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CLEANER By Emma PART ONE Once I had eaten the breakfast my cook had made for me, spent an hour or two picking out the clothes I wanted to wear for the day and lounged by the pool for a while, I caught myself looking at my reflection in the wall high mirror in my dressing room. And yawned. Not because I was tired. I was very beautiful you see. Actually I was gorgeous. Many men had told me so. But this (though very flattering at first of course) was starting to become very boring. I was beginning to realize that the ivory box I had built up around myself kept me in as much as it kept other people out. What I decided I needed was a return to something a bit more real. There were thousands of real lives out there in the world that I could have lived. One morning I was scanning through the satellite channels looking for anything to amuse me and I found myself more absorbed in what my cleaner was doing. I started to watch her all the time. Melissa wasn't that much older than I but she was my opposite in almost every other way. Whereas I had long slim beautiful legs, hers were fat and stocky as much as the rest of her body. My small but elegant breasts were dwarfed by the huge ones that hung from her chest. She wore thick glasses when I could see perfectly. As for her hair, it was a little bob, swept back from her face, the base of her neck shaved close to the skin, while my luxurious blond hair was forever dropping seductively (and in a way I found utterly irritating) over one eye. She'd be down on her knees, swabbing, or dusting around me, or Hoovering the floor. She felt uncomfortable doing these things with me watching but I liked to, and I was the boss. It made me feel funny to imagine someone doing something like that for a living. It was so simple. I lay, imagining what it would be like having such a simple purpose in life - something to occupy my time so completely. It made me want the same thing, curiously. I wanted to live with such purity. Of course I could have fired her and done my own cleaning, but there would have been no necessity. I didn't want to just do it. I wanted some kind of transformation to occur. I wanted to have to do it. So one day I went up to her and I stood there, long legs smooth and slim in high heels filling her field of view as she scrubbed, and I asked if she wanted to trade places with me. For the day. She thought I was joking. As I continued to insist she thought I was crazy. I could see the fear in her eyes that I was setting her up for some kind of practical joke. I reassured her and offered her money to go along with it. In the end she agreed. We went up to my dressing room, huge, plush, warm and furry. I knew it was probably bigger than her whole house. I told her to go into the wardrobe, the massive, corridor long wardrobe, and choose anything she could fit into to wear. She chose a silk, slinky trouser outfit held up by elastic that left her arms bare. It barely fit but made her look almost good. I helped her with her hair and make-up, showing her how to do it. Then I turned my attention to her clothes. I disrobed and climbed into them: the shapeless dress that looked sack-like on my slim body, the clunky shoes. I brushed my hair out straight and lank and then I slipped her pebble glasses on, going instantly blind. It felt so good to undergo this transformation - to become her. We stood there gawking at each other and then I demanded that she take my place and I hers - that she call me Melissa. And for the rest of the day, I scurried round doing the cleaning while she watched television and swam in the pool. She was greatly bemused by the whole thing but I paid her a whole lot of money to keep it to herself. We even hid our escapades from the other servants... * * * For the following weeks this is how it went. Whenever she came we switched places, her languishing while I worked. Spending so long as Melissa was therapeutic. It was great to be someone else for a while. It wasn't enough however. I started to insist that she spend her days working out on the extensive exercise equipment I had in my mansion. She grumbled at first but seemed to like the idea, as if she'd always wanted to get trim but had never had the willpower before. I, meanwhile, started grossing out on junk food. Cream, chips, burgers, bacon, chocolate, crisps. And the pounds started adding up. It only took a couple of weeks for my perfect figure to become just average and then start to lean towards plump. I managed somehow, with constant obsessional effort, to be able to see through Melissa's glasses, my brain making the necessary adjustments. Then the headaches began in the evenings that only went away when Melissa came next morning and I stuck her heavy frames on my nose. I became Melissa's personal trainer, bawling her out if she didn't do enough exercise. I gave her money for contact lenses. And all the while I made sure she kept it a secret at home, although they must have noticed her starting to slim. I meanwhile stopped seeing my boring old friends. I only wrote or spoke on the phone. But I kept promising a comeback. After about six weeks of this I had Melissa tell her husband that I had asked her to accompany me on holiday for three months. Apparently he was put out but the money I offered persuaded him to let his sweetheart leave. Melissa was getting into this. She loved pretending to be me. As soon as we left town we switched places. She became me (Nobody out there recognized me) and I became her servant and travelling companion. We went to Los Angeles and as she lay on the beach and went swimming in the pool I scurried about fetching her things. All the while though, I porked out on fatty foods while making sure she exercised. After the first month I found that I could hardly see now if I removed my glasses. I say "my" because twenty-four hours a day now, I was Melissa. And I was fat. My breasts were becoming enormous, my chin had dissolving into a large fold. Then the final stage came. We both had plastic surgery. Working from photographs of our original states, we had the surgeons reconstruct our faces until we looked identical to one another. My eyes were pushed closer together, my nose hooked downwards. My ears were enlarged. We had our hair done, hers now long, straight and blond, mine thick, dark, short and cut straight in a bob just below my ears. After we had recovered she looked beautiful. She looked exactly like the retired model Topaz. And I looked like her cleaner. I stood in my hotel room, staring in the mirror at a face I recognized. It was Melissa's face. I had been transformed completely. I looked exactly like her from the fat legs crammed into high heeled shoes, past the bulging hips and stomach, the enormous breasts, all crammed into a shapeless short sleeved dress; her face with its gaping little eyes and saggy chin, the thick glasses. I was no longer the woman I had been in any way. Even our voices, through long and arduous practice had come to resemble the others'. I was her. * * * It was then that we returned. When we got back to the house my butler remarked on how Topaz was back to her real self. He had become a little worried that she had been putting on weight. He was relieved to see she was "back to normal." I loved the anonymity. The butler treated me exactly as though I were a lowly servant. I was scum beneath his shoes. He saw me as Melissa. I was Melissa now. We had sorted it out while away. Now we were back she was to take my place completely. I had briefed her on every little detail she needed to know. Anything else she could improvise. I had even told her intricate details about my finances. I wanted her to have complete control. I wanted to leave my old life behind completely. Not completely obviously. This process