Rings Of Mistrust free porn video

Rings of Mistrust By Carleton Vincent This story takes place in a universe created by Allen W in Rings of Trust. I once again offer my gratitude to this author for writing a great tale. It stoked up the fires of my imagination and inspired me to write the original version of this story. This is a revision of that original version. I have changed the ending significantly. I have also re-edited the entire story and added a good amount of text. It is a darker tale now, and it delves a little deeper into the characters. I am much happier with it now and hope that you enjoy it. Reader feedback is always appreciated. If you read the original version, please make sure to let me know what you think of the changes. WARNING: this version does include mature subject matter. My story stands on its own, but I recommend checking out Allen W's story, because it is an enjoyable read. I felt a wave of intoxicating excitement when she caught my eye and flashed me a demure smile. She was tall and her long legs moved with lithe elegance. She possessed large round breasts, and the zebra- stripe-print blouse she wore was unbuttoned enough to reveal a generous amount of cleavage. Her black skirt fit snugly over elegantly curving hips. In summary, she was absolutely gorgeous! I smiled back at her nervously. "Could she really be interested in me?" I wondered. "No," I thought. "That would be too good to be true." But then, the girl walked across the food court to the table where I was sitting, and in a soft voice she asked if she could join me. "Sure," I blurted, suddenly feeling awkward and anxious. I wanted to have a girlfriend very badly, but I had not had much luck getting any of the girls at my high school to show interest in me. I figured that that was because I had a reputation of being nerdy. You get that kind of reputation when you're a star member of the Chess and Calculus Clubs. This girl didn't know my reputation, though, because she didn't attend my school. "Just relax and act cool," I admonished myself. "Great," she said, flashing me her demure smile again. Then she set down her tray and took a seat across from me. She told me her name was Dana. I told her my name -- Christian. As we ate, she made conversation asking me questions and seeming as if she wanted to get to know me. I tried to think of things to say to hold up my end of the conversation, but it was hard. I kept worrying that I was saying things that were nerdy or sounded stupid. Then, when we were finished eating, she asked me if I wanted to walk around the mall with her. "Wow," I thought. "I must be doing okay if she wants me to spend more time with her. I think this could be it." It seemed too good to be true, and, in fact, it was. She was just leading me along, and I was clueless. I had no idea that she was drawing me into an artfully laid trap. "Yah," I said with my nasally voice. I hated the sound of it. "Great," the girl replied, getting up out of her chair. After I discarded our trays, she hooked her arm around mine and began walking with me. She felt soft and warm, and the sweet smell of perfume hung about her. I could feel my heart thumping against my ribcage. We made our way to the escalator and rode up to the second floor. I stood behind her admiring the way her skirt stretched over her perfectly shaped behind. She brought me into a nearby clothing store, and she picked out a black lace dress that looked pretty revealing. After paying for it at the register, she gave me the bag to carry. Then she brought me into a shoe store where she picked up a pair of black, leather, high-heeled boots and a pair of stockings. She gave me that bag to carry, too. At a third store, she picked out a handbag. The fourth store she brought me to was a jewelry store. She purchased a bracelet, necklace, and earrings there. My collection of bags was getting bigger and bigger. As I spent more time with her, I detected a hint of something strange about her. It was almost like she seemed uncomfortable in her skin--like it was a stiff leather jacket or brand new pair of shoes that needed to me worn in. I eventually decided, however, that this uneasiness I was detecting was just nerves. Maybe she truly thought I was cool and was anxious because she really wanted things to go well between us. After we stepped out of the jewelry store, Dana pointed across the way to a lingerie shop. The name of the shop, Valerie's Intimates, was written in pink script above the entrance. "We're going in there next," she told me. She brought me into the store and past racks of brightly colored feminine nightgowns to a display of satin bikini panties in the back of the store. "You're blushing," she teased me. "You're embarrassed to be in here, aren't you?" "A little," I admitted. "Well, it will just be a minute." She picked out a pair of panties with a snow leopard print. Then she moved over to another corner of the store where bras hung on silvery racks. Dana picked out one that matched the panties and then went to the sale's counter. The sales woman sprayed the shimmering under things with a sweet smelling perfume and put them in a small pink and white striped paper bag with some pink tissue paper. Dana took the little bag by its string handles and dropped it into one of the larger bags I was carrying. "I've got to visit the restroom, now," she said as we stepped back out of the lingerie shop. We walked a couple hundred feet or so and then turned down the narrow hallway with plain cinderblock walls that led to the bathrooms. Dana stopped at the door to the men's room and pulled a strange-looking silver ring out of a pocket in her purse. Then she turned to face me and reached for my right hand. The feeling of that feather soft skin against mine was heavenly. I looked into her beautiful sparkling blue eyes, feeling a strong longing for her. She slipped the ring on my finger. "Does this mean we're boyfriend and girlfriend now?" I asked hopefully. "No," she replied, her demure smile twisted into an evil, leering grin. "It means you are screwed." "Huh?" Then a short and stocky figure emerged from the men's room, looking like a troll coming out from its cave. There was something familiar about him. "Hi Christian," he said. "Brogan!" I blurted, the spark of recognition igniting within my brain. It was Billy Brogan. "What is he doing here?" I wondered nervously. During my freshman year of high school, Brogan and his buddy Dave Hebner jumped me. I was on my way home from school, walking along the sidewalk bowed under a heavy load of books. Hebner came up behind me and caught me off guard. Before I knew what was happening, he had me trapped in a full-nelson hold. He was a big blocky guy with powerful limbs, and there was no way to break free. Brogan, who was just a little scrawny guy at the time, puffed himself up trying to make himself look like he was big and muscular as he stood over me. "I'm going to beat you to a pulp, you little dork," he said with a cocky grin. Then he began to hammer his fists into my face. When I was nearly senseless, Hebner threw me to the ground. I lay there dazed and barely aware of what was going on as Brogan kicked me a few times in the chest and abdomen. I was bruised up pretty badly, after this beating; and a couple of my ribs were cracked. I had to spend a night in the hospital for observation. The juvenile court judge looked stonily at Hebner and Brogan as I testified. Brogan sat in his chair looking like he thought the whole hearing was a joke. This apparent lack of remorse only added to the judge's ire. After the trial, Brogan and Hebner ended up in a Juvenile Detention Facility that was designated for serious offenders. I was glad that they had gotten what they deserved. "You just stepped right into my trap, dork," Brogan told me. He didn't look quite so scrawny anymore. His torso was now a