CROSSDRESSING CHARLIE
Episode 15
CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
Dave's long, golden hair hung gloriously down over his bosom, and down
his back like an unrolled curtain of soft velvet. Covered with an
explosive overdose of fake tan, his skin looked radiantly false yet
hotly sensual. His face was painted like a dolls and his makeup was over
the top and trampy. Like two fluttery butterfly wings, his lashes were
thick, dark, and long. His lips appeared plumper as they were coated
with neon-pink lipstick, the girliest kind. Hanging from the soft,
blonde hair were two large golden hoops, pierced into his earlobes.
His feet were uncomfortably squished into a pair of leather-baby blue
pumps, with a lofty four-inch heel. Not only that, but his legs were
completely waxed, smooth and soft. His girdle-enhanced hips were clad
with a blue and navy plaid skirt, short in length and high in waist,
which made his legs look ever so lengthier. Hugging his rather buxom
breasts, corseted waist, and beefy arms was a blue boat-necked school
sweater, with the large blouse collar folded over the neckline, buttoned
down to reveal his frilly bra-encased cleavage.
Feminized and sluttified, his body sat bound to a wooden chair by the
wrists and ankles. He was unconscious and had not yet come through after
being attacked by his mysterious captor's taser. He was trapped in a
well-decorated room, draped with soft velvety fabrics and deep, sultry
colours. Two lampshades on each bedside locker dimly lit the room and a
large four-poster bed stood pushed up against the wall. The carpeted
floor was scattered with random bearskins and soft fluffy rugs. It
called back to the private rooms of the nineteenth century burlesque
house.
His eyelids twitched as he exhaled a deep, tired breath. His neck
cracked as he lifted his heavy head, joints creaking like rusty hinges
as he attempted to move within his confined state. Taken aback by his
lack of movement, his eyes gaped open as he desperately attempted to
move with more effort. Looking over his shoulder, his luscious blonde
wig covered his vision. Hot flushes of panic arose within him as he
tried to brush the hair away from his eyes. He swung his head over his
other shoulder and could just about see that his hands were bound
together and to the chair, tight and firm. He looked down at his body,
horror-struck at what he saw before him, a slutty schoolgirl uniform,
donned upon his artificially shaped body, similar yet more sexual than
the one he forced Charlie to wear.
Dave tried to move again by leaning forward but, like elastic, he flung
back into the seat. The rope that bound him with the chair was
uncomfortably tight as was the painful corset, which compressed his
muscled abdomen into an hourglass shape. Grasping for air, he gritted
his teeth to cope with the constrictive clinch, grimacing with agony. He
attempted to stretch but moving forced him into a fit of violent
coughing. He barely caught his breath, letting his head fall back as he
stared up at the ceiling. Inflating and deflating like wheezing bagpipe,
his bosomy chest moved in and out to his raspy breath.
As soon as he caught his breath, his licked his quivering lips and
listened. He could feel the presence of another in the room. Lifting his
head, he held his breath, and looked over each shoulder as terror
flickered in his shining eyes. He could feel a cold wave of goosebumps
fall upon him as the hairs stood erect on the back of his neck. "H-Hello
-,"
THWACK!
He jumped, feeling a harsh pain shoot through his legs as he turned to
the figure standing before him. "What the -," he yelled.
Dressed as a sexy schoolteacher from head to toe, a young woman stood
before him with a long wooden cane in her right hand. A black pinup
pencil skirt, streamlined, high-waisted, and cut down to above the knee
clasped her hips firmly with a polka dotted bow and bustle on the back.
Tucked into the figure-hugging skirt was a white puffed sleeve chiffon
blouse with a pussy bow hanging from the slightly revealing neckline
collar. Wavy jet-black hair hung down over her shoulders and back. Her
complexion was milky, flawless, with vibrant red lipstick to match the
dark half-mooned spectacles that lay perched upon the tip of her nose.
Dave rocked about in his chair as he desperately attempted to move his
wrists and ankles but all his efforts led to no avail. His mysterious
captor certainly made sure that he would not be able to escape. In the
midst of his panicked state, he quickly noticed that his knees were
trembling and his lower lip quivering. He breathed in, trying his best
not to show any signs of weakness or inadequacy. "Who are you and where
am I?" he asked, trying his best to appear relaxed.
Wearing a contented smirk, the woman looked upon him deviously as if a
thousand punishment methods were running through her mind. Sighing
happily, she began to circle the chair, batting the cane against her
hand in a military fashion. "I am Ms. Svahnstrom," said the woman,
tongued with a slight European accent. "I'll be your tutor for the day."
Dave's eyes lit up as if a light bulb flicked on inside his muddled
head. He suddenly realised who the woman was, the motorcyclist who
chased his car and ran him off the road. All the muscles in his face
tensed up as a cold sweat started to moisten his joints like oil. He
tried his best to keep his eyes on Prue as she rounded his chair, his
heart pulsating when she entered his blind spot. She eventually stopped,
facing him as she circled her long, pointed nail around the tip her
cane. He looked at her up and down with a frightened yet animalistic
look in his eyes, "Lady, if you intend on r-raping me or something,
you're not exactly making it very miserable for me," he said, staring
into her cleavage like a hungry beast.
"Oh I'm no lady," Prue scoffed, gently clubbing the cane against the
palm of her left hand. She did not take her eye off him as she slowly
circled the chair again, forcing her prisoner to feel the rising tension
before the storm. "Hmm, I'm a little proud of my work for once," she
said, referring to Dave's appearance. "I managed to make you look quite
feminine despite your - masculine - physique."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" said Dave, trying to maintain his
nonchalant bravery.
"Not really," Prue chuckled, rolling her eyes. Remaining silent for a
moment, she stroked the cane softly against his cheek. "I suppose you
think yourself smart?"
Laughing, Dave broke eye contact as he found confidence. "I'm locked in
a strange room, dressed up as a school tart, being threatened by a
lunatic pretending to a school teacher so no, I do not think myself very
smart!"
"Who said I'm threatening you?" chortled Prue. "I'm merely here to teach
you a valuable lesson."
"Enlighten me..."
Prue did not answer and continued to circle the chair like a lioness
readying to attack her prey. She was basking in the pool of intense
pressure, trying her best to raise her threatening presence to alarming
and feverish heights.
"Look, I don't have time to play games," said Dave, starting appear
anxious. "Just tell me where I am?"
"You'll find out where you are soon enough," she said, finally stopping
in front of the chair as she placed her cane neatly inside her arm.
Dave waited for his captor to speak further; however, she just stood in
front of him, staring as she waited for him to say something. Words
caught in his dry throat, he could not break from the piercing gaze she
cast upon him. He refused to express fear, despite it broiling inside
him like an oncoming storm. He could feel himself beginning to sweat as
the intensity of looming torment rested heavily upon his shoulders like
a ton of bricks. He licked his lips and swallowed the little saliva
remaining in his mouth. "S-So how long have you and Charlie been
conspiring behind my back?" he asked hoarsely.
