Cat And Mouse 2 - Pink Persuasions - Chapters IX And X free porn video

IX: Pre-Party Jitters Although the beautiful, dark-haired young single mother who was once again to confront the blond woman called Grace Lees...on this, the day before the meticulously-planned social event at Cincher's called the Pink Party...currently answered to the name Elizabeth Zambrano, it was not by this name that this person was conceived when...he...was born. Elizabeth was born Edward Wilson, the male son of Jack and Trudy Wilson, who had themselves been subjugated and changed by the Cresswell conspiracy. Having finished out his College education at the age of 18, Edward chose to come home and surreptitiously take advantage of whatever charity he could bleed, financially, out of his own parents. Grace Lees, however, changed all that once she handed him the drugged cocktail that made him susceptible to the scheming blond woman's whims. He slowly dissolved into a feminine lifestyle, and was eventually reborn as Elizabeth, forsaking everything that he was in favor of the long-haired blonde she had become. This stage of her new life would temporarily remove her from Bullchester in favor of a life abroad, and this life turned out to be a turbulent one at that. Although she left Bullchester as Elizabeth Wilson, she returned as Elizabeth Zambrano, and six months after the passing of her husband, Maniche. They had adopted two children, as well...Sofia, and Isabella...since Elizabeth was unable to have kids at the time. Maniche had also financed the means to make his new wife completely female as well. Upon reuniting with Grace two days ago, and receiving an assurance that her children would be enrolled at Feetham's in exchange for establishing Elizabeth as the Chief Organizer of Bullchester Debutantes, the former boy was also reunited with the maid who used to be Edward's father, who was now called Joan. Today, however, Grace...who had reluctantly accepted the invitation to attend the Pink Party...needed to find someone to take with her, and as a preference, it needed to be someone...ideally a former male...who a Sisterhood advocate had feminized, if not made submissive. Grace decided to have Elizabeth Zambrano join her. This, of course, meant having her abide by the dress code. Her hair needed to be dyed pink, and she needed to attend barefoot, with a skimpy pink dress. Grace had already acquired both. It was just a matter of having Liz apply them. As the blond schemer figured that Elizabeth would be hesitant, she decided to make use of the very same trick that began Edward's journey to femininity in the first place: the cocktail beverage which contained the mind-bending serum. As a backup plan, she had a Tear Duct on her as well. Grace was also curious as to what would happen if Liz met Tamara, who she had learned was already acquired as a guest of one of the debutantes. At first, she suspected that this was the Mayoress, but Grace learned that Julia Stroud turned down her invitation in favor of a municipal function which Grace suspected was an arrangement made by Agatha herself. It was clear, then, that Rita's submissive had to be Tamara Portnoy. She made a mental note to try and stage an intervention in the hopes that after the party, she could steal Tamara away from Rita and get her safely back home before the crafty debutante could try anything that would compromise Tamara's coveted independence. Losing Tamara to Rita, after all, would effectively sabotage Grace's chances of securing Maggie Katzhoff as an ally. When Elizabeth arrived at Lees Mansion, the greetings between Grace and the former boy were pleasant enough, with the gorgeous Elizabeth flashing her sweet smile before Grace had her guest settle upon a comfy couch in one of the Mansion's Living Rooms. Liz, apparently, wanted to get right down to business as they walked into the lavish, lounge-like room. "So after my first class with those three new girls...Priscilla, Ginger, and Geena...I have a feeling that Ginger is going to be the closest thing to a star pupil. Geena is showing considerable pedigree for a potential debutante, and Priscilla...well, she's going to need some extra work, I'm afraid, if she's going to fit in. I failed to notice that she has wider hips compared to the others, so I'll just fix up her regimen accordingly." "Fine, fine," Grace replied, smiling as she stepped over to a countertop where a silver teapot sat idle, along with two glasses. "Would you like something to drink, Elizabeth?" Elizabeth nodded. "Sure. Is that tea?" Grace shrugged, hiding the truth behind an amused smile as she poured the 'tea' into each glass. "What else could this be?" Grace settled into the seat opposite where Elizabeth idled once her guest had taken the glass from the blonde's hand. "So what did you want to see me about, Madame Grace?" Logically, Grace had to stall for a bit until Liz brought her drink to her lips. "Well...I was going to ask you for a progress report, but..." Elizabeth finally drank down some of her beverage. "...it seems you...beat me to the punch." Liz frowned upon tasting her drink. "This doesn't taste like tea! Are y-you sure..." She felt compelled to drain more from the glass as she began slipping into a trance. "...you-you didn't..." "No, dear," Grace began, a smirk forming on her lips. "But tomorrow night is supposed to be a big deal, and I need to show off how lovely you've become since I...turned your silly little life as a man on its ear." Elizabeth was now half-lidded as she continued to stare at Grace, who rose up and moved to sit in the space next to the former Edward Wilson. "T-tomorrow...night?" "Hush. I need you to listen, dear, and follow every instruction I give you without protest," Grace gently placed an arm around Liz's shoulders, and caressed her cheek lightly as she spoke. "Tomorrow night, at a nightclub called Cincher's, is to be a large-scale social event called the Pink Party. I am going to give you something to wear, and something to apply to your hair for tomorrow night. It's going to change the color of your hair. I will expect you to join me in bare feet tomorrow as well, I will expect you to feel very comfortable in the outfit I give you, and your new hair color, and I will expect you to be...a bit more loose with any guest that I feel would strike your fancy. This should not be a problem for you, seeing as how you trust my words, and my judgments, and that Madame Grace always knows what is best for you. Am I right, dear?" "Yes, Madame Grace," Elizabeth quietly replied. "You should not feel any sense of worry about your children, Elizabeth," Grace added. "Whatever happens at this Pink Party will stay at this Pink Party unless you deem otherwise, by virtue of your own free judgment. Your children will have a responsible babysitter tend to them while you are gone. Someone you can trust. Someone who will not harm either one of them. Madame Grace needs you to join me for this party, no matter how demeaning it may seem, but I want you to feel assured that I will be making sure you come out of this experience unharmed. I want you to feel assured that Madame Grace will see to your happiness, and your contentment, now that you are back in Bullchester. Do you feel that way already, sweetie?" "Yes, Madame Grace." "Good, very good," Grace responded smiling. "Now, you wait right here while I get us both some real tea, and we can talk a little more about your work with your three precious new cherubs." The tea was able to effectively wash away the serum's hold on Elizabeth's mind, although the instructions Grace had given her while under its influence obviously remained. * * * As much as Tamara did not want to look nervous as she entered the Dilapidating Machine