Criminal Record
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Criminal Record Part Two free porn video
Criminal Record
Part Two
I woke up and instantly knew that something was still very wrong. I
wasn't back in my Chalfont manor house, living with my parents. I was
in a squalid upstairs flat above a shop in Barton.
The ceiling had damp patches on it and there were pipes going up the
wall and disappearing through a hole. A shaft of dirty yellow
streetlight cut across the mottled paintwork overhead. It was the only
light in the little cluttered room.
I sat up and looked down at myself and my stomach turned. I almost
threw up.
I was still in that body. I was still her.
I was still Sadie Wilson.
It was her long bare legs out in front of me, extending from an
obscenely short miniskirt, crooked up carelessly, no hint of the demure
primness I had developed my whole life. Her high heels, kept on while I
was sleeping, I was so tired. It was her slightly fleshy midriff and
pierced belly button, her rose tattoo. Her big tits barely restrained
by a boob tube.
I swung my legs off the ruffled double bed and onto the floor then held
my face in my hands.
Still stuck in this body. Still stuck in this life.
"Shit me. What the fuck am I goin' to do?"
Still talking like the lower class slag I'd become.
I didn't even know how I'd changed into her. How could I ever hope to
get back to my body?
All I'd done was pop into the police station to report the theft of my
handbag. I'd sat opposite a slutty girl and both of us had fallen
asleep. Next thing I knew I was in her body, being thrown into a cell
for the crime of assault. I'd had to admit to everything she was
accused of, just to get out of there and then I'd had to accept a ride
from her boyfriend back to the flat they shared. I had nowhere else to
go.
When I'd tried to call my home for help from my parents, Sadie Wilson
in my body, with my voice and mannerisms had answered! She'd taken over
my life! And she put the phone down on me.
I squeezed my eyes tight shut. "I need some fuckin' booze."
Startled, I lifted my head off my hands.
What did I say?
My voice was loud and brazen now I was in her body. Her vulgar turn of
phrase had become mine too. Did this mean I had inherited her tastes
and needs too?
I had never been a drinker. A glass of wine at the occasional Sunday
lunch was my limit. Now I suddenly felt desperate. I was wired and edgy
- I couldn't relax - and I knew a shot or two of Bacardi would help to
calm me down. That and a fag or two.
"Fuck me. I'm a smoker and an alkie!"
I stood up.
There was a mirror without a frame propped up on an old office desk
against the wall. The top half of the mirror was broken off. It was
covered in a dirty sheen. I reached to pull the cord of the light
switch but it didn't come on. The wire hanging from the ceiling had no
bulb and no lampshade.
"For fuck's sake."
I got closer to the mirror. There was enough light coming from the hall
to show my reflection and yet another shot of despair went through my
body.
I was Sadie Wilson now. There was no doubt about it. Her sneering face
was fully animated by my soul. It was mine. My long dark hair was swept
back off my forehead. My lips were harlot red. I was a slut. An
alcoholic slut.
I turned my body so I could see the tattoo on my arm in the mirror.
Mik 4ever.
He was somewhere in the flat. I could hear the TV. And although he was
little more than a stranger to me, he saw me as his girlfriend. He saw
me as Sadie. And he was the only person I could rely on right now to
look after me.
If I went home to my parents' mansion they would have me arrested
before they listened to wild tales of body stealing. With this face and
body - with the brash swearing that spewed out of my mouth - they
wouldn't entertain me for a minute.
Without knowing how the transformation had even occurred, I had to
admit to myself that I was trapped. My only options were to live on the
streets or take over Sadie's life here with her boyfriend.
More than that: I had to do everything I could to act like her. If I
didn't stick to as close to her personality as I could, I might turn
Mik away from me. I might end up homeless. He had to believe I really
was her.
In order to survive I had to become Sadie Wilson in every way.
I had to completely become the uncouth slag who got herself arrested
for fighting the night before.
***
I walked down the hall to the door of the living room. The television
noises were coming from inside. Mik had to be in there watching the
box.
