. It was weird, frightening, and erotic all at once. Had my penis not been so tightly tucked back in my crotch by the suit I would have sported a very noticeable woody. As I watched in the mirror, a miracle seemed to occur, the unfastened seams of the suit slowly melded together to form a second skin. It was awesome to watch - like a special effect from the movies. The energy from the actuator was running through special suit fibers in my fingers to the rest of the suit providing the energy for the suit polymer chains to literally weld themselves into a single seamless body covering. As energy continued infusing the suit my nipples felt like someone was grasping them and pulling them from my chest. When I looked in the mirror I saw the delightful pink nipple-tipped breasts of the suit rising out from my torso. It felt like the suit was pulling my own nipples with it as it expanded into a bust for me - it was more than uncomfortable, it was painful. How did the female impersonators put up with this? The suit's breasts thankfully stopped at an 'A' cup level. More pain would have had me out of it no matter what. I soon forgot the pain in my nipples. The suit continued sealing itself and then started cinching my waist. I experienced a moment where I could scarcely breath and the suit showed no signs of stopping its tightening of my waist. Just when I was ready to jerk my hand out of the actuator, the constrictions stopped. I stood gasping like a fish out of water. How could such a thin flexible shell exert so much force? I suddenly had an appreciation of what the women forced into corsets in the last century had had to endure. My legs and arms started feeling compressed and I watched as the suit slowly reshaped the outward appearance of my legs and arms. My limbs slowly took on a more feminine cast. One benefit was that the eye slits grew tight around my eyes and just when I was starting to worry they seemed to pop and I could see normally. I breathed in relief. The machine on the counter beeped and I withdrew my hand then stared at myself in the mirror - at my image in the mirror. It was mostly female. To my eye I could still see maleness in my form by the shape of my shoulders, the slim curve to my hips and by the size of my hands. I thought I looked like a feminized male instead of a female. Perhaps I had an overly critical eye. Jennifer was a very attractive female and I knew her body intimately - I was no Jennifer! Though in fairness to the suit, its hair, head and groin, hadn't started growing yet. However, I did have a rather androgynous look - perhaps even feminine. It's hard to be objective when trying to judge yourself. Following the instructions I took another shower using special soap provided with the suit and was able to slowly wash the last of the slime away - thank heavens! All through the shower my nipples and anus tingled and nearly drove me crazy. I couldn't feel Petey but at least he didn't hurt. As I dried off I suddenly found myself being squeezed from all sides... hard! I panicked, unsure what was going on, and then I remembered the manual's description of the effect of the first cool down 'memory' set. Knowing what was happening eased my initial fear, but it was still a decidedly unpleasant experience. Then the words that I had read and overlooked flashed back in my mind - first cool down. How many of these memory set moments were there supposed to be? Why hadn't I thought to ask? I slapped my forehead with my palm. Sometimes I can be so stupid. Why hadn't I, Mr. eagle eye himself elsewhere, questioned that simple phrase before now? I walked back to the mirror and looked at myself again. My eyes came to rest on a small ruff of golden fur crowning the suit's groin. The suits pubic hair was already growing. I quickly glanced at my scalp and saw that the hair there was doing likewise. It seemed nearly magic because I didn't feel anything, other than being a ten pd sausage in a five pd container. As I continued to watch, enough hair fuzzed out that I could tell the color - in both places. The suit designers had a nice touch - they'd matched the pubic hair to the golden blond fuzz on the suit's head. At least the poor fool wearing... I mean, at least I wouldn't have to pretend to be a natural blonde. Suddenly I found myself exasperated. I was only wearing the damn thing for one night and had no interest in experimenting with the other side of the blanket as so many did while in female body suits. "Are you done in there?" Done in there! She took lots of time getting ready herself but now that I was the one using the bathroom more than usual, Jennifer was showing none of the patience she always demanded of me. I bit my tongue determined to not give her anything to complain about. Entering tomorrow, my first non-Sunday off in a long time, on a good note was the key to my entire plan of rejuvenating our fading relationship. I wrapped one towel around me and one over my head, much like Jennifer does when she gets out of the tub or shower. Then I threw my shirt and shorts into the dirty clothes hamper. "Let me see," Jennifer said as soon as I stepped into the hall. I felt a flash of irritation as I realized it wasn't the bathroom she had been impatient for. For one of the few times in my life I felt unexplainably shy. Like I said, sometimes I'm unexplainably stupid, she was after all my wife of three years. "When I'm done! You take your shower and let me get ready." "Spoilsport!" Jennifer gave me a quick pout then a light- hearted smile. That made me feel immensely better. Maybe this was worth it after all! Once inside the spare bedroom I had arranged to dress in, necessary because Jennifer hadn't wanted me setting at her makeup table or using her things. I walked to the closet