The Barford Files - Chapters V And VI free porn video

V: Maid Men "O-kaaay, Trooper Cher," Pam began as the smartly-dressed woman stood in front of her daughter in the kitchen, who was still in the long, cat- faced white T-Shirt and black leggings she used as her nightclothes as she sat at the kitchen table, eating her morning waffles. "You're gonna be the majordomo over the house while your father and I are away. What I'd like you to do later this afternoon is to pick up a few things from Gourmandizer's, seeing as how I'll be way too busy to go there with your father, and...well, your father has this new job training thing he's going to. I left the shopping list and the money...which should also cover the cost for a cab for the ride home...on the freezer there." "When will you be back?" Charlene asked. "Late," Pam replied. "Got a full slate of activities beyond the taping we're doing today. Publicity stuff, mostly. They're really making a big deal out of this show. I'm shooting promos today, too, so after today, you can start watching out for them on TV." She moved in closer to Charlene to give her a kiss on her forehead. "Have a great day, sweetie! I know I will!" Pam then hurried towards the front door and disappeared behind it in seconds. Cameron had already left for his 'training', and her brother was still asleep in his room. It wasn't until Charlene heard the family car start up outside, and then roll out onto the street and away from the house, that the young woman rose up from her seat to place the syrup-stained plate into the sink. She then yawned, and lazily stretched out. She found it odd that her brother wasn't up early playing some kind of violent videogame, or running through a raid alongside his faceless friends. In fact, she didn't hear anything remotely resembling any kind of gaming in his room since the last 'raid' he was involved with. When they bunked together at the Park Place apartment, she often had to put up with listening to the incessant sounds of swords striking armor, or noisy magic spells being cast, and even worse, the sounds of many voices...often young ones...trying to coordinate their raid tactics. Occasionally, Stanley would speak out, but while there were times where she could tolerate the gaming cacophany, there were other occasions where she found it unbearably prudent to cover her ears with the pillow in an ultimately futile attempt to block out the relentless gaming racket. This morning, however, a good fifteen minutes passed in total silence. It really did feel like she had the house to herself. She felt relaxed for once. A knock at the front door brought this relaxing silence to an end, however. She figured it may have been her mother or her father, who might have forgotten something. But when the door opened, the smiling face of Barbara Walsh gazed back at her. In one of her hands was a shopping bag from what looked like a clothing store. "Good morning, dear," Barbara began. "How's the load-in going?" As she had only been around this voluptuous woman during the previous day's breakfast, she never had any direct confrontation. She was also a short distance from where Barbara was sitting at the kitchen table, so the effect of the midwife's pheromones was not as potent. This time, however, Charlene found herself staring, transfixed, at the suggestively-dressed woman, who wore a tight, short-sleeved orange top with a large, deep, cleavage-exposing scoop at her moist neck. Her large breasts, pressed together by the tightness of the dress, looked as if they could pop out at any moment. "Uhh...f-fine, I...I guess, yeah," Charlene managed to stammer out in response. Barbara reached a hand over to place it gently on Charlene's head, which did little to keep the younger girl from maintaining her stare. "May I come in, Charlene?" she then asked. As much as she tried to fight off her evident hesitation, the conflict resulted in the teenage girl responding with an uncertain silence. Barbara, however, took the initiative and stepped into the house, getting much closer to Charlene as she did so. "You have no reason to worry about me, sweetheart. I came by yesterday to welcome your family to the neighborhood, remember? Nod your head, dear." Charlene nodded slowly. She managed to blurt out the only sensible question she could pose in that moment, "W-why are you here? Mom and Dad...th-they aren't home." Barbara giggled at this. "I didn't come here to talk to them," She slowly guided Charlene into the Living Room. "I came here to talk to you. I need to see Stanley, too, but...I'm guessing he's still sleeping, so...that gives us a bit of time to talk girly stuff." Charlene frowned confusedly as she settled into the couch Barbara guided her down to. "Girly stuff?" "Well, I couldn't help but notice how uptight you seemed yesterday when we had breakfast," Barbara gently placed an arm around Charlene's shoulders as she spoke, leaning in close to her. "Barford...hell, even all of Bullchester...isn't as bad a place as you might believe. You should give it a chance." Barbara pulled her in closer, stroking at her hair with her other hand. "Yes. Give it a chance," she spoke softly, her lips close to Charlene's ear. "Give it a chance." Surprisingly, however, Charlene pulled away, as if coming out of a daze. She frowned as she spoke. "I hardly know anyone here!" "Well, duh! You just moved in," Barbara calmly rationalized, smiling. "Maybe if you spent a little more time at Rubie's Mall..." "Uh-huh," Charlene interjected warily as she nodded, smirking. "You mean, spend a little more time at that brain-bending Salon of yours." Barbara shook her head. "It's not my Salon, dear...and to be honest, I never went anywhere near that place. I work at the city's Fertility Clinic. I'm a midwife there. It's wonderful work, too, helping to bring new life into the world." "Yeah." Charlene maintained her defiant tone. "The Butterfly Salon could always use fresh new victims once they're old enough to fuck." "Charlene...you really have to throttle back on this paranoia of yours," Barbara remarked. "Is it too much to ask for an honest-to-goodness relationship with an actual guy??" Charlene asserted. "One that doesn't look like he could easily pass for a girl when he's in a woman's clothes??" "Have you thought about going to one of the city's nightspots to actually try and meet one, rather than hide away here in your happy little home all by yourself?" Barbara sharply shot back. "I might recommend 'Luck Be A'. It's the Mall's resident nightclub. Great place, too...but I imagine that with you being so terribly opposed to the Butterfly Salon that you wouldn't go anywhere near a club like that, would you? Last thing you would want is to get grabbed and dragged against your will to that nasty Dermis Machine, right? Well, I might suggest Cincher's as an alternative, but I fancy a place like that one would scare the piss out of you even more, wouldn't it? Given all the big, bad femmy boys that patronize the place." Charlene sighed irritably, hanging her head down. She couldn't argue with this logic, even though a part of her still wanted to. Barbara's rationale just seemed like a valid one. Charlene's resistance faltered a bit as a consequence. Barbara settled a hand on Charlene's shoulder. "What if I told you that you didn't have to go alone? I happen to know someone who may very well be willing to come with you if you go to the Mall's nightclub tonight...and I should remind you that you'll be totally safe, because she has never been to the Butterfly Salon either." Charlene frowned curiously. "Who?" "My daughter!" Barbara pleasantly replied. "Leanne's been curious about that club. Why don't you go with her later tonight? Make a few new