Scoffing, Prue looked away for a moment, smiling as she gently shook her
head. "What if I told you that Charlie was just as oblivious as you were
to my - what shall I call it - rescue mission if you will..."
"I wouldn't believe you," said Dave. "No random person would - would go
to such extreme measures to stalk someone they only met once!"
"Ah so you remember who I am! You deserve a gold star for that!" said
Prue, deriding Dave's intelligence. "Actually, I think I may have some
gold stars in my handbag."
"Of course I remember! You're the weird girl who works at the costume
shop," Dave sneered. "I had my suspicions that somebody was following me
for weeks. I hope you don't think I had no misgivings about a plot to
ruin our getaway but I never thought it would be you!"
"Well, if you were truly suspicious, then you would have done something
about it," taunted Prue.
"Fuck you," Dave spat. "You do realise - ,"
THWACK!
Prue walloped him across the bare laps with an almighty swing of her
cane. Followed by the harsh smack was a loud, frightful scream that
could have rattled the room to its very foundations.
"Gaaaaaargh!" Dave screamed. "What the fu -,"
" - don't you DARE use crude language again, young lady!" Prue yelled,
trying to contain her delight and laughter.
Squirming around in his bound state, Dave attempted to break free of his
restraints but he could do no more than scream and struggle. "You're
fucking insane, you know that?!" he roared. "INSANE!"
Loving Dave's daring stupidity, Prue beamed ear-to-ear as she brought
her cane crashing down upon his laps several times with remarkably brute
force. "Oh god, the irony is palpable!" she bellowed to the ceiling. She
trotted teasingly to the side of the chair, chuckling under her breath.
"You think that I'm insane?". She gently brushed her cane across his
cheek again as she playfully indulged in the terror her prisoner felt.
"Huh, some people think so but I can't help it! I simply adore dressing
up in costumes!" she whispered into his ear.
Growling like an untamed beast, Dave writhed and snarled with
frustration and sheer rage. "You know, stalking me is one thing, but
chasing me off the road and forcing me to take part in some creepy role-
playing game is just screwed up! I won't give in to being like you sissy
freaks!" he scowled, frowning under the constrictive corset once again.
Prue's brow arose, astounded by Dave's bloated narcissism. "Oh come now,
do you honestly believe that is the reason why you're in this
situation?" she said patronisingly.
His theory crushed before him, Dave lowered his head as his knees began
to shake uncontrollably, "Yes!" he snapped, refusing eye contact. "W-Why
else would you have brought me here d-dressed up like a - like a slutty
tart while you play the sexy teacher?"
"Wow, you really think that I'm sexy?" said Prue, her eyes agape with
sarcasm. "I've gone all scarlet! Thanks dude!"
"Then tell me!" Dave yelled, angry tears spewing from his eyes. "Tell me
why I'm here!"
Frustrated with Dave's oblivious nature, Prue sighed, feeling annoyed
and irritated as she strutted over to the other end of the room. She
opened the closet door, took out a fold-up chair, walked back, and
placed it in front of Dave. "These heels are a nightmare," she mumbled,
kicking them off as she sat down. Pulling her chair in closer, Dave
gulped fearfully as his captor sat unnervingly closer to him with her
cane resting firmly on his lap. Smirking, she reached out, touched
Dave's blouse collar, and rubbed it gently between her fingers.
"What are you doing?" Dave asked, looking down at her hand nervously.
Remaining silent, Prue slowly pulled the collar out and peered into his
bra-encased breasts, realistically glued onto his chest. "Oh yes," she
said, leering into his eyes with malicious intent. "Yes, he will be very
pleased with those puppies, very pleased indeed!"
"Wh - who?" asked Dave, startled, and suddenly feeling something gently
chafe the inside of his thigh. He looked down to see the wooden cane
slowly sliding up towards his crotch. "W-What are you doing -,"
"Shh," hushed Prue. "Just look at me..."
Refusing to lift his head, Dave squirmed uneasily, accidently letting
out a frightened whimper as the cane gently lifted up his skirt. He
shook his head in protest.
"LOOK AT ME!" Prue snarled.
Trembling, Dave slowly looked up, chin shuddering with fear as he locked
eyes with his defeaters piercing gaze. She no longer appeared playful or
mischievous. She suddenly transformed herself into an unsmiling judge of
punishment. "You live within a delusion, Dave," said Prue, her tone
sharp and icy as she slowly ran her cane up his skirt. "You're ill. I
cannot possibly talk you into realising what you have done. However, I
can help you understand by imposing the very same feelings people like
Charlie and I have felt. I will force constant fear, torment, fault, and
shame upon you. I will make you experience everything we have felt until
you beg forgiveness. You. Will. Suffer."
Anxiously panting like a dog, Dave could not form a proper sentence
because of the cane shoved up his skirt and the tight, figure altering
corset that clinched his waist. He tired to speak but the terror of his
privates being crushed got the better of his nerves. He swallowed down
again and cleared his throat. "Y-You think you know him-," Dave gasped,
stopping mid-speech to catch his breath, " - b-but you - you don't know
h-him like I do. I c-can see who he is supposed to be...and - and I love h
-,"
"Unbelievable," scoffed Prue, looking away as she pushed her cane unto
his crotch, painfully squashing his manhood with excruciating energy.
Shrieking, Dave viciously rocked back and forth in the chair, roaring at
the top of his lungs as thrashed about helplessly.
Jumping to her feet, Prue unleashed hellfire as she struck Dave across
each side of his face with enormous vigour, yelling at the top of her
voice, "You are not in love with Charlie! You're in love with the power
you hold over him and you took advantage of his secret! He was just a
confused person and you exploited that for your own perverted
fantasies!" she roared, again striking him twice, flaying his head from
side-to-side to his brief yelps. "He had done nothing wrong!". She
clouted him thrice more on the laps before withdrawing, dropping the
cane to the floor as she stumbled a few steps back.
Dave's head hung low, covered by the long blonde hair of his wig.
Trembling, his legs shook within the very restraints that bound them to
the chair. "H-How can you assume so much of a p-person you only met
once?" said Dave, his voice cleared and breathy.
Straightening herself after her manic outburst, Prue caught her breath,
cleared the hair hanging over her eyes, and straightened out her skirt.
"You don't know what we discussed while you sat outside in your car that
day," she sneered. "I know what it's like to be in Charlie's position. I
recognised his state from the moment I seen him enter the shop and more
so when he told me cross-dressing was an escape from himself, something
ignorant vermin like you will never understand."
Dave looked up, scornfully leering at Prue with pure and utter hatred.
His face was red with lashings and his callous eyes were filled with
fury. He was monstrous. "Is strapping me to a chair in girls clothes
really for Charlie or is all of this part of your own personal
vendetta?"
Prue laughed but not in an over-the-top false manner but a genuine
laugh. She began to circle the chair once again, swaying her hips
devilishly, however, this time she was without the cane.
Mustering up the remainder of his courage, Dave straightened up in his
seat, trying to look resilient in spite of his ridiculous appearance.