and looked inside at the garments hanging carefully on wooden hangers inside the long plastic bags. Those garments represented the key elements of changes I had made. The outfit that had come with the body suit was pure slut - whorish even. It had consisted of a black rubber looking mini skirt that was accentuated by black silk fishnet stockings that even had a seam for the back of each leg. Accompanying this were 4" high black stiletto heels and a blouse cut so low and so off the shoulders that I would be tugging at it all evening long just to keep my nippl... the suit's nipples from showing. And the included lipstick was so garish and bright red that only a lady of the evening would ever wear it. Maybe such apparel was designed for the tastes of those who normally rented bodysuits - and then maybe Janey had something to do with it. I knew she would never miss a chance to belittle me in front of Jennifer. Whatever the case, one thing was for certain - no way was I wearing the included ensemble. I carefully removed the plastic bags and brushed a lint remover over my clothing selections and once again felt a small amount of pride at my cleverness. I had managed to hit enough thrift shops and other such stores on my lunch hours until I had assembled the type of outfit I really wanted Jennifer to wear - wholesome and healthy (and classy). I had avoided using any of our charge cards while assembling the outfit just in case the garish garb had Janey's hand in it. Janey unexplainably always seemed to know what I was doing before anyone else - and that had started making me paranoid lately. I moved to my self-made rough 2x4 makeup table and turned on a lamp I had borrowed. One last look and I started on my eyes. I had luckily found a very helpful sales person at one of the beauty shops who had went out of her way to teach me some makeup basics. As far as my makeup was concerned, thanks to her I was doing the minimalist approach. A light last minute dusting of sprinkles across the bridge of my nose, some nearly colorless lipstick, more like a lip gloss, and just a touch of thickner on my eyebrows to emphasize my eyes. She had enthused over my eyes at length and even giggled when I asked her where she had been when I was single and dating. After getting my eyelashes darkened and thickened, that single task took me the better part of a half-hour, I removed the towel from my head and stared in utter disbelief. My hair... I mean the suits blond hair had grown to where my collar would be if I had been wearing a shirt. And I hadn't felt a thing. Well at least the ponytail style I had opted for would work well. That I had even practiced on a hairstylist at a shop to be sure I could do it the way I most liked it. Ah... most liked it on women I mean! Another thirty minutes and I was satisfied with my hair. And surprised by my looks. There was nothing androgynous about my image any longer - I looked feminine. Not gorgeous! Just attractive, healthy and classy, perhaps even interesting and that I liked. A knock sounded on the door. "Forty minutes until we have to leave. Can I come in?" "You can wait forty minutes. If you come in it will take longer. Consider it your surprise for the evening," I shouted at the door. I heard mumbling and then her footsteps walking away. I felt relieved. I didn't want Jennifer to see me nude in the body suit? I know, that really doesn't make sense, but I didn't! Forty minutes later I was ready. I looked at the bridge of my nose in the mirror and smiled. I liked the very slight sparkly affect. I reached down and picked up my last jewelry piece, an expensive looking gold bracelet for my left arm. When I was done I took a last look in the mirror and found myself pleased. The coup de grace of my outfit had been the necklace, inexpensive and beautiful in its elegance. At least it was to me. It was a choker of sorts with a beautiful dainty cross hanging from it. The cross was nowhere near my cleavage and spoke volumes about a simple faith. I had liked it the first time I had seen it and wanted badly to buy it, but hadn't. Jennifer would never have worn it. And now I was! I didn't see myself as gorgeous, or as the sexpot so many body suited males went for, but I had managed to achieve the look I had really wanted - wholesome. My bra was a virginal white lace affair around modest cups. My blouse was an Ivory white silk with open sleeves that tied at the elbows and wrists with colorful ribbons, and my slacks a peach that went spectacularly with the color of the blouse and my blond... I mean the suit's blond hair. My slacks also had stirrups. Those helped create a tension in the material that scandalously highlighted the new feminine contours of my loins (sorry about that Mr. Petey). The last part of my outfit, besides the pearl drop glue-on earrings (which made my ears look pierced) was the white calf skin boots that laced sexily up my legs and covered most of my calves. The best part of the boots, besides looking really sharp with my outfit, was that they had blocky two-inch heels that were easy for me to walk in. They only looked like four-inch heels! I looked back in the mirror and raised my left arm. The girl in the mirror raised hers. I shook my head, she shook hers sending her ponytail flying and setting the cross at her neck to swinging slightly. Both caught your eye. I tried smiling. She smiled back. I didn't like the smile - on her - and tried again. Then again and again! Finally I found the expression I thought someone like her would have. It was full of warmth, honesty and just a little devilment. I practiced it until I could produce it every time. Satisfied I stood looking at myself then found myself amazed when a sly little smile curled her lips. That was me? As I stared at the image in the mirror, a strange feeling came over me - a sense of disorientation. I felt unbalanced! Oh, I knew the image was me, but the woman in the mirror was so authentic, so genuine looking that her image was shaking my self-identity concepts. I knew I was still male, but she was so definitely female I couldn't find the ground upon which to stand to rail against the falsity of my own image. I stood and stared in awe at the false image. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea to have created her so much to my own tastes. "Paul, your forty minutes are up." It was Jennifer and she was yelling from downstairs. "Janey's here. Get a move on we need to leave shortly." Janey! Whoopee de do! I sighed, flipped my head one last time, sending my pony tail flying, winked at myself in the mirror then marched out to my waiting audience. "Paul?" I don't know why, but Jennifer's open-mouthed reaction made my day. "You bastard! You're supposed to wear the clothes that came with the suit!" Then... there was Janey! "Make him go back and change immediately," hissed Janey. "Why didn't you wear the clothes we got you?" asked Jennifer looking between Janey and I. 'We got you!' I had guessed right! Janey's hand had been involved. I could tell by Jennifer's confusion that she hadn't considered I might not like the sluttish way Janey had apparently intended for me to be outfitted. And knowing Jennifer, she had to be asking herself what difference did it make. I was unbelievably glad that I had taken the time and effort to make the change - if for no other reason because it bugged the hell out of Janey. "I've never tell you how to dress," I said looking directly in Jennifer's eyes. I knew she would have problems arguing against that. The concept of quid pro quo was one of Jennifer's strongest argumentative precepts. "But it's a costume party," Janey said quickly. "Then I'll get you some way out clothes so you can both dress in them. You and Jennifer have no costumes while I in this body suit am in the biggest costume of all," I replied. Then I wondered about what I had just said, why WEREN'T they in costumes? "It's a costume party for males," Janey said hurriedly. I smiled at her. Perhaps smirked was a better word. "Sure it is!" "Bastard," she snarled. We love one another, really we do! "One simple request, just a simple request from your wife and you can't even do it right for her," Janey said angrily. Her face was flushed and she seemed enraged. Why did it matter to her that much? "Go get the damn clothes and change," she finished. My eyes widened in surprise. She was upset enough over the clothes that she was ordering me around? That I did find interesting. It also made me curious. What real difference could it make? Obviously somehow it did - at least to Janey. "Couldn't if I wanted. I used them as trade on these," I said motioning at what I had on. I hadn't, but I had wisely stored Janey's bimbo brand X in a downtown locker so in case of an event like this I couldn't be forced to change at the last minute. Occasionally I do some things right! Janey came unglued. She attacked me with everything but fingernails and if she had of, I'd have punched her. Hey, you've heard of queen for the day? Well I was 'broad for the night' and I wasn't adverse to learning first-hand about catfights - especially if Janey was a participant. Finally Janey paused for breath. "Do you actually eat with that also?" I asked staring very obviously at her mouth. "No wonder you have distemper." Janey's shriek must have been audible for miles. "Paul, you promised you'd get along," Jennifer said. She was starting to get angry, but wasn't certain which of us was at fault. As normal though, she went after me first. "Tell motor mouth there," I said nodding towards Janey. "I'll tone it down if she does!" "What's a matter, big he man can't stand truth from a girl?" shouted Janey. She still had tons of volume. She could have functioned as a kaleidoscope for a carnival. "That's just the way she is and she didn't promise, you did. Besides, it's her party. Are you breaking your promise to me even before you are out the door." "I said I would try, I never promised." It was a small point, but I had learned the hard way the necessity of arguing with Jennifer over even the smallest of points. And admit nothing! I should have been a lawyer! "You said you'd go along and not make waves." "And I will if things stay reasonable. But if things get into banana land I'm out of there." "You promised," Jennifer said starting to get that look. "That's all you little fags can think about, your bananas." It was Janey back on the attack. Where was a swarm of killer bees when you really needed them? I looked at my wife, then pointedly at Janey, then back to my wife. Janey was continuing to run off at the mouth. "This is your idea of a fun evening for us?" I asked finally. "You're not even giving it a chance. You promised you'd do what I wanted one evening. Is that too much to ask? If you would just go along and not worry so much about others, you might surprise yourself and have fun." "I said I'll try, Jennifer. Try controlling motor mouth here just a little though and it'll be better for all of us." Jennifer made a face then turned around, opened her purse and came back holding a pill in a cellophane package. "Here," she said holding it out to me. "What's this?" "A tranquilizer. You are so uptight about this your fighting your own feelings and we aren't even out of the house. Please don't ruin my evening just because you feel your masculinity challenged." Masculinity challenged? Little fags like you? I didn't like the undercurrent I was getting from our dysfunctional conversation. I took the pill and walked over to the fireplace, picked up the remains