bit more bulky, and he possessed a set of bulging muscles. Apparently, he had been working out. "Trap?" I echoed nervously. For a long time, I had lived with the fear that Hebner and Brogan would one day try to take revenge against me. The duo made no move to get me after their release from the detention center, however; and my anxiety eventually faded. As the months passed, I figured I was safe. Apparently, I had been wrong. "It worked just like you said it would," the girl told Brogan. "All I had to do was wiggle this pretty fanny at him, and he did anything I asked him to. It was just too easy." "You did a pretty good job being a girl," Brogan said. "Well--you made me practice everything a hundred times," Dana replied. "What are you two talking about?" I demanded. "This girl here is really Hebner," Brogan told me. "I just tricked you," she said. "I've put a magic ring on your finger, and now you're totally fucked." "That's right," Brogan agreed. He held up his left hand, showing me that there was a gold ring on his finger. "As long as I'm wearing this ring, and you're wearing that one, I can change your body any way I want." "They're completely out of their gourds," I thought. I figured the two of them were stoned. This made me even more apprehensive. Who knew what they might do to me in this state. "I'll prove it?" Brogan said, sensing my disbelief; "I'll change you the way I changed Hebner here." As he made this second declaration, he reached over and slapped the rounded fanny of the pretty girl. The girl let out a short sharp cry of pain in response. Then, massaging her stinging behind, she shot Brogan a dirty look. "I'm tired of you doing that," she complained. I tried to pull the ring off so I could give it back to the girl and get out of there. It wouldn't budge though. Brogan pulled out a Valerie's Intimates catalogue and began flipping through the pages. "It helps if I have a picture to look at," he said. "Hebner here is the babe on page fifteen. There's an even hotter looking piece of snatch in here that I picked out for you to be." I twisted the ring, trying to screw it off my finger, but no matter what I did, it would not move past my knuckle. "Ah," said Billy. "Here she is--right on page twenty-four." He showed me the picture of a woman wearing only a pair of panties. Her slender arms were crossed over her bare chest. Her face was gorgeous with a perfectly proportioned turned up nose, full lips, and hazel eyes. Thick golden-brown hair cascaded down upon her slender well-tanned shoulders. The panties she was wearing looked just like the ones Dana had just picked out at the lingerie shop. "This is just getting weirder and weirder," I thought. I tried to push past Brogan to get out of there, but his thick stubby arm shot forward and pushed me against the hard cinder block wall pinning me to it. "You ain't going nowhere yet," he told me. Then he looked at the picture, knitting his brow as he focused on it. A moment later, I felt a strange shiver run all through my body. I looked down at myself, and saw my body morphing its shape. It was actually changing. It was utterly incredible! A few moments later, the metamorphosis was complete. I could feel the long soft hair on the back of my neck and about my shoulders. My arms were more soft and slender and there was now a pair of boobs stretching the material of my t-shirt. My jeans were now too big in the waist. My feet had shrunk and now occupied only half of my shoes. I stood there for several moments, speechless, as I tried to take in these changes. I couldn't wrap my mind around what had just happened to me. "You now have a fully functioning female body," Brogan said, leering at me. "And it's a damn hot body." He grabbed my arm, turned me forty- five degrees, and gave me a quick stinging slap on the rear just like he had done to Dana. I jumped, feeling my chest bounce. My slid down a little. "Let me tell you what's going to happen to you now," Brogan continued. "You're going to spend the rest of the day as a girl. I'll have a little fun with you, and when I'm finished, I'll change you back just the way you were. After that, I'll consider things even between us. Now--go into the women's room and change into the things in those bags." My head was spinning at a hundred miles an hour. I was completely overwhelmed and off balance. "Change me back right now," I cried. When I spoke, I did not hear the nasally voice I was used to hearing. Instead, I heard a soft soprano voice. A surreal experience only added to my sense of vertigo. "Let me make one thing clear, bitch," Brogan said with a sneer. "I am God in your world right now, and you have to do what I say. If you don't, you will be punished." Suddenly, I felt a tingling within my chest. "What is he doing to me now?" I wondered frantically. Then I couldn't breathe. My chest moved up and down but I could not bring in air. I couldn't even talk. I opened my mouth breathlessly, making a dry raspy sound. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced. "I just made your lungs disappear," Brogan explained with a dark glint in his eye. "If you want them back, just give me a nod to let me know you will do as you're told from now on." I fell to my knees and black spots appeared before my eyes, I was passing out. Life was slipping away from me. "You're turning blue," Brogan observed with dark amusement. "You ain't got a lot of time left." I didn't want to die here like this--in this female body that would be logged as a mysterious Jane Doe in a coroner's report--a mysterious Jane Doe with no lungs in her chest. My parents would never even know what happened to me. I tried to nod, but I wasn't sure if I had been able to manage it. Then, all at once, I was able to breath. I could feel the cool air-conditioned air of the mall fill my chest that once again contained a pair of lungs. Oxygen had never tasted so good to me before. Brogan pulled me back up to my feet and then he gave me a push towards the women's room. "Now get in there and change your clothes," he told me. "Dana, get your pretty fanny in there with her and help her out. I'll guard the door and make sure no one walks in on you two." Still trembling from my horrific experience, I pushed my way through the door. Dana came through after me. Once inside, I set down the bags and tried to pull off the ring again. Incredibly, it was still stuck on my finger even though my hand was now much smaller than it had been. It seemed to have shrunk along with my finger. "It's magically locked to you," Dana said. "You can't get it off unless you have the gold ring. Now you better get changed quickly. Billy's not the most patient guy around." Dana pulled out the panties first. "I bet you never once suspected that you would be the one to end up wearing these, did you?" she said with a grin. I took the panties and looked at them curiously. With no fly, how was I supposed to know which side was the front and which was the back? "That's the front," the girl told me, pointing impatiently. "You can tell because there's more material in the back." I stepped into the panties, feeling the alien sensation of cool satiny material on my ankles. Then I pulled them up into place. It was strange and unsettling, seeing the shimmering material cling smoothly to me with no bulging between the legs. "Are you really Hebner?" I asked, looking up at the girl. My new voice echoed off the bathroom walls, sounding like the soft song of a small flute. "Billy changed me into a girl, so I could lure you into this trap," she said coolly, as she handed me the bra. She instructed me as to how to get myself strapped into it. "Lean forward so your boobs go into the cups," she said. "Then reach around back and do the clasp." She pulled the dress out of its bag next. I stepped into it, and she zipped it up in back for me. The skirt was very short and the