"You - you can beat me senseless if that satisfies your so-called
vengeance on 'people-like-me' but you're gonna have to let me go
eventually. My dad is home in a -,"
Prue quickly pulled the chair and watched it slowly lean back before
crashing to the floor like a collapsing tree. Before Dave could yell
every curse word under the sun, she bent down and shoved a cloth in his
roaring mouth. All that could be heard was his muffled cries and
unintelligible insults. She bent over, belittling him, as she looked
upon him as if he were a toddler. "You're right," she said soothingly.
"This isn't just for Charlie, but for me, and all the unfortunates who
have encountered scum like you, so tonight - tonight the tables shall be
turned!"
Dave's eyes filled with terror as he stared up at his captor.
"'Hmmmmufblellehmmenhbghh," was the closet he could get to form a
sentence.
"You want to really know where you are, Dave?" said Prue, her tone razor
sharp and her eyes alight with zeal. "You see, I work in the costume
shop by day but at night I'm a different person all together...Lolita
Lascivious, the chick with the dick who can't get enough fun! Only 100
for the night!" she quoted, voice trembling and eyes simmering with
impassioned tears. She moved in closer to his face, leering into his
eyes so she could gaze upon into his terrified soul. "Clearly I cannot
hurt you, so tonight - tonight I'm breaking the rules. You will take my
place and spend the night with one of the clubs most prolific customers.
A certain person who enjoys emasculated boys in skirts."
"Nyyymmhhhaaabmmmmh!" cried Dave.
"You will know the shame, torment, fear, and pain you caused Charlie...,"
Prue said, her tone cold and icy, "...and when I come back tomorrow, you
will do as I say. If you do not -comply - then I will be forced to keep
you here until you meet my demands."
Dave cried something that sounded like, "PLEASE NO! I'M SORRY!"
Prue stood upright, looking down over her spectacles with revulsion and
distaste. "Don't be sorry," she said, smiling sardonically,
compassionless and unyielding. "You know deep down that you deserve
this." Completely ignoring the desperate cries, she turned and walked
towards the door with a stony expression upon her face but her eyes
festered with a fulfilled sparkle. She unlocked the door, stepped out
onto the hallway where a massively tall, dark man stood, awaiting
anxiously with a vicious hunger on his face.
"Is - is s-she ready?" asked the man, nervously fumbling his fingers
like a dubious child.
"She's all yours. Just don't forget to lock the door when you're in
there," said Prue, refusing to make eye contact as she held up the key.
"I don't want him to escape."
The man's eyes lit up like that of a wild jungle cats, seething bodily
as an inhuman smile spread across his wrinkled face. "Thanks, Lolita!"
said the man, grabbing the key. "I owe you one big time!"
Staring into a trance, Prue removed the black-haired wig from her head
and listened carefully as the man locked the door behind him. She could
faintly hear the man coyly saying hello to his busty bound beauty before
the muffled screams of Dace echoed down the hallway.
Shrewdly, she smiled to herself with satisfaction before walking down
the corridor to her dressing room.
***
"The brakes won't work!"
"Jump, Charlie! Jump out NOW!"
Beneath the layers of warm blankets, the mattress springs creaked as
Charlie moaned and rolled over in the bed. His soft, newly hairless legs
rubbed together like silk atop the smooth bed sheets. He breathed deeply
into his pillow and wondered how long he had been sleeping. He blinked
and shut his eyes again, yawned and managed to open both eyes. From his
horizontal view, he could only see brown and cream striped wallpaper,
slightly peeled, and just inches from the bed.
Suddenly, his ears tuned in to the sound of an approaching menace. The
room began to increasingly rattle and shake by the second. Confused, he
started to feel claustrophobic beneath the blankets, which then caused
him to feel a great deal of panic. Breathless, he quickly slid the
blankets off his body, sat upright, and gasped for breath as if he had
just pulled himself out of a deep lake. He felt as if something terrible
was squeezing on his lungs. The sound of water gurgled and spluttered in
his ears as a subway train screeched by the thin bedroom window.
Amongst his complete bewilderment, a voice called his name, hushed, and
calmed him. "Hey, it's okay, Charlie. You're safe now. You're safe,"
said the cool soothing voice of a woman.
Blood rushing to his head, Charlie looked around, utterly confused
before his eyes met with the mysterious woman. His vision focusing, he
saw Prue, squatting by his bedside, looking up at him with the care and
compassion of a mother. "Where am I?" he asked worriedly.
"My apartment," said Prue. "After I pulled you out of the lake, I called
my colleague to pick us up..."
"Where - where's Dave?" Charlie asked, looking around the room for his
blackmailer.
Prue's face flinched by the mention of his name. "He's - um - not here.
I'm keeping him somewhere else," she said, clearly uncomfortable with
the question. "Anyway, we'll deal with that later," she added, brushing
it off as if was no big deal. "The important thing is that you're safe
and away from that monster. Nobody is going to hurt you here.". She
placed her hand on his forearm, slightly squeezing to help him feel
trusting.
Defensively, Charlie withdrew, not taking his unblinking eyes off her as
he moved away like a frightened creature to the other end of the bed.
"Don't touch me!" he snapped, feeling a boiling remembrance churn in his
stomach. "Don't you dare fucking touch me!'
Prue's mouth fell open, undoubtedly wounded, and shocked. "Charlie, it's
me! Don't you remember?" she said, rising to her feet. "It's Prue from
the costume shop a couple of weeks ago?"
"I remember exactly who you are!" said Charlie, beginning to feel
disorientated.
Perplexed, Prue frowned and said, "Then you have nothing to be afraid
of..."
"Why?" asked Charlie, snide and unkind. "Why do I have nothing to be
afraid of?"
"Because I just saved your life!" bellowed Prue. "I think you can trust
me on that basis alone!"
His head swimming, Charlie looked into himself to find reason.
Everything came flooding back to him like a tidal wave of memory, the
kidnap, the road, the breakdown, the chase, and the lake. He looked like
he had just awoken from coma. He gulped; throat sore and muscles aching
as he kicked the blankets off the foot of the bed. He slid down, seating
himself on the far edge so he would not have to face Prue. "I'm so
sorry," he said, turning his head slightly. "I - I'm just confused, I -
uh - dunno what's wrong with me -,"
There was a slight hesitation in the air as the room became still.
"Don't worry about it," said Prue, seating herself on the mattress,
behind Charlie. "There's nothing wrong with being distrusting after
everything you've been through."
Charlie bowed his head, feeling a longing sensation rising from within
his heart. "I want to go home," he said, words escaping his mouth. "I
want to go home to my family..."
Prue looked deeply concerned and affected by what Charlie had said. "You
will, we've just got to -,"
They both jumped as a mobile phone began to vibrate and ring loudly.
Whipping her cell out from her trouser pocket, Prue looked at the screen
and frowned. "Excuse me for a moment but I've got to take this one!" she
said, leaping to her feet and running to the door. She quickly left the
apartment to take the call.