of my drink, pill to mouth and then I tossed the drink down and made a production of swallowing. "Shall we go?" I said. Both women had been watching me closely. The ride downtown was mostly Janey attacking my masculinity and Jennifer and I silent. The nonstop attacks seemed a test of some sort. As we drove deeper into the city we got into a section that I didn't recognize. Not exactly the slums, but an area with an unhealthy miasma about it. The further we drove, the gladder I became that I had pocketed Jennifer's pill. How did Jennifer, or Janey, know anyone down here? Soon the cab we had rented pulled up in front of a large building that looked like a converted warehouse except for the entrance. That at least had some class. The three of us climbed out of the cab, which was another thing I hadn't understood. We had a perfectly good car, two of them in fact and Janey a third, yet both women had been insistent we go by cab. I shivered momentarily as the night air hit my skin and when I looked down I marveled at the realism of the suit, it had goose bumps. I rubbed my arms for warmth. It was amazing how much sensation came through. "How are you feeling, Sweetheart?" asked Jennifer. "Maybe not quite the uptight asshole about now?" Janey added snickering. I fanned my face. "Let's party," I said. Janey pulled out passes from her purse and showed them to the gorilla at the door. As he examined our invitations, I examined him. Besides being big and double dip ugly, he was packing. If I hadn't been trying so hard to patch things up with Jennifer I would have demanded we leave right there. The gorilla looked at each of us, matching the invitations to the person. When his eyes lit on me his mouth curled into a smirk filled with amusement. Finally he turned and opened the door for us. "You ladies have a nice time, tonight," he said. As we went in his hand patted my butt but before I could turn and say something Jennifer grabbed me by the arm and pulled me inside with her. "Now remember, go along with everything we do and we will all be fine," she said as we walked through the front door. I heard Janey snicker. As Jennifer and Janey lead us towards a distant table I examined the interior of the club. My feeling that this whole affair was a very bad idea grew stronger and stronger the further we got inside. The club was stark. Most of the money for d?cor had been spent in the twenty feet of entrance and the bar. The only good thing I could say was that at least it was clean. One thing I noticed right away, the common area, bar, dance floor, stage, and tables, comprised a lot less area than the outside dimensions of the building said should be available. There were obviously a lot of private rooms. The girls approached a table near the dance floor and by some adroit maneuvering I made sure I was sitting away from Janey. When she realized what I had done, she shot me a dark look - which I blithely ignored. Hey, I was on tranquilizers! We got drinks and I was surprised by how fast both of the girls went through theirs. The music restarted a few minutes later. It was loud, raucous and I'm sure, loved by horny drunks and the deaf everywhere, conditions I didn't momentarily possess. Janey seemed nervous and when the second round of drinks came she gulped heavily at her drink before turning to snipe at me. I ignored her and continued to smile blithely. Before Janey had finished her drink, men were headed towards our table. "Go with the flow, Paul. You promised," Jennifer said giving me a worried look. "I'm cool." The first male over quickly zeroed in on Jennifer. The things that had always attracted me to her obviously were attracting him - and others as well. Her figure absolutely whispered motherhood. With very little conversation he asked her to dance. As she got up I noticed that she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. I tried to catch her eye but she studiously ignored me. An unbelievable sadness rippled through me. Did she do this often, take off her ring and flirt with other men? Pain mixed with my confusion. Was this the true state of our marriage? Maybe this whole thing wasn't such a good idea. I took a very large breath and turned back to the male who was trying to make time with me - Mr. nostril hair himself. "You two les lovers?" he asked with great sensitivity - not. "If you are indelicately asking if I'm a lesbian, I can assure you I'm not." Janey and her date got up and joined Jennifer on the floor. "Well, sweetcheeks, I guess that's something you're going to be able to prove to me tonight, isn't it!" "Not tonight, handsome. Wrong time of the month. I'm only here because they wanted to party," I said motioning towards Jennifer and Janey with my hand. "But I thought you were..." "You thought I was what, Sugah?" I asked smiling at him sweetly. I tried to give him the sincere look I had practiced before the mirror. "Never mind. Ah... I've got to go." With that he was off like a shot. I watched nostril hair depart then looked out at the dance floor and watched my wife dancing with another man. He had her breasts flattened against his chest and his hand was riding on the top of her derriere moving slowly in ever widening circles and she was doing nothing to discourage him. If this was really a party of Janey's friends, they were a crude bunch. Of course if Janey got along with them that was explanation enough. Janey was the first one back. "I didn't think you could hold on to a real man," she sneered. "Some girls don't know when they've got it good." "I just don't understand," I said in my best bimbo voice imitation. The suit had changed my voice to soprano and my dulcet like tones helped make my dumb blond act convincing. I even put one hand to my chest and fluttered my eyelids. "I