"I'm Sadie Wilson," I said to myself, feeling nervous. "I'm Sadie
Wilson."
What if he realised I wasn't really her inside? I didn't have any of
her memories. I might slip up.
"You talkin' to yerself now ya dozy tart?"
I gasped, startled. Mik's voice hadn't come from the lounge. He was to
my right, in the kitchen, sitting at the table. He was grinning,
exposing his gold tooth. He didn't have a top on. His pale muscular
torso was riddled with tattoos. My eyes ran from his six pack to his
pecks to his skinhead and I felt a gentle stirring in my crotch that
appalled me. This man was everything I had loathed all my life. How
could I possibly find him attractive in the least?
But I did.
"So what if I am?" I said. "You got any ciggies?"
"'Ere." He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket
and tossed them onto the table in front of him.
Feeling self-conscious I walked into the room, slipped one out of the
pack and put it to my lips. "Gotta light?"
"Ere. Light it from mine."
I hadn't noticed the cigarette in his hand. I was expecting him to hand
it to me. Instead he raised it and put it in his mouth. Then he looked
at me expectantly.
What did he want me to do?
I stared at him stupidly.
"Come on then ya daft bint. It's gonna burn out before you do it."
He wanted me to light my cigarette from his while he had it in his
mouth. That meant I had to get close to him. I had to bend down and get
right up close to his face.
I shuddered. With his shaved head and tattoos he looked like a football
hooligan or a member of the national front. But on the other hand if I
didn't do what he asked he might realise something was different about
me. He wasn't about to conclude that meant I was another girl trapped
in his girlfriend's body but he might get tired of me and throw me out.
I had to do it. And I was desperate for a fag.
I moved closer to him. His grin broadened. "That's it baby. Come to
daddy."
He leant back on the little wooden chair, pushing his pelvis forward.
Through the ribbed folds at the front of his jeans I saw his cock
shift, growing. A smile flickered on my lips despite myself.
I put one bare leg to the outside of his knee and the other into the V
his thighs made, close to his crotch, then I bent down, extending the
cigarette in my lips forward.
As I got closer to his bare chest I got a whiff of his scent. Cheap
deodorant masking a musky animal body odour. I could see the stubble on
his cheeks and on his bald head, could see the individual bristly hairs
of his goatee beard.
My cigarette was only a couple of inches away from his now. I looked at
the glowing end. Then I felt his hand on my left boob, squeezing. I
looked down, surprised and was surprised again to see this cleavage
that I wasn't used to. His other hand touched the inside of my leg and
ran up under my skirt.
I moaned in pleasure as the lubrication around my vagina flowed.
"You're gorgeous, you know that?" said Mik, his cigarette jumping up
and down with each word.
His hand was rough against my thigh. He hooked the bottom of my panties
down with one stubby finger and probed inside.
A third of me wanted to pull away, horrified by the vulgar man doing
this to me. I had never done more than kiss a boy. I had always wanted
my first sexual encounter to be special, with a special man, not some
working class skinhead thug.
But that part of me was overwhelmed by the other two thirds - terrified
not to go along with him unless he rejected me and powerfully turned on
by all of this.
I couldn't understand it. My entire social programming was set up to
turn me away from men like this but I wanted him more than I'd ever
wanted anything before. I wanted him to be rough. I wanted him to grope
me. I longed for him to talk dirty to me. And I wanted more. I wanted
him to fuck me.
It was like by becoming Sadie, all the inhibitions that had kept me in
check were gone. It didn't matter if I was a slut or if I smoked and
drank. I had no reputation to foul that wasn't already sullied. All the
forbidden acts that before were completely out of my reach were there
for me to take and enjoy now and a passion was coming up from inside me
- a passion that had been caged for too long.
I pressed the end of my cigarette to his and inhaled, loving the taste
of the smoke as it filled my mouth and shot into my lungs.
Mik tore my panties down the middle with one hand. I cried out in pain
and pleasure. Then he pushed up my skirt and grabbed my bum with both
hands.