neckline came down low enough to reveal ample cleavage. Dana then showed me how to roll the thigh high nylons onto my legs. "How do you know how to do all this stuff?" I asked, as I pulled a stocking up to my thigh. "You-Tube videos," she replied. "Billy made me watch a bunch of them. He also made me practice stuff, so I'd be convincing." After I finished zipping on the boots, Dana helped me with the clasps on the bracelet and necklace. Then she put earrings in my ears. Apparently, my ears were now pierced. She pulled a compact out of her purse and brushed just a trace of blush on my cheeks as a finishing touch. "We better get back out there now," she told me, dropping my wallet into the purse and giving it to me to carry. I walked unsteadily atop the high heels, teetering a couple times. The task of staying on my feet was made even more difficult by the fact that the skirt restricted the range of motion of my legs, but I managed to cross the floor and get out of the bathroom without going down. "Oh, yah," Brogan said, wearing a broad, toothy smile as he looked me up and down. "You look real hot in those clothes!" I squirmed, feeling intensely uncomfortable. "Relax, baby," he said, "I'm just going to have some fun with you for a few hours, I promise. Then, as long as you're a good girl and do what you're told, I'll turn you back into your normal self. If you fuck around and play games, though, I'll punish you by making you stay like this. Understand me?" His dark eyes penetrated me, expecting me to answer. "Y--yes," I said. "Good," he said. "Now let me kiss those gorgeously full pouty lips of yours." He stepped forward and snaked his arm up behind me. Then he wrapped his thick fingers around the back of my neck, pulled my face down to his, and gave me a kiss full on the lips. As he kissed me, he stuck his other hand up my dress and stroked my satin covered behind with his fingertips. I froze, feeling totally horrified by the whole experience. His touch made my skin crawl. His kiss felt like thin worms writhing on my lips. Then it got worse. His hand came out from under my skirt and found its way up to my breast. I could feel his fingers through the thin layers of material. I desperately wanted to get apart from him. Then Brogan pulled his lips away from mine. "How about if I take you back into the restroom and make you glad to be a girl?" he said with a leer. "I guarantee that, after experiencing that; you will beg me to remain like this so you can be my girlfriend." I felt a cold wave of panic wash down over me. The thought of being forced to have sex with him sent slimy wave of revulsion throughout my body. Fortunately, Dana chose that moment to interrupt Billy. "Aren't you going to change me back now?" she bleated, sounding impatient. "You told me you'd change me back when Christian was a girl." Brogan removed his hands from me, and he turned his head to give Hebner an irritated look. "I can't change you back now, stupid. You didn't bring a change of clothes." "Then let's go back to your house quick," Hebner said. "I've been like this since yesterday afternoon, and I want to be a boy again." "No," Brogan said. "Why not?" demanded Hebner. "It's just fifteen minutes from here." "Because I like you better like this," Brogan answered, walking over to his friend. Then he looked over the shapely body that Hebner now possessed. "You're a lot nicer to look at, that's for sure." "This isn't funny, Brogan." Hebner was getting agitated. Brogan grabbed his buddy, pulling her close to him. Hebner struggled against him, but her lithe arms could not fend Brogan off as he moved in and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was a very long kiss; and, when Brogan finally released her, Dana was gasping for air. There was a look humiliation on her face. Brogan chortled at her reaction. Then he turned away from her and began walking back down the hall towards the mall. "Both of you come with me," the troll said. Dana and I struggled to keep up with his fast pace, our heels clopping on the tile as we hurried down the hallway after him. It was harder for me, or course, because I had had less practice. Brogan paused, waiting for us a couple hundred feet up. When we caught up to him, he continued at a slower pace. After a little while, I started to get better at walking on the heels. I imitated Dana's walk, keeping my chest out, taking shorter steps, and allowing my hips to swing side to side. When I did that, I was able to walk at a reasonable pace and didn't look like I was about to fall over at every third step. I still felt extremely awkward. Moving around in a female body was just weird. My center of gravity was different, for one thing. And having a pair of tits bouncing around was also a big source of consternation. It was just so strange, feeling them moving around in the satin cups of the bra; and they were so in the way. Of course, the thing that bothered me most was what was not bouncing in my underpants. I could feel the satin material clinging gently to me with no weight in it at all; and, when my thighs touched together, there was nothing there to get squished between them. Brogan brought us back into the Valerie's Intimates shop. "You're going to need something to wear to bed tonight," he told me as we entered the store and walked over to the sleepwear section. "To b--bed," I stammered. "But you said I'd only have to stay like this for a few hours." "I changed my mind," he answered. "I'll turn you back tomorrow morning, after you spend the night with me in my bed." I shuddered, once again feeling a wave of revulsion at the thought of sleeping with him. Especially since I figured, he had more than just sleeping in mind. Then I saw the ring on his finger. That ring was a gun pointed at my head. It was even worse than a gun, actually; because Brogan could kill me right here in a crowded store, and no one would know he had murdered me. As long as it was on his finger, he was in control. "How am I going to get out of this?" I wondered. Brogan picked out ruffled nightie. It came with matching bikini panties. "You'll look pretty sexy in this," he predicted, as he handed it to me to hold. Then he picked out a pink chemise and handed it to Dana. "This one is for you, baby." "F--for me?" Dana replied, stunned that she too was being given feminine sleepwear. "Yah," Brogan said casually. "You're gonna need something to sleep in tonight, too." "I am not spending the night like this," Dana objected. "You're going you change me back to normal as soon as we get back to your house." "No I ain't," Brogan countered. "But we had a deal," Hebner objected. "You said that you would change me back after I lured Christian into the trap." "Well I'm changing our deal," Brogan said with a snort. "And I don't see how you can do anything but accept it. Now take your pretty nighty or I'll change our deal again and you'll be sleeping in it for more than just tonight." Dana took the feather light garment with a look of great distress. "If Brogan treats his best friend this badly," I thought, "what is he going to do to me?" "Now as long as we're here, you might as well get some more bras and panties," Brogan decided. He then made Dana and I get the sales lady to size us. We didn't really need to do this. He just wanted to see us endure the humiliating process. The saleswoman wrapped a tape measure around my chest, and took all the other measurements necessary to determine my bra and panty sizes. Then she repeated the process with Dana. After that, Brogan brought us over to where the satin panties were displayed. He made us each pick out a few pairs. Then he made us get bras that matched. He told me to pay for everything with my cash card. I had an account in my own name, but my mom could view all my charges. I'd have a lot of trouble explaining this one to her. We left the lingerie shop and walked