was strange - I'll admit that it was obsessional - but I still had my head glued on. Before we proceeded with the final stages I had insisted that Melissa sign an agreement to keep my private details secret and that she didn't actually retain rights to anything of mine. I decided that the swap would go on for six months. After that time we would reverse the process. I'd give Melissa a generous bonus to take away with her and I might even write a book about my experiences. It was going to be a fantastic busman's holiday, superior to any that had been taken before. I was a different person now. It was so relaxing! I just didn't realise that the new Topaz was getting far too used to her new life... CLEANER - PART TWO I put the mop and bucket away and walked back across to where I'd left my shoes. They formed an inverted reflection in the marble floor at the foot of the wall mirror that stood next to the cloakroom and I caught a glimpse of myself lumbering towards them as I got close. It wasn't long since the bandages from the plastic surgery had been removed and it startled me seeing this other woman - this fat woman. I moved closer, touching my face and watching the mirror woman doing the same. Melissa's face, the fold of soft skin hanging from her chin making her face round, her thick glasses, doubling the size of her eyes beyond them - these were mine now. It was my face. Even my hand and my arm were such a complete contrast to my old form, bulging and round. In the kink of my elbow the doughy flesh pressed outward, seeming even chubbier than it was. My dress was a new one I picked up abroad. It was blue and straight, stopping high enough to reveal my chunky calves and knees, leaving my arms bare and displaying some of my monstrous cleavage. Through the fabric I gripped the bulge of my stomach and squeezed it in. It was months since I started this little experiment, to assume the guise and daily working persona of my cleaner, but every SINGLE time I had cause to look down at myself or see myself in a mirror or window, it startled the hell out of me. I was Topaz. As a model there was a time when I was on the cover of at least one glossy magazine every month. I had been voted Vogue top model of the year twice running. I was the "face" of a perfume called Diabolique. I was the perfect embodiment of beauty and the poster girl of anorexics everywhere. But looking into the mirror, I could see that I wasn't Topaz anymore. If there was a slim supermodel behind this face she was covered in rivers of fat. Not even the face was hers anymore with its slightly hooked nose and close-set eyes. Fingerprints and dental records were the only thing that said who I really was beneath it all now. Even my past wasn't purely mine anymore. I had given it to my cleaner. While we'd been away I had drilled stories into Melissa's head, filling her mind with anecdotes that only I could have known and getting her to fill my mind up too. I wanted our disguises to be perfect. I wanted that because the next stage was for both of us to step out into the light of day for all to see. There couldn't be any slip-ups. So in almost every way I wasn't Topaz anymore. She was. I was Melissa. The cleaner. The fat one. It scared me actually - to look at that face gaping back at me. I knew Melissa would never cheat me - the fortune I had offered her to switch temporarily would hold her in check - but it made me a little edgy to think that if something happened to her, people might not believe who I really was. It was a delicious feeling. I grinned. I'd never had a high like this or felt so alive. I looked down at my chubby bare feet, pulling my dress clear. I'd painted the toenails pink to match my fingernails. Another shiver of shock to look at them and think they were mine but a shimmer of delight too. I tried to push them into my heels. It was a strain. I had to hook my fingers into the backs to act as a shoehorn and that was a further strain. I wheezed, trying to crease this fat body. Finally they were in and I took another glance at myself. Melissa. Me. I straightened my bob, trying not to be too surprised as I always was when I saw straight dark brown where it had once been curly blond, then turned and walked into the depths of the house looking for my "boss." * * * Topaz was climbing out of the pool as I approached, reaching for a towel. She scowled at me as she threw the towel over her shoulder. "Melissa, I thought I told you to scrub the hall floor by hand. I just had Roger check up on you." He was the butler. "He said you were using the mop." I was taken aback by her tone. It was imperious and patronising. She'd never used it before. "If you expect to clean for me then you'd better get used to doing it right. I expect that marble to gleam, do you understand me?" I mumbled "Yes." "Do you understand me Melissa?" I lowered my head. "Yes miss." I hadn't prompted this. Her hostility was purely of her own making. It made me feel subordinate - inferior. I loved it! Topaz slipped her feet delicately into her heels and walked gracefully round to the near side of her sun lounger. She looked gorgeous, smooth long legs and slender arms. Her stomach had only a slight roundness to it that accentuated her femininity. Her curly blond hair was tied up into a bun at her crown. She sat, then casually slinked one leg over the other. I nervously twiddled my fingers, waiting for her to dismiss me. "As you're aware Melissa," she said, "today the two of us will be truly swapping roles. I will be attending a party where I will announce my intention to make a comeback. You will return home to your squalid little house." "Yes," I said, kept off balance by the way she was suddenly taking control of our interactions. "Obviously it's important that you don't break from character at any point." "Yes." "Is that clear Melissa?" "Yes miss." "Your 'husband' hasn't seen you for several months - that will help matters - but if I hear that you have bungled things up then there's going to be hell to pay." I made a flicker of eye contact but looked away. She was glaring right at my face and I didn't like to meet her gaze. "What that means," said Topaz, the temperature of her voice dropping, "is that if you make any mistakes you might end up living my old life forever." I gaped at her. She sounded serious. It was genius. I loved it! I hadn't prompted any of this. She was embellishing the situation with her own ideas. I knew she wasn't really serious obviously, but it added an enormous amount of spice. "Is that clear?" she snapped. "Yes miss." "Good." She uncrossed and recrossed her legs the other way. "Now get out there and scrub that floor. Once it's done you can go." I turned to leave, relieved that I didn't have to face her anymore. "And Melissa?" I looked back. She picked up a magazine and started scanning it. "Do a good job this time. Your work has been really slack lately." I grinned. I couldn't help it. "This is great!" I said, "You're really playing the part. You'll get a healthy bonus at the end of this Melissa." She turned her eyes up to me and glared. The muscles in her cheeks hardened. "Don't presume to speak to me like that cleaner," she snapped, "I think if you look in the mirror you'll see who Melissa is and who is Topaz." "But I-" She threw down the magazine and came up to me, grabbing a chunk of hair at the back of my neck. There was a free-standing mirror to my right and she swung me round, my face wincing from the needles of pain in my scalp. "Look!" she said, "Look there in the mirror!" The reflection showed both of us, my chubby body cowering, face contorted with pain and fear, her athletic form standing over me, her features hard-edged with anger. "Who's fat?" she demanded. "Me," I whined. "Who's ugly?" "Me." "Who's nothing but a worthless cleaner?" "Me!" She