friends. Maybe even meet...surprise, surprise...an actual guy who isn't wearing women's panties under his jeans." Charlene was still feeling cautious about the proposal, despite Barbara's apparent sincerity. "I-I don't know...maybe..." Once again, Barbara slipped an arm around Charlene, moving up close to her on the couch. "You're still stressed, dear. I can hear it in your voice." "Well, I can't really go out there right now, can I?" Charlene rationalized. "I mean...it kind of defeats the purpose of a nightclub if it's open in the morning." Barbara gently turned Charlene's head towards her with an index finger, drawing in closer to her face. The teenager, whose resistance to the busty woman's pheromones finally seemed to be crumbling, stared back at her. "But you'll go with Leanne and give the club a try later tonight...won't you?" Charlene trembled, losing herself to the allure of Barbara's scent. "You s...sssmell so...s..so niiice..." Barbara knew she had her by now. The pheromones had finally won Charlene over. She began rubbing a hand gently over her hair as she quietly and enticingly spoke, "You want to go." She lifted stray strands of Charlene's hair out of her eyes. "You won't be harmed. You'll be with Leanne. She's a very nice girl. Go on, Charlene. Tell me you want to go. Say it for me." "W..will you be there?" Charlene asked, fully lost to Barbara's allure. Barbara softly giggled at this. "I'm a very busy woman, sweetheart...but it would please me if you went with Leanne. She's my daughter. Think of her...as an extension of me," She cradled Charlene's chin in her hands. "Make me happy. Tell me you'll go tonight." "I...I'll go tonight." "I don't believe you," Barbara brought her face closer to Charlene's. "Tell me again." "I'll go tonight." Charlene nodded emphatically. She could hardly refuse by now. "I'll be there. I promise." Barbara smiled. "Good girl. I'm very happy, because I know you and Leanne will not be disappointed. You may even meet someone there, and all your concerns about Bullchester will go away. You'll see," The busty visitor pulled away, releasing Charlene. "Did your mom ask you to do anything for her today?" "Sh-shopping," Charlene stammered. "At Gourmandizer's." "Ahhh, perfect way to kill time." Barbara rose up from the couch. "You'd better go get cleaned up then. That place opens early. Best to get showered up, dressed up, and over there before it gets crowded," She then pulled her smartphone and held it up in front of her, engaging the camera function. She leveled Charlene's dazed face in the center of the shot box. "Smile for me, dear." Charlene flashed a nice smile, and Barbara snapped the picture. "There." Barbara stowed the smartphone. "Now she'll know what you look like." Still in a bit of a haze from her exposure to Barbara's pheromones, Charlene nodded slowly, still smiling. "Uh-huh." "I'll tell Leanne to meet you in front of the Hourglass shop," Barbara instructed. "She's a slim-figured redhead. I'll tell her to wear her glasses. From there, you can head over to the nightclub." "Uh-huh." Barbara grinned after a long moment passed. "You can't shower up by just sitting there." "Huh? Oh, right..." Charlene rose up from her seat and headed over to the stairs to the second floor. When Barbara confirmed that the initially reluctant and evasive teenager was behind the closed door of her room preparing herself for the shower, the busty visitor quickly and quietly slipped over to the stairs and headed up to the closed door of Stanley's room, grabbing her shopping bag before ascending the steps. By the time Charlene re-emerged from the door to her room with a clean, dry towel wrapped around her chest, Barbara had disappeared behind the door to her brother's room, taking the shopping bag with her. * * * Stanley's eyes opened to slits as he began to stir from his long sleep, feeling a gentle rubbing at his hair... ...but they widened when they saw what was in front of them. He found himself gazing upon the cleavage of a pair of large, moist- skinned breasts. An arm was hooked under one breast, while the hand cradled the other mammary. The thumb of that hand was quite alluringly rubbing around the top of the breast...northwest of the covered nipple...in a circle, consequentially causing both breasts to sway and jiggle fetchingly in front of his eyes. "Were you dreaming of these, dear?" He immediately recognized Barbara's voice as she quietly spoke. "Were you dreaming of seeing them jiggling before you? These big, milk-heavy mammaries, aching to be sucked?" Stanley's eyes remained transfixed upon the jiggling breasts as the thumb continued to rub around one of the soft, fleshy mounds, the digit pressing into and sliding along the moist skin as she rubbed. She was hovering over him, too, her legs straddling over his hips on the bed, propping herself up and over him with her free arm as she kept rubbing her thumb over the fleshy top of her right breast. In between the sight of the breast-rubbing, and the close-range scent of the busty woman's pheromones, Stanley was quite easily lost to Barbara's spell. Particularly for the fact that he was just waking up. It almost seemed like a wild erotic dream to his eyes, and a much more vivid one compared to his dreamless slumber. One that he not only could see, but hear, and smell, and touch, and even taste. For the moment, he was entirely overwhelmed. Barbara pulled her hand away from her breast and then, after hooking the arm around Stanley's back, pulled the crossdressed young man up from the covers that completely concealed what he was wearing. Making a mental note of the backless pink lycra dress he wore, she crushed her breasts against the fabric covering his own chest and brought her lips to his left ear as she held his trembling body in a soft embrace. "Are you hungry for mommy's milk, baby girl?" Barbara cooed into his ear as she pulled down the orange fabric partially covering her right breast, exposing the fat nipple. Already slack-jawed from the overwhelming effect of the busty woman's pheromones, Barbara was easily able to place Stanley's open mouth over her exposed and erect nipple. "Drink." Barbara gently rubbed a hand through Stanley's soft, shoulder- length hair as she gently spoke, "Suck upon the nipple until the milk flows, baby girl." Barbara could feel his mouth tighten around her nipple to the point where she felt suction there. The midwife began to pant from the pleasurable sensations running through her own body as Stanley kept sucking at her nipple. Goddess... Barbara mused to herself. ...this always feels so fucking incredible... The milk began flowing in the next moment, and a drop of it began to run down the corner of Stanley's mouth as he kept drinking, and Barbara kept panting euphorically. "Yyyesss...ohhh, y-yyyeeeesss...drink...d- driinnnk...good g-girrl..." After a long moment of lingering ecstacy, Barbara pulled Stanley's mouth away from the still-dripping nipple, holding his sweaty head in both of her hands as they both panted in their mutual exhaustion. Excess milk dribbled from his open mouth. "Ohhh, Stanley...you made me feel so wonderful," Barbara purred as she stroked at his damp hair. She feigned surprise when she looked down at his lycra dress. "Oooooh, Stanley...are you a crossdresser? That's such a nice-looking little dress you're wearing. Women's clothes must excite you, doesn't it?" Totally compliant by way of Barbara's pheromones, Stanley nodded slowly. "Ohhh, yes..." Barbara cooed. "...you must really want to be a girl, don't you? You dirty bitch. You're such a naughty little girl. Hairless body, backless dress...I bet your panties are wet too, aren't they?" Barbara reached down to the skirt area of his dress and began to