down to a fashionable girls' clothing store like the one Dana and I had been in earlier. Brogan went over to a clothing rack and picked out a black leather skirt. Then he picked out a revealing blouse. "Take these into the changing closet," he instructed, thrusting the hangers at me. "Then put them on and come back out so I can see how it looks on you." I took the hanger and entered one of the cramped fitting rooms. There was a full-length mirror on the back wall. It harshly confronted me with the reflection of the female body I now inhabited. It was strange to see this feminine creature mimic my movements, as I struggled to reach around to my back and unzip the dress. "That is really me," I thought--still trying to wrap my mind around what had happened. When I emerged from the changing room, Brogan made me do a slow turn in front of him. "Hot," he said, practically salivating on himself. Then he turned to Hebner and said, "Now, it's your turn." "What?" the girl asked. "You're going to try on something for me next," Brogan said. He pulled a pair of jeans off one of the racks and thrust them at Dana forcefully. "How can you make me do this?" Hebner whined. "I'm your best friend." "Right now you ain't my best friend," Brogan said. "You're a hot- looking piece of ass that has to do whatever I say. So get into that changing room." Brogan ogled Hebner when she emerged from the closet in the jeans, just the way he had ogled me. She endured the experience with a look of utter dismay on her face. Brogan then made us each of us try on several more outfits after that. The sales girls glanced at us uncomfortably, as we paraded ourselves in front of him, and he drooled over us. "What a pair of sluts," I heard one of them say. Dana and I were each laden with several bags of items when we finally left the mall. Each of us had several days' worth of clothes and shoes for every occasion. We also had makeup. Brogan had made us both get consultations at the cosmetics counter. The sales girl picked out shades for us based on our skin tone and then applied it for us, so we could see how it looked. The whole experience had been a humiliating nightmare. What was worse, he made me pay for all of this stuff with my cash card. My account balance was now less than half what it had been. All the money I'd saved after mowing lawns and working at Frosty Delights over the summer was wiped out. We carried the bags out to Brogan's car and loaded them into his trunk. Then he told me to sit in the front passenger seat. During the drive back to his house, he reached over and put his hand on my knee. I could not stand the feel of his cold clammy skin against mine. "I gave you normal female drives, Christiana," he said with that disgusting leer on his face. "Get your damn grimy hand off me," I thought. "So just relax and let those drives take over," he continued. His hand crept up my leg and slipped down to my inner thigh. He came to the hem of my skirt and kept going pushing up the soft material. I froze, horrified. "Let yourself relax, and you will enjoy the ride," he said. "He's a sicko," I though. "A fucking evil sicko. I've got to find a way out of this. But how?" Brogan's hand came up near my crotch. I could feel his fingers gliding along the elastic of the panties' left leg hole. "It doesn't seem like you're enjoying this," Brogan said, as he glanced over at me. "I'm not," I replied, gritting my teeth. "I can change that," he said. Then I felt a tingling spread throughout my crotch and down my inner thighs. When Brogan touched my inner thigh again, I felt an intense wave of pleasure. It took hold of me. I gasped involuntarily. It seemed as though the area had become extremely sensitive. "See--see how good I can make you feel." "D--don't," I pleaded breathlessly, my chest heaving. I could feel myself loosen and grow moist between my legs. "Don't what?" he replied. "Don't stop? Okay--I won't." I felt a tingling spread throughout my chest. Then Brogan caressed my left boob. Once again, I was gripped with a spasm of pleasure. Then we came to a red light. He kept his right hand on my chest, and brought his left hand around and shoved it under my dress. He ran his finger along my crotch, and my world exploded. Gripping at the car seat, I cried out. He kept stroking me, causing me to writhe and wail. "You seem to be enjoying this quite a bit," he said. I wanted to make him stop, but I couldn't. I was like a junky that couldn't resist the temptation of taking another hit. I was building up to an orgasm. And it wasn't going to be just any orgasm. It was going to be the grandmother of all orgasms. Before I reached this point, the light turned green. Brogan removed his hands from me. I sat gasping for air and trying to compose myself. "That's just a little taste of what you're going to get later," he told me. "I'm going to have you wailing so loud tonight that you'll be hoarse for a week." We pulled into Brogan's a few minutes later. The house looked almost as if it were an abandoned property. Brown paint was weatherworn and chipped. The front yard needed mowing badly, and there were weeds sprouting up everywhere. The hedges had grown wild and unruly. A spider web of cracks spread out over the dull grey driveway. In many places, clumps of grass had forced their way through. I climbed out of the car and struggled to gain footing on my heels. It wasn't easy on the cracked and uneven concrete. Bulky shopping bags flopping about me as I followed Brogan and Dana up the walkway to the front door. I was still endowed with hypersensitivity, and I felt a wave of pleasure as my breasts rubbed against my soft bra cups. I was also treated to a wave of pleasure, each time my thighs happened to brush together. The image of Brogan flashed into my mind. I saw him reaching under by dress. I wanted to feel that level of pleasure again. I found myself longing to have him touch me. It plagued me, burning in my mind like a feverish dream. "No!" I thought, trying to counteract this horrifying urge. "I don't want him to touch me." The scene that I beheld inside the house was worse than the one outside. Just as we stepped in through the front door, I saw a man in a dingy undershirt passed out on a threadbare couch. A collection of empty beer cans was crowded onto the top of a crude-looking coffee table before him. A woman sat on an overstuffed chair nearby. She suffered extreme obesity, and I guessed that it was hard for her to move around. Her attention was fixated on the television. Upon seeing Brogan, the fluffy white dog on the woman's lap jumped to the carpet and tore off. Apparently, the mere sight of Brogan was enough to strike terror into the poor beast's heart. The woman looked up from her soap opera, her brown eyes inscrutable as she peered at her son and then at Hebner and I. Then she turned her attention back to the TV, becoming lost in the world on the other side of the screen once again. Brogan brought us up a narrow stairway that moaned and creaked under our weight. The sensitivity in my chest and groin region was growing less intense, I noted as I slowly climbed the treacherous stairs, wobbling on my heels. It seemed like the sensitizing effect was temporary. We reached the top of the stairs and walked down a hallway with badly sagging floor to Brogan's bedroom. Brogan opened the door and brought us inside. Then he opened up his closet and told Dana and I to hang our new clothes there. "I'll clear out a couple drawers for you too, so you each have a place to put your intimates," he said with a leer. He then pulled out two small drawers from the top of his dresser, dumped their contents onto the floor and reinserted them. With this task completed, he grabbed his remote off the top of the dresser, stretched out onto his bed, and turned on the White Sox game. After Dana and I finished putting away the clothes, he