threw me forward and I fell to the floor at the foot of the mirror. She came up behind me, dominating the glass, hands on hips. "And who's beautiful - hmmm? Who's a rich and famous model? Who owns all this?" Under my breath I mumbled "You." "I can't hear you Melissa!" "You do." "That's right." She folded her arms. "Now I told you not to slip up and give the game away. You just called me Melissa. That's your first life gone. If it happens a third time then you can say goodbye to ever getting your old life back." My knees were stinging from where she threw me down. I wiped my eye with the heel of my hand. "Yes miss. I'm sorry miss." "Now get up and get back to work. What do you think I'm paying you for." I struggled up, still not used to the extra bulk. I was carrying almost my own body weight again in fat. Any kind of challenging movement like that was difficult. Topaz took her seat again on the sun lounger, laying back this time, legs crossed, magazine resting on her thighs. She ignored me. I started to speak but decided not to. It was tempting to blow my last two "lives" here and now and see what she said and did. My face was tingling. But I didn't. To be honest, I was afraid of her. I didn't want to make her mad again. So I just backed slowly away and went out to scrub the hall floor on my hands and knees. CLEANER - PART THREE I stopped in mid-scrub, bent over, knees cold on the hard marble in the hallway, face less than a foot from the floor. There was a pair of pale feet in front of me suddenly in gold high-heeled sandals. The skin was delicate and white. Each nail was perfectly varnished in pale rose pink. I lifted my head, slowly tracing up the smooth line of her legs. She was close - very close to me. I could smell the scent of the Diabolique, dabbed into the backs of her knees and the scent of her skin itself. Topaz stood right over me, dressed now in a short flouncy skirt and a sheer, multi-layered, patterned vest top. Her hair was down and divinely "done," wisps jetting out to the sides. Her face was a picture. My old face. My eyes moistened to see her dressed up like that, ready to return to the world. For the last two years I had withdrawn to the sanctum of my home. I had grown weary of the parties and the glitter and although I had been tempted many times to return to it all, I never had. To see her now, going in my place, cut me in some small way but made me very proud too. I had created this woman. Now, with absolute confidence, she was ready to assume my former glory. "The floor's much better now Melissa," she said, "You've done a good job. Well done." I smiled feeling real pride at the compliment. "Thank you Topaz." "I was a little hard on you earlier and I should really apologise." "It doesn't matter," I blurted, still craning up at her. "No, it does matter," she said, "You work very hard and I appreciate it." I felt a surge of contentment then checked myself. It seemed ludicrous that I should take pride in cleaning well while my cleaner pranced about in my clothes. But I did. I felt proud of myself. "Now get out the way will you," said Topaz, her voice cooling again instantly, "You're blocking the door and Roger's waiting to drive me to my party." I got to my feet, my back creaking and shuffled out of the way, remembered the bucket and scurried back to clear that too. Topaz waited impatiently, arms folded, foot tapping. "I'll just be a moment miss," I said. Then I dropped the scrubber and it splattered drops of water up Topaz's legs. She lurched back from shock, arms up. Then the expression of surprise on her face was consumed by her fury. "Look what you did you stupid fat bitch! Look at me! Can't you do anything right?" I mumbled several apologies, adrenaline pumping into my bloodstream leaving me wired. "I'm sorry miss. Let me help dry you off." "Don't - touch me!" She held out her palm to face me. I stepped back. "Fetch a clean towel!" "Yes miss." "Now!" I scurried to the airing cupboard and returned as fast as I could, wheezing from the exertion. "Quickly," snapped Topaz. I handed her the towel. She swiped her legs with it briefly then threw it over the top of my bucket. "Be more careful in future idiot!" "I'm sorry." She narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you will be if it happens again." She stalked past me. I watched her open the door, leaving it carelessly open, and go out to the waiting car. All the glory and fame that had been mine was waiting for her. The car would take her to the photographers and celebrities and bright lights and inane conversations. I only wished I were going in her place for a moment. Then I remembered why I left that world in the first place. Topaz threw me a glance as the door was shut for her. For a second a shiver of what could have been disgust passed over her face before it was replaced by a sneering smile which broke out into a grin. As the car pulled away she was laughing loud enough for me to hear her through the glass, her head back, slender neck exposed. * * * THE ORIGINAL MELISSA I laughed until my throat got sore. I had to make myself stop. To see my stupid ignorant arrogant boss reduced to the state she was now - standing there in my old fat body, watching me leave. I hated my body and life as Melissa. She was welcome to it. All the years I had worked for Topaz, scurrying round while she lounged by the pool reading magazines, I'd felt the envy turn to bitterness and then to hate. I hated her arrogance, the air of superiority she always carried. I hated the fact her life had reached a point mine never could. I hated the irritation and impatience she had around her trainer when she put on the slightest amount of weight. Now she'd put on a bit of extra weight. She was every bit as huge as I had ever been. How surprised that after all that hate and jealousy, she had come to me with a request to swap places? How eagerly had I accepted, pretending to be scared and surprised? To be honest I had been surprised. Surprised at how foolish and short-sighted she could be and how happily she could give away everything she possessed to me. I played along. I insisted she pay me for the trouble I was going to, all along not believing that she'd push all the way. Despite my desire for a thinner body, my depression had always drained my resolve to slim. With her pushing me and the hope that she would give it all up spurring me on, I trained harder than I could have believed possible. And all the time, she loved pretending to be me - loved putting on weight and looking worse and worse each day. When she asked me if I would have plastic surgery and temporarily assume her life completely, I had to bite my lip to stop myself laughing in her face. You stupid stupid woman, I thought. Don't you realise that I'll never let you take it back from me? And now I had it. I was the model. I was Topaz. It was my long legs and slender body that languished by the pool. It was her chubby form that bent down on hands and knees to clean. Every day was a pleasure that outdistanced the last. I gloried in the punishment I gave her, each belittling remark and put-down a thank you for the years I'd suffered under her reign. And now I was on my way to meet her fans and her friends while she was about to find out just how bad my old home life was. Except her fans and friends were mine now. If she were there she'd be a laughing stock. I was going to be a queen. * * * THE ORIGINAL TOPAZ As a model I had quite a large staff. Anything I wanted or needed I got instantly. I owned a car and hired a jet if I needed to go anywhere. I wasn't used to public transport. Or the two-mile walk to the tube station. I had notes in my big black short-handled handbag detailing exactly where my new home was, the layout of the interior and details of its other inhabitants. I ran my eyes over