Cat And Mouse - A Cresswell Industries Story Pt 17 free porn video

XVII: Entrapment Sweetie remembers her girly-posture. Day and night. Lowly sweetie, eyes aflutter. Waldo's eyes slowly opened, and adjusted to the lights from the nearby windows, none of which prohibited the winter sun from shining down upon the weary young man's face as his eyes fluttered rapidly. It was then that he realized, in the very next moment, that the skies were too bright for this to be the early morning, which was when he was supposed to rise to get his bus. Ooh! Girly sweetie puckers her fright, eyes so wide in forgetful surprise! Ooh! Girly-posture! The tips of Waldo's fingers went to his cheeks as his eyebrows rose up. His lips puckered and his eyes boggled in the realization that he had missed his trip back to the bus stop! He quickly slipped out of bed, finding a pair of cute pink slippers at the side of the bed. That they were of a feminine design meant nothing to Waldo as he stood to his proper posture, taking mincing steps as he headed for the room's closed door. Girly-sweetie swings her hips to and fro, mincing her precious steps. To...fro...to...fro... Waldo began to feel inescapably nervous and timid as he looked around for Mistress Celeste. A finger went to his lip as he tried to figure out where she could be. "U-ummm..." Waldo continued to scan around the area, maintaining his feminine gait. "...Mmmistress Celeste? Where...where are you...?" The smell of fresh coffee now served as his guide as his mincing steps followed the direction of the scent. As the scent grew stronger, however, Waldo began to feel a little more nervous. Overpoweringly so, in fact, and as the onslaught of deeply- laid subliminal messages that played to him as he had slept compelled him to do, he slowly lowered to his hands and knees, shivering terribly as he entered one of the residence's kitchens, where the scent of coffee was at its strongest. Sure enough, Mistress Celeste sat at the kitchen table, sipping at a cup of coffee as she read a fashion magazine. Celeste was able to catch Waldo's entrance by way of her peripheral vision, but feigned ignorance as she smirked. Sweetie never speaks to Mistress unless spoken to! Lowly sweetie waits her turn! As much as Waldo wanted to break the ice and blurt out the obvious conundrum, he couldn't. He just remained where he was, on his hands and knees, keeping quiet. Celeste drained what little coffee there was left in the mug, and placed it down on the table without turning her head at all. Her eyes remained on the magazine in front of her. "Refill my cup, sweetie," Celeste then remarked. Having spotted the coffee-maker as he had come in, Waldo rose up and grabbed the mug by the handle, mincing over to the glass jug within the coffee-maker. Filling the mug with more steaming hot coffee, Waldo tried to resist the urge to quiver nervously as he carefully brought the mug back over to Celeste. As much as he wanted to be back on the ground where he belonged, Mistress needed to accept the coffee he brought first, having obeyed her command. After a quiet moment, Celeste accepted the full cup of coffee. Feeling euphoric over having pleased his Mistress, Waldo lowered himself back to the ground, on his hands and knees. Deep down inside, however, Waldo was struggling to figure out why he was doing these things. It was that part of him that lingered in his initial desire to get on a bus and head for his initial rendezevous with the science team. At the moment, it was difficult to focus on that...but he did finally manage to speak up about it. When he spoke, however, he was inescapably nervous and hesitant with his words. "U-umm...Miss Celeste...m-my...myyyy bus? I think...I think I missed it." "I was waiting for you at the car, too. I started it up, and I waited," Celeste coldly replied. "And you had made it sound so urgent, too. It's your own fault for not disciplining yourself to wake up on time, Waldo. I wasted gas for a good half hour because of you." "But...but...I can get another bus, can't I?" "Oh, you expect me to drive you over now?" Celeste turned and glared down to Waldo. "You need to buy another ticket. Do you have the money for it?" Waldo lowered his head. He had a bit of money left, but it was not enough to purchase another ticket. Since the ticket process was by machine at that stop, negotiating with a live clerk was not an option. Awkward silence was Celeste's answer, and she knew it. "I didn't think so...and no, I will not lend you the money you need. You already owe me enough as it is." Sweetie never cries. Oh, no! No tears. Never tears. Tears ruin makeup! Sweetie never wants that! Despite Waldo's helplessness, he swallowed the lump in his throat, never shedding a single tear, and began to worry for what felt, at that moment, like a kidnapping. His regret over not waking up in time to have Celeste take him to the bus stop was overpowering. "I...I'm sorry, Miss Celeste," he finally, weakly, remarked. "I'm s- sorry for making you waste your gas." Celeste smirked at this reply. She was, at the same time, quite amused for the fact that she was never anywhere near the car at the time Waldo should have been awake, and if he had tried to wake her up, that would have given Celeste all the cause in the world to severely punish Waldo for having done so. Obviously, however, Waldo was responding quite well to the prototype subliminal conditioning program offered up by one of the women on Rita Noble's executive board. The initial recording was a bit amateurish in its raw form, but Celeste had the recording tweaked to the point where it was far more potent. It remained only for Waldo to make use of her shower stall. Beyond that, there was no escaping his fate. Celeste simply shook her head, slowly, in response to Waldo's apology. "Since you're obviously not going anywhere, you might as well get in the shower and clean yourself up, sweetie. You smell like a pig fresh out of a mudhole." Sweetie always does as Mistress commands. Sweetie always does as Mistress requests. Evidence of a smile began to show at the corners of Celeste's lips. A very devious smile. "Unless...you like being dirty. Being smelly. Smelling like...dried cum. Like you took a bath in all that thick, gooey warmth, and you never cleaned yourself off in more than a day." Sweetie loves cum. Sweetie earns cum. Cum is succor. Cum is the elixir of life. To be drank. To be bathed in. Thick. Warm. Wonderful. Want. Waldo blinked, as if a new chain of thought was taking hold. "Cum..." Want. Celeste's devious smile grew wider. "Yes? Did you say something, sweetie?" Waldo shuddered, a hand going to his head. "...cum..." Want. "Ugh, disgusting!" Celeste suddenly feigned angry revulsion. "You really do have cum on your mind, don't you? Unbelievable," She fired an index finger towards one of her bathrooms. "Get in that shower, you dirty little pig!" Sweetie always does as Mistress commands. Sweetie always does as Mistress requests. Waldo crawled away quickly, scrambling to his feet as he left the kitchen behind him. He was able to find the nearest bathroom, which contained a large shower stall. Slipping out of the silk lingerie he was wearing, he set the water to a comfortable temperature and stepped in. He found himself not bathing so much, in the streams of comfortable water that rained down upon him from over his head, as he was luxuriating in it. It got to the point where he didn't really care much about the mists within the stall being strangely pink in color... * * * - QueenCel '< : Petal! Glad I caught you. I need you to do me a favor. - SwtPetal '< : Yes? - QueenCel '< : I need you to contact Rita for me. I don't have the time right now to chat with her directly. Let her know that the prototype subliminal file Melina Ashton submitted for consideration earned her a 5% raise in her