pointed to the hamper in his closet. It was stuffed full to overflowing with his dirty laundry. "Make yourselves useful and get to work on that," he commanded, grabbing a half empty bag of chips off his dresser. "When you get the first load started, get your asses back up here." As Brogan began munching on his chips, Dana and I dragged the hamper down the staircase. When we reached the ground floor, Hebner told me to head for the kitchen where the washer and drier were located. We encountered a young woman washing dishes in the sink there. Her hair short with sweeping bangs; her face was broad like Brogan's but rounder. Her features were finer and a little more attractive. "Who is this, David?" she asked impassively. "Did Billy turn another one of his friends into a girl?" "This ain't no friend," answered Hebner in a flat tone. He was visibly disgruntled at still being female. "This is the kid that got Billy and I thrown into Detention." "So this is what you and my brother were up to," she concluded. "You were busy plotting revenge against this guy. So what's the deal? He's gotta be Billy's bitch?" Hebner replied with nod. "By that look on your face, I'd say you're stuck being the bastard's bitch too?" the woman said. Her tone was almost accusatory. Hebner offered no reply to her. Looking beyond glum, Hebner opened up the louver doors in the corner of the kitchen by the table. Behind the doors, stood a white washer and drier. I had never actually done laundry before, but I had seen my mom doing it; so I knew that you had to separate out colors and whites. I pulled the hamper over to the table and sat down in one of the chairs. Then I began to pull out the rumpled dirty clothes and sort them. Hebner pulled up another chair and began to help me, grumbling as she pulled out a pair of Brogan's stained underpants and tossed them onto the pile of whites. Brogan's sister came over to help us when she was done doing dishes. Perhaps she felt pity for us, I could not tell. She introduced herself to me, as Hannah. Dana told her that I was Christiana. We loaded dark colors into the machine first. The young woman poured in the soap for us and showed us how to start the washer. After she punched the right sequence of buttons, I heard the sound of water rushing into the machine. It looked old, but it appeared to still be in fine working order. "Took you long enough," Brogan growled, when we got back. Then he ordered Dana to go back down to the kitchen and get him a cola. "Those chips got me thirsty," he said. "Christiana, you sit here on the bed and give me a shoulder massage to help me relax." I sat on the bed and began to knead his shoulders, hoping I would not have to do this for too long. "Don't sit on the edge of the bed like that," he chided me. "Get up here beside me, so you can put your weight into the massage." I unzipped the boots and left them beside the bed. Then I knelt on the mattress beside him and tried to massage him in the way he had described. Once again, I felt the fevered longing to be touched by him. It had been sparked by our proximity. He had become associated with that intense pleasure, nectar, which my body hungered to taste again. I wondered if I would ever be able to shed this desire. After a few minutes, Dana returned with the cola. Brogan took a long draught from the can and set it down on his nightstand. Then he lay back on his stomach, continuing to watch the game. "Keep rubbing my shoulders, Christiana," he said. "Dana, rub my calves. They're tight, too." Dana sat on the bed near Brogan's legs looking quite vexed. She reached for his calves tentatively, as though they were a pair of smelly fish. Then she began kneading them. "Oh yah," he said. "This feels good." Fortunately, Brogan drifted off to sleep soon after that, and we were able to stop the massage. "Dana," I said in a whisper, when I heard his soft snores. "We can get the ring off his finger now. Then we can change each other back and get the hell away from this jerk." "Are you fucking kidding me?" Hebner whispered back. "He'll wake up. Then who knows what he'll do to us." "He won't wake up," I pressed. "He will," Hebner countered. "He's a very light sleeper. Go on and try getting it if you want, but I'm getting the hell out of here before you do so he doesn't think I had any part of it." With that Hebner got up and left. I looked down at the prone figure on the bed. The band of gold on his finger glinted as the afternoon light that beamed in through the window struck it. I felt a sharp pang at having the key to my escape so close. "This is like a chess game," I thought. "If I make an aggressive move at the wrong time, I will leave myself open to a crippling counter attack. But if I wait, maybe he will make a mistake and leave himself open. Then I can move in and wrest control of the board away from him." "But what if Brogan doesn't make a mistake?" I worried as I plodded down stairs. "What if I can't escape him before he defiles me in his bed tonight? I can't let that bastard do that to me." I found Dana in the kitchen transferring clothes from the washer to the drier. Brogan's sister was gone, having left for the evening shift at work. "You know he's not going change either of us back tomorrow morning, don't you?" I said to Dana. "He wouldn't have made us buy all those clothes if he were really planning to change us back. He's going to make us stay this way for as long as he can, unless we figure out a way to get that ring away from him." "There's no way to get it back from him," Dana said hopelessly, "he's too smart. He'll catch us if we try anything, and then he'll punish us. And the punishment won't be pretty." "He's too smart?" I echoed doubtfully. "If he is so smart, how come he never got anything better than a D+ in school?" "There's more kinds of smarts than just book smarts," someone said from behind me. It was the woman from the front room. She was shambling into the kitchen, leading the small white dog to the door. Every step seemed an effort for the poor woman. Her hips were so wide that she barely fit through the space between the kitchen table and the counter. Dana and I had to move so that she could pass. "There's cleverness and cunning," the woman continued. She spoke with the drawl characteristic of natives of the southern part of our state. "Billy's got tons of cleverness and cunning, that's for sure. He managed to pull a real fast one on his Uncle Kevin and get those rings away from him, and there just ain't too many folks that can pull a fast one on Kevin." The woman opened the door and then looked down at the little dog. "It's okay Kevin. The Jansen's pit bull ain't anywhere around. Go out and do your business quick." "Th--that's his uncle?" I gasped, pointing at the dog. "Yep," the woman said. Brogan woke up from his nap a couple hours later, and bellowed down the stairs to us. "Get up here, now," he ordered. Dana and I climbed the creaking stairs and entered Brogan's room. "I got a call from Munson," he told us. "He's having a party tonight. I told him we'd be there." I remembered Munson from sixth period study hall. He was a tall skinny guy with shaggy dark hair. He had had his share of run-ins with the police, I had heard. Mostly this was for minor offences, though, and he hadn't served any time in detention like Hebner and Brogan. Brogan told us that while we were at the party, Dana and I were going to act like being near him, "put us in heat." To make sure we did this correctly, he made us practice. "Sit like you can't get close enough to me," he said, "and keep big pretty smiles on your faces, too, to show everyone how much you enjoy being with me. And when I tell you to do something--like get me a beer--you jump. Understand me?" "This is fucking humiliating," Dana grumbled. "I don't see a smile on your face," Brogan said sharply. "Put a big sexy smile on that