these, trying to ignore the overpowering odour from the dirty man pressed up against my right and the perfume stink from the woman on my left. Two small children sat opposite pulling faces at me. They kept whispering to one another then looking at me and giggling. Their mother leaned over to them and said "Shhh. She can't help being so fat." He voice was low. She hadn't meant for me to hear. But I had. I sighed, feeling for the first time a bubble of depression at my new state. I saw myself in my minds eye how they saw me. The concealed sneers of disgust. Thank God I'm not that fat. The private smiles. At least my glasses aren't that thick. I drew my handbag closer and buried my face in my notes. It was stupid to take any notice. This was who I wanted to be for now. I'd spent months of effort getting to this state. I shouldn't feel ashamed of myself. And I could return to my former beauty whenever I wanted. This fat nobody they were seeing wasn't the real me. Beneath the bulges I was still as gorgeous as ever. All it would take to return to my former persona would be a word with my double. She was probably feeling way out of her depth. * * * THE ORIGINAL MELISSA How many people told me I was looking better than I ever had? I smiled at them all, swallowing what seemed like never ending praise from all around me. It was unnerving at first but looking so different made it infinitely easier. I was disconnected from all my old neuroses and fears because they had gone with the old body. Now, looking like this goddess, I was completely free! I couldn't stop talking and mixing, greeting celebrities as though they were old friends. I'd never been as charming or erudite. I'd never had the confidence. But inside me there must have been a socialite all along, waiting for this opportunity to emerge. The eyes of the men were all over me. Not since we had been abroad for the switch had I felt this and the intensity was a hundredfold. This was fame. This was life like I had never experienced. I would never go back. I would kill her first. I would never let that bitch anywhere near this life again. * * * THE ORIGINAL TOPAZ I opened the door to my new home, my skin tingling. I'd never seen even the exterior before but I knew it intimately from the descriptions Topaz had drilled into me. I hung up my coat on the line of brass pegs to my right, fearfully keeping my eyes on the dark corridor leading to the rest of the house. As Topaz, I had been married twice - silly six-month publicity stunts doomed to failure. It had been champagne and hotels degenerating into public arguments. This was going to be nothing like that. Melissa had been married for fifteen years. Her marriage was something old and lived in, comfortable and secure. It was loving and tender with her husband Robert. I could see why she had had such difficulty leaving it behind. The house was more cluttered and dirty than I had expected but that could be put down to the length of time it had been since "I" was away. It needed a woman's touch. That was all. I started down the hallway, nervous as a schoolgirl about meeting Robert. It felt as though all my relationships had been gaudy and shallow. It was going to be so good to feel the care and quiet attention of a loving husband, even if it was time-worn love. I didn't expect fireworks or passion but that was all right. I'd had enough of that for a while. I just longed for the quiet smiling glances and the guiding hands, the peaceful companionable evenings and the long warm nights lying together. Robert was a doctor and the gentleness that that profession took with it was going to be such a welcome change. Robert wasn't in the kitchen. The yellow light etched the dirty pots in the sink and on the draining board. Newspaper rather than a cloth covered the table. It was stained and damp with spilled food from the discarded plates. It had to have been some kind of party because of the volume of empty beer cans toppling out of the waste bin. I smiled fondly and shook my head, frowning. How little men could accomplish without a woman at home. It didn't matter. I'd take it in hand. It would be fun to make our little home pretty again. From the lounge I could hear a television. I made my way through, the butterflies getting rowdier in my stomach. None of the lights in the house were on aside from in the kitchen and lounge. I tripped over several dark piles or objects in the corridor. As I reached the door I heard a man's voice cry out in elation. "Yes!" I pushed it open and making sure I emulated Melissa's voice perfectly said. "Robert?" He was standing up in front of a low threadbare armchair, his fist in the air, the television deep into the throes of a soccer match. Dressed in dirty jeans and a soiled white vest, he wasn't what I expected. He was tall and very thickly built with very hairy arms and badly receding hair. For a moment I was horrified before I realised the mistake I'd almost made. It would have been a huge blunder. This wasn't Robert at all. It must have been a friend of his. I pushed the image of how difficult it would have been if I'd embraced and kissed him by mistake, then felt a shimmer of gratitude that I wasn't going to have to touch him. He turned to face me and the elation disappeared. He had a thick moustache and it twisted up as he frowned. "Fuck time you call this?" he said. I gaped at him. "Excuse me?" "You were supposed to be back an hour or more ago. Where do you think you've been?" I stepped back, momentarily afraid but steeling myself. This was "my" house. I wasn't going to be spoken to like this by a visitor. "My boss asked me to stay on to do some extra cleaning," I replied indignantly. "That stuck up bitch Topaz?" "She's not stuck up!" His expression turned blank. "I thought you hated her." "I don't know what you're talking about. Where's Robert?" He narrowed his eyes. "What you say?" My stomach turned over. I could read it in his expression. I'd made that blunder after all. I stammered. "I mean, where's the Robert who said he'd miss me when I left to go abroad?" He eyed me up and down suspiciously. "Fuck you going on about?" I stepped back into the doorway, arms down by my sides. This wasn't what I expected. Not at all. The crowd on the television roared as another goal was scored and Robert turned back to roar too. He was enormous. The weight and height and the animal scent coming from him were overpowering. Surely this couldn't be the kind gentle doctor Melissa had described to me. The surge of support died down on the screen. Distracted and irritable, Robert glanced back at me. "Look at this place," he said, "it's got like a pigsty. Why don't you go fix me some dinner then get started on cleaning it up." He was trying to be nice but it came over as a veiled threat. "Alright," I said, just anxious to get out of there. I didn't like this. I didn't like him. I closed the door after me and stood against the wall in the darkened hall, my hand on my chest. My system was saturated with adrenaline. I was shaking. "Uurgh." I didn't like him one bit. I thanked God he wasn't my real husband. I wouldn't like to have been tied to him forever. How did the real Melissa stomach him? That brought my mind back to what she'd said. Had I been so desperate to swap lives that I'd filled in my own details of what I wanted her home life to be like, rather than listening to what she actually said? I could have sworn she described him very differently than he was. It made me want to cut this short now. I felt very vulnerable here in unfamiliar surroundings, with only HIM. No. No, I wasn't going to do that. I reminded myself to enjoy this. I'd paid a lot of money for it. It was a holiday from myself that I wanted. The more different it was from my life as Topaz the better. I wasn't going to get scared and ruin all my hard