"Oh yeah Mik! I like that! Now fuck me! I want you inside of me!"
He spat out his cigarette and pulled open his jeans. His hard cock
pushed out.
He grabbed both my tits and squeezed them, pushing the boob tube up so
that both were revealed. He gripped my nipples and pinched them,
twisting slightly. I gasped. I'd never imagined feeling like this. It
was so bad but so good at the same time!
Then he reached up under my arms to my shoulders and guided me down.
I climbed onto his lap, bare legs spread and curving in to wrap round
his waist. I still had the high heels on.
Mik fumbled with his cock, trying to find the right slot.
"Come on," I snarled, "I want you in me now!"
He found my waiting cunt and forced his way inside. It was wet but he
still had to push to get in. I cried out again, amazed by the
sensation. Sadie's body wasn't a virgin but my soul was. I'd never felt
this before and it was the most profound feeling I'd ever had.
"Oh Mik! Mik, this is fuckin' great! Oh yeah! Do it to me!"
He took my nipple into his mouth and chewed it. I gasped as he started
to thrust into me.
And he didn't stop thrusting. He carried on until we were both
screaming from the pleasure of it.
***
I lay out in front of the TV, almost horizontal on the ragged sofa with
its broken back, my bare legs out in front of me. Mik lay to my right.
I had a bottle of Tequila hanging loosely in my hand. Mik and I had
been alternating taking swigs from the neck of it and we were now both
very drunk.
"That stupid fuckin' cunt last night," said Mik, referring to the man
he had fought with - the fight that had got both him and Sadie
arrested. "I fuckin' hate that bastard!"
I'd never even met him in person but I couldn't help agreeing. If not
for him I wouldn't have had to spend hours in a cell.
"I'd like to pound that cunt's face in."
"Yeah."
Mik sat forward. "You know what we should do?"
"Wot?" I struggled to keep up through my alcoholic haze.
"He owns a shop up on the high street - that pokey little off-licence."
"So wot?"
"We should go up there and fuckin'-We should kick his fuckin' head in!"
Part of me was horrified but it was a little voice and the bulk of my
mind was lit up by the idea. What if we did go up there and Mik beat
him up? So what? It might be a real laugh and it would serve the
bastard right for messing with my boyfriend.
I was so pissed I could hardly stand but Mik pulled me up. I tottered
in my high heels and grabbed his arm for stability then burst out
laughing.
I could do this. I could go out there and do this.
I was Sadie Wilson now. I could do whatever I damn well pleased. It
wasn't my fault I was trapped in this life. It wasn't my fault if I did
what she would do in my place.
Mik grabbed his leather jacket and put it on over his bare chest but
didn't do it up. He pulled me toward the door but I stopped short.
"Wait a sec."
"Come on ya tart."
"No wait! I need to put on some fresh panties. You fuckin' ripped the
others."
Mik leered and winked. "You were fuckin' hot tonight baby."
"Wait while I grab some more."
"Why don't you go without? What does it fuckin' matter?"
I paused. Did it matter?
I shrugged. "Fuck it. Let's go."
I followed Mik out and down the stairs to the street.
He laughed. "With you not wearing anything under ya skirt, if yer lucky
I'll take you up the back alley after we've had that fucker."
I laughed too. "I hope you mean what I think you mean."
We walked up the street giggling, the cold air caressing my crotch.
What was becoming of me?
Every word, every action, was tainted. How could I be slipping into
this role so completely when I should have been off trying to find a
cure for my condition?
I had decided to pretend to really be Sadie as a cover to keep a roof
over my head but the personality was coming too naturally. This wasn't
me. It wasn't who I was. But I was becoming afraid that that was wrong.
It was who I was? now.
***
Mik and I strode up to the high street and made our way toward the
man's shop.
We both had huge grins on our faces, walking arm in arm, Mik's bare
chest and my cleavage and legs flashing in the streetlight. What
respectable people there were in Barton at night glared at us with
undisguised disgust - we looked like we were: a skinhead thug and a
tart, pissed out their minds and looking for trouble.