Left alone within a cringe-worthy state of mind, Charlie nodded as he
mentally kicked himself for sounding so incredibly childish. "I want to
go home," he said, repeating his embarrassing words. He turned around,
folding his legs up onto the bed in a meditative manner. Hunched over,
he buried his face in the heels of his hands until he could see nothing
but sparkles. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs until he could
no longer speak.
He got off the bed and stood up, feeling a little dazed and heavy on his
feet. He could feel the fabric of his clothes sticking to his sweaty
body. Looking down, he saw that he wore an oversized grey t-shirt that
lengthened halfway down his thigh. He lifted it up and discovered he was
wearing blue-striped football shorts underneath. Feeling as if he were
drunk, he stumbled forward a few steps, stopped, gazed around the
cavernous apartment, swaying back and forth like a tower of plates.
Modest was not the word to describe the size and style of Prue's flat. A
word more appropriate would be a sprawl. There was barely enough room to
swing a cat.
It was essentially one, right-angled room with a carpeted bedroom area
and a small kitchen en-suite that was squashed inside the entrance door.
There were stacks of cardboard boxes everywhere, clothes strewn all over
the deep red carpet, an old television set in front of a single armchair
by the window, a large wooden wardrobe, dresser, and chest of drawers.
An electric oil heater was plugged into an extension lead, placed in the
middle of the room with a bikini drying on it. Despite the dated
wallpaper, carpet, and furnishing, the place was tidy yet cluttered to a
certain extent.
Stifled music pulsated from upstairs; the rush of the city outside
penetrated the walls, and the old refrigerator in the kitchen buzzed
annoyingly. The room began to tremor once again. The plates in the
kitchen sink rattled and the wooden furniture creaked as another train
rapidly approached. He ran to the window and parted the old ratty
curtains to see that it was late at night. The view was not very pretty
for an elevated track, massive, iron, and rusty ran right past the
window and over the street beneath it. Louder and louder, the metallic
subway train screeched as it thundered by the window before fading into
the distance.
Shutting the curtains, he turned and listened to Prue's muffled voice
yammering over the phone outside. He could not make out what she was
saying but she did not sound very happy. He stood by the window, leaning
against the broken and rusty radiator. He sighed, feeling a slight ache
in his abdomen where the corset once shaped his body. Noticing that his
fingers felt rather strange, he lifted his right hand to see that he was
still wearing the false nails. He clenched his right fist, scraping the
pointed nails against his palms, and leering at them as if they were
monstrous claws. Something Dave had said once popped up in his mind,
though he could not remember where and when he heard it.
You are so beautiful you know that? I'd say that you are the prettiest
girl in the world!
The door swung open, making him jump as everything flushed out of his
mind. Heart racing, he quickly looked up to see Prue, closing the door
behind her. She took a deep sea-like breath before exhaling like waves
crashing against a shore. "That was someone from work," she said,
throwing her phone onto the bed as she grabbed a hair tie.
"The costume shop?" said Charlie, realising the late hour.
Prue froze, mid-tying, and looked at him through the corner of her eye
with a clip firmly placed between her lips. "My other place of work,"
she said, muttering through clasped lips.
"Oh right, I didn't know you had another job," said Charlie.
Prue did respond even though it was obvious she was listening. She
stared ahead at the wall, concentrating as she tied her hair back into a
ponytail.
Charlie could not help but feel that he had just hit a nerve within his
rescuer. He neither talked nor asked further as he stood awkwardly by
the window, fumbling his fingers between each other. He felt jumpy and
anxious despite his supposedly safe sanctuary. Knowing the mere fact of
standing there was incredible; he felt a strong sensation of
gratefulness as he looked at the woman who truly saved his life. She was
the miracle he desperately sought when there was seemingly no hope left.
Yet, he did not understand how the miracle came to be. He had so many
questions.
Finished tying her hair, Prue let her arms fall to her hips as she
turned and asked Charlie if he was hungry. He had not thought about it
but he realised that he had not eaten since the previous day.
Immediately drawn to his stomach, it began to gurgle and moan as if it
had been waiting to be noticed all day. Nodding, he did not want to put
his host out by taking her food but this time he made an exception. He
was starving.
A few minutes later, he was sitting at the small kitchen table, stooped
over a large bowl tomato soup, and freshly buttered bread as he gobbled
the food down. The sensation of taste returned to his dry and cracked
mouth as the warm liquid slid down his throat and warmed his belly like
soothing gold. A warm sensation spread throughout his cold body from the
ends of his fingers to his toes. Gulping down the last of the soup, he
picked up the glass of orange juice left before him and hurriedly downed
the juice within seconds. Manners and politeness did not escape him as
he carefully silenced his burp under his breath.
Sitting on the worktop with her legs dangling free, Prue watched in
amazement at how fast Charlie could eat when hungry. When he was
finished the bread, she asked if he wanted more but he shook his head
and said, "No thanks but I definitely needed that!", gesturing to the
empty bowl. "Thanks."
Slouching slightly, Charlie gave his body a few minutes to adjust and
digest. He looked at everything in the kitchen except Prue to avoid
awkward eye contact. Despite everything she had done, he still sat in a
stranger's apartment, eating her food whilst he waited for god knows
what. His eyes trailed around the room from the old fifties style
fridge, the overfull sink, wooden cupboards to the brown/white chequered
lino floor. He started to feel slightly uncomfortable, not only because
of the silence but also of the many questions he needed answering.
"How did you find me?" he asked, completely off the top of his head.
Prue smiled, looking up at the fly buzzing around the light bulb, which
hung right above the kitchen table. She looked quiet relaxed as she
looked back upon everything that had led up to that very moment. Sliding
off the countertop, she pulled a chair across the floor and sat at the
other end of the table. "A tracking device I put under the car," she
said, rather thrilled with herself.
Charlie's eyes truly opened with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. He
knew the next question he should have asked was why but instead, he
opted for curiosity. "A - A tracking device?" he said, feeling rather
suspicious. "Where in the world did you get one of those?"
Prue's relaxed state cracked, ever so slightly, as her thin smile turned
to puckered brow. "From people I know at the club," she said, sounding
as if she was in a witness stand.
Charlie could sense another self of Prue, emerging from deep within and
it made him feel uneasy. He felt it was certainly not the appropriate
time to get to know one another. Making himself appear oblivious to her
behaviour, he tried to speak but could not find the apt thing to say. A
part of him told his mind told him that Prue wanted to say something
important about herself, which also related to the situation with Dave
but he did not wish to pry into her personal business. "What - are you
like - like a secret spy or something?" he said, mentally slapping
himself.
"You're not making this easy for me, are you?" said Prue, looking down
at her fumbling fingers. She did not say anything for a moment as she
bowed her head, refusing to make contact as her eyes bubbled with shame.
"I'm a - I'm a -," She stopped, taking quick breaths to calm herself, "
- get a grip, Prue! You're gonna have to tell him anyway!"
His full attention on what she was about to say, Charlie had a slight
idea of what she may be hiding but he did not want to imply in case he
was horribly wrong. "Prue, you don't have to tell me anything," he said,
offhandedly. "There's no reason to -,"
"I'm an escort, Charlie, a prostitute, a WHORE!" she said, making brief
eye contact before looking away, quivering slightly. "I sell - I sell my
"unique" body to men who are into that sort of thing!"