work now. And after all, I had wanted to be a cleaner. That's what I was going to be doing. I smiled. Then I lumbered through to the kitchen and started to familiarise myself with it. I didn't want to keep Robert waiting. I was starting to get a nasty suspicion about the beer cans in the bin and I didn't think he was a man that liked to be kept waiting when he was hungry. CLEANER - PART FOUR "Your dinner's ready Robert," I said, standing next to his chair in the lounge, hands together down in front of me. The football game was still on the TV and he ignored me, continuing to watch. "Robert?" "What?" His voice was abrupt and I flinched at the sound of it. "Your dinner's ready." "Well bring it though then you dozy tart." He pressed the volume plus button on the remote. The clatter of the crowd rose, filling the room. My cheeks coloured and my eyes became pinpoints. "I've gone to a lot of trouble clearing up in the kitchen and fixing you a meal. I've been away for months. The least you can do is turn this crap off and talk to me for twenty minutes." I realised as soon as I said it that I'd made a big mistake. Robert lifted his hand to the remote and hit the mute button. The room became instantly silent. I started stammering something, trying to retract my hostility. He touched the standby button and the screen winked into blackness, taking all the light in the room with it. "I'm sorry Robert. You're right to want to watch television. You're probably very tired from work. Being a doctor can be very stressful." The armchair creaked as he stood up but I couldn't see anything. "You spend all day helping people, it can be hard to come home and continue to be nice," I said. He moved close enough that his belly brushed the backs of my hands. His deep sweaty reek settled over me along with the heat of his body. "Are you trying to be funny?" he said, voice low and husky. "Sorry?" "You trying to take the mickey of my job?" "No," I said, "why would I? There's nothing wrong with being a doctor." His face came close to mine. When he spoke I felt tiny flecks of hot spittle on my cheek and nose. "I'm not a doctor. I'm a labourer. What the hell are you talking about?" He pushed me in my shoulder. I grunted, staggering back, coming up against the wall, the light switch digging into my shoulders. "I'm sorry Robert. I was-I was just fooling around. I'm sorry." "You've ruined the game now," he said, voice still low. "No I haven't. You can still enjoy it." "No," he said with a surge of anger. "There's no point now. You've ruined it. Did you finish tidying the kitchen?" "Almost." "Almost. Right. Well almost isn't done is it?" The spite built in his voice with every word, chipping each word out like shards of glass. "You swarm off on holiday for months, leaving me to take care of myself then you come back and suddenly want me to drop everything. Is that right?" "No. No. I'm sorry." He put his hands on either side of my face and leaned close. "You will be sorry if you cross me again you fat bitch. Now get out there and fetch my food or I might have to get nasty." * * * I was too terrified to cry when I took Robert his meal but as soon as I got back to the kitchen, I sat on one of the wooden kitchen chairs and sobbed. I'd never been spoken to or treated that way, made to feel so pathetic and insignificant. I hated it. I couldn't stand it, regardless of any submissive fantasies I had. This had to end tomorrow. There was no way I was coming back here again. I looked at the wall clock in the gloom of the yellow kitchen light. Eleven o'clock. It was too late tonight but first thing in the morning I was going back there. "Topaz" was going to be sad to leave my life behind, I was sure, but I didn't give a damn. It was one thing pretending to be her while at home, cleaning round. It was something else to become her away from there, so excluded from my source of power. Robert was a brute. He was just shy of being a psychopath. I didn't want to share a bed with him. I didn't want to see him again. After I swapped back with "Topaz" I was going to do what I could to help her break free of him. She'd put herself out a lot for me and she deserved something in return. I did have some resentment toward her though. I was convinced she had told me Robert was a pleasant and sedate doctor - not a brutish thug labourer. Had she lied about that or was I mistaken? It made me angry right now thinking about it. I was going to give her a piece of my mind when I saw her next. I had thought I had cleaned up most of the kitchen but looking around me now I saw a lot of clutter and dirt that it seemed Robert might just get touchy about. There were trails of grease down the walls, bundles of soiled newspapers and porno mags and plates flaked with dried on food. I didn't want to risk his fury so I got to my feet, cursing my extra bulk, and got to work. One more night like this, I told myself, and then I can get back to my old life of luxury. * * * I'd been planning to get a taxi back to my mansion but I didn't have any cash on me. Robert took what I had to go down to the betting shop. He was still in bed when I left. It turned out to be worse than I'd thought. He was an unemployed labourer, squandering what little money Melissa brought home from cleaning. I hated to think of him getting his hands on the bonus I had given her to make the trade but from the sound of it he'd spent almost all of it already. I used Melissa's railcard to get back to the village then walked the rest of the way. By the time I reached the gates of the house my feet were aching in my heels. I was wearing the usual blue short sleeved dress, stopping at my knees, my bulging arms and legs poking clear. The front door was locked. It burned me having to use the servant's entrance, but I did. I made my way in through the kitchen. The cook sneered at me as I passed. It had been a big job, keeping the switch between us secret from the servants, but it added an extra element of realism. Back here, away from that ogre, in familiar surroundings, even though I was still trapped playing the part of Melissa, I felt a lot better. I was still angry at Topaz, but the dreamy, playful quality to all this was returning. As I entered the hallway I sighed. I was so determined to throw all this away after Robert's nastiness but I felt a serious pang of regret at that thought now. Pausing in front of the hall mirror I looked at myself again. This strange face looking back at me through pebble glasses. This odd, bulky body. All my life I'd been mesmerised, as all women are, to desire a slim gorgeous body and shun the possibility of being so fat. Why, when I'd had that beauty in my grasp was all I wanted to be like this? Maybe I wasn't the only woman who felt this way. Maybe there was a secret vein in all women to go so completely against social convention and not care what they looked like - not keep struggling against it. Maybe all women wanted to just quit exercising, enjoy their food and wallow in fat. Or maybe I was crazy. Either way a shimmer of anger rose in my mind to think about Topaz's lies. I turned away from my reflection and stormed across the huge hallway toward the poolroom, determined to bring her to task. * * * THE ORIGINAL MELISSA I emerged from the water and saw her lumber in. I dipped back under the surface and smiled to myself as I swam to the side. It was so tempting to finish this now - to tell her she wasn't going to have her old life back - but I wanted to draw it out as long as I could, enjoying every aspect of it. It made it more delicious that she wanted to be Melissa. I thought it was really bloody hilarious. Reaching the edge of the pool, I climbed the steps without looking at her. I didn't make any kind of eye contact as she approached but I smiled to myself. "I want to talk to you," she said, stopping just behind me. I didn't respond but I reached down for my towel and started to sponge the water off my shoulders and chest. "Are you listening to me? I want to talk to you." Her voice was mewling and plaintive. Remarkably, even now, when she obviously wanted a confrontation about our true identities, she continued to use my voice. It was so ingrained in her. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her start to reach forward to grab my arm and turn me round. I cut it off by snapping, "Don't touch me!" "You lied to me," she said, "You said your husband was a doctor. You said he was gentle and kind. That man I met last night was the nastiest piece of work I had ever seen!" I turned to look at her, lowering my eyes to her bulging feet then slowly lifting them up to her face. I felt nothing but contempt for her huge thighs, round layered stomach and huge boobs. Her round face, skin straining to hold in the fat, evoked only a vague sense of pity and loathing. "I don't have a husband," I said quietly. "Don't give me that! I'm not in the mood for that game now! I want to know why you lied to me Melissa!" "Be careful," I said, "I told you never to mention our trade. I gave you very warning. Now that's your second life gone." * * * THE ORIGINAL TOPAZ I gaped at her - at this jumped up cleaner who thought she was better than me, just because we had swapped roles and I was struck speechless. How could she stand there, arms crossed, looking at me in such a condescending way? Just because she was gorgeous now - because she was wearing my slender limbs and perfect face - because she looked like the queen of this house - she thought that put her on a different level from me. She was going to find out how wrong she was! "Don't you dare talk to me like that ignorant little bitch," I said. "The only reason you're swimming in my pool and wearing my clothes is because I say so! I can take it all away like that!" I clicked my fingers in her face. "I've enjoyed playing this game - don't get me wrong - it's great! But there is a limit and you would do well to remember that. You can tell me I'm running out of lives till you're blue in the face but one word from me and you're out on the street, not even cleaning for a living anymore and you'll be running back to your husband quick enough. How long do you think it'll be before you're putting on the pounds again without me to encourage you? Before six months is up you'll be as fat as-" "You?" She glared at me, her arms still folded, a hint of smile at the side of her mouth. I saw red but I kept my calm. "Pretending to be me is good. Ordering me about and telling me off - I can put up with those. They do add to it. I like it in a kinky sort of way. But you lied. To me. I want to know why." She didn't reply immediately. Then she stepped into my personal space and said, "Be very careful Melissa. I don't have unlimited patience. I am warning you now that if you go on then you will lose your last life. If you lose that then I will never swap back with you. Do you understand that?" "Don't be ridiculous." "I said do you understand that?" She jabbed me in the chest with her finger. I stepped back. She jabbed me again. "No one would believe that you are Topaz. We switched far too thoroughly for that. We look too identical. We know too much of the other's life." She jabbed me again. "Why don't you get with the program, huh? This swap is on my terms now. I'm Topaz. I'm going to swap back with you if you don't blow it but if you keep insisting on trying to take control then I will keep this body and life, I swear!" I stumbled back to the edge of the pool and teetered there. I couldn't believe she was saying these things to me but there was nothing I could say to contradict it. She was right. She did have all the power. On her say-so she could cut me off from my past life. I ran the scenarios through my mind. Would anyone believe me that I was who I said I was? Short of fingerprints or dental records they might not! "You know I'm right, don't you Melissa?" she said, cocky and nasty. "Yes." "Yes what?" "Yes Topaz." "You don't want to lose your last life, do you?" "No Topaz. She raised her finger in front of my face. "Then shut up and go and do your cleaning then tonight go home and keep your husband happy, any way you know how. Do you understand that?" I nodded. "But when are we going to switch back? I'm starting to not like this." "When I say so, you fat bitch," she said, jabbing her finger into my face, "and not before." I staggered back one more step, swung my arms in arcs to try to regain my balance, then plunged backwards into the pool. CLEANER - PART FIVE I wanted to run to my old bedroom and slam the door but I was so terrified that she would catch me that I couldn't. I just ran to the cleaning cupboard, a dark room beneath the stairs with a chair and shelves on the walls. There was nowhere else that I felt safe. I fell into the chair, pressed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, and burst into tears. I was soaking wet. My dress was saturated. It clung to my legs. Rivulets ran down my flesh. I'd barely kept hold of my glasses during the plunge into the swimming pool and they had misted up. I had never ever felt this bad- this lost. All throughout my youth I had had my parents looking after me - providing all the comfort and reassurance I needed. As I got older I had friends and staff to do the same. Now though, I had nobody. There was no one I could turn to for a kind smile or help. Even of those who knew me as Melissa - my "husband," the other staff - there wasn't a single one I could trust to be nice to me now that I needed it. Melissa had never been popular with the other workers in the household and now I had inherited her life, I had inherited that stigma. I cried and cried and cried. "Topaz" was right. I was trapped in her body and life until she decided to let us switch back - stuck in this job and corpulence - stuck with that bastard as a husband. No one would believe me or help me. If I started rocking the boat then she might live up to her threat of not letting us switch back. Up until now I had been convinced that her talk of lives lost was part of the act - an aid to help me stay in character. I had wanted this switch. I had pushed for it to go beyond a simple arrangement. Even if I had wanted to look and act like Melissa, there was no reason for her to switch with me. I needn't have given her this position of power and knowledge over me. I needn't have pushed to swap home lives as well. Even though she was crossing a line of rudeness, I had still believed that she was trying to help me live out my fantasies in the way she thought I wanted. There had been an element of cattiness and revenge - I had considered that - but I hadn't considered that she was seriously planning to do me down. Now, as the tears started to dry on my round cheeks, I started to wonder if she might even try to steal my life completely. It jarred with what I knew of her personality. In the months we had spent working on the switch we had become very close. Until yesterday there had been no sign of anything resembling that kind of aggression. Still, it was a possibility now. I put it out of my head. I had to think about what I knew for certain. I had to proceed for now as though what she was saying was on the level. I pushed the bolt into place on the door to make sure I wasn't disturbed then I pulled my wet dress off over my head. It was a strain as much as it ever was now my body was so bulbous but the dampness made the fabric cling to every bulge. There was a little radiator in there and I hung it over that. It was going to smell of chlorine for the rest of the day but I had no other clothes with me to change into and there was no one around fat enough to lend me some. I