salary. - SwtPetal '< : Melina...Ashton? - QueenCel '< : Yes. She's one of the dominatrices on Rita's Executive Board at Loris. - SwtPetal '< : Oh. Okay. - QueenCel '< : Petal? Why are you having me wait in upwards of two minutes to respond to my texts? - SwtPetal '< : We...may have a problem. - QueenCel '< : EXPLAIN. - QueenCel '< : Don't make me wait, bitch. EXPLAIN. EXPLAIN NOW! - SwtPetal '< : A bottle of semen from one of your angels has gone missing. It was one of the experimental prototypes. It may have been from Julia Stroud, but we don't know for sure. - QueenCel '< : So? Have them trace it! - SwtPetal '< : That's the problem, Celeste. It wasn't marked for tracing purposes. - QueenCel '< : ................................................... - QueenCel '< : F - QueenCel '< : U - QueenCel '< : C - QueenCel '< : K - QueenCel '< : Fuck - QueenCel '< : FuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuck - QueenCel '< : Petal? Let me make this 500% fucking clear. - QueenCel '< : FIND - QueenCel '< : IT. - QueenCel '< : Understand? FIND IT!! I don't give a SHIT how you do it. GET THAT FUCKING BOTTLE, and find out who was being so goddamn lazy! - SwtPetal '< : Yes, Celeste...and I'll get your message to Rita as well. ----===*CHAT TERMINATED*===---- * * * Donnie Blatz moved as silently as he could through the second floor hallways of Bullchester University, towards the gymnasium. Vengeance...cold, but sweet...was on his mind. He was still feeling the throbbing from the beating he received from Ron Bailey, who had interrupted his recurring urge to torment a socially awkward bookworm named Howard Venis. Or, as Donnie liked to call him, Howard Penis. Bailey apparently felt sympathetic for the young man, perhaps during the many times Donnie pranked and pestered Howard. Spitballs during class, snowball shots during the Winter months, wedgies whenever he went to the bathroom...Donnie put Howard through it all. He hated that skinny geek. It always bothered him that such scrawny wimps could do better at their schoolwork than Donnie could. To Donnie, Howard seemed like a complete showoff. But it never occurred to him that Howard could ever make friends with a guy like Ron Bailey, who was one of the school's top athletes. Ron had sucker-punched him from behind as he snuck up on Howard to trip him up and spit on him, and then he beat Donnie senseless. Now, it was Donnie's turn. He had made it into the gymnasium. The bully knew enough about Ron to know that before his gym period was over, he would go into his locker and pull a water bottle to drink from. Further working to Donnie's advantage was the fact that one of his buddies also knew Ron well enough to know the combination to his lock. A part of him feared that Ron would come after him, but he didn't care. He was consumed with desire to get back at the meddlesome athlete. He had needed to wait until just before Ron's gym period. Donnie's friend had his own gym period before Ron's, and he had promised Donnie that the lock on Ron's locker would be open. It wasn't getting past the hall monitors and security guards that would be a problem. It was the disadvantage of working in the dark. The gym lights were on, but when the gym was not in use, the lights in the locker room were off. Fortunately, Donnie had a small, but powerful keychain flashlight with him as he crept into the locker room, and looked for Ron's locker. Donnie's accomplice had told him the locker number, so he was able to single it out. The lock was indeed disengaged, so the black-haired, buzz-cut and acne-faced rotter carefully slipped the lock hoop away and opened the long steel door. Sure enough, the water bottle was there. Donnie needed to work quickly and carefully as he lowered to a knee, holding the small flashlight in his teeth. His right hand fished in the pocket of his faded gray jeans to pull a vial with a thick gray liquid inside. He had overheard his father say, last night, that it was semen. Donnie didn't steal the full content of the semen in the bottle, but rather poured a bit of it into a long, thin glass vial he had stolen from Science class. The sturdy vial was small enough to fit in his pocket. Opening the refillable, big plastic bottle, which was half-full of water, Donnie emptied the contents of the vial into the clear water within. Closing it back up, and then giving the bottle a shake to mix in the semen, he placed the bottle back in the locker and then quietly closed the door. Slipping the curve of the lock back through the hole, he quietly squeezed the lock shut. Now it was a matter of getting away clean. Pocketing the empty vial, he hurried out of the locker room as quietly as he could... ...but a flashlight, a larger one, shined right in his face before he could reach the door to the gymnasium. "Blatz," Donnie knew the voice belonged to a large black man. One of the security guards he never knew by name. "This ain't your gym period, is it?" The bully squinted as the light continued to blind him. "I...I left somethin' in my locker, man." "I'm not dumb, kid," the guard responded. "You're that guy that's always teasing Howard Venis. Figured you'd set up another prank, eh? Not today, you don't." "I didn't go anywhere near Howard Penis's locker," Donnie protested. The guard shook his head. "Likely story." He then grabbed Donnie's arm with a very tight grip and began to drag him out of the locker room. "Come on, we're gonna take a little trip to the Dean's office." The more Donnie struggled, the more painful the guard's grip became as they ascended the stairs to the school's third floor, where the Dean's office was located. He didn't care what would happen to him as he neared the Dean's office. This wouldn't be his first time in there, and he had been warned on his last visit that he'd be expelled if he was caught tormenting Howard again. This circumstance, however, technically worked to Donnie's advantage. He was getting in trouble for what would be suspected as setting up a prank against Howard, while completely ignoring the fact that he had actually spiked Ron's drink. And as Ron did indeed drink from his bottle following his gym class workouts, Donnie...who was rewarded by the Dean with expulsion from the school...had indeed accomplished his mission. All Ron observed, after sipping from the semen-infused water bottle, was that the water tasted a little strange. A bit confused, Ron had dumped the contents of the tainted bottle, washed it out, and refilled it with a fresh amount of bottled water. The angel semen, however, was already in his system. * * * Waldo didn't notice it until after he had finished drying himself off with the towel after a shower that left him a bit dizzy and even confused. His body hair...all of it...was gone. Sweetie needs to remember who he is! WHAT he is! Hold on! Hold on! No matter what happens, hold on! The hairless boy reached for the silken underwear that had been left for him...but he stopped himself. Why in the world were THESE left for me? He thought to himself. These are GIRL things! I'm a man! Wrapping a towel around his chest, and then wrapping another around his damp head of hair, Waldo moved with mincing, effeminate steps... ...but then stopped himself, rapidly shaking his head. He also noticed that he had wrapped his towel far above nipple level, which was not how he was used to doing it. Lowering it down to his waist, he resumed his pace in a more manly fashion. Harrumph! Man! You're a man! Take charge, sweetie! Have a little pride! March right up and DEMAND your manhood! Harrumph! With a frown on his face, Waldo looked around for one of two things. Celeste, or a dresser. Finding the latter in one of the large house's many less effeminate guest rooms, he began pulling open drawers and closets in his hunt for more...manly modes of dress. Celeste's voice stopped him as he