Feeling slightly shocked, Charlie felt he had already guessed after she
referred to a "club". Pondering the relevance of Prue's sudden
divulgement, he did not want to appear selfish or uncaring so he shakily
touched her arm as she had done for him when he woke up. "It's okay," he
said, feeling as if the roles had been reversed.
Lifting her weary head, Prue's eyes simmered with pain but her face
remained stony and pale white. "This is not about me so I don't want to
talk about it," she said, unreceptively pulling away her arm. "I have
never told anyone that before and I never to intend to again but there
are two reasons why it had to be you!". Her head hung oblique. She
opened her mouth to continue talking but no words passed her lips.
Hesitant, she looked as if she had noticed something vital.
Taken aback by Prue?s hostility, Charlie unexpectedly felt himself
becoming lost in her saddened stare. Like Prue, he tried to speak but he
was prevented by the hurt he choked back in his throat. The sheer pain
swimming around her deep blue eyes reminded him of his own. He felt an
odd sense of connection and understanding, something he did not
empathize during the time he first met her. He recalled seeing anger,
confusion, fear, and pain in her as she applied his makeup that day. He
now comprehended her feelings. They resonated with his own and it hurt
so terribly.
Gently nodding as if she could read Charlie?s thoughts, she leaned in
close to his face, eyes locking directly across from his. "I told you
once you reminded me of myself. This is true because from the moment I
first saw you, I felt myself reliving many experiences from my past.
Such feelings I hope never to experience again," she said, frailty
entering unto her dry tone. "I could see so much anger, pain, confusion,
loneliness that it ? that it made me feel vaguely responsible for you.
When I sought after your blackmailer, you can rest assure that it was
purely out of empathy and not for vengeance."
Lost for words, Charlie felt an overpowering sense of connection,
spirit, and resonance. Prue had gone through much of the same, if not
worse, experiences than he had. She knew how it felt and because her
honesty was so truthful, so pure, it made the hot grief stored up in his
heart spill from his eyes and trail down his cold cheeks. He did not
physically feel like he was not crying, rather, hidden deep down was a
truer part of his self that wept. A part of himself repressed.
He could not understand why Prue would put herself through such hardship
despite the fact that she obviously hated herself for it. He could not
help but feel that she was being forced by someone else to sell her
body. He dared not ask for she had already voiced her wish to not speak
of it.
The apartment began to vibrate and tremor yet again as another train
rapidly thundered by the window, wheels shrieking against the track
before fading off into the distance, and leaving the kitchen still and
relatively quiet. The sound of water dripping into the sink, the fridge
buzzing, and the thumping music made them both feel isolated and lonely.
Charlie felt as if the train had awoken him from the deep, hypnotic
trance cast by Prue?s vibrant blue eyes. He wiped away the tears with
the corner of his hand and sniffed. He was sick to death of crying.
"Sorry," he said, clearing his throat and breathing out. He leaned back
in the seat and stretched slightly. Gazing back unto Prue, she looked as
if she was waiting for him to say something back. Confused, he brushed
it off and kept to the point. "I understand," he said, somewhat smiling.
"I really do and you?re right but what is the second reason for telling
me of your ? of your night job?"
Prue was shifting about restlessly in her seat as she was asked the
uncomfortable question. She looked like a child who had done something
terrible. "Um, well, you see ? uh ? I sort of forced Dave into taking my
place for the night at the club?"
"Okay," Charlie nodded, feeling lightheaded as he grabbed onto the table
to stop himself from falling to the ground. An icy wave of dread fell
upon him, freezing his brain, which felt like it needed rebooting. He
felt sick in the stomach as boiling blood rushed to his head. He had
just remembered something he had realised and promised to himself that
morning in the car.
"He deserves it, Charlie!" insisted Prue, grasping his hands to bring
him back to her. "He?s completely delusional and this is the only way to
make him realise what he has done to you!"
Charlie shut his eyes and shook his head with disagreement. "No ? no you
don?t understand, I just remembered that I have to tell my family
everything. Forcing Dave to ? to sleep with men or whatever isn?t going
to solve anything! My - My family, friends, and everyone undoubtedly
knows that he and I are missing! Nobody ever knew of a connection
between us before so I cannot escape it!"
"You can tell everyone what really happened if that is what you want to
do but it won?t make your life any easier by getting the law and
everyone else involved," said Prue, her face filled with passionate
colour. "I know what it?s like to be taken advantage of, to be
humiliated and degraded beyond all meaning. You can force your mother
and sister to stay quiet about the blackmail BUT they will constantly
feel the cold stab of injustice as the problem remains right outside
your door and that problem is Dave!"
"What other choice to I have!" Charlie yelled, slamming his fist
furiously down on the table.
Startled by his vicious outburst, Prue held her breath, eyes agape, with
a frightened expression on her solemn face. She exhaled deeply as her
heart slowed down. "You?re not thinking clearly. You have more than one
choice," she said, calmly looking at her clenched fist. "Your
blackmailers comeuppance has arrived and you can make him do or say
whatever you please. You?re forgetting that the tables have turned for
you, Charlie. It is time you stand up and make the decisions for
yourself."
***
Staring through a smeared and scratched window, Charlie gaped at the
passing rooftops flying by in a blur as the train rumbled along the
elevated track. Sunlight flickered and streamed in between the buildings
and alleyways, occasionally forcing him squint or look away. The sky was
clear blue and promised a warm healthy summer?s day. The metallic sound
of the vandalized carriages thrashing, banging, and screeching filled
the ears of the passengers along with the frequent intercom
announcements between stations.
"The next stop is Lower Marshall Street," said the distorted, voice over
the intercom.
Charlie looked at Prue to ask if it was their stop but she immediately
shook her head before he could utter a single syllable. Feeling nervous,
he returned to staring out of the window. His view soon shrouded in
complete darkness as the train descended into the underground tunnels.
He barely noticed that his forefinger was anxiously tapping his
juddering leg as he delved into his conscience. Feeling a boiling sense
of trepidation, he quarrelled with the promise he made to himself the
previous morning. The time when he felt all hope was lost. He swore to
himself that if he ever got the chance to go home, he would tell his
mother and sister the truth about everything he had been hiding.
Now, he felt he was going against his word by covering up everything
with a lie. Appreciating that the tables had certainly turned, he now
understood that the one who had been viciously blackmailing him rested
firmly beneath his thumb. He could force him to comply with a cover-up
story, a lie, an alibi. Yet despite knowing that the opportunity was
available, he still questioned whether it was the right thing to do
after making such a significant promise. He also wondered if it was
right to let Dave away with everything he had done but then he reminded
himself that he just wanted it all to end rather than wrest vengeance.
The train slowed down and the doors slid open. "This is Lower Marshall
Street Station. The next stop is East Branson," announced the intercom.