used tee towels to dry my hair off then sat back down in my bra, panties and heels. I couldn't bring myself to strip completely naked and I knew my body heat would dry them in time. I tried to cross my legs but my thighs were so thick now it was difficult. I remembered a time when my slinky legs would knit together perfectly. I used to tuck one foot back round the ankle of the other leg. Now that was impossible. I thought about what she said. One life left. I had to believe that she still meant to give me my persona back without any trouble if I abided by her rules as long as I remained in her role. But that meant I had to put up with the downsides of her lifestyle without even mentioning my problems to her. I had to fully immerse myself in her existence, becoming her in every way until she was ready to change back. I was terrified that she would never want to give up my life the more time she had to get used to it. At the same time though, if I pushed it, trying to negotiate with her for an early swap back, then I would violate her rules. If she was seriously planning to swap back unless I mentioned our role reversal again then I could in no way afford to blow it. It might take weeks or months - it might take years - but I had to go on being Melissa until she came to me to say different. I lifted my hands off my chubby thighs and turned the palms to face me, considering what that meant. I reached for my glasses, pulling them off and instantly the room became blurred. I put them back on and looked down at my bare cleavage, bra straps cutting into the soft flesh, at my stomach folds and bare legs, at the chubby feet and high heels. I tried to conceive of what that might mean - to be stuck like this. Up to now it had all been a game. I think at a semi-conscious level I had always believed that a physical change back could be effected instantaneously - however ridiculous I knew that was. Fat. Bloated. Poor. Uneducated. It was a sentence most any woman in the world would be terrified of. All my life I had been a survivor though - a winner. This was a difficult situation but I refused to let it overcome me. If this was the only way to proceed then I was going to look for the bright side and rise above it, at least mentally. I had wanted this - to become Melissa - at first in body and role about my house, then, as the alterations became addictive, in everything. Although the power base had shifted, I had got what I wanted. If anything, losing control of the situation threw me even more firmly into that position and made my dream come true. If I was to live in the role of my cleaner then I couldn't very well still boss her about. I had to become subordinate. Yes, that was the way to look at it. I wanted to be fat for now. I wanted to have a menial job and to worry about everyday things. My boredom of the wealth and simplicity was what sent me in this direction in the first place. I had got my wish. Did it really matter if it had an indefinite period? "Topaz" would grow weary of the life as I did. She'd want to change back soon enough. It was the perfect holiday. I made myself smile. Yes. That was it. The perfect holiday. Only the thought of my new husband laid a damp cloth over the optimism. He was a beast who made me feel defenceless and weak - who made me cook and clean on demand. But even that fit the initial goal of this endeavour, come to think of it. All I had to do was realise what the rules were and abide by them. The real Melissa before me had obviously done that and all I had to do was find a similar vein. I washed my face and hands in the little basin. That made me feel better. I sat down, put my elbows on my bare knees, made my hands into fists and propped my fat face on them. I was going to beat this now. I may be trapped in an obese body, I may have no means of getting back to my old wealth and lifestyle beyond Topaz's whim, but I was going to relax and enjoy it. I was going to enjoy being Melissa! If that meant scrubbing and cleaning without complaint then going home to wait on my brutish husband then so be it! CLEANER - PART SIX Topaz was on a sun lounger out on the patio by the time I got changed and found her. Of course there had been spare clothes for me to change into. Absurd really that it had slipped my mind, although after my tumble into the pool, I wasn't thinking straight. We had bought a lot of new clothes when we went abroad and although most of them had been shipped over to "my" house, there were still some here. The outfit I had on was a pale blue sleeveless dress. My chubby upper arms bulged down the sides. The fold of fat that hung from my face rested on the semicircle of chest revealed at the top. My legs were bare and I was still wearing the same low heels. A little frilly apron dropped in a half moon from my waist. My hair was dry and brushed straight. My glasses were polished clean. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. Topaz wore elliptical sunglasses with horn-rimmed points in the upper corners. Her slender body reclined, perfectly fitting the contour of her expensive chair. One smooth leg was stretched out, the other was kinked into a triangle. Her eyes were closed but there was a gentle smile on her face. Henry, the pool man and gardener, was smoothing suntan oil into her skin. He worked carefully, smoothing it into her thighs, adding shine to her pale skin. His shirt was off and for a moment, as I stared at his tanned muscular back, I remembered how those strong hands felt on my legs... But for now, that wasn't to be. I reminded myself of that then looked away, clearing my throat. Topaz opened one eye, her face squinting into ugly lines with irritation. "Ready to lose your last life?" A ripple of fear passed under the surface of my skin. "No." "Well then this had better be good. I'm starting to get bored dealing with you all the time. I've wasted enough time already and I may have to think about letting you go." I got another judder of fear, this time at the base of my spine. She held all the power. I was in a real danger zone. But I made myself think about the decision I'd made. "I've come to apologise," I said. "Have you now?" Topaz closed her eyes again and smiled to herself smugly. "Henry, leave us for a moment." He got up and walked back into the house. "Well go on then and then get out of my face." "I have been rude and I'm sorry. I have acted crazy, expecting you to entertain flights of fancy. It is ridiculous of me to think that I could ever have been you." "Why ridiculous?" I lowered my head. "Because you are so very slim and beautiful. And I am fat. And plain. And I don't talk well enough." "Go on." "I know I'm not you and I'm sorry that I went on about it. I'm not going to again." "Thank God for that. Are you finished?" "Yes." "Because I'm still waiting for an apology about your sloppy work." I fiddled with my thumbs down by my waist. "My work has been sloppy. I'm sorry. I should work a lot harder than I have been. And I will work harder. A lot harder." Topaz was grinning. "And I'll expect an extra hour out of you tonight to make up for the time you wasted splashing about in the pool and drying yourself off." "Yes miss." I started to back away. "And Melissa?" "Yes miss?" "I don't want you to approach me again. I don't think it's appropriate. I'll thank you to remember that I am on the ladder of society, I am near the top. You on the other hand, are close to the bottom. If you wish to communicate with me then go through the proper channels. Is that understood?" She meant through her butler, Roger. "Yes miss." "Well waddle off and get back to work then you fat trout." * * * I got down on my knees in front of the servant's toilet, squirted in some cleaner and started scrubbing, rubber gloves on to protect my hands. The reek of it was nauseating. Never