pull it up along Stanley's hairless body. The friction at his very sensitive and perky nipples caused him to gasp sharply. She was nevertheless able to pull the collarpiece up and over his head, leaving the enraptured young man totally naked save for his moist candy cane-design panties which now tried to cover a smaller-looking, but nevertheless erect penis. "Ooooh, look at those cute little titties of yours." Barbara rubbed around the puffy flesh that surrounded Stanley's more prominent nipples. She then brought a hand up to cover the young man's eyes. "Close your eyes, you naughty bitch...and don't open them until I tell you to." When Barbara pulled her hand away, Stanley's eyes were closed. Smiling, the midwife brought her lips to one of his perky nipples, and opened her mouth. At the same time, she reached behind her dress to the pockets where two disposable Tear Duct injection units were being hidden. As she began sucking upon one of Stanley's nipples, she positioned the Tear Ducts in each of her hands at the skin beneath both of his larger teats. Stanley, whose eyes remained closed, began panting heavily as Barbara began to suck upon the nipple. His body quaked with the incredible sensations he was feeling as the gentle sucking continued. Barbara gradually inserted the needle ends of the Tear Ducts into the breast skin, pressing upon the plastic containing the milk white Project Heifer formula extracts. The liquid slipped through the needles and into Stanley's bloodstream. The needles caused Stanley to wince, despite the injections being about as painful as a mere finger-pinching of his flesh. Once the Tear Ducts had been drained of their formula capacities, Barbara slipped the spent Tear Ducts back into her pockets. Fortunately, Stanley's eyes remained shut. Even when he felt the needles puncture his skin. One of Barbara's hands went back to the young man's head, giving his longer hair a tender rubbing. "You can open your eyes now, sweetie." The young man's eyelids parted once again, his eyes open wide as he kept his gaze on Barbara's lasciviously smiling face. She kept rubbing at his head as if he were a pet. "Sooooo...about your crossdressing..." Barbara mused. "...I noticed you had your bedsheets up over you, right up to your neck. You don't want anyone to know you wear women's clothes, do you?" Lowering his head a bit, he shook his head. "That's OK, honey. No one other than you and me has to know," Placing a finger under his chin, she lifted his head back up. "It'll be our little secret." Barbara's hand went back to stroke at his longer, softer hair. The way Stanley was looking at her certainly reminded her of a dog staring lovingly at his master. "Be honest, now...do you enjoy wearing that backless pink dress?" Barbara then asked, "Does it make you feel good to wear it?" Stanley nodded. "Yes." Barbara brought her lips close to Stanley's right ear, speaking softly. "Would you like to wear some more girl dresses? Hmmm? Maybe more...revealing ones?" Still staring at the big-breasted midwife, Stanley slowly nodded, his mouth agape as Barbara continued to caress his hair. "Mmmm, yes, you do, don't you?" She pulled him in, and placed his face between the exposed mammaries, rubbing them against both sides of his face. "I bet you wish you had big boobs like mine...don't you, you dirty little bitch?" Barbara then offered the nipple of her other breast, holding it in front of his mouth. "Go on. Drink some more." Once again, Stanley obliged, placing his mouth around Barbara's areolae before beginning to suck upon the offered nipple. Barbara was told that once the Heifer subject had been given the injection, the first drop of breast milk was all that was needed to implement the addiction that would follow. When Barbara's milk began to flow once more, she could tell that Stanley's addiction had quickly set in, as his sucking became more intense. He began moaning as he drank. His hands wrapped around Barbara tightly as he drew as much milk as he could from Barbara's breast. The busty midwife also moaned, passionately, as the young man drank greedily from her soft, fleshy mound. She kept her moaning as quiet as possible, so as not to draw the attention of Charlene, who she imagined had finished her shower by now, and was likely preparing to leave for the supermarket. When Stanley's sucking began to feel a touch painful, Barbara pulled him off of the nipple. It proved a bit difficult at first, given his obvious need. "That's enough now, dear." The young man gazed up to Barbara like a yearning puppy. A stray drop of milk ran down one corner of his lips. "More...please..." "If you want more, you're going to have to go out and get some from the supermarket," Barbara amusedly advised. "Unless, of course, you have some in your refrigerator right now." "Ummm...I..." She could already see Stanley behaving in a somewhat effeminate manner as he brought a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "...I-I don't...know...I have to look." "Well, I can't feed you anymore, sweetie. You've practically drained me dry," Barbara moved to settle her butt upon the bed, pulling Stanley in front of her as she spoke. "For now, I'll tell you what you're going to do. You're going to go wash that dress, and those panties. Once you're done, I want you to get into your boy clothes and come out to Rubie's Mall. I'll meet you there, and then you and I can do a little shopping for more dresses and panties for you to wear when you're alone in your room." Stanley nodded. "Okay." Barbara shook her head, smiling deviously. "I'd rather you start saying 'Yes, Miss Walsh'. After everything I've done to make you happy, I think I deserve to hear that every time you acknowledge me." Stanley blushed. "Y-yes, Miss Walsh." Barbara heard the front door open, and then close, clearly indicative of Charlene's departure. "Now let's get that wash started. As you wait, you can go into your sister's room and surprise her with a freshly-cleaned room when she returns. One just as clean as yours is." She glanced at the bed, and then gestured to it. "Well...except for that." Realizing what she meant, Stanley immediately moved to straighten up his own bed, pulling off the bedsheets and the pillowcase for the sake of putting it in the wash with his own dirty clothing. Once it was all in a pile, Barbara grabbed Stanley's arm. "So you're going to clean things up in the nude?" Barbara amusedly asked. "That won't do. That's why I got something for you. Put that bundle on the bed, and stay put." Barbara reached into the shopping bag she brought into the room with her, and pulled out a large box. Lifting the lid off, the busty midwife pulled out a bundle of black and white clothing. "You're going to wear this every time you need to clean up around the house," Barbara explained as she handed the bundle to Stanley. She then pulled out a pair of pink panties and dropped it on top of the bundle. "Now go ahead and put this uniform on." Once Stanley slipped the panties on over his hairless legs and positioned them around his crotch area, he saw that they did a slightly better job at covering his privates. Opening up the black and white garment revealed a uniform in two parts: a black dress with a skirt and puffy sleeves, and a white apron. The black dress piece had to go on him first. Reaching behind him, he pulled up the zipper to allow the dress to form a snug fit on his hairless body. Putting his head through the top loop of the frilly white apron, he tied the piece around his waist. Barbara then pulled another box out of the shopping bag and opened it up. This one was smaller, and it looked like a box containing footwear. Out came a pair of very feminine-looking slippers, which she dropped