"That's it," said Mik, stopping me short and pointing. "There's the
fucker." Through the window of the off-licence I could see a tall but
stocky Indian man serving alcohol to what looked like a bag lady.
There was a closed down shop next to us with scaffolding outside. Mik
picked up a loose scaffold pole about the length of a baseball bat and
tested it for weight in his hands. "This'll do."
He marched up to the front of the shop with me tottering along behind
in my heels then threw his right arm back and tossed the scaffold pole
through the front window with a bellowing roar.
The entire window shattered as the pole disappeared inside. I clapped
my hands and burst out laughing. Mik looked back at me with triumph.
The door of the off-licence opened and the bag lady scurried out. Then
the Indian man came after, looking scared but belligerent.
"Come 'ere you fuckin' immigrant cunt," said Mik, moving toward him.
I ran to keep up.
The Indian stepped forward, raising his fists but Mik punched him in
the face and I cheered.
The Indian fell backward against the doorframe and Mik went forward
again, pounding him in the stomach. He hit him over and over again and
I kept shouting, "Kill him! Kill that fucker!"
Then the Indian brought his fist round and drove it into Mik's face and
Mik's legs gave way. He dropped to the ground and the Indian started
kicking him. Again and again the Indian smashed his foot into Mik's
back and shoulders.
I started to scream.
He was going to really hurt him!
I had to do something!
I heard sirens coming - the police - but they weren't going to come
quick enough to save Mik. I had to act now but there was no way I could
stop him physically by myself! People had gathered to watch but no-one
was helping.
Mik was in the foetal position, grunting with each blow.
I ran as fast as I could in my high heels past the Indian into the open
doorway of the shop and grabbed a bottle off the nearest shelf, then I
ran outside again.
The Indian's back was to me. That immigrant fucking bastard was going
to kill my boyfriend unless I did something.
I lifted the bottle over my head and smashed it down on the back of his
head. The glass exploded, covering both of us with liquor.
And it was at exactly that moment that the police car screeched up in
front of us.
***
The Indian's body lost all its rigidity instantly then he slumped
forward.
I screamed, terrified.
What had I done?
I wasn't like this.
I didn't get in fights in the middle of the night in Barton.
I was a grade A student. I was a pretty young lady preparing myself for
university.
But that wasn't what the police saw.
I stared at them, not moving or speaking as they came toward me.
The one on the right was the same policeman who'd interrogated me
earlier.
He was shaking his head. "Sadie Sadie Sadie. What have you go up to
now?"
The other policeman was talking to the witnesses, asking them what had
happened. They were saying that Mik had thrown the bar through the
window - that he had struck first.
We were screwed - both of us. We were going to prison for this.
"We didn't do nothin.'" I said, knowing how ridiculous that sounded.
"He fuckin' started it."
"I don't think so Sadie," said the policeman, "You've really done it
this time."
"But it was self defence. He was going to kill Mik."
"Assault with a deadly weapon. Grievous bodily harm."
"We didn't do nothin' you fucker!"
"You'll get the book thrown at you for this Sadie. Both of you."
"But it was Mik! I didn't do nothin!"
The policeman shook his head. "Even if you get away with that, your
boyfriend's going to prison." He took his handcuffs off his belt and
gestured for me to turn round.
He grabbed my wrists, pulling them painfully into position then snapped
the hard metal down.
How could it have come to this?
Even trapped in that body I should have spent my time trying to find a
way back to my old life - should even have done something - anything
other than this.
I'd made all the same mistakes that the real Sadie had made. I'd become
every bit as sordid and nasty as she was - every bit as slutty.
And now I was paying the price.
I was being arrested for fighting, just like she had been.
The criminal record that hung so tightly round her neck had become my
own.
I was the same trashy slag that she had been in name, face, voice and
deed.
And still there seemed to be no escaping from it.
I was stuck as Sadie Wilson forever.
***
I sat in the courtroom with tears in my eyes.
Kaidence
- 07.07.2022
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