before in my life had I been face to face with something this loathsome and degrading. But I did it anyway, gritting my teeth. That conversation with Topaz had set a new theme to our relationship. In the space of a few minutes I had given up any last grasping hold I had tried to keep on the reins. She was the boss. I was the servant. She had complete power over me and I had given it her willingly. Before, when I was being forced into this situation, I felt a strangling constriction. Now, because I had handed everything with as glad a heart as I could, I felt better. At least in giving up control I had exerted what little control I could. Now, officially, I was not going to pressurise her to swap back. I was going to immerse myself in her life completely. Scrubbing under the rim of the toilet, I started to train my thoughts. I put out of my mind all thought of agreements with Topaz or relationships to her. She was the boss. That was all. There was no special relationship beyond that. I was cleaning a toilet, just like all the others I'd cleaned down the years. I'd been a cleaner all my life and this was just more of the same. Yes. That was it. Wiping the crusted faeces stuck above the water line of the bowl was something I had done every day of my working life and would do every day for the rest of it. * * * I spent the rest of the day working harder than I had ever done. It became easier and easier to put the switch out of my mind as the hours passed by, until by the end of my shift I think I had gone for two hours without thinking about it at all. I was exhausted and I needed a shower desperately, but I was satisfied that I had done the best job I could. I wanted to go to her and describe all the filthy jobs I had done but she was right. It wasn't right that she should have to deal directly with the likes of me. What I got up to cleaning out drains and vacuuming was of no interest to a refined lady like that. When I did reflect on a comparison with who I was now and what I'd done to who I used to be, it was from the point of view that I had done a really good job assuming that role. I was determined to become Melissa even to the extent that I didn't think a single Topaz thought, so I put each one out of my mind as soon as it emerged. I packed away my cleaning things, washed my face and hands in my basin under the stairs and put on my coat. Then I walked down to the station to catch the train home to spend the evening with my husband, determined that this time, I would do everything right and make the best of it. CLEANER - PART SEVEN "My husband" Robert was watching the end music of something or other when I found him. Sitting in front of the TV seemed like the only place I ever saw him. Without a job to go to he was directionless. He was wearing the same grubby vest I'd seen him in the day before, the same jeans. He'd slept in them, snoring so loudly that it had kept me awake. The vest stretched over his huge belly, riding up enough to reveal a fold of flesh hanging over his time-worn belt. I looked at his mammoth hairy arms and shoulders - at the greasy hair receding half way back from his face and felt my nose and stomach turn. I couldn't believe I was stuck with this ape. How could my life have reached a point like this? But I was determined to make the best of it. The real Melissa had loved this man. Now I was her, I had to find it in my heart to do the same. "Hi Robert! I'm back!" I kissed him on the cheek through his bristles. This close a surge of body odour closed around my face but I suspended the breath in my throat and smiled. I kept my face close to his. He turned his head to look at me. I looked at his dopey eyes and heavy brow, his crooked nose and the moustache curling over his lip and I tried very hard to see what it was that drew the original Melissa to him in the first place. Then I kissed him on the lips. "What was that for?" "I just wanted you to know that I still love you," I said. "Are you serious?" "Yes Robert. I am." He looked uncomfortable. "Why?" I put on my best smile. "I've been thinking on the way home that we should both put a bit of effort in to raise the romance - see if we can liven things up a bit. I was thinking we could go out to dinner and maybe go to the pictures afterwards. What do you think?" "Do you think I'm made of money?" "Sorry?" "Why the hell would I want to throw away good money at a restaurant when I've got you to cook for me here?" My mind went blank. "Er..." "And what do you think we've got a TV for? I'm not working Melissa. You've got some pissy crap job that barely brings home anything. We can't waste money going to the cinema." "I just thought it would be nice to spend some quality time together." He got to his feet. "Quality time? Is that what you want?" "Yes. Some romantic time. I just want to make you happy." He unzipped his fly. "Romance eh? You wanna make me happy, then I'll be glad to let you. Come 'ere." I looked down at his crotch. He inserted his hand through the diamond-shaped gap and twisted it, grasping what was in there. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, sending a shiver through the upper layer of skin. "Er, Robert, I think you're misunderstanding what I wanted to say." "My life is stressful enough without you coming in here and demanding I spend even more money I haven't got. Now you're going to have to pay. Get down on your knees." "No, look Robert. I was just trying to cheer you up." "This will cheer me up. On your knees." "No. I won't do it." He whipped his hand out of his trousers and charged up to me, grabbing the hair at the base of my neck. "You'll do whatever I say you fat bitch! I've had enough of putting up with your shit. Now get down on your fucking knees!" I tried to stay upright but he forced me down. "Now you're going to shut your face and do what I want you to do. Understand?" "Yes." "Good girl." He stepped away and pushed through the hole his zip had made. I looked at the back of his hairy hand, realising the full impact what it was concealing was going to have. I had never done this. Ever. And now, to have to do it for this filthy ogre was more than my mind could bear. My neck locked up. I couldn't blink at all. No thought broke through beyond empty senseless terror. Robert pulled out his hand and his cock flopped into view, bulging outwards and stiffening, the circle of foreskin at it's end retracting from my view as the lip of the purple end pushed outwards. It stunk of decaying urine. There were flecks of white on the wrinkled end that shifted as the wrinkles became smooth and shiny. He stepped closer. "Come on Melissa. Daddy wants you to suck him off." I gaped. I couldn't move away or closer. I couldn't think. My sanity was splintering, faultiness spreading across its surface. Robert's hands closed around the back of my head. "Come on you whore. Suck on me." He shuffled closer again. He cock was huge, nestled into the nest of dirty hair. It was only a couple of inches from my lips. For a moment, revulsion was replaced by a quiver of lust. It surprised me. I couldn't imagine finding any part of this experience arousing. Then it vanished. But I looked up at him, at this huge man towering over me, this common ugly brute and I got another shiver of it. He was so masculine - so archetypal - like a primal thing. His domination of me, his bare pheromone reek, his manly stature, his careless animal lust - all these things cut into me in a new way I couldn't ever have conceived was possible. I looked at his cock again and the lust in my own crotch melted into being. I couldn't believe it but I wanted it. I wanted to do this repellent thing for him. I wanted him to make me do it. It was a devastating surrender of everything I had ever felt about myself but Lord help me, I wanted it now more than anything. I neede