face, or else." "C'mon, Billy, don't make me do this." Dana stood up and moved away from him. Brogan's face suddenly turned purple. He got up angrily and crossed the room. Then he took a deep breath and seemed to get a hold of himself. He pulled the gold ring off his finger and then came back to us. He grabbed my hand at put the gold ring on me. I now had both rings. One was on each hand. Then Brogan removed the silver one. It was no longer stuck onto my finger and slid off easily. I was incredibly relieved to have it off me. Brogan took the gold ring from me next and returned it to his own finger. Then he grabbed Dana's hand and put the silver ring on it. The tension drained out of her body as she melted into a look of intense relief. Her ordeal was over, or so she thought. Brogan's brow knitted for a moment, as he focused his concentration. Dana shivered as she felt the strange tingling. Then she looked down at herself, confusion flashing across her face as she saw that she was still a girl. Brogan ran his hand up her inner thigh, and she gasped--just as I had gasped in the car. "Wh--what did you do to me?" she said. "It didn't seem like you were enjoying this," Brogan replied; "so I thought I'd make it more pleasurable." He then pushed his hand further up her skirt and stroked her again. She fell back onto the bed arching herself in a reaction of intense physical arousal. Brogan grabbed her and turned her onto her stomach. Then he reached up under her skirt and pulled down her panties. They were zebra striped like her blouse. "Nooo!" shrieked Dana as she realized what was about to happen to her. "Don't do this, Billy," she pleaded in ragged gasps. "Please! I'm your friend." Brogan stroked her again and she was once again gripped by a spasm of intense pleasure. Brogan pulled her toward him so that she was bent over the bed. Then he undid his jeans and entered her from behind. I turned away. I couldn't bear to watch. I covered my ears as Dana wailed. She was being forced to experience a horrible pleasure. A pleasure that warped her will like a drug. She couldn't fight, because the ecstasy had taken hold of her being. It was the worst form of violation that I could imagine. When it was all over, she was weeping. "Get up, and put your panties back on," Brogan said coldly. Dana got up from the bed, shaking. Her panties were down around her ankles, so she bent down and pulled them up into place. She was still weeping and she avoided eye-contact with Brogan or me. "Look at you," Billy said with derision. "Crying. You're a bitch for real now, aren't you. You don't just look like one, you are one. I've just made a bitch out of you." Then the troll looked over at me. "You're getting yours tonight after the party, Christiana. We're going to go at it for hours. You'll never be the same, after I'm done with you. You'll be more bitched up than Hebner here. You won't even want to go back to being a boy, because you'll know that you'll never ever truly be a boy again. On the inside, you'll be a bitch." "Now--both of you get your asses down into the kitchen and cook a couple frozen pizzas. We'll need something to eat before the party." "It ain't totally his fault," Dana said softly as she turned on the oven and pulled the pizzas out of the freezer." Her head was still bowed and her shoulders were tense. "You're defending him?" I replied incredulously. Dana tore the plastic wrapping off the pizzas and shoved them into the oven. "Bad things happened to Billy in detention. He got targeted by a gang of kids in there. Billy was still small then, and he couldn't fight them off. They went at him a few times a week. There was nothing I could do to help him, because I was being kept on a different unit. He don't talk about it, but I know that experience changed Billy. Made him a little crazier than he already was." I didn't know how to characterize Dana's attempt to defend Brogan. Was it reflective of empathy or dysfunction. Probably both I guessed. There was only one thing I knew for certain and that was I had to get away from both of them. Munson's house wasn't far away--just a few minutes drive through winding side streets. When we got there, Brogan went over the ground rules for the evening again. "You'll do whatever I say, hang all over me, and smile like you like it," he summarized. "If you fuck up just once, you'll be sorry." The small house was already packed with teenagers that had been lured by talk of the ample supply of beer that Munson managed to procure. Brogan entered the place, swaggering with bravadaccio. He quickly slipped an arm around each of us when we were through the doorway, so that the other guys there would know he had staked a claim on us. A satisfied smile appeared on his broad, ugly face as a dozen pairs of eyes scanned his two companions enviously. "Hey man," said Fred Richardson, an average-sized guy with ginger hair. "Can't you share one of those babes?" "I don't like sharing," Brogan replied with a dark grin. "I guess I'm just greedy." I felt his arm constrict around me pulling me closer to him. He was pulling Dana in to him too. Then his wormy lips touched my cheek. I kept the forced smile on my face as he kissed me, afraid of what he might do to me if I let it slip. He turned his head to kiss Dana next. "Christiana, you go get us some beers," Brogan said. His arm uncoiled itself from around me, and he swatted me gently on the behind to send me off. I gladly left him and wound my way through the crowd towards the kitchen. "Where's Hebner?" I heard Fred ask. "Usually the two of you always show up to these things together." "He's around," Brogan answered. I went into the kitchen and peered into the fridge, looking for the beer. There wasn't any there. Where could it be? I wondered. Then someone asked if they could help me. It was Munson, himself. When I told him that I was looking for the beer, he personally led me out to the back porch. A keg had been set up there. It sat in a large Rubbermaid garbage can with about a ton of ice poured on top of it. A group of guys was standing around it drinking from plastic cups. They parted when they saw me and motioned for me to go through. A big guy with blonde hair offered me a sleeve of plastic cups, and another smaller guy pumped the keg for me. "Wow," I thought, "guys are real helpful when you're in the body of a gorgeous girl." I brought three plastic cups filled with foamy amber liquid back to where Brogan and Dana were. Brogan was talking to Fred and some other guy I didn't know. He grabbed one cup and gave it to Dana. Then he took one for himself and guzzled some of the contents. I took a sip out of mine and wrinkled my nose. I did not like the bitter tasting liquid at all. I discretely drained a little of it into Brogan's cup whenever he wasn't looking. When our cups were empty, I told him I would go get some more. I wanted to see if I could get him to drink so much he passed out. Okay--so it wasn't a great plan. But it was better than nothing. The same group of guys was at the keg. This time the big blond guy had had enough beer-induced courage to talk to me. He asked me whom the other two beers were for. "You here with a couple girlfriends?" he probed hopefully. "No," I said flatly. "I'm here with a guy." "You don't seem too happy about that," his friend observed. "I'm not. He's a big jerk." After a couple more trips to the keg, I realized that my plan to get Brogan to drink himself unconscious was not going to work. He downed beer after beer showing hardly any effects from the increasing levels of alcohol in his system. "It's going to take the whole freaking keg to put him out," I reflected. Getting desperate, I told Brogan that I had to take a pee. Then I went and checked out the bathroom, hoping to find sleeping pills or something like that in the medicine cabinet. I thought maybe I could slip them in