used your Roach Motel mouthwash before we came. First time I said something, he was out of here like a shot!" Janey's dancing partner had taken in the exchange and he suddenly broke out in hilarious laughter. Janey... umm, she didn't seem so pleased. "May I have this dance," said Janey's partner. I couldn't resist. Taking a man away from Janey? It was too delicious to pass up. Hey, I was just going with the flow! "Why sure, Sugah, for a handsome thing like you. Don't let me breathe on you though. Might bring the evening to a quick end if y'all have the wrong type relatives." And then I batted my eyelids. He laughed in delighted merriment and quickly swept me to the dance floor. "Ouch!" he said a minute later. Both of us were learning that to be lead instead of leading was not an easy OJT for me. "Sugah, I thought I saw a roach. That's all that was." He laughed some more, still good natured about my unexplainable awkwardness. "Must be a lot of them right around where we're dancing," he said grinning at me. "Dead ones, probably," I said giving him the warm grin I had practiced at home. He laughed heartily. It was a laugh of appreciation and had a deep in the belly sound. He seemed a nice guy and as we danced I felt a little sorry for taking him away from Janey. Maybe if she had someone of her own, she wouldn't be such an unrelenting strident nag. On second thought - nah! As Popeye always said, 'She was what she was'. "Are you here for the fun and games later?" "Fun and games later? Sugah, I'm not sure I know what y'all are talking about." He held me away from him so he could study my face. "You really don't know," he said shaking his head inquisitively. "Sugah, if you would tell me, then I would know." I batted my eyes at him for encouragement. The song ended and he hastily returned me to our table and left immediately. Must have been something wrong with the way I batted my eyes! Jennifer had just sat down when he dumped me and ran. "Fucking great! It's not enough that you drive off your own men, now you have to drive mine off too. You little fag," Janey said. She was nearly shouting. Her affection for me was growing by the minute! "Sugah, I just don't understand," I said giving the old bimbo routine another try. I even remembered to put a hand to my chest again. "He just seemed to go all funny like when I told him about you and your Great Dane being so all intimate like!" Janey let out a shriek that stopped the conversation for five tables around us, then grabbed her glass and by the way she was holding it, I knew I was about to get a shower. I hoped she remembered to hold on to the glass. "Janey, for God sakes," Jennifer said loudly. Janey held the glass poised in her hand and glared at me with naked hatred. It took a few moments before she could control her emotions enough to place her glass back on the table. She started to speak once then looked away. With that she rose and stomped off. I may not have been her favorite person at that moment. Jennifer whirled to face me, her mood totally black. Jeez! Maybe the shower would have been better, glass and all. "Is that what you're going to do, deliberately ruining my evening - after you promised. Is this all my wants mean to you?" "It was humor. A joke! I'm not supposed to make jokes?" Jennifer looked at me for a moment trying to gage whether I was telling the truth. "Then why did he leave so abruptly?" "I'm not certain. I don't have that much experience in dealing with men from a woman's perspective. And, my lovely wife, I'm here in this ridiculous getup only because I'm trying to please you - not ruin your evening." "A little fag like you ought to know all pleasing men," snapped Janey. Like McArthur, she had returned during the last part of our conversation. It was a shame she hadn't found a dirty toilet to clean with her head. Had to be plenty of those around, especially in a dump like this. "What did you talk about?" Jennifer asked. "Mostly my dancing. If you saw my attempts at dancing the female part, you could see I'm not very good. Oh! He asked if I was part of the fun and games afterwards." Janey and Jennifer looked at one another in alarm and then both turned back to me. "What did you tell him?" Jennifer demanded. "The truth, that I wasn't. That I didn't know a thing about them." "Oh my God, you didn't? Can't you just go along with things for once? Is that too much to ask?" Jennifer was near tears. "You bastard. You little fag bastard," snarled Janey. With that she jumped up and stalked off towards the bar. When I looked around a moment later Janey was in deep conversation with a very large male. He was almost a carbon copy of the large bruiser that had checked us into the club. They both were looking at me and neither of their looks made me feel comfortable. A minute later Janey returned to the table. When I looked at her she couldn't help giving me a victorious smirk. I looked quizzically at her and she quickly looked away. Suddenly my wrist was seized and lifted above my head and painfully bent. I found myself, totally helpless, yielding to the pressure. "If you struggle, we'll hurt you, Sweetcheeks," said a deep male voice. I stopped trying to get up and the male's grip soon had me leaned so far backward in the chair that I was totally helpless. He knew his business. The other male beside him reached into a pocket and withdrew something. I felt something cool being wrapped around my wrist then heard a metallic click. My wrist was released and when I straightened and brought my arm to the table there was a pink metal wrist-cuff locked on me. Instinctively I tried to slide it off and found that it would not go over my hand. Not even close! When I looked up the big bruiser was smiling patronizing at me. "Now you won't be