on the floor in front of Stanley. One last, longer box was pulled from Barbara's shopping bag, and opening this box up revealed a pair of elbow-length, black latex gloves, which she had Stanley slip onto his arms. Barbara also pulled another element of the uniform from the box that contained it...this one a small white piece...and placed it on his head. Turning Stanley to face his bedroom's mirror, he saw that he was wearing the full uniform of a maid. He stared at his reflection for a long moment, stepping closer to the mirror as he did. He was strangely enraptured by the sight of him wearing the uniform. His thoughts were a mixture of confusion, and excitement. Barbara stepped behind him as he continued to stare at himself. "That uniform looks very good on you, sweetie. A perfect fit, too. Now...are you going to be a busy little maid for your family until your father comes back?" "Yes, Miss Walsh," Stanley replied. Barbara nodded. "Get to work, then." She handed Stanley the mound of dirty bedsheets and garments. "Start with this. Head down into your basement and get the washer started. Once that's done, come back up and start cleaning your sister's room." "Yes, Miss Walsh," he obediently answered. Once Stanley had begun descending the stairs going down to the basement, Barbara stepped into the Living Room and turned on the large flatscreen TV there, switching to a cable channel where reruns of old, classic comedies like I Love Lucy and The Honeymooners could be seen. Settling into the Living Room's easy chair, she started watching an episode of The Mary Tyler Moore Show. As she watched, she began to think about what kinds of clothes she would want Stanley to buy when it came time for them to go to the Mall. Obviously, he needed to have things to show off the massive cleavage he would most assuredly develop. * * * After the bus quite conveniently dropped her off in front of Gourmandizer's, Charlene glanced over the impressive size of this particular supermarket. It was certainly larger than any supermarket she had seen in New York on the outside. It seemed that just about everyone going into the shopping center was subjected to being approached by a small group of fully-uniformed nuns, who were stepping over to as many incoming shoppers as possible and handing out pamphlets. As Charlene, like her other family members, was not terribly religious, she simply shook her head and denied the pamphlet. She did get a glance at the cover of the pamphlet, though. Apparently, the local religion had something to do with "The Sacred Feminine". This got her wondering, as she went through the building's sliding doors with a shopping cart in front of her, if the Bullchester conspiracy had its basis in yet another man-made...or in this case, woman-made...religious belief. She had to respect this particular religion, however, for counteracting the more popular Christian motif. As she began rolling the cart through the shopping lanes of the large supermarket, she heard a feminine voice speaking to a dark-skinned couple about the Sacred Feminine religion. The woman in question had a head of shoulder-length red hair, and she was dressed quite conservatively in a pretty-looking, skirted outfit. What she learned from overhearing the woman's explanations was that the religion seemed to stem from the belief that John the Baptist was the first transsexual, which Charlene surmised was the result of one particular painting she remembered seeing of the Baptist which made him look a bit feminine in appearance. It was through one of Charlene's friends from New York...Lorna Jessup, who was a devout Christian...that she came to know of this particular image. Lorna had dismissed it as nothing more than a stylistic art choice rather than an accurate caricature of John. Charlene tried to be inconspicuous in her attempt to overhear the red- haired woman's explanations, but she gave the teenager a quick glance during her eavesdropping, forcing her to hurry away from the trio as the redhead continued speaking. She was in the midst of reaching for a bag of Fritos a few minutes later when a feminine hand grasped her wrist just as her fingers came into contact with the bag. Turning her head towards the woman who had stopped her, she found herself staring into the eyes of the very redhead who she had eavesdropped on. "That much salt is not good for your heart, dear," the redhead remarked, sounding too much like a spokeswoman in a public service ad. "A figure like yours shouldn't be gaining any excess weight." Charlene's tone was sharp in her reply. "Please let go of my wrist." After a tense moment of silence, the redhead released the teenager's wrist. "I'd rather be the judge of what I eat, and what I don't, thank you," Charlene noted as she rubbed her wrist. The conservatively-dressed woman raised her hands up in restraint. "Forgive me. Seems I was about as curious about your dietary habits as you obviously were for our spiritual calling." Touche'. Charlene thought to herself. She couldn't help but blush. "I-I was just shopping." "And listening in," the redhead added, stepping a little closer to Charlene. "I know a curious glance when I see one, dear. The Sacred Feminine is nothing to be afraid of." She then brought a hand up to appraisingly rub against the side of Charlene's chin. "Especially if you happen to have such a naturally divine appearance." Charlene rolled her eyes. "Pffft. There's nothing divine about me at all." "I beg to differ. If anyone knows divinity best, it's our Sisterhood." The redhead offered a hand. "Gemma Schultz. It's nice to meet you, Charlene." The teenager blinked in her surprise, her expression now wary. "How do you know my name?" Gemma shrugged, smiling meekly. "Wild guess?" Gemma's gaze was thoughtful as it lingered on Charlene's face and hair. She was reminded of the way her own head of red hair looked when she briefly served as the maid of Irene Moore, the Principal of Feetham's. "Well...I hardly know you, and I get a little freaked out by people who..." "You have nothing to be afraid of, dear." Gemma settled her hands gently on Charlene's shoulders. "All we ever ask of anyone...and I do mean ask, not tell...is that they permit us the humility of attending a single service, at your convenience, on a Sunday morning. You can find out more than I could ever tell you here about our calling." Charlene remained wary. "I'm penniless. If you're expecting donations from me..." Gemma giggled. "No, not at all, dear. The only thing we ever ask for is your curiosity...and to be honest, you've already given us that, haven't you?" As much as Charlene wanted to deny it, she couldn't. Not without being called on her lie. "One visit. That's all we ask," Gemma offered. "The invitation will always be open. Even if you honor it days, weeks, or years from now." "I...I'll think about it," Charlene responded. Gemma then traced her two index fingers around the outer edges of Charlene's face, forming the shape of a heart. "Sisters..." She then rubbed the tip of her index finger over the center of the teenager's lips. "...stick..." Gemma grabbed both of her wrists and brought her hands together in front of her, as if in prayer. "...together." Gemma then planted a kiss upon Charlene's forehead. Slipping around behind the mystified teen, she whispered right into her left ear. "Don't disappoint me." Still perplexed by Gemma's words and actions, Charlene found that she still had her hands pressed together in prayer. Blushing, she brought them back down, ignoring curious eyes that were glancing her way. Among the curious ones was an attractively voluptuous and busty woman wearing a one-piece black dress. In an attempt to restore focus to her shopping trip, she began