Brogan's beer and knock him out that way. But all I found in the medicine cabinet was a toothbrush and a half empty tube of toothpaste. I went to the master bedroom next and looked through the drawers of the two nightstands. I found a pill bottle in one of them, but the print on the label said: Viagra. "Just my luck," I thought. "I find something that would just give that asshole more of a woody than he already has." As I was stepping out of the bedroom, I ran into Munson. "Hey," he said. "What are you doin' in my parents bedroom." His speech was pretty badly slurred. "I was looking for you," I said, flashing him a grin. I figured that, in his current sate, it would not be too hard to fool him. "Really?" he responded. "Yah," I confirmed. "You look like the kind of guy who could hook me up with some pills--some pills that could help me loosen up and relax a little." "Yah," he said. "Yah, I think Jake's got something on him." I smiled gratefully, batting my eyelashes at him for effect and then wondering if I was laying it on just a bit too thick. Then Munson brought me over to a guy with shaggy, long blond hair. He was Jake, I presumed. Like most of the guests, Jake was in a less than clear-headed state. He gladly handed over a pill bottle. The label said Laxium. "My mom takes these for her nerves," he said. "They always put her in a pretty good mood." I spilled out a handful of capsules into my palm and thanked him. Then I smiled at Munson. "I'll look for you right after I take some of these," I told him. "Okay," he said with a big smile. That had been just too easy. They had been all too eager to do anything they thought might get them into my pants. I went back out to the keg with my handful of capsules. The big blond guy didn't see me at first. He was too busy having an emphatic discussion with one of his buddies. "No--no--no--no," he said. "The Sox just don't have the pitching staff they had last year. There's no way their gonna make another run for the pennant." I pulled a plastic cup out of its sleeve and dropped the contents of all of the capsules into it. Then I poured beer into the cup. "This little concoction will put you into a fucking coma, Brogan," I thought with a smile. I was just about to take the drugged beer back to Brogan, when the big blond guy noticed me. "Hey babe," he said, moving to block my exit. I tried to step around him, but he moved again. The amber liquid in my blue plastic cup sloshed, some of it splashing onto the wood deck. "You're one fine lookin' girl," the blond guy slurred at me. I winced at the strong odor of alcohol on his breath. "A girl like you doesn't need to hang around some jerk. Why don't you hang with us instead? We're cool." "Thanks for the offer, but I better get back to him or he'll get angry." I managed to slip past the drunken behemoth as he swayed before me like a tree in strong wind. Then he grabbed my wrist to stop me from getting away. I stumbled on my heels and the beer slipped from my slender hand. I gasped with horror as the foamy liquid spread across the deck, dripping into the cracks between the boards. "Stay here," the blond guy pressed, oblivious that I had spilled the beer. "If that guy tries to give you trouble, I'll take care of him for you." I looked at the puddle of beer, my heart sinking. "Hey," the blond guy said when he followed my gaze down to the deck. "You spilled your beer. Maybe you should stop drinking." At that opportune moment, Brogan strode out onto the porch with Dana behind him in tow. "Where the fuck have you been?" he demanded. Heads snapped in his direction. To everyone there he looked like an overly jealous boyfriend. "You told me you were just going to the bathroom." The blond guy spun to look at the male he considered to be his rival, fire flickering in his pale blue eyes. "Back off, dickhead," he erupted. "She's with me now." Brogan shot back a response to this challenge to his manhood, and the conflagration quickly escalated. Soon the two of them were trading blows. I watched with astonishment at the effects rendered by the rich supply of testosterone and alcohol in both boys' systems. The blonde guy was a lot drunker than Brogan, but he was also a lot bigger. Once he managed to connect a punch, it was over for Brogan. The punch struck his jaw, stunning him. The next punch hammered against his nose and sent him flying to ground. Onlookers moved in at that point to restrain the blond guy. "Take it easy, Sam," someone said. "You're gonna kill him, dude." This was my chance to get the ring. My heart thumping, I tried to weave through the tight knot of people to get to Brogan's prone form, but was repelled when someone unwittingly stepped in my way. I tried to circle around. Then the group pushed the blond guy back, moving him to a plastic lawn chair and providing me a path to my target. I moved in and knelt down beside the stumpy figure. I reached for his hand, but another pair of slender hands got to it first. They belonged to Dana. She slipped the gold ring off Brogan's finger. I looked at her, making contact with her bright blue eyes. "Change me back," I pleaded. "No" she replied. "If I change you back, you'll just run off and leave me like this." "I won't. I promise." "I don't trust you," she said. "You change me back first. Then I'll change you back." "Alright...Alright, but let's hurry before he wakes up." We went back into the house, leaving the unconscious and bleeding Brogan sprawled out on the deck. We then made our way though the crowd of people to Munson's room where Dana retrieved a pair of sweat pants, a tank top, tube socks, and white boys' briefs out of a dresser. She quickly changed into the clothes, throwing the female clothes she had been wearing onto Munson's bed in a rumpled pile. Munson's clothes hung loosely on her slender frame, and she had to hold onto the waistband of the sweatpants to keep them from falling. Dana then gave me the gold ring. "Okay," she said, "Change me back." I conjured up the image of Dave Hebner in my mind's eye, and a moment later, he was standing before me. He looked down at his body, wearing a big grin as he regarded his restored masculinity. The sweatpants, which had probably fit very loosely on Munson's skinny frame were a snug on Hebner. Munson's tank top was stretched tightly across Hebner's broad chest, and his bulging muscles were visible under the fabric. He flexed his bicep, causing a mountain of muscle to rise. "This feels real good," he said. "I was getting real tired of those soft girl arms." He then strode over to me, grabbed my hand, engulfing it in his massive paw, and stripping my finger of the gold ring. I watched the gold ring conform to the size of Hebner's larger finger as he put it on. He then pulled off the silver ring and put it into his pocket. "Wait," I said, "aren't you going to change me back now?" "No," he replied as he crossed the room and pulled a pair of black and green athletic shoes off the floor of Munson's closet. They looked like they were about a half size too small, but he was able to cram his feet into them. He went over to the bed and sat down, causing the seams of the sweat pants to strain as he bent over to tie the shoes. "You said you would change me back," I protested. "I didn't say when I was going to change you back," he returned. "First, you're gonna do me a little service. You see--I got to do something to counteract what's been done to me. I got to do something that makes me feel like a guy. Spending the night screwing you would definitely do the trick." "You're an asshole!" I hissed. I had seemingly managed to hop out of one frying pan only to land in another. It had been a big mistake to think that Hebner would keep up his end of the bargain out of gratitude for having his masculinity restored. "That's right, babe," he said. "I'm an asshole. Now come with me. I go something I need to