The few passengers that were on board got off before a mob of rush hour
workers and citizens flooded into the carriages. Within twenty seconds,
the train took off down the subway, wheels spreading sparks, clasped to
the iron railings.
Charlie started to bite his nails to cope with the nerves he felt deep
down, rattling his bones, and prodding his mind. He felt uncertain of
the plan. He did not feel confident in its ability to succeed. Creating
an alibi was risky and dangerous. He knew how Dave could be wilfully
unpredictable and deceptive. He felt that the blackmailer was disorderly
therefore could not be ordered. The only self-assurance he felt was
Prue?s confidence in herself and of the plan, even if she did appear to
disagree with the resolution to be untruthful to family, regardless of
her coming up with the idea in the first place!
He wondered what Prue had done to Dave that made her appear so self-
assured. He did not have a chance to ask her because she slept shortly
after they discussed the alibi. He was not sure if he wanted to know. He
stayed awake through the night because he had already slumbered all day
long. When Prue awoke that morning, she gave him her phone number and
lent him some of her clothes (which were actually boys), a pair of navy
sweatpants, the grey t-shirt tucked in, and a green bomber jacket. He
also showered and had the false nails removed from his fingers. However,
he could not reverse the waxed legs or the thinned eyebrows. He had no
idea how he was going to explain them if someone noticed. He knew he
would have to wear his fringe down and always wear trousers for a while
until the hair grew back.
A thousand uncertainties sat upon his mind as the train continued to
rush through the underground. Carriages swayed, pushing into one
another, noisily knocking, and smashing as some passengers coughed under
their breaths, crinkled newspapers, and chattered too loud over the
phone. Prue remained silent and looked serious yet oddly satisfied.
Sitting with her legs crossed, she wore a tight pair of blue jeans,
extremely high-waisted with the legs rolled a few inches above her
ankles. Tucked into them, was a deep green shirt, buttoned down a few
notches, with the sleeves rolled all the way up her arms. On her feet
was a pair of black and white converse, ankle-less, and slightly tatty.
Aviator sunglasses covered her eyes with a silver nose piercing, and her
short blue hair was done in a ponytail.
The number of passengers decreased by each station until there were no
more than a few scattered in each car. The train ascended up from and
the tunnels and crossed the east district bridge that led to the The
Ampthills, which was the north-eastern quarter of the city. After the
thirty-five minute transit, they eventually arrived at their stop which
was declared as, "East Brook Station".
Giving a slight nod to signify their stop, Prue stood up, and held her
handbag firmly to her side. "We?re getting off here," she said, as she
dug into her handbag.
Feeling a complete sense of dread, Charlie had hoped they would never
arrive at the stop. He dolefully followed her onto the platform, tiredly
dragging his feet after him as the hot sun pelted down upon the rear of
his neck. "Is the place far from here?" he asked, looking around the
relatively empty station.
Prue fished out a box of cigarettes, withdrew one, and placed it between
her lips as she looked ahead through her dark shades. "Not too far," she
said, scratching a match against flint and raising the flame to the
head. "It?s just down the end of this street," she said through clasped
lips, giving a nodding gesture forward before taking a long drag.
They moved forward and down the steps onto the street below. As they
walked with each other, it was clear that they were both beginning to
feel tense and anxious as they approached the club. They barely said a
word to each other. Prue stared ahead, military-like, and staid as she
stressfully smoked her cigarette. Charlie tried to walk slowly in an
attempt delay the oncoming confrontation but Prue?s swift pace kept him
on due course.
The Ampthills was a moderately small district but it was completely
separate to the rest of the city. Not exactly known for its narrow,
steep, and hilly streets; rather, the borough was more famous for its
rampant crime culture of all classes and nature. From bootlegged
products to class A drugs and prostitutes, it was not exactly a place
Charlie ever felt inclined to visit. The quarter?s eclectic number of
foreign nationals gave it a truly international atmosphere, from the
compacted street markets, multicultural bars, shops, and fish ports to
the occasional argument shared down steam-rising alleyways.
Swiftly sauntering down the sidewalk, Charlie and Prue steered clear of
pedestrians, and casually overtook slow walkers. They were in a rush to
get to their destination and spared now time to other expenses.
Charlie could not avoid the obvious tension he shared with Prue. She had
barely talked throughout the entire trip and she appeared to be hiding
herself behind the dark sunglasses. Swallowing down his fears, he
rallied up the nerve to confront the divergence he felt. "Correct me if
I?m mistaken, but you?ve been very quiet since I made the decision to go
through with this," he said, wedging through a group of people as they
crossed the road.
Deeply inhaling her cigarette, Prue exhaled through her nose, refusing
to look at him. "The decision to continue lying to your family?" she
said, turning onto a deserted and narrow street. "Nope. It doesn?t
bother me in the slightest bit!"
Charlie could not tell if she was being sarcastic but her stubbornness
was beginning to aggravate him. "Look, I don?t need you ? a ? a complete
stranger judging the decisions I make with my life!" he said, feeling
his blood boiling. "You came up with the bloody idea!"
Prue immediately stopped, threw the cigarette to the ground, and quickly
took her shades off, unleashing the vibrancy of her deep blue eyes.
"It?s not the lie that worries me!" she said abruptly. "If anything, I
agree with how much it can help you but It?s what it could possibly lead
to that makes me feel like a ? like an enabler when I know I shouldn?t!"
"What do you mean?" asked Charlie, feeling astray and sickly.
Prue grasped Charlie?s arm, attempting to make him understand and
connect. "Look, if I was in your position right now, I wouldn?t like
telling my family these personal secrets under such severe circumstances
but I need to know that this isn?t going to be a permanent get-out-of-
jail card for you," she said, looking into him with sincerity and
gravity. "I need to know if you can disallow these horrible experiences
and secrets to burden you for the rest of your life. You can?t hide
these things forever. I understand you can?t reveal yourself yet but you
need to tell someone close to you when you feel it is right."
Charlie could not believe what he was hearing. He was unable to fathom
how a person who barely knew him could assume so much. "Prue, this whole
cross-dressing thing was just a phase, a brief desire to ?," laughing,
he looked away for a moment. "It just started out as curiosity and I
never meant to be caught and ? well - it just blew up into this one big
thing! Once this is over, you can rest assure that there will be no
burdens to bear! No more cross-dressing!"
"You?re not thinking about his clearly, Charlie!" said Prue, urgently
placing both hands on his arms. "You know I can understand your feelings
and a part of that I can plainly see is denial. Once this is over, I beg
you to look within, find yourself, and then, only then, you will
understand yourself enough to let loved ones know of your true self.
Don?t shut yourself away from family. I could be right or completely
wrong but -,"
" - you?re completely wrong!" Charlie interjected, angrily throwing her
arms away. "I appreciate all of your help; I really do, but don?t just
think of yourself as some all-knowing guru who can solve my problems!
Even if you can see things then it?s none of your god damn business!" he
yelled, taking a few steps back from her. "You sound just like Dave," he
added, shaking his head before turning away. He had no idea where he was
going but he walked away nevertheless, feeling incredibly angry and
misled.