looking around the vegetable cans, even though they were not on her shopping list. Her peripheral vision caught sight of the woman in the black dress heading her way on the other side of the aisle. She, too, seemed to be scanning for groceries without actually picking out things. "What'cha lookin' for?" Charlene heard the woman behind her pleasantly ask. The teenager sighed aloud, clearly irritated. "Can't a girl shop in fucking peace??" "Whoa, relax. Sorry." The woman lifted her hands up in restraint. "Just trying to help is all." As the woman began rolling her cart away from Charlene, looking hurt, the teenager called out to her, feeling a bit ashamed herself. "Hey..." She hurried over to the woman. "...look, I...I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just had a run-in with a really weird lady." "I know." The woman grinned. "I saw the whole thing. Gemma tried to make a convert of you too, didn't she?" Charlene nodded. "Is that her usual...thing...here?" The woman now giggled in amusement. "Pretty much. It's not like she's a supermarket employee, but given the Sisterhood's near-constant presence here, it wouldn't surprise me if they had a hand in the running of this place." "So...this place is like a trap or something?" Charlene asked. Again, the woman giggled. "Good thing you're asking me that question. If I were a member of the Sisterhood? They'd deny it all over the place..." She then stepped closer to Charlene, her tone now a little more serious. "...but this isn't the place to have that kind of discussion openly. If you really want to talk about the more cloak-and-dagger aspects of Bullchester, we have to agree to meet someplace that's...relatively safe." "Okaaaay." Charlene played along, if only to find out anything a bit more substantial from this woman about the city. "Define someplace that's relatively safe." "Hmmm..." The busty woman contemplated how she was to reveal this. "...can you trust me with your smartphone number? I'll give you mine." "You first," Charlene warily remarked. The woman went into her pocketbook and pulled out a business card, which she handed to the cautious teenager. TAMARA PORTNOY Secretary The woman's smartphone number was on the lower right hand side of the card. "I work for an attorney named Lawrence Hanel. Great guy. You'd like him." Charlene's eyes widened. "An actual guy?? How old is he?" Tamara laughed once again. "He's an older man. He's married, too, and yes...believe it or not, he's a man. He doesn't wear women's underwear, though, if that's what you might be thinking." Charlene nodded. "Okay, well...I'll text you when I'm ready to talk about stuff." Tamara nodded back. "I hope to hear from you soon, then. Until then, watch yourself...and don't feel too ashamed to be as cautious as you are. It may mean the difference between being yourself...and becoming someone else." With that, Tamara rolled her shopping cart in the opposite direction, leaving Charlene to ponder the busty woman's unsettling words. Becoming...someone else? Charlene thought to herself as she continued shopping. Did I hear that right? * * * Although Cameron was certainly arguing with himself the entire time during his journey to the address that 'Mrs. Moore' had given him. A part of him wanted to turn away and take a more rebellious stance, but he knew that this Moore woman would proceed to ruin his life as a consequence. He began to regret the entire blackmail scheme. Even moreso for the fact that it led to an unexpected suicide. He wanted to just take the money and run. Obviously, karma inflicted otherwise. And so, there he was, down on the ground in front of the front door to the large estate that Mrs. Moore lived in, with his balding head bowed. He had already rang the doorbell. It was only a matter of waiting now. This is so, so embarrassing. Cameron thought to himself. I'm a grown man with a family, and here I am, groveling on the ground in front of a woman I hardly know who's blackmailing me. He heard the door open, and the black, high-heeled boots of a woman stepped in front of him. A strangely inviting scent filled his nostrils as a silent moment passed. "You must be Cameron," a strong and authoritative female voice remarked. "I hope you realize that you're going to be spending more than a day's time here with me. You won't be learning everything overnight." Cameron was quiet when he heard this. A part of him actually dreaded this possibility. "First thing's first. Whenever you stand in front of me, I will expect your legs to be together, with both hands behind you," Irene explained. "The palm of one hand will be against the back of the other hand, and you will not move from that position of attention until you are given instructions. Understood?" "Yes, Mrs. Moore, Ma'am," Cameron replied. "I certainly can't train you while you're groveling in front of me like that," Irene mused. "On your feet. Assume the position now." Being an older man, rising to his feet proved a little more difficult than it was in his younger years, but he still managed to rise up and position himself as Irene had specified. Memories of his time spent in the army at a non-combat post filled his mind as he stood at rigid attention before the busty, silver-haired woman standing in front of him, wearing a sleeveless, all-lavender outfit. Putting himself in the mindset of being in front of his Drill Sergeant during basic training did help, although he was frequently the target of a withering barrage of taunts and insults from his Drill Instructors in that time, and always over the most minor issues. Irene Moore's more velvety and alluring voice, stern and strong as it currently sounded, was certainly preferable by comparison. Despite this, he just continued to stare forward. Irene paced around him slowly, practically scanning every inch of him as she moved. "I hope you're ready to do exactly what I tell you, Cameron. I hope you're ready to wear what I want you to wear without any kind of protest, eat what I want you to eat, drink what I want you to drink. Any failure will be met with severe consequences, and I promise you that the punishments will be quite harsh," She brought her face very close to his. "I wonder if you had ever been as humbled...at any time in your life thus far...as you're going to be these next few days, Cameron." Cameron just continued to stare forward, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. I sure as fuck hope this is all going to be worth it. He thought to himself. Irene then turned around...and stood still in front of her own front door, which she had closed behind her. Not one word emerged from her mouth as she quietly stood there. She then began to impatiently tap her foot. What the hell is she waiting fo...the door? He wondered to himself. She wants me to...? Cameron hurried to the door and opened it, stepping in to give Irene enough room to pass him. Sure enough, she stepped inside. Once Irene had cleared the door, Cameron closed it. When he turned back to Irene, she was glaring right into his eyes with a very intimidating stare. "If I wind up getting a cold from being outside in the chilly air because you took so long to realize why I was just standing there, I'm going to make sure that your lessons become much more...painful. For now, I want you to strip down. Take everything off. Your clothes, your shoes, socks, even your underwear. I want you completely naked. This is what you get for being so slow to figure out why I was just standing there longer than I should have." Blushing deeply, Cameron began removing his clothes a piece at a time. His tan-colored polo T-Shirt, his black slacks, his white socks, his black shoes...they all came off, followed by his tank-top undershirt, and