do, before we settle our business." Hebner's hand clamped down around my arm, and he dragged me to the back porch. Munson was knelt down over Brogan who was starting to stir a little. The big blond guy and his buddies had apparently left. "Hebner," when did you get here?" Munson said when he saw us. "I came with Brogan," he said stonily, pulling the silver ring out from his pocket and kneeling down beside his friend. He took Brogan's hand and slipped the ring onto his finger. "Hey," Munson said, "are those my clothes you're wearing?" Ignoring Munson's inquiry, Hebner focused his concentration. Then Brogan began to morph. His body stretched out a little becoming longer and more delicate looking. Then his shape started to change, becoming feminine. When the transformation was complete, Brogan possessed the form a tall willowy-looking girl. There were still traces of Brogan in her face, but the features were much more delicate and feminine. She looked a lot like her sister now. "What the shit!" Munson said. "That weed I smoked earlier musta been laced with something. I just hallucinated Brogan turning into a girl." Brogan's injuries had healed during the transformation, and her eyelids flipped open. Hebner grabbed her slender arm and pulled her up off the deck. "Let me help you up, Billy," he said, "Or maybe I should call you Billy Jane now." As Brogan was pulled into a standing position, her jeans fell down to her ankles. She looked down at the female body she now inhabited, puzzled. "What the fuck!" she exclaimed. "How did this happen to me?" Brogan was not at all happy when Hebner filled her in as to how she had become female. "You're going to get it for this, Hebner," Brogan spat. "Nobody fucks with me." David grabbed Brogan by the arm. "Let's go get your clothes changed. It's time for you try prancing around in heels and a skirt." Hebner marched Brogan back into the house, keeping a close eye on his buddy, as she walked holding up her jeans. Hebner was ready to use the ring on Brogan again if he tried anything tricky. I followed along behind them as they made their way through the house to Munson's room. It was getting late and most of the party guests had left, so we didn't have to push through a wall of people to get there. After closing and locking Munson's door behind us, Hebner yanked down Brogan's jeans and told her to step out of them. Then Hebner picked the zebra striped panties up off the bed. "Put 'em on," he said. "Fuck you, Hebner." "Seems like you don't like being a girl," David said. "Maybe I should make it more pleasurable for you." Hebner's brow knitted and then Brogan's eyes went dark, as she realized what had been done to her. David ran his finger tips up Brogan's inner thigh causing her to spasm with pleasure. "D--don't you dare, you fucker," Brogan gasped out through gritted teeth. "Put on your panties, or I'll fuck you right here and now," Hebner said. Brogan stepped into the panties, pulling them up into place. As the satin material brushed over her thighs, she gasped again with pleasure. I knew firsthand what that would do to her. Putting on panties would now be associated with a sense of joy for her. I could see the machinery working behind her eyes, as she got dressed in the rest of the clothes. She was trying to figure out a way out of this predicament. But there was nothing she could do while Hebner had on the gold ring. Hebner had her checkmated. "At least I'm getting to see you get some payback," I thought. I would have enjoyed this more if I wasn't in a bigger mess myself. "Alright," said Hebner after Brogan was dressed. "Let's get out of here." "Wait," Brogan said. "I've got to get my wallet, first." "By all means," Hebner said. "You can carry it in your purse." I saw what was coming before Hebner did. Brogan reached into one of the pockets of the baggy jeans she had been wearing and pulled out something that wasn't a wallet. Then she spun around and the sound of a small gun firing rang out in the small room. Hebner stumbled back, stunned as he was hit in the shoulder. Blood began to pour out of the hole made by the bullet. "Didn't know I had this on me, did you, you stupid shit head?" Brogan said. "No one knows about this gun, because I don't trust no one." Hebner's face was turning pale. He tried to use the ring but it seemed that he couldn't focus his attention. I could hear a commotion rise up on the other side of the door in response to the gunshot. Then Brogan shot Hebner again in the leg and he fell down to his knees, gasping in pain. A dark puddle of blood began to form beneath him. Brogan stepped forward, her heels squishing in the soaked carpet. Then she reached for Hebner's hand to pull the gold ring off his finger. But Hebner still had the strength to clench his fingers into a fist so that Brogan couldn't get the ring. "You're goin' into shock, stupid," Brogan told his buddy. "You're gonna die unless you let me have that ring. I can use it to heal your wounds before you bleed to death." Hebner reluctantly relaxed his fingers and let Brogan take the ring. Then he allowed Brogan to slip the silver ring onto him. A moment later Hebner was Dana again. The wounds had disappeared. I wondered if the bullets were still imbedded within in her flesh, or if they had disappeared during the transformation. Brogan pulled Hebner up out of the squishy pool of blood. "Looks like we're gonna have to get you cleaned up a little," Brogan said, looking at the red stains on the knees of the sweatpants and then at the blood that still covered Hebner's arm. That's when I made my move. I sprang at Brogan, grabbing at the gun and trying to wrench it out of her hand. Not used to wearing heels, she stumbled backwards and then slipped on the wet carpet. We both tumbled to the floor, causing the gun to go off. The bullet put a hole in Munson's dresser. The gun went off again as I tried to pull it out of Brogan's hand. This time the bullet put a hole in drywall. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Hebner trying to position herself to make her own grab for the gun; but she was not fast enough. I twisted the heavy metal object free from Brogan's hand and scrambled quickly to my feet. "Checkmate, fuckers," I thought. "Take off the gold ring, Brogan," I said, breathlessly. I kept the gun trained on her unsteadily. I had never fired anything but a pellet gun before. "The only way your gonna get this ring from me is to pry it off my cold dead hand," she replied as she pulled herself up to her feet. I could see the icy determination in her brown eyes. She had a strong need to be in control, and I knew suddenly that she would rather die than give up even an ounce of advantage. I stood there for a long march of moments, considering my next move. Should I shoot her and risk killing her? I thought about what it would be like to send a bullet ripping through her flesh... to see her blood spilling the way Hebner's had spilled... to see the spark of life slowly fade. Then I heard the distant the wail of sirens. The police! Someone had called the police! Brogan chuckled. "If you're gonna pull the trigger, you better do it quick before the cops get here." My eyes darted from Brogan to Hebner. Hebner's eyes were fixed on me. I would have to shoot her too. There would be no time to negotiate the silver ring away from her. I felt numb all over. I was scared--scared to pull the trigger. I just couldn't do it. The police would catch me. I would not have time to get away. "You fucking bastard," I said to Brogan as I lowered the gun. She had managed to turn what I thought was a checkmate into a stalemate. It was maddening. Absolutely maddening. How in the hell am I going to get out of this mess. "We better all get out of here unless we want to spend a lot of time answering questions at the police station," Brogan said walking over to the window and heaving it ope