Utterly crushed by Charlie?s hurtful stab, Prue frowned, strutted after
him in another attempt to be incentive. "Wait up!" she said, running
forward a few steps. "I know it?s not my place but I implore you to
think about what I have said when all of this is over. Don?t make the
same mistakes I?ve made by allowing secrecy to destroy you and
everything you hold closest to your heart. I?m not asking you to make a
promise for me but please, please promise yourself. Find trust to tell
somebody what you feel is necessary and righteous because in the end -,"
She stopped for a moment as if she realised something, " ? because in
the end, family is all you have?"
Charlie did not want to listen to what he felt was another lecture. He
turned around to Prue who looked hopeful of a resolution. "The sooner we
get to this club, the sooner I can go home," he said, gesturing her to
lead the way.
Within minutes, they had arrived at their destination, which was down a
short cobbled alleyway. They entered through a large metal door with a
sign hanging above that read, "Foxes Gentlemen?s Club" written in neat
golden italics. Stepping into darkness, Prue flicked the light switch,
revealing a narrow hallway, which was carpeted with deep red on the
walls and floors. Inside the door, there was a small box office,
protected by iron bars. It was empty.
"It?s just down here," said Prue, nodding forward as she dropped the
keys into her bag.
They moved down the narrow hallway, stifled music growing louder, before
entering the club through another set of thick double doors. The club
was rather huge, lit with pinks, purples, and blues. A dozen circular
stages with poles in the middle were scattered amongst an array of
carefully placed armchairs and coffee tables for punters to carelessly
throw their money away. Two glass-topped bars ran around the perimeter
of the room, wine, and beer glasses hanging down from above, with the
shelves stocked with usual and exotic beverages from around the world.
Absorbed by the old-fashioned carpet, easy-going jazz flowed through the
air, relaxing the senses, and easing the tension.
Charlie had never been to a ?Gentlemen?s Club? before because he was too
young, but he could tell it obviously a place for the wealthy. He
expected to see Dave somewhere but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, he
spotted a man sitting at the bar, hunched over, with a cloud of smoke
hanging above in the purple light. Looking to Prue for guidance, she
failed to acknowledge him as she simply walked ahead. "Sit for a
moment," she said, not requiring his company. "I have to talk alone with
someone."
Feeling rather snubbed and a little marred, Charlie waited behind,
watching Prue walk towards the bar. He sat down on the nearest armchair
and looked around the club with a strange mixture of wonder and slight
anxiety. He never thought he would find himself in such a place. "I have
to get home soon," he muttered.
Prue approached the man sitting at the bar. He was dark, rather lumpy,
and dressed completely in black. Ignoring her presence, he took a deep
drag of his cigar before taking a swig of vodka. He looked like he was
drinking all night for his eyes were bloodshot and sagged, much to the
uneasiness of Prue. "Thanks for everything yesterday," she said, her
voice slightly higher in pitch. "I appreciate the help ? I mean ? we
both did."
His chair creaking, the man looked over his shoulder, leering at Charlie
before returning his attention to the bar. "Does he even realise what
kind of people he?s dealing with here?" he said, scoffing as he raised
the bottle to his lips. "I bet his balls haven?t even dropped yet."
"He doesn?t have to know," said Prue. "You can go now."
Laughing raucously, the man heaved himself off the bar stool, grabbed
Prue?s arm and reeled her into to his face. "I can come and go as I
please, tranny!" he said, eyes bulging and broiling monstrously. "The
only reason I stayed here all night is because I expect to be rewarded
very, very handsomely." Letting go, he grabbed his jacket, threw it over
his shoulder, and drunkenly stood rooted to the spot. "The boss is back
in a couple of days," he said, his coordination jumbled and surly. "He?s
not going to be happy when he finds out that his special girl hasn?t
been doing her job lately!"
"I know he?s coming back. He called me last night," sneered Prue.
Ignoring her, the lumpy man raised his arms and wiggled his fingers.
"The boss is all knowing," he said, mimicking a magician, hiccupping,
before swaying around towards the exit door. "He is ALL KNOWING!" he
repeated, his voice booming throughout the club. He left through the
side door, villainously chortling.
Suddenly appearing beside Prue, Charlie asked what had just happened,
breaking her out of a bewildered trance. She brushed it off as nothing
and walked away, signalling him to follow. They climbed up two flights
of stairs, which led to a hotel-like corridor, carpeted and painted
luxuriously.
Charlie could feel his heart thumping like a horses hoofs on a dirt
road, continuously gaining momentum as he glided down the hallway. His
mind flipped into overdrive as his entire body over boiled with
simmering heat, his skin moistening with anxious sweat. They stopped
outside a door, to which, a muffled voice could be heard on the other
side. He looked at Prue and received a single nod in return. She knocked
on the door and the voice from the other side stopped talking.
Seconds later, the dark, towering man peered out from the door. "Oh hi,
Lolita! Please don?t tell me my times up already?" he said, sounding
disenchanted.
"I?m afraid so. Get dressed and be out of here in thirty seconds,
pronto!" ordered Prue.
Looking slightly aroused by Prue?s strict demeanour, the creepy man
slipped back inside the room, and shut the door. There was silence for a
moment until a subdued scream infiltrated the walls.
It was Dave.
Charlie was scared. He looked to Prue for resonance but she just stood
impatiently, wearing a cold and unsmiling face as she carelessly
withdrew another cigarette and lit it. "Why did he call you Lolita?" he
asked, trying to mute his nerves.
"It?s the name I use when I work here," said Prue, taking a deep drag of
smoke into her lungs and exhaling. "That?s not relevant right now."
It kind of is!
The tall, creepy man opened the door, mumbling thanks as he clumsily
buckled up his belt, and waddled down the hallway. "I?ll see you again
soon, Lolita!".
Charlie hesitated, swallowed down his fears, and entered the room with
Prue, his guardian, by his side. In front of him, was the four-poster
bed, standing gloriously as the centrepiece of the burlesque-style
furnishings. He could hear nothing but the heavy breathing of someone
hiding beneath the blankets. He looked at Prue and she gestured towards
the bed. Feeling as if he was nearing a cliff edge, he nervously moved
to the bed, his hand trembling as he raised it towards the blankets.
Pulling them over, he instantly turned away, eyes shut, as if he had
just opened a body bag. There beneath the blankets was Dave, rolled over
on his side, arms wrapped around his hairless and semi-naked body as he
whimpered and shook like a wounded animal. His blonde wig remained
intact, hanging over his face as his arms covered and pressed into his
chest-bound breasts. His corset undone, the skirt, blouse, and top
absent, he wore only a pair of white panties with a slight lace trim.
There was blood stained on the satin sheets.
Unable to see who had entered the room, Dave slowly rolled over,
grimacing in pain as he revealed his face from behind the wig. Smudged
and blotched in patches, the makeup, which he wore, looked monstrous and
deformed by an excessive amount of burning tears. He looked like a
distorted jester with his pink lipstick smeared over his chin and
cheeks, his eye shadow darkly drooping and tearful, with his charred,
and cracked foundation that looked ever so uncomfortable. As he looked
up at Charlie, he immediately began to sob and blubber like a child,
mouthing the words, "I?m sorry."