his boxer shorts. He had tossed them into a misshapen pile of clothing as he did so. Looking at the entirely unkempt mound of clothing, Irene shook her head. "Unbelievable. No skill whatsoever, but I suppose that's why you're here," She then fired an index finger down at his pile of clothing. "Fold it. Take each piece of clothing and fold it neatly. I don't care if they're dirty or not." "Yes, Mrs. Moore, Ma'am." He then spent the next three minutes rearranging his own clothing into a more neatly-folded bundle, and then returned to Irene at the position of attention that she had requested. He felt a shudder run through his body from a cold breeze that cascaded over him as he stood there. "Good," Irene remarked. "Now...do you expect that bundle of clothing to jump into my arms on its own? Give it to me." Bending down to pick the bundle of his own clothing up, shoes and all, he handed the folded garments to Irene, and then returned to his attentive position. "There. That's better. Goddess, you're actually developing a brain," Irene mused. "Now let's review what you've learned since we began chatting with one another. Repeat three words that should be on your mind right now." Cameron blinked confusedly for a moment before realizing what three words she was referring to. They were the three words she had burned into his mind the last time they were in Speakabout chat. "Shopping. Cleaning. Cooking." "And it is these three things that I will expect you to do for me while you are here, Cameron," Irene informed. "Morning, noon, and night. One shower every morning, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When you're not working, or whenever the house is completely clean, you will be reading up on recipes. You will not only be cooking meals for yourself, but for me as well. At the moment, the house is fully stocked, but you will be expected to shop for anything we need from now on. I hope, by that time, you will have earned the right to wear clothes again." A much more nervous look was now on Cameron's face. So I'm going to be NAKED from now on? He griped to himself. This is starting to become more than I'll be able to tolerate! "Follow along, now," Irene instructed. Despite feeling incredibly embarrassed to be walking around without any clothes on, he nevertheless complied. He began to suspect, however, that there would come a time...very soon...when he would need to bring this so-called 'training' to an abrupt end. When Irene would cross the line, and Cameron would forcibly turn the tables on his blackmailer. If he would not be permitted to wear clothes by lunchtime, he surmised to himself, then perhaps that would be the last straw, so to speak. Irene took him through a lavish Living Room and into a very nice-looking Boudoir. The busty woman immediately went to a large Vanity and picked up what looked like an old-school perfume bottle, this one filled with a greenish-gold liquid. The glass bottle was of the squeeze-spray variety. Irene spent a moment in quiet thought before turning back to Cameron. "What do you think, Cameron?" Irene asked. "Do you think you would smell better wearing this?" Before the man could reply, Irene misted a generous amount of the perfume scent into Cameron's face. The scent was so strong and so overpowering that he began coughing heavily. It was difficult for him to breathe...and even to think...as his skin absorbed what had been sprayed onto him. Although the scent was as effeminately sweet as any perfume, there was certainly more to what had been sprayed into his face than he would ever suspect. Upon receipt of the gene-matched formula within the spray bottle, Cameron's notion of impending rebellion began to deteriorate. His thoughts had become a jumbled-up mess all of a sudden, even as he literally tried to shake his head to restore clear thought. What the hell did that bitch just...ju...can't...think...ca...what th... Irene cleared her throat loudly as she glared at Cameron, who now looked entirely confused. "You should be assuming the position, Cammy. Don't...make...me...wait." Cameron had stopped wheezing and coughing by now, and his blurry eyesight sharpened once again. His mind, however, was still a bit of a mess. Nevertheless, he still recognized the necessity of assuming Irene's preferred position of attention, and he quickly complied. Irene stepped right up to him, staring right into his eyes as she gestured to her own face. "Every time you see my face from now on, you will be as obedient and as compliant as possible, remembering everything I have taught you, and ONLY anything I have taught you, and you will never deny any requests I ask of you. Is that clear, Cammy?" Obedient...yes... As his mind had been so wildly jarred by the perfume spray to become much more susceptible to suggestion, it became easier for Cameron to absorb and understand Irene's words. His head slowly nodded. "Y-yes, Mrs. Moore, Ma'am." "Now...since we're a few hours away from lunchtime, your first assignment will be to go through the cookbook I give you, and pick two meals. One for yourself, and one for me. I will have my meal bookmarked, and you will pick out a calorie-heavy meal. That is what I want you to think about whenever you eat. Calories. Nothing but calories for yourself. An hour before lunchtime, I will expect you to begin cooking both meals. Are we clear?" Right. Food. His thoughts wrapped around the instructions. Learn t...to cook. Yes... "Yes, Mrs. Moore, Ma'am." "And you will find that cooking is one of the three things in life that make you very happy," Irene noted, smiling as she altered her tone to become a little more pleasant. "Fills you with pleasant thoughts. Makes you feel...chipper. The cookbooks I mentioned are in the kitchen. Shall we go there now, Cammy?" I...I can't wait...to see those cookbooks! "Yes, Mrs. Moore, Ma'am! That would be swell!" Irene placed a hand on Cameron's bare shoulder. "And what are those two other things in your life that make you happy?" "Cleaning and Shopping, Mrs. Moore, Ma'am," Cameron replied. Irene nodded. "Very good, Cammy. Now...follow me to the kitchen so you can get started." A devious smile was now on Irene's face as she turned away from Cameron and began her approach to the kitchen, which had been set up in advance for her newest subject's arrival. The plan was already set for the kind of person Cameron Merrywether was to become. Someone older. Someone heavy-set in figure. Someone inescapably...sweet-natured. VI: Dressed to Thrill CUE JAZZ MUSIC SUPER: Welcome to... The MERRY WEATHER Show! with Pam Merryweather! CUE APPLAUSE SIGN ANNOUNCER V.O. And now, LIVE, from the brand new studios at Rubie's Mall, right here in beautiful Bullchester... it's the Merry Weather Show, where the weather is always at its merriest! CUT TO AUDIENCE APPLAUSE CUT TO HOME STAGE ANNOUNCER V.O. Here's your hostess... Pam Merryweather! CUT BETWEEN PAM ACKNOWLEDGING THE AUDIENCE AND AUDIENCE APPLAUSE PAM Good morning, everyone, and welcome to my home. Step in and stay awhile! I just finished brewing a fresh pot of coffee, courtesy of our new friends at Bean Counters, consistently voted as the best and the most rich-tasting coffee in all of Bullchester. Can I get a Hell Yes if you all agree? CUT TO AUDIENCE YELLING 'HELL YES' CUT BACK TO PAM PAM Oooh! Don't all respond at once now! CUT TO AUDIENCE MEMBER LAUGHING CUT BACK TO PAM HOLDING COFFEE MUG PAM So usually, when one pours her first cup of coffee in the morning, it's usually accompanied by a reading of the morning newspaper. Well, put that paper down, ladies, because I have your local headlines right here! SUPER: WHAT'S NEWS IN BULLCHESTER PAM Does anyone remember that scandal? With Loris International, and the Human Trafficking