continued his search in a second guest room, having found nothing but empty drawers in the first. "What are you doing?" Take charge, sweetie! Take charge! Be a MAN! He never lowered himself to the ground this time. Waldo felt the overpowering urge to stand his ground in front of the woman glaring at him. "Where's my things? You know...the clothes I wore when I came in?" Celeste arched an eyebrow over the clear defiance in the hairless boy's voice. She feigned mild shock over his demanding manner of inquiry. "Is there something wrong with what I gave you?" "Uh, yes," Waldo shot back. "They're girl things." Celeste grinned. "Well...I am the only one who lives here, sweetie." Waldo sighed out in his irritation. His tone became a little louder. "Where are my clothes??" "Hey! Don't get yourself in a huff, Waldo!" Celeste angrily responded. "I washed them while you were sleeping. They should be on top of the dryer downstairs." Sweetie should still remember his manners. Especially when in a house that is not his own. Just because you are taking charge doesn't mean you should abuse the privilege! Waldo throttled back on his irritation within seconds. "Oh. Okay. Sorry," He blushed in his embarrassment. "I'll just...go get them, then." Celeste nodded, an expression of annoyance still on her face. "Don't ever talk back to me like that again, Waldo. Remember who's house you're in." The hairless boy blushed deeper now. "I know, I know. I'm sorry." A devious smile then formed on the taller woman's lips. "Kissy, kissy." Oooh! Kissy kissy! Pucker up and kiss, kiss! Kiss, kiss! The words compelled him to literally pucker his lips, angle his head up, and kiss at the air, twice, in that moment. When he made his way downstairs to the basement, he had a hand on his head, and a confused look on his face. Once Waldo had found the laundry room, he saw that Celeste was true to her word. The pile of his clothes were indeed there, and neatly folded. Scooping the pile up, he went to one of the nearby dungeon areas to dress up. As he began slipping on his white cotton men's underwear, he found himself staring around at the dungeon area around him. The smell of fresh leather filled his nose as he pulled off the damp towel and neatly folded it up. He was slow to put his clothes back on, eliciting a curiosity over how a woman like this could afford to make her basement into something he could not help but be curious about as his gaze continued to travel along the gold stud-lined and padded black walls, the imposing-looking implements of whips, chains, and riding crops hanging on the wall, and the odd pieces of padded furniture. Once he was fully dressed, he started walking around the dungeon area to get a closer look at the... "Waldo!" Celeste's voice shouted from above. "Are you dressed yet??" "Yes!" he called back. "Then get up here," The woman called down. "We need to talk!" Celeste's expression was eerily neutral as a fully-dressed Waldo stepped back in front of her. She had to be sure that this manner of discussion she was about to have with her young guest would not reveal too much of this more unique phase of the ongoing conditioning. She chose to speak to Waldo in the kitchen, where she gestured to a chair. "Have a seat." Remembering his manners, Waldo nodded, smiling, and settled onto the cushion of the offered seat. He clasped his hands together upon his lap. "So..." Celeste began. "...tell me a little more about this thing you missed your bus for this morning." "Huh? Oh, the science thing," It took a moment for Waldo to recollect, but he was able to remember the necessary details as he recited them. "It was a kind of...research thing. A-a think tank. But...I missed my window for it now. They were going to relocate to another place after everyone was gathered to where I was going. Our, uh...rally point, so to speak. My only other option now is to go home, but...well...I don't want to do that right now." Celeste nodded as she listened, maintaining her neutral expression. If you have talent in science, she thought to herself. perhaps you can be of some more...private use. "If you continue to behave yourself, you will not have to," Celeste remarked. "As you can see, I have several guest rooms. You can just keep using the one you were in last night." Waldo frowned at this, knowing how girly that room looked. "Couldn't I go to..." "NO," Celeste firmly shot back. "This is not negotiable, either. I have reasons for this that are none of your business. The only alternative is that I put you back out on the road, and you know that bus stop is many miles from here. You don't have any money to pay for another ticket anyway, do you?" Waldo let out a loud sigh as his head lowered. He then shook his head. "Oh, don't be so glum," Celeste snapped. "Get a fresh pot of coffee brewing. You do know how to make coffee, yes?" The young man had never touched a cup of coffee in his life, much less learned how coffee machines of any kind could be used to brew a pot of the stuff. Waldo, nevertheless, found himself nodding. The devious smile now played on Celeste's lips. "Get busy then, sweetie." The conditioning in his head guided Waldo's movements as he rose from his seat to begin brewing something he had never done before, yet the conditioning during his evening's sleep, which he had continued to hear and reference in his head ever since he woke up, made it possible for him to make use of Celeste's coffee machine to the point where it would be ready to begin filling the clear glass pot once the temperature was right. "Now go clean your guest room while you're waiting, sweetie." Waldo immediately departed to where he had slept the previous night, seeing to the condition of the bed and replacing the sheets with fresh new ones. He even knew exactly where to go to find the new sheets, this in itself another perk of his relentless conditioning during his first evening at Celeste's home. Once Waldo was done, he returned to the kitchen...and found that the coffee pot was full and ready to be served. Pouring into a mug, Waldo presented the steaming hot mug to Celeste. As Celeste knew that this particular conditioning method was dependent on trigger phrases and words such as 'sweetie' and 'kissy, kissy', she was prepared to take her lingering guest on a maddening trip in which his masculinity slowly melted away, even as he continued to wear his male clothes and underwear. The idea was to watch this innocent- looking young man hopelessly surrender to the gradual alterations that the fragrant chemicals in Celeste's shower stalls were already in the process of inflicting on his body. After taking a sip from the hot coffee mug, Celeste glanced at her guest amusedly. "Kissy, kissy." Once again, Waldo found himself kissing at the air, twice, and in an inescapably effeminate manner. "Now sit, sweetie," Celeste sharply requested. "Let's talk science for awhile." * * * "Foreman, has the Jury reached a verdict?" Tamara and Larry were on their feet, their heads craned to the Jury box. The court battle was about to end, and the both of them knew that it would be incredibly difficult to get what they wanted in terms of a judgment. But their part of the fight was over. It remained only to hear what the Jury had decided. A part of Tamara felt bad for the fact that she had technically cheated, using more of the information that Julia had provided than the plus-sized secretary had initially wanted to use to make their fight easier. Still...it satisfied Tamara to see how the sensitive info she had supplied had put a mystified and ashen look on the face of the prosecuting attorney. "We have, Your Honor," the Jury's female foreman calmly replied. The middle-aged male Judge nodded. "And how do you find the Defendant?" Tamara could practically feel how nervous their male client was. He had hoped that the uphill battle