As he looked upon the pathetic creature before him, Charlie could not
help but feel a strong sense of pity welling up inside him, in spite of
everything the horrible creature had done to him. If anything, he felt
more repulsed than sympathetic.
Prue strutted over and violently pulled Dave off the bed. "Put your
clothes on!" she snapped, aggressively throwing him to the floor.
Yelping like a dog, Dave scurried across the floor in search of his
uniform. Grabbing the skirt, he immediately rose to his feet and pulled
it up his legs before grabbing the blouse and buttoning it up a few
notches. He backed into the corner, cowering as his eyes darted from
Charlie to Prue like a defenceless baby deer. "Please," he said
hoarsely. "?please don?t hurt me!"
Prue took out a small digital camera from her bag and immediately began
snapping shots of Dave dressed in his degrading attire. "Gorgeous, baby!
You?re a tiger! You?re a beast! I want to hear you growl!" she tittered,
impersonating an archetype photographer, as the flash continuously
snapped pictures.
However, Charlie was not laughing nor was he amused by the the look of
ruin and vulnerability on Dave?s face as he helplessly recoiled into the
corner. He watched in disbelieve as the blackmailer who once had
complete control over him, retreat and flinch into absolute exposure.
Once again, Charlie felt himself fall in between his morals as he
contemplated the right thing to do. Hidden deep down, memories of his
time with Dave began to pop up in his memory.
Put the uniform on immediately or I?ll send this picture of you to
everyone in school, right here, right now on my phone.
In time you?ll learn that so put on that pretty little outfit unless you
prefer to have your dignity destroyed forever.
When I look at you, I am looking at a beautiful girl, when I touch you,
I am touching a girl, and when I kiss you, I am kissing a girl.
"Would you leave me alone for a moment, please?" Charlie asked, politely
gesturing Prue towards the door. He knew he would not be able to speak
with Dave properly until the one he feared most had left the room. "I
just need to chat with him in private."
Prue looked at Dave and then at Charlie. "Okay," she said
disappointedly, turning and leaving for the door. "I?ll be waiting
outside if anything goes haywire."
Charlie relaxed himself, breathing out calmly as he slowly moved around
the bed, pitifully looking at the squirming creature eying him from the
corner. "I?m sorry that it had to come to this," he said, honest and
true as he stopped at the end of the bed and placed his hands on the
footboard. "I had been thinking of countless ways to beat you for months
that I ? that I never expected it to be like this."
Dave slowly moved out of the corner, clearly appearing more at ease
since Prue was no longer present. Silent, no words passed his lips as he
looked away from Charlie, at his body, and then shamefully towards the
door. There was no escape from his humiliation. He opened his mouth to
speak. "Charlie I -,"
"Don?t, just don?t," said Charlie, apathetically shaking his head.
"You?ve done enough talking. It?s my turn now."
Rooted to the floor, Dave turned quiet and did not move a muscle. He was
staring down at his feet, squashed into the heels, flinching at the
sight of them.
"How does it make you feel?" Charlie asked.
Dave did not respond or move from his spot. He began muttering something
very quietly under his breath.
Straining to hear what Dave was saying, Charlie moved in closer,
startling his captive in the process. "What are you saying?" Charlie
asked, standing directly in front of him. His ears caught two words
uttered through Dave?s lips that were, "Don?t answer." Backing away,
Charlie did not feel too comfortable standing so close to his
blackmailer, "You will answer me," he said with courage and authority.
Lifting his head, Dave muttered, "You know how I feel!", before letting
himself fall against the wall. His back slid down until his rear hit the
floor, hot grief spilling from his eyes and melting his face. "You
know," he said repeatedly through the steamy blur of tears before
trailing off into frantic sobbing. "You know how I feel?"
"Good," said Charlie, approaching Dave with caution before kneeling down
next to him. "Now you understand what it?s like, but tell me ? I want to
hear you say it."
Lying against the wall, Dave?s chest heaved as inhuman sobs rose from
deep within. Shaking his head, he burst into tears in a disturbingly
girlish fashion as he buried his face into his hands. "What do you want
me to say?" he said, throwing his hands up before shielding his
distorted face from view.
"I want to hear you voice your feelings to me," said Charlie, trembling
because he was both scared and angry. "I need to know if it?s gotten
through to you."
Hesitantly turning his head, Dave closed his eyes, streams flowing,
before opening them, wide and simmering. "I feel worthless," he said
shakily. "Degraded. Afraid. Lonely."
Charlie felt something click inside him as he listened to Dave pour out
his heart. He moved away, feeling uncomfortable with the strange
feelings welling up inside him, a sensation of resonance and
reverberation. As he looked into Dave?s soaked and bloodshot eyes, he
could see a human side for the first time ever. Looking completely
different in this light, he appeared fragile yet pure and real. He felt
he was supposed to be angry rather than sympathetic.
Clearly distressed by Charlie?s stunned silence, Dave began to blurt out
nonsensical explanations and apologies. "I?m sorry ? I ? I cannot help
it, I ? I get ill ? I?m not well ? I mean I have b-been very sick and it
has b-become worse recently and I ? P-Please don?t send that man back!"
Rising to his feet, Charlie felt an extremely powerful urge to leave at
that very moment, for the sight of Dave was making him think and feel
disturbing connections to his blackmailer?s woe. "You won?t be seeing
that man again unless you don?t do as I tell you. Do you understand what
I?m saying here?" said Charlie, shrinking his pity to revert to
authority.
Dave nodded miserably. "I just w-want to get out of here," he stammered.
"Well, when we do allow you to go home, you will tell your father
everything you?ve been up to and I mean everything. Prue will be there
with you so you won?t try anything funny like altering the truth," said
Charlie, grim-faced and cold, as he paced back and forth. "You will then
?" He swallowed and licked his lips, struggling to list the next order,
as it was quiet a huge one. " ? you will then leave town and never
return."
Dave immediately jumped to his feet, startling Charlie in the process.
"You can?t expect me to -,"
"It?s either that or you go to jail for blackmail so take your pick!"
shot Charlie. "The only people who will know what truly happened will be
you, your father, Prue, and myself. I consider that a much better deal
than you deserve! If I was actually a girl, your ass would belong to the
police right now but I?m not a girl, I?m a boy! Something you struggled
to comprehend over the past few months. So you see, I?m not going to
tell my secrets just because you put me in a position where I felt
forced to do so. It?s not time."
Dave opened his mouth to protest but Charlie warned him not to by
flashing a threatening look. "Finally, if you manage to find yourself in
a tight position where you must answer to the connection between you and
I, you will tell them you were selling me green leafs and tablets
because that was the reason you were outside my house. You understand
that I?m referring to my family here?"
"Yes," Dave gibbered, eyeing the door fearfully.
"If you don?t comply then those pictures of you in that outfit will be
posted all over Facebook," said Charlie, refusing eye contact. "You
should also