ring that was put down? According to Loris Spokesperson Brianne Parker, a visiting photographer is actually trying to re-open that can of worms! CUT TO AUDIENCE REACTIONS PAM Yeah, good luck with that, Mr. Eberhardt... Loris representatives are working with the Mayoress to get to the bottom of this, and they expect to have the situation handled by the week's end. In other local news...oh! Well, go figure! The premiere of 'The Merry Weather Show' is in progress on BCN this very morning! Talk about a show within a show, eh? CUE LAUGHTER SIGN PAM Aaaaand what else...ah yes. It's DNAbler week at the Butterfly Salon! Submit your blood type all this week, and get the beauty treatment of your choice absolutely free! Not bad, right? Give blood going in, come out with a new set of Double-D Cups! CUE LAUGHTER SIGN PAM More news from Loris... it seems that the impact of those 50's pin-up girl photos featuring the model known only as 'Tamara' has apparently been measured by the company, and...well, don't be surprised if we see similarly- styled models gracing the Loris advertisements in the near future! Loris figurehead Rita Noble herself has vowed to 'personally put Tamara herself on the company payroll in the very near future'. That's a direct quote, too...and I'm sure you'll be hearing music from the 'Grease' soundtrack to go with those ads. Probably the movie version, too... ech! I prefer the play! Flying cars, my exhibit-A! And this is a big ass, too! CUE LAUGHTER SIGN PAM Okay! When we come back after this commercial message, it's the Cooking School section of our program, so that's a heads-up to all you bored housewives out there! Today, I'll be taking you through the ancient art that I call the Perfect Quiche! Don't you dare reach for that remote! CUE APPLAUSE SIGN ANNOUNCER V.O. Coming up...Pam is your guide to the Perfect Quiche! Then...Pam opens the door to her first very special houseguest, Selena Gomez! CUT TO COMMERCIAL * * * It felt strange for Leanne Walsh to be wearing her glasses again after her eyesight had so mysteriously improved, but according to Barbara, it was supposed to help the girl she was going to meet...a girl named Charlene...to identify her. As Barbara...her second mother, effectively, since her father's gender- change...had sent a recent photo of Charlene which Leanne had committed to memory, she figured it would be easier for her to separate that particular teenager from the rest of the mall crowds. Leanne had, what she felt, was an interesting point of conversation to break the ice with, as well. After a few more minutes of waiting, the bespectacled teen finally spotted Charlene making her way towards Hourglass with a cautious expression on her face. She was constantly looking around her. Her nervousness was clearly evident. "Charlene!" Leanne called out as she waved her arm above her, smiling. She called out her name again, this time a little louder. Finally, Charlene's wandering eyes fell upon Leanne's waving, smiling figure, and the cautious teenager's eyes widened as she closed in on where Barbara Walsh's daughter was standing. "Hi, sorry..." Charlene reached out to shake Leanne's extended hand. "...this place is...well, it's pretty big." "Biggest shopping center in Bullchester," Leanne responded. "It's nice to meet you, Charlene." "Likewise," Charlene answered, still giving cautious looks around her area. "If I look a little distant today, it's only because I saw this really, really interesting movie last night on BCN," Leanne led Charlene over to a bench near the Hourglass store, which the two young ladies settled onto. "Old film from 1977. The Island of Doctor Moreau. It's about a guy who survives a shipwreck and goes to an island where a doctor is experimenting on animals, trying to turn them into human beings because he wants to be able to exploit cellular transformation to benefit humankind." "Don't you think that's a violation of natural law, though?" Charlene wondered aloud. "Like Moreau himself said, 'the possibilities are endless'," Leanne replied. "Gotta love Burt Lancaster. Great actor. That whole movie was so much better than that garbage remake in '96. One of Burt's lines just stuck with me..." Leanne stared forward as she fondly recollected the line. "'It's amazing how the flesh re-asserts itself'," She turned her head back to Charlene. "Heh...I should make that a personal catch- phrase." Charlene frowned. "You're into that kind of thing? Scientific...gene stuff?" Leanne nodded. "I'm taking classes at Feetham's, and I'm learning some really amazing stuff. You'd be surprised at the kinds of things you can accomplish if you knew what genetic keys to twist, Charlene." Charlene looked skeptical. "There's only so far you can go with that kind of research before it becomes a problem, Leanne." Leanne shrugged. "They also said we couldn't put a man on the moon. They said the Berlin wall would never come down, and they said the Titanic was unsinkable. So much for those bullshit theories," Her tone turned a bit more serious. "It's quite frankly insulting to limit yourself to such simplistic dismissals. Science always finds a way around them, if you know how, Charlene. There are things I could show you right now, with the right materials, that would make a believer out of you." Charlene raised an eyebrow amusedly. "Gonna blind me with science, eh?" Knowing the reference to the popular Thomas Dolby song, Leanne grabbed Charlene's shoulders melodramatically, speaking with a faux british accent, "I could make you beautiful, Miss Sakamoto!" Although Charlene did giggle at this, Leanne laughed aloud as she released her new friend. "SCIENCE!" they yelled in unison. "Seems we have the same good taste in music, at least," Leanne amusedly observed. She then rose to her feet. "Sooo...did you want to go shopping for a dress? We could go into Hourglass if you want. Still a couple of hours left before they close." Charlene's defenses went back up at this suggestion. "Uh, I...I don't know..." "What if I told you it was my treat?" Leanne then suggested. "First dress is on me. You won't have to pay a cent." The cautious teenager's eyes widened at this. "Really?? I've seen some of those price tags. Some of these dresses are really fucking expensive!" Leanne shrugged again. "I can afford it. Won't even break my bank. Trust me. Besides...I wanna pick out something I think you'd look nice in." Of course, the reality of the proposal was in the envelope funds Barbara had acquired from Stanley when he attempted his bank run. The money Leanne had been given came straight from this stash, and it would be more than enough to cover one of the store's most expensive dresses. Having been told about the situation with the Merrywethers through Barbara, it was actually Leanne's idea to treat Charlene to a dress despite how radical Barbara believed Charlene would find the notion. Factoring into Leanne's idea was the resident music in the mall, which was pleasant enough to make the shoppers a little more compliant when pressed with an offer. "Well..." Charlene paused a moment to rub her eyes in response to the considerably saccharine nature of the ambient music the mall's sound system played. "...if you really want to be that generous...but I have a few dresses of my own. I was thinking of..." "You can show me your own dresses the next time we go." Leanne gently gripped Charlene's arm and pulled her into the store. "Tonight, I want to be the one to dress you up. I want you to look like you belong in that nightclub. Put your trust in me." Before Charlene could utter a word of protest, Leanne had called over a saleswoman working at the boutique and they were already debating styles, and even coiffures and makeup, upon glancing