confusing people anymore," he said. He reached down and patted my cheek in a threatening manner. "Be a good little girl now. If I have to come back to this table to deal with you, you won't like what happens, Sweetcheeks." I felt my cheeks grow warm. The bastard was threatening me in front of witnesses and doing so with impunity. I looked at Jennifer and found she wouldn't meet my eyes. Janey's expression was so jubilant she was beside herself. Satisfied his message had been received, and understood, the mastodon and his friend turned and walked back to the bar. "What's going on, Jennifer? She wouldn't look at me. "You're going to learn humility, asshole," Janey said her voice filled with the thrill of anticipation. "Jennifer?" "You said you'd go along. Its not like you haven't done this before." "Done what before, Jennifer?" "As if you didn't know," Janey said. "You little fag." "Jennifer?" "Quit picking on me," she said angrily. She looked away without meeting my eyes. I stopped myself from asking my next question. Jennifer was in her defensive mode and any attempt at discussion beyond this point would lead to a shouting match. I had never been able to figure out what set her mood strangeness off but I knew the signs of an approaching emotional storm well. I looked around and saw our table was the center of all attention. I leaned back and took what appeared to be a long sip from my drink. Obviously something was going down. Something that involved me and pleased Janey to no end! That meant it was something I would be much, much better off not experiencing. As I fingered the heavy pink manacle now locked on my wrist I knew I had to try to screw up Janey's plans otherwise I would forever be her victim. The continual screwing I had endured at work had taught me there was little intrinsic value in the 'I'm a good kid' persona. As a defense, it was worthless. The military had taught me an almost similar lesson. When I looked up both women were looking at me, with different expressions. "I'll go get us another round. What would you like to drink?" I asked. Jennifer seemed slightly relieved. Janey - she was still smirking. I took their orders and slowly got up checking out as much of the place as I could. As I walked to the bar I saw the mastodon and his partner who had manhandled me position themselves so if I made a run for the door they could intercept. Their positioning and noxious staring was not in the least subtle. I stood at the end of the bar then walked to a spot in the middle and leaned way over. As the bartender turned to fill my order I made a distracting shake of my head sending my ponytail flying and dropped the blue pill Jennifer had given me earlier into a large pitcher of margaritas. If it was good for me, had to be good for many. I prayed the pill didn't fizz or color the margaritas. That Janey was drinking Margaritas made me feel even better. After I got back to the table I forced myself to relax and go with the flow - so to speak! I knew the girls along others in the club were watching me intently. Twenty-five minutes later I was just returning from the dance floor when Jennifer and Janey returned from the rest room. The club was filling rapidly and now was the only time I might have a chance of controlling my own destiny. "I've got to tinkle. I think I'll freshen my make up." With that I stood, grabbed my purse and walked off towards the restroom. Two steps later I bumped into jerk number one, Mr. Nostril hair himself. He grabbed my wrist with the metal bracelet and examined it closely. When he looked up his face was set in an ugly smile. "Well, Sweetcheeks, you get to show me you're not a lesbian after all. I'm especially looking forward to that. Nature abhors virginity you know." Any remaining doubts about the bracelet or the evening planned for me vanished. Janey had set me up and Jennifer was going along with it. Immense, painful, soul-wrenching sadness washed through me. My marriage to Jennifer, for practical purposes, was over - her mother had won. What I had been afraid to face for some time now was a fact I could no longer ignore. Like work, no matter how hard I continued to try to satisfy Jennifer, no matter what I did, it wouldn't be enough. And becoming a total patsy wouldn't change that - it would only make me more miserable. A part of me that had struggled mightily to make the marriage work died at that moment. The Easter Bunny, the Great Pumpkin, and Santa Claus all die sometime - but coming to grips with reality doesn't mean you have to like it. I leaned forward so I could whisper conspiratorially at him. "Not right now, Sugah. I'm on my way to the rest room. I have to tinkle. Too many drinks, small kidneys." He smirked at me but stood aside and let me pass. My experiences with the opposite sex had taught me that bathroom is the magic password. With out making it obvious, I scanned the room as I walked. Too many people were still watching me, especially the bouncer, his friend, the bartender and a number of other employees. I had no doubt that if I attempted to exit, I would be stopped. I walked down the hall and when I got to the women's restroom I kept going. I was looking for an exit door, or anything that might be useful in getting me out of 'Club Gigi' before the real festivities began. I turned a corner in the hallway. "Hey, broad! What're you doing back here?" Oh, God, another one! A second look changed my opinion. The out front were the muscle boys, this guy was a serious player. He carried a piece and undoubtedly knew how to use it. I pegged him as a possible hit man - his manner was that serious. "I'm tryshing to take tinkle pinkle," I giggled as if inebriated. "The restroom is back behind you." There was absolutely no humor in his voice. "Wheresh? I