they had fought during the trial would end in some kind of a settlement, but it never came to that. If the Jury ruled against him, he had thought about contemplating suic... "Not Guilty, Your Honor." A smile formed on Larry Hanel's face. His reputation was safe. One more client of his was now scot-free. The prosecuting attorney, however, was mystified. She had made a request for the Jury to individually call their verdicts, and they were all unanimous. "Not Guilty." Their client let out a huge sigh of relief. His life, which had nothing at all to do with the Cresswell conspiracy, was secure, and both Larry and Tamara were quick to assure their client that everything would be okay from now on. Larry drove his more relaxed secretary to a more expensive and upscale restaurant to celebrate their victory. Tamara had hoped that Maggie would surprise them both by making a surprise appearance, but there was no sign of her anywhere. After the wild night they shared that one evening when Maggie re- affirmed her affections for Tamara, however, she didn't feel quite as bothered by her no-show. As Tamara continued to consume her own calorie-heavy meal, a smiling Larry swallowed down a mouthful of his own less-fattening food as he regarded his secretary. "Great work, sport! Y'really came through for me on this one. You should really start thinkin' 'bout my off'r t' become a paralegal, if y' haven't already!" Tamara just smiled in response. As much as she wanted to bask in the glow of the credit for the victory, she knew the price she had to pay for using it. This was a tough case to win, and she had wanted to believe that Larry could win it without Julia's files, but the plus- sized secretary didn't want to see the reputation of her likable boss tarnished through a loss. "Y'know..." Larry continued. "...I'm tempted t' ask you 'bout your sources on th' stuff y' found for me..." Tamara tried not to let the sting show in her face, but she did feel an inescapable chill run through her as Larry made this remark. "...but, I should remind you that I'm not quite as perfect as my rep might show. I have lost a few, so...don't feel too bad if we can't win one. Still...this was a tough one. I'm glad we came through for our client." Tamara nodded, the smile back on her face, as she took another forkful of her food into her mouth. She then felt a vibration from her smartphone. A message had been sent to her. Regardless, she kept her attention on her meal. "Uh...you all right, Tamara?" Larry then asked. "You've been awful quiet." It took a moment for his secretary to respond. "Huh? Oh...yeah, I'm fine. Just...thinking about stuff." "Yeah...you've come a long, an'...unique way in your life, haven't you?" Larry replied. "Do y' miss your old life? Or is that too personal a question? I'll und'rstand if it is." Tamara thought on what was quite obviously a broad manner of inquiry. It wasn't too long ago, after all, that she was not only in a car with her mother starting a fresh new chapter of their lives in another city, but that she was also once a 'he'. Still...while the idea of being more or less a fugitive was never a pleasant one, being employed in a job that earned her satisfying paychecks made the rough spots a little more manageable. Even if the Cresswell women had somehow found and captured Maggie, Tamara could still hold out, financially, on her own. Without Maggie's guidance, however, she'd feel all the more nervous for the steps she might take in being on her own. Tamara shook her head, disarming the tension with a smile as she swallowed her food. "No, it's OK. I...guess you could say I'm getting used to all this. I mean, I don't have much of a choice, do I? But..." She reached over and placed a hand on Larry's idle hand, resting on the table. "...I have you to thank for hiring me. That played a big part in my being able to cope." The seemingly unconscious gesture...placing her hand on Larry's...made urges deep inside her stir. Wanting to have her boss in a bed while her mouth worked hungrily on his cock. Maybe even run her tongue around his anus. She was unaware that her eyes had narrowed with these thoughts. Larry blushed. He sounded a little nervous as he replied. "Well...y' haven't let me down yet, sport. An'...I should say, you...y' certainly...blossomed into a real catch," She could tell, just by his tone, that Larry might have been wrestling with the same unspoken urges as well. Tamara's tone was a little more flirtatious now as she spoke. "Do you like women like me, sir? Women with a little more..." She rubbed a hand against her large chest. "...meat, on their bones?" Larry smiled nervously now. "Well...uh...guys where I come from do have an eye for thicker frames..." His tone began to sound like an invitation. "...but...Tamara, aren't these kind of things puttin' you back in Rita Noble's lap? I had thought y' wanted t' get away from that kind o' thinkin'." Although this didn't disconnect Tamara from her unconsciously lustful thoughts, she nodded as she released Larry's hand. "Yeah...you're right. We need to keep things professional between us. I'm sorry." This earned her a pleasant smile from Larry. "Don't be! Hell, I'm flattered that a woman as nice-lookin' as y'self had an eye for me t' begin with." Tamara nodded as she smiled back. As they continued eating, her curiosity turned to the message that had been sent to her that she had not yet seen. Excusing herself to go to the bathroom, she disappeared behind the lavatory door and pulled her smartphone to check her texts. Sure enough, a fresh text had indeed been sent. Congratulations. I heard about the victory. Come to me tonight. I want us to celebrate. Do not send a reply. Just obey your Mayoress. A time, and an address, then followed beneath the message, which she knew had come from Julia Stroud. Her expression darkened. She obviously hoped that neither Larry nor Maggie would catch on to these clandestine meetings, and she hoped that Maggie would never plan something impromptu that would get in the way of these encounters with the Mayoress. But she couldn't resist what amounted to a siren song whenever Julia contacted her. There was something about her that made her want for Tamara difficult to resist. An urge to kiss the cockhead of the Mayoress once more...with her wrists bound behind her...manifested as the troubled secretary read the text. She tried not to let her own nervousness show as she returned to the table she shared with Larry. The smiling attorney raised an eyebrow. "That was quick!" Tamara shrugged, smiling back. "False alarm." * * * Special Agent Marion Briggs always savored a challenge, and as such, she was quick to accept the latest dare given to her by her friend and dominant, Mary Katzhoff. The mission could be summed up as one where she needed to go into the belly of a beast. In this case, the beast was the city of Bullchester. She needed to go to a place called Cincher's. The job was one of surveillance and intelligence-gathering. She also came in with a determination to accomplish a far more important secondary task, if she could manage it. She had prepared for this secondary task, establishing a considerably foolproof cover identity which easily got her inside the club. She made sure to dress in a provocative manner, so she could fit in with the crowds who usually populated Cincher's on a weeknight for the sake of watching their often racy showcases. Tonight's performance was to be based on an outer space theme. "Otherworldly Bliss", it was called. A lesbian show between two "aliens". Briggs found the concept admittedly intriguing. Just before the show began, Briggs caught sight of a man with long, platinum blond hair, and a set of pointed ears which were undeniably prosthetic attachments. He looked very convincing in his "elf" guise. He spoke to someone he was calling on his cell