between themselves and the mystified teenager, who was gazing around at the many dresses in her section. By their very appearance, they looked as if someone could lose half of an entire week's pay just on one dress alone. Charlene did notice that a lot of them had provocative designs. There were more conservative sections of the store, but Leanne had dragged her away from those areas to the unseen sections of the boutique. The areas one could not see by looking through the front window. Every time Charlene tried to get a word in on the debating, Leanne's answer was always the same. "Ah-ah! Put your trust in me." The sweetly benign music seemed to add to Charlene's hesitance to be a little more assertive. She did respond to requests for her to stand so that various dresses could be placed against her body, but she found it pointless to argue a personal opinion, as she had placed her trust in Leanne. Lyrics to a song played in their section with the ambient music frequently mentioned the words 'good taste' as the dress-matching continued. Six dresses had been examined thus far. Scanning the dresses that had been picked, a slight smile crept onto her lips. Mmm...she does have...good taste... Unconsciously, her right foot began tapping to the gentle beat of the music. "Charlene?" Leanne placed a hand on her shoulder. "We're going to the changing room now. Go in, find a booth..." She pulled up one of Charlene's arms and draped a thin, stretchy red garment over it. "...and try this dress on." Following Leanne to the changing rooms, Charlene went in and looked for an empty booth. Finding one, she stepped in and closed the door behind her. Getting a better look at the dress, it seemed to have an odd design. There were cucumber-shaped holes on one side, and an unusually large hole where the collar should be. The material felt like thin and stretchy, yet unusually firm lycra. Removing her pale green turtleneck sweater and her faded blue jeans, she slipped on the lycra dress as carefully as she could, guessing at the manner in which the dress should be worn in so doing. Pulling the dress down over her white bra and panties, she saw the row of cucumber-shaped holes were on the side beneath her left armpit, and the loose lycra fabric beneath the waist was cut, diagonally, to a point just above her right ankle. The large hole with the missing collar area turned out to be a deliberate exposure of her right shoulder, with the fabric running beneath her right armpit. The dress made her bra look out of place. Like it should not be there. Curiously, she carefully pulled off the dress and unfastened her bra, and then slipped the dress back on, seeing as how the dress itself was thick enough to hide her breasts effectively. The dress looked much better to her now, and it seemed her trust in Leanne was well-placed as she looked at herself in the stall's mirror. It was an amazingly snug fit. Given a better hairstyle, Charlene figured that with a dress like this, she could indeed turn some heads. Curiously, however, she looked at the price tag. $849.99?? Charlene's eyes widened in tandem with her thoughts. Does this Leanne girl have money to burn or something?? Quickly coming out of the stall, and then out of the door to the changing room, Leanne rose to her feet as Charlene spoke. "Do you realize how expensive this..." "WOW. I knew you'd look hot in that dress," Leanne interjected, smiling. Two other girls in the store also redirected their gazes at Charlene, and stepped over in visible astonishment. "Ooooh, Goddess...Nicola, look at that! That's the dress I was telling you about," The pink-clad blonde with the trio gushed. Nicola, a short-haired platinum blonde wearing a fashionably sparkly silver dress, nodded in agreement. "I had wanted to see what this looked like on someone." She turned to her pink-wearing teenage friend. "The mannequin just doesn't do this dress justice, Tori. It looks totally better on a living person." "See, Charlene? What did I tell you?" Leanne remarked, her hands on her hips. "You should place your trust in me more often. Do I have good taste or not?" "Well...it seems a touch...provocative..." Charlene looked down at the dress, smoothing her hands along its stretchy surface. "...but, I suppose I'm probably on a par with whatever they're wearing on the red carpet these days." "If by provocative, you mean you're gonna get all the attention from the guys in a room, then...um, yes??" Nicola observed. "You look like you're ready for the nightclub circuit, honey." "I'd get something similar if I had the money," Tori noted, her eyes still scanning Charlene's dress. "But...it's...kind of out of my price range." Charlene nodded in total agreement as she turned her head to Leanne. "Yeah. Speaking of which..." "I don't care how much this dress costs." Leanne raised a hand in restraint, speaking authoritatively. "As far as you and I are concerned, this dress is yours. In fact, we're getting heels to go with this outfit, and you're gonna wear this to the club once we go to the Salon and get your hair and makeup done." Charlene's defenses immediately came back up. "WAIT a minute. I am not going to that Salon." Leanne's eyebrow raised. "Oh, really? So I suppose you'd rather look as plain and uninteresting as you do right now?" "I don't give a fuck. I'm not going anywhere near that place," Charlene firmly remarked. "I'll do my hair and makeup somewhere else." "Charlene, they have professionals in..." "I said I am not going, Leanne!" Charlene angrily yelled. "Whoa, whoa, relax. Calm down...Charlene, is it?" The blond girl in pink stepped in to place a hand, gently, on the angry teenage girl's right shoulder. "I'm Tori. Nice to meet you. Listen...I've been trained as a beautician, and so has Nicola here. If you like, we can work on you outside of the Salon. Just one trip to the Ladies Room, and we'll get you all set up." "Just as long as we don't have to go into that place," Charlene asserted. Nicola spoke softly as she placed a hand on Charlene's other shoulder. "Don't worry, dear. You're in good hands with the both of us. You won't need to set a single foot into that place. Although I don't understand your hesitation, you certainly sound like you have strong reasons for it." Charlene sighed, her senses sharp once again. "Why do I get the feeling I'm about to be sucker-punched?" "Charlene, I don't understand." Looking insulted now, Leanne crossed her arms in front of her as she continued to chide the long-haired teenager. "You openly trust my taste in dresses, but you can't trust in the finest of Beauty Salons, and the most popular place in the entire city?" "I could always change into my regular clothes and go back home, Leanne," Charlene challenged. "Won't even shed so much as a tear over it." This seemed to radically change Leanne's approach. "Okay, okay, okay. I hear you. Look...I'm sorry. I guess...I guess I'm just used to everyone going there given its high standards, but...I suppose if you have some kind of a beef with something about it, I...I'll acquiesce. Besides..." She gestured to Tori and Nicola. "...you obviously have the next best thing as a backup plan." "Besides...I really want to be able to give you the perfect hairstyle to go with that dress," Nicola remarked, smiling. "And the best possible makeup job, too," Tori added. After a moment, Charlene nodded. "Okay, but Leanne...please don't bring up the Salon anymore. Just...just leave me to my reasons, all right?" Leanne nodded. "Deal." Despite her agreement, Leanne made a mental note to bring up the Speakeasy app and open up a dialogue with her mom. Once the girls left Hourglass and the trio disappeared inside the Ladies Room, Leanne brought out her smartphone. * * * BarbWire '