didn't see?" And with that I looked all around me. "Move your ass, or I'll move it for you, bitch," he said coldly. He had the hostile part of badass down pat and if I pressed any further, he would bring pain - bad pain. And the most humiliating part of the encounter for me - the boredom in his voice. Inflicting pain on a defenseless victim such as myself didn't even cause a shiver of excitement in him. His coldness, his dark uncaring unfeeling gaze made me shiver and it turned my previous discomfort into galloping fear. I wouldn't wish him on my worst enemy. I turned and staggered away mumbling loudly to myself. Just before I had turned I had seen something I thought might be helpful. I found the ladies restroom and went into a stall. When the two women at the mirror left, I jumped up, grabbed the face towels and toilet paper from the other stalls, and quickly plugged the sinks. I also used the roll in my booth and one other to plug the stool I was sitting on. I hated reaching into that stool water, but my bad feelings had increased exponentially when I had stumbled into the carnivore in the hall. I quickly turned on all the sinks and tried to jam them open. Then I flushed the toilet and broke the float mechanism in the stool so it could not be repaired. I smiled in satisfaction as the stool started overflowing. I dried my arm off hurriedly, stepped out into the hall and walked partly down the hallway towards the professional badass. I stayed just out of his sight around the corner. When I noticed two women open the door to the restroom and walk in I hurried over and pretended to walk in behind them. "What all you done?" I asked looking at them accusingly. "We didn't do anything. It was like this when we got here." "I'll go get help," I said. I went running down the hall to Mr. badass. God help me if this didn't work for it wouldn't take long for people to figure out who the real culprit was. "Help! Tribble in women's bashroom! All fushed... tribble," I said trying to shriek drunkenly. He was looking at me and slowly got up and moved to the corner and looked around it. The two women had come out of the restroom and were holding the door opened looking inside. The two women saw him simultaneously and both started talking at once. One of them motioned with her arm at him. They wanted him to come. Badass looked at me and I moved with him like I was going to follow then bent down to adjust the strap on my shoe. I was trying hard to look as if my interest was in the other women and whatever was in the bathroom. He evaluated me as a drunken broad, low risk at worst, and started around the corner and down the hall towards the bathroom and the two women. As he passed I saw his gun. It was in a quick draw holster slightly to his back right and its position and the wear on the holster clearly said professional. It also said he had left his jacket on the back of his chair. The moment he was around the corner I tip toed the opposite way until I was around the corner from him then I put it in high gear. I grabbed badass's jacket off the back of the chair and quickly gave it a frisk. I felt a lighter in one of the side pockets and a wallet. My hand closed on the lighter and I withdrew it as I proceeded moving rapidly down the hall. It was one of those butane torch jobs - at least that's what I always called them. On a whim, I opened a door, saw a half full trashcan, tossed it on the floor then flamed a piece of paper. Once it ignited I carefully closed the door and wiped my prints from the doorknob. Three steps later I was in front of the fire alarm. I tripped it! A deafening wail filled the hall and for a moment I froze. Then I remembered the great peril I was in if killer came back around the corner and found me here. Seconds later I slammed through the fire escape door at the back of the building running for all I was worth. Thank God I hadn't worn those high heels Janey had gotten for me! This entire area gave me the willies but I had to get at least two blocks away before the search started for me to have any serious chance of getting away. Less than fifteen minutes later I was standing outside a friend's condo. I had gotten lucky - a cab had just dropped a fare around the corner from Club Gigi. No way was I going home tonight. My marriage was over and besides being sad, I was pissed. Letting Jennifer wonder what I was doing for once (and where I was), instead of vice versa, would be good for her soul - a little of the shoe on the other foot. And besides, it was probably best to let tempers cool. I really didn't want to encounter Janey's friends, if they really were that, right away. In the dark of night they still might be interested in playing me victim for their version of slap and tickle. In the light of day, and me no longer in this stupid victim suit Jennifer had talked me into wearing, any risk to me should lessen considerably. I was angry enough that I didn't even feel bad about leaving Jennifer and Janey there - they had chosen Club Gigi of their own free will. Getting my life reordered, an ordering I now knew wouldn't include Jennifer, was my primary focus. And regardless of my anger at Jennifer for what she was going to let happen to me, I knew the process was still going to be painful. I had loved her, did still in many ways, but whatever I thought we'd once had, had died tonight at Club Gigi. Now if only Roger didn't have company he didn't want interrupted with. I knew he was home because his BMW was in the driveway and his lights were on. Summoning up my courage I knocked. When Roger came to the door I announced who I was and gave him enough company data that my true identity should be obvious. I heard a car door slam down the street and looked quickly that way - just in case. When I