phone, speaking german. Although Agent Briggs knew the language, she couldn't hear what he was saying over the heavy beat of the club's music. She was only able to catch some confirmation about a job through what she heard. Maggie, the club's owner, then came out when the music stopped, to introduce the act in her own flamboyant and entertaining fashion. Marion's mind now began to wonder how she will be able to accomplish her secondary objective. The floor of the stage was made to look like a rocky terrain, complete with a well-done matte painting of the "alien planet" to go with it. A female, dressed in a skin-tight, sky blue leotard, came out in a curious fashion. The skin-tight leotard blended perfectly with her skin, which was itself sky blue in color. Alluring makeup was on the woman's face, and she wore her hair in a beehive-style updo. It was also sky blue in color, with white highlights. A prosthetic attachment...a very realistic-looking third eye...could be seen just above and between her eyes, and between where her eyebrows should be. It was a particularly interesting semblance of a humanoid alien. This young woman was then joined, from the opposite side of the stage, by her apparent partner. She had the same skin-tight leotard, but this one had bright pink skin matching her leotard(lending the illusion of the both of them being fully naked), a head of long and curly purple hair, and a tail which had a dildo at the end of it. Similarly affixed to her head were a pair of what looked like thin, rigid springs, the ends of which had small silver ping-pong balls attached. Obviously, the pink alien had a pair of antennae. Perhaps in homage to older public perceptions of what martians would look like. Their bodies were wildly feminine. The pink alien...whose head of colored hair looked like it was the same style as that of Marilyn Monroe...had a pair of large K-Cups on her chest. The other one Briggs estimated had a pair of H-Cups. The two aliens seemed to study each other before eventually engaging in a wild, erotic dance. Heavy petting followed before the two aliens came together to share in their obvious lust for each other. Judging by the loud panting and the moaning they were both emitting during this performance, it was clear that they were into each other offstage as well as on. To say that they were entirely convincing in their mutual affection was a definite understatement. Briggs glanced to the german elf. He seemed to be beaming with pride. She continued to think of a way to achieve her secondary objective without generating suspicion. She began to think that this might not be the right time to accomplish this. But then, the two women disengaged from each other, and began scanning the audience. Stepping down from the stage, they wandered through the crowds, looking upon select audience members with lustful eyes. The eyes of the pink one eventually found Agent Briggs, and she sauntered alluringly over to her with a hungry smile. Briggs smiled back, inviting the performer's intentions. She let the pink alien make the first move, and she embraced Briggs, rubbing the perfect hourglass of her body against Marion's. "Ow...!" The pink alien quietly flinched as she rubbed her thigh against Marion from below. The Agent feigned surprise. "Ooh, sorry," Briggs quietly remarked, blushing in her convincing embarrassment as the pink alien rubbed the area where she felt the sting. "Safety pin I missed. The dress is new. You OK?" Thankfully, the pink alien's expression of shock was short-lived, and she quickly lapsed back into her more lustful expression after nodding. She lingered with Briggs for a bit, appreciating the Agent's own nicely-formed and well-toned body, before moving on to another audience member. Getting out following the performance, fortunately, was not difficult, and no one followed her out. But her secondary mission was thankfully complete. She had the blood sample she wanted from one of the girls on the needlepoint she had quickly stabbed the pink alien's thigh with. Now it was just a matter of analyzing it, and finding out everything she could about it. That needed to wait until she left the city, and reported in at a lab facility well outside of Bullchester. For the moment, however? Mission accomplished. * * * As Tamara waited in the cab to reach the destination Julia had texted to her, she could not help but rationalize this as a kind of faustian appeasement. She had accepted the devil's offered aid in helping Larry win the case through the offering of the necessary files, and now, Tamara needed to honor her part of the bargain. Whatever that 'part' needed to be. Thankfully, it was not to be the same place that they had their last secret liaison in as the cab slowed to stop at the destination. This time, apparently, it was a private residence in a quiet suburb. Ordinarily, she'd perceive this to be strange, but this was the Mayoress of Bullchester. She would logically have the kind of influence and the resources to make this kind of an arrangement. Looking at the windows, Tamara saw that the lights were on, at least. Perhaps Julia wanted to make the plus-sized secretary feel a little more 'at home'? As Tamara stepped to the door, she began to feel a bit of anticipation as she sounded off a couple of raps on the door. Thinking about the way Julia treated her the last time they were together filled her with undeniable excitement. And when the door opened, there she was. Julia looked particularly eye-catching, too, in a dress that appeared to be a mostly-latex version of a schoolmistress. A black latex cravat was wrapped around her neck, the material hanging down from a cameo at the center of her neck. A white silken blouse with puffy shoulders could be seen beneath a latex wrap hugging her slim body, straps going over her shoulders like suspenders which were attached to a corset- like midsection that ended below in a skirt-like addition. Thigh-high boots with stiletto heels were on her feet, and black latex gloves covered her hands, running up her arm through the blouse sleeves. Julia's hair was in an imperious-looking and intimidating updo as she stared back at Tamara. The former boy began to think that this was not going to be the celebratory visit she imagined it might be, but that conclusion didn't make Julia's appearance any less alluring. "Good evening, Tammy," Julia began. "Step on in, and go right upstairs. Go into the room with the open door." Going into the house, she saw that the place might have been very nice once, but it was now a bit unkempt. It definitely needed a cleaning. The fluffy rug had stains, pictures hanging on the walls were tilted, a faint smell of nicotine was in the air...this looked more like the domain of a slovenly man than anyplace a woman like Julia could live in. Heading upstairs, and entering the only open door on a floor full of closed doors, effectively revealed what Julia had in mind. The second floor room itself...a bedroom...also needed a bit of cleaning. In fact, it was more of a mess than the foyer and the living room she had passed through below. The place barely resembled a room, and it was definitely a man's room by Tamara's estimation. And then, her eyes fell upon the pile of clothes...black, and white, in color...that had been placed upon the disheveled bed. Not so much clothes as they were a uniform. A maid's uniform. The door behind her was suddenly closed. Tamara then heard Julia's voice. "Do not come out of there until you dress in your uniform, and you finish cleaning that room. Understood?" Tamara's experiences with her own mother, when she temporarily served as her maid, came back to her as if they were subliminally stored, and she instinctively replied, "Yes, M-Miss." A lot of what Tamara needed to do once she had the maid outfit on was to straighten things up, clean