looked back Roger was staring fervidly. "Don't ask," I said. "It's really you, Paul?" I nodded in what can only be described as resignation. Roger let me in but his smugness irritated me to the bone. Though I liked Roger, he had an ego that sometimes grated. Now was one of those times. Part of it came from the fact that he was quite good looking and knew it. A Mediterranean olive complexion and jet-black hair had a lot to do with making him quite noticeable to the opposite sex. Hell, even the air of his apartment smelled like sex! Like to know how he managed that! When I was in the middle of his living room I turned to face him. "Don't smirk, Roger! It's not what you think. It was to please Jennifer - part of a disguise party thing Janey's Company was throwing." "Janey?" Suddenly Roger burst out laughing -hilariously. It was a gut-busting laugh - at my expense. Glad one of us was finding the situation humorous. "You went somewhere with Janey dressed like that?" He finally managed pointing at my... the suits boobs. Roger was one of the few at Alkali Industries that I enjoyed talking with and he had first hand knowledge about the antagonism between myself and Janey. Because of his friendship with me, Janey quite often took shots at him. Tonight, seeing him in his specially chosen setting, his apartment, I wondered about that. He was quite the lady killer so why was Janey so immune to his charms? "Let me get this straight," he asked. "You went to Janey's company function dressed like that? That's like committing Sepulchre with a butter knife. You'll never live this down, you know!" And with that Roger promptly broke out in more laughter - the ass! I winced. Why hadn't I thought of that earlier? No doubt Janey would use my being in a female body suit as evidence of something only her twisted little mind could conjure up. Then I realized it really made little difference any more. I thought about telling Roger I was quits with Jennifer then thought better of it. I needed his help and Roger's loyalty to Alkali might be strong than to a casual friend. "No, the party was at a local joint. You ever heard of Club Gigi?" I asked. Roger's smirk immediately disappeared. He looked at me strangely and then looked all around us to make sure we weren't observed. Since we were inside his condo his action seemed a bit surprising. He was acting like he had just seen a poisonous snake. "You didn't cause any problems did you? I know you, Paul, tell me you didn't cause problems?" I looked at him curiously. Perhaps it was best not to tell him about screwing up their bathroom, or about setting the wastebasket fire, or about triggering the fire alarm or stealing badass's coat and wallet. Actually, other than that I had been well behaved! "They put this on me, forcibly," I said holding up my wrist for him to inspect the bracelet. "Fuck!" His arm moved violently and he turned away in anger. His expletive stunned me. Obviously he knew something and that something was not good. "Can you help me get this off?" Roger looked back at me - he was thinking, evaluating. Time passed as we stood staring at one another in silence. "Roger, this is me, your old buddy, Paul. Can't you get me something to cut this off?" "Why are you getting me involved in this, Paul?" "I'm not getting you involved in anything. Get me your small saw, let me cut this off, spend the night on your couch and I'm out of here in the morning. No one will ever know." Roger remained unmoving, indecision was written all over him. I didn't understand his hesitancy but it was starting to scare me. "Roger," I said plaintively. "You promise you won't tell anyone if I help you?" What in Sam Hill had him so spooked? "I promise, Roger. And while you're getting the saw, can you tell me a little about Club Gigi?" "No," he shouted. I drew back slightly confused by his vehemence. What was wrong with him? "And if you're smart, you won't ask anyone else. Someone finds out you're asking questions, you'll get hurt," he finished. He stared hard at me trying to force my agreement. I looked at him and realized he was scared - real scared. Roger is 6'2", pretty well muscled, has his share of money, and has a really good position within Alkali Industries. And he was scared. I had seen the emotion to many times while in the service to mistake it for anything else. Though I was bursting with curiosity, I realized pushing Roger might jeopardize the help he was on the verge of giving me. I nodded affirmatively. Roger got up and went into the kitchen, then out into his garage. While he was gone, I looked around his condo. It was a real bachelors pad. It had all the latest expensive gimmicks, like a new giant flat screen TV, DVD, a very expensive laptop that had to be showroom fresh, a stereo that looked sleekly expensive and other things I would have had a ball with just trying to figure out what they were for. I hadn't realized Roger got paid so well. As I waited for his return I thought about his reaction. How was it that Jennifer and Janey had managed to become associated with Club Gigi if it scared Roger so badly? As I thought about things my anger returned in force. Company party indeed! No one had come up to Janey and said hello, as they should have if she had been among associates. What a smuck they had played me for! I couldn't help wondering if Jennifer's mother knew? After a moments reflection I knew at least the answer to that, she had to! Caselton was a company town - her company's town. TO BE CONTINUED *** WRITERS WANTED - if you would like to be a part of this series, episodes written by different authors for fun and giggles, please contact [email protected] and please read the corresponding after story story line. We are also having fun with each other's nome de plumes.