up a lot of the scattered cigarette ashes, and clean up a handful of dried stains. Fortunately, there were cleaning materials beside the disheveled bed. The scattered clothes...all of them stained and smelly...were put into a pile. Beer cans were thrown into a blue bin, and soiled paper plates were trashed. The provided bins also looked new, and one of them had a pair of rubber cleaning gloves resting on the bin for Tamara to use. Anything that was lying around that did not look like garbage...mostly sports-related stuff...was stored away in the room's closet, which she also needed to straighten up. Doing all the labor in this way seemed to excite Tamara a little, and in a way that doing office work for Larry Hanel couldn't compare to. Perhaps, Tamara surmised, this was another lingering effect of Rita's conditioning? Tamara paused for a moment as she was finishing up. "God- dess...god...oddess...goddess..." She still couldn't just say 'God'. She found that part of her subliminal programming fairly creepy. Once she had finished her work on the room, it was much, much cleaner. A can of air freshener was sprayed around the room before she felt it was as clean as she could get it. When she opened the door to the room to leave, she saw Julia standing there. Peering into the room to survey Tamara's work, she had a satisfied look on her face. "Very nice. I figured your cleaning instincts would turn this dump into something resembling an actual bedroom." Tamara gave an unconscious curtsey, just as her mother had showed her. "Thank you, Miss." Julia crooked a finger and gestured for the plus-sized former boy to follow. "Come downstairs, maid. You have more work to do." Once again, she oddly felt a distinct thrill over the prospect of a housekeeper's labor. It was both frightening and...stimulating...at the same time as she followed Julia down the stairs to the first floor like an eager pet. Julia then pointed to a soiled recliner. "Start with that, maid. I want to sit there while you work." Another curtsey in response as the Mayoress pulled off one of the elbow-length latex gloves she was wearing. "Yes, Miss." With more cleaning materials placed on this floor, she was able to give the recliner's soft material a good scrub-down, and the furniture piece was totally clean in under three minutes of Tamara's work. The former boy felt Julia's naked hand caress under her chin. In that moment, Tamara's thoughts were a disoriented jumble. "Very good. Continue, maid. Work hard for your reward." Continue, maid. Work hard for your reward. "Haaah..." The words kept playing over and over in Tamara's head, as if they were all that mattered to her. It almost felt like the words themselves were massaging her brain. She managed a curtsey through this. "...y-yessss, Miss." Tamara began busying herself with the housework necessary to clean the entire floor, polishing, washing, and even vacuuming where necessary. Pictures on the walls were straightened up, scattered bits and pieces of garbage were collected and trashed in provided, empty bins, broken light bulbs were replaced with new ones...the sty that Tamara had walked in to was gradually becoming much less so. She found herself performing efficient cleaning techniques she never knew she could do. The Living Room, the Kitchen, the odorific Bathroom...Tamara set to cleaning it all as Julia settled herself upon the recliner and pulled her smartphone out to pick a name out from her contacts list. As Tamara continued to clean around her, she waited for her contact to pick up. "Hello. Mr. Hardcastle? It's Julia. I wanted to let you know that as per the arrangement we made, you should be coming home to a much cleaner place than the one you left behind. Yes, I have one of the best maids in Bullchester working on it right now," Tamara couldn't help but blink in her surprise over Julia's words...particularly the bit about Tamara being 'the best maid in Bullchester'...as she continued speaking to 'Mr. Hardcastle'. "You should know, however, that this is a one-time deal. She cannot be your permanent maid, I'm afraid, seeing as how she's a very busy little butterball. No, I don't care how much money you're offering. You can't have her. There is one thing I will expect from you, though...your political support. I've been developing some surprisingly potent opposition from feminist groups, of all people, and I could use all the leverage I can get. No, this is not a choice, Leonard. You WILL give me your support. People like me can make your life very, very difficult, so don't test me, OK?" She then sighed after a moment of listening to the voice on the other end. "Did I stutter? This is a ONE-TIME DEAL, so keep that 'big black cock' of yours away from my maid. Understand? Or do I have to remind you of the folly of crossing me? Good boy. We'll be out of here late tonight in time for your return tomorrow. Same to you, dear. Goodbye," She clicked off the phone. "Prick." About an hour after Julia ended her conversation with 'Leonard', Tamara finally finished her work, and when she returned to face Julia, she looked as if she was coming out of a mild daze. Her thoughts were less of a jumble now. She was finally able to think clearly, although she did look a little exhausted. Julia finally rose from the recliner, returning it to its 'neutral' position, and stood right in front of Tamara. "Excellent work, maid. I could see how much you were enjoying the work. You did me a big favor tonight...but I should note that there are other things here that you need to polish for me." As she said these last few words, she began to undo the fastenings that kept her large, artificial phallus hidden from view. She then pointed to her thigh-high boots. "Untie my boots, maid." Tamara dropped to a knee to comply with the request, loosening up one boot, and then the other. She was able to slip out of both with the former boy's help, laying her bare feet on the freshly-vacuumed carpet. The boots were neatly placed to the side. Tamara began to rise to her feet, but Julia raised a hand in restraint. "Stay down there," She then stepped closer to Tamara, exposing her erect penis to the kneeling maid. "I miss the feel of your lips lavishing love and affection upon my cockhead." Remembering the last time in the penthouse, Tamara began kissing at the head of her offered phallus, once again rubbing her lips softly and lovingly along the sides of the slit, letting out little moans as she did so. "Mmmmmmm. Good girl. Very good girl, Tammy," She caressed Tamara's cheek again, this time with her other, latex-covered hand. "Now, pull down your skirt, turn around, and use those big, fat, lush butt-cheeks of yours for another more...stimulating polishing job." Tamara had a pretty good idea as to what Julia wanted this time. She remembered doing it for the Mayoress in their last secret meeting. Complying with the request with a curtsey and a 'Yes, Miss', she pulled down the skirt of her maid outfit, panties and all, and turned around to position her butt crack against the rigid flesh of Julia's warm, erect penis. She then began to rub her moist posterior along the length of Julia's phallus. The entire time, Tamara knew this kind of humiliation was necessary. She was totally conscious of it all. Paying off the devil over a bargain that was struck between them, so to speak. She maintained that as long as she knew her mom was safe(and thanks to Kat, she was), she was willing to make such sacrifices of her pride. The former boy felt Julia's hands grab both sides of her butt and pull it in closer to her, guiding the rubbing Tamara was doing now. Gradually rubbing her cheeks up and down and along her warm, hard phallus. Tamara momentarily feared that the Mayoress would feel compelled to penetrate her vagina with her cockhead, but that never happened. As this was all happening, Tamara couldn't help but catch the scent of Julia's bare feet. It was starting to make her feel a little warm inside. Her head began to throb. It was another part of Rita's conditioning that seemed to be reawakening. Perhaps that was part of the program, Tamara thought. Perhaps Julia wanted the plus-sized secretary to be everything Rita wanted Tammy Porntoy to be when she first attempted to create her sex-hungry shemale slut from the foundations of a young man named Timothy Portnoy. Why else would she have asked Tamara to untie her boots? "Hmmm. You seem a little hot and bothered, dear," Julia turned her sweaty, plus-sized maid around to face her once more. "Perhaps you should take that uniform off, seeing as how you're finished cleaning up around here. Strip down. I want you completely naked for your Mayoress, Tammy." As Tamara began stripping the remnants of her uniform off, she noticed that Julia was doing the same. Once Tamara was bare, the Mayoress signaled for the former boy to assist in removing the remnants of her latex outfit. Once she was fully naked, Julia once again stroked a bare hand at Tamara's cheek. Once again, Tamara's thoughts scrambled. Her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably when this happened. As much as Tamara tried, she quite simply could not think straight. "Tammy desires the lovely smell of bare, spent feet," Julia spoke softly, right into Tamara's ear. "Tammy needs to be as close as she possibly can be to such feet. To feel them push, and rub against her face. To suck deeply upon the toes, and along the surface, from ball to heel. To capture the scent on her hands, and her face, so that she always remembers her place when she is with her Mayoress," Both bare hands were on Tamara's face now as she brought her lips closer to the ear, whispering five more words. "I know you want this." Julia then guided Tamara to the floor in front of her as she panted heavily. The words Julia spoke resonated in Tamara's mind, practically caressing her brain, as before. The plus-sized secretary stared lustfully down upon the bare feet of the Mayoress, who brought both feet up to her face and began rubbing them against it. She could hear Tamara sniffing between quivering breaths as she kept rubbing her feet upon the former boy's face. Tamara's hands then began to rub upon one of the feet, sucking upon one of the toes at the same time. Julia couldn't help but look down at Larry Hanel's plus-sized secretary...the son of a womanizing bully...with quiet satisfaction, a slight smile playing on her lips as Tamara continued to tend to the feet of the Mayoress. After a few minutes of generous foot worship from her enraptured maid, Julia reached down with a bare hand to rub at Tamara's head of hair as if she were petting a dog. "Pull yourself...slowly...up to me, Tammy. I want to look in your eyes as you rest against me." Still panting from the intoxicating scent of Julia's feet, and with her thoughts still enough of a jumble to render her susceptible to suggestion as a result of Julia's unique abilities, Tamara slid up against the bare, warm body of the Mayoress as she rose from the floor, practically slithering up Julia's body like a snake until her eyes were level with that of the Mayoress. Julia smiled, shaking her head slowly, as she played with locks of Tamara's hair. "Look at you. So lost to my power. I could take you right now. Make you mine. You would devote yourself to me. I would be all you would ever think about. By night, by day...you wouldn't bear to be without me." Julia wrapped her bare arms around her back and embraced the plus- sized former boy tenderly, letting her rest her head upon her shoulder. "Thaaat's right...just relax, dear. You've earned it, after such a rewarding day, and such good cleaning work. Wrap your arms around me. Let me continue to feel your bare body against mine. Let us share our warmth." Even without the persuasive capacities of the Mayoress, Tamara found this agreeable, even if she believed their association to be a considerably dangerous one. She didn't care in that moment, though. She wrapped her arms around the bare body of Julia Stroud and held her tightly, savoring the natural warmth the feminine body of the Mayoress provided. They remained that way for a moment that, to the both of them, seemed to last forever. Julia was hesitant to finally admit her true feelings for her guest, but in that moment, it seemed like the perfect time. She angled her head over to be able to whisper into Tamara's ear. Her body trembled as she spoke. "I...I love you, Tammy Portnoy," Julia finally, softly, cooed into the former boy's ear. "I couldn't stop thinking of the beautiful creature you've become. You're so strong inside, and so much more than Rita Noble would ever really want you to be," She had to swallow a lump in her throat, fearful of how Tamara would respond to this. Her eyes began to water as her arms held Tamara's body tighter, and much more affectionately. "I love you so much...!" Tamara moaned pleasurably over the comfortably tight embrace. Now it was Julia who was panting with ecstacy. She rubbed her head against Tamara's, like a purring cat showing affection to its owner. Tears streamed down the eyes of the Mayoress. She then placed her hands gently upon either side of Tamara's head, and pushed it away from hers so she could stare into the eyes of the plus-sized secretary. "But I can't force you. I won't force you. I won't let myself do that. Not to you, my sweet Tammy," Julia rubbed at that side of her chest where her heart was. "I want your feelings to come from here. I want you to make the decision, and...and I'm willing to wait for it," She paused a moment to wipe at her tears, sniffling as she tried to regain her composure. "All you need to do, if you feel the same way about me as I do about you..." The Mayoress now tapped an index finger to her lips. "...is to kiss me. Right here." Tamara obviously knew what that meant. Julia's tone as she made her confession, however, was as genuine as genuine gets. This was no mere fabrication. No trick. The fact that the Mayoress was actually crying...trembling...as she brought her feelings out into the open was certainly in evidence of this. Tamara was at a bit of a loss as to how to respond to this. A part of her felt it might still be some kind of a trick. Especially with the notion of her kissing the Mayoress on the lips to seal their eternal association. Quite literally, in fact. Tamara was about to speak, but Julia placed her finger on the former boy's lips, stopping her. "No," Julia gently remarked. "Don't say anything now. Please. I want you to think about this. I want you to be sure of your decision. Just know that if you would rather not..." Julia pressed her forehead against Tamara's. "...my affections for you won't change." Julia then brought her lips closer to Tamara's. Perilously close. They never touched, but they were within a precarious inch of doing so. She could feel Julia's breath on her lips. Julia even allowed for Tamara to keep her clarity of thought in this moment. Even though Julia was in physical contact with the plus-sized secretary, she didn't make use of her persuasive abilities to make Tamara more susceptible to suggestion. The initiative, in this moment, had to come from Tamara, and of her own free will. "Don't you...love...your Mayoress?" Julia quietly asked, continuing to hover her lips close to Tamara's. Were one of them to be nudged, they would be locking lips. "I have to go," Tamara finally responded, as softly as Julia had spoke. "I'm sorry." Julia's grip loosened as her eyes closed, allowing Tamara to pull away from the Mayoress as more tears rolled down her cheeks. Tamara then went back upstairs to slip on the dress she wore when she arrived at the house. After a long, quiet moment, Julia spoke to no one in particular in her response as Tamara began dressing herself back up. "I understand." Julia never made a move to get dressed. She just remained in her chair, totally naked, and was still as such when Tamara descended the stairs to return to her. The Mayoress wearily looked up at her. "Thank you for coming. Congratulations on your victory earlier today in court. Consider your debt to me repaid," She weakly remarked. Tamara nodded. "Thank you, Your Honor." "Don't forget," Julia added. "My offer still stands." She tapped her lips with a finger to remind Tamara of this. "I know," Tamara slipped on her jacket. "Have a good night, Madame Mayoress," She performed a slight curtsey before turning around to approach the front door. Opening it, she left it behind her after closing the door. For nearly an hour, Julia remained in the recliner, totally silent, and still naked. She just stared forward, and she couldn't help but feel...empty. Julia finally rose from her seat, and stepped over to the large mirror that Tamara had cleaned so well. She stood before it, staring at herself. "You bitch," She spitefully remarked to her own image as she wiped away her own tears. "You're such a fucking bitch." * * * Tamara chose to distance herself a little from the house before bringing up the car service app on her smartphone. According to the app's estimate, she needed to wait ten minutes...and in chilly night weather...for her ride to arrive. She was quite obviously thoughtful about what had happened. What Julia had told her. Obviously, a good portion of her experiences were hazy considering the kind of persuasive abilities the Mayoress seemed to possess, but Julia's confession as to how she felt about Tamara was obviously a moment of pure clarity. The plus-sized former boy could not deny that a part of her felt the same way about Julia. She was so alluringly dominant around her. Part of the reason it was difficult for her to resist Julia's wants was because she got such a rush out of being compelled to do what she had been tasked to do during her stay. The maid cleaning. The foot worship. The loving embrace. She resolved, however, to maintain her affections for Kat. The woman who had effectively saved the life of Ruth Portnoy. Got her away from the Cresswell people. Tamara was totally indebted to this dangerously attractive woman, and she did love her very much for it. Kat even had a dominant personality all her own. Tamara was curious to see more of it. The beeping of a car horn near where she was idly standing brought her out of her deep thinking, and she hurried over to enter the rear passenger portion of the car, which was being driven by a bald, well- built man who looked strangely familiar. "Good evening, Miss...Portnoy, is it?" the driver asked. Tamara nodded. "Yes. Thanks." "Just sit back and relax, kewpie," the bald driver advised. "Should be a long ride, after all." The locks on the doors of the car suddenly snapped shut. Tamara blinked in her surprise, her eyes widening. She was still trying to figure out why the driver looked familiar. She then quickly drew out her smartphone and accessed the car service app. Usually, the app would show a picture of the driver's face. The featured driver looked nothing like the bald man keeping the car moving. "Don't try anything stupid, kewpie," the driver then warned. "I will stop the car, and I will knock you out." Tamara swallowed hard, trying to keep from sounding afraid. "Who the hell are you?" "My name is Xavier," the driver replied. "We've actually met before, kewpie. Peaches and I came to get Mayoress Stroud off your hands when she got drunk and staggered over to your boss's office." "Stop calling me that," Tamara now glared at her captor. "Would you rather I call you...Porntoy?" Xavier mused. "Fuck you," Tamara shot back. "In case you're wondering, we're going back to Bullchester." The driver kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. "Your Mistress, Celeste, has had enough of the hide-and-seek games you and your psycho friend have been putting the Sisterhood through." "She's not my Mistress, asshole," the plus-sized secretary countered. "Listen, kewpie...don't think I don't know anything about you," Xavier responded, a touch of irritation in his voice. "You're the sissy-boy son of a womanizing prick who crossed someone who happens to be very important to Celeste...and it was Celeste who made Rita Noble the woman she is today. Rita Noble made you what you are now because Celeste needed leverage in getting her cousin...who is now lost to us, thanks to your little hellraiser friend...into a position at the Butterfly Salon that would lessen the burden on Celeste. Now we may not have Ruth Portnoy, but we sure as hell have you, and there's no way your Mistress Celeste is going to let you go anytime soon. Besides...we could use you as leverage to get what we want from your attorney friend as well." "And what makes you think my little hellraiser friend isn't going to raise hell over what you're doing right now, cueball?" Tamara defiantly inquired. "Because the next time I see that meddling little bitch, she's a dead woman," Xavier angrily answered. "I don't give a fuck what Celeste, Agatha, or anyone else says. She beat me down once and got away with it. Next time we meet, that snippy little hussy isn't gonna be as lucky. I'm gonna kill her, Tammy Porntoy. She's dead. Dead, dead, dead. I'll do whatever it takes to wipe her out. By gun, by blade, with my own two hands, with whatever I can get my fucking hands on. She's dying at my hands, and mine alone." Tammy's mouth formed a half-smile as a thought occurred to her. "You love her, don't you?" Xavier frowned incredulously. "Excuse me?" "If you want to kill her that badly, there must be some interest in her," Tamara deduced. "You envy the fact that she beat you down, and you want to go again because soldiers like you crave that kind of thing. You love it, just like you love her. Makes me wonder if you really had any interest at all in 'Peaches' to begin with." A tiny flame deep within Xavier began to grow now. "We're done talking. Shut up. Not another..." "If only Peaches knew how you really felt about Maggie." Tamara was grinning now. "How do you think she might react if she knew that you're not the most faithful of men, hmm?" "I'm not warning you again, Porntoy." The anger in Xavier's voice was becoming more evident now. "Shut the fuck up!" "I don't think you'll summon up the guts to kill Maggie, cueball," Tamara spitefully challenged. "I think she'll bring out the wimpy little coward inside you that you probably still are deep down inside. Some pathetic little momma's boy who always does as he's told. Like a good little doggy." With a loud and furious cry of anger, Xavier screeched the car to a halt, rolling the vehicle to the side of the road as other cars on the freeway roared past. He then lunged into the back seat and grabbed Tamara by the throat, squeezing hard. All Tamara did was stare at him, She stared right into his eyes, without so much as a hint of fear. "You shut the fuck up, slut," Xavier hatefully growled, speaking...and even drooling...through gritted teeth. "I am nobody's fucking dog, GOT THAT?? There's only so far Celeste can go with me, and YOU don't get to ask how far! YOU UNDERSTAND ME?? IT'S NONE OF YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS, YOU TWAT!!" After shoving her away from him, Xavier pulled a gun and fired a tranquilizer dart at her. The sedative quickly put her to sleep. Still furious over Tamara's admittedly accurate deductions, Xavier exited the car and hurried over to the driver side, re-entered the car, and rolled it back onto the freeway road. Pulling out his smartphone, he selected Celeste, and waited for her to pick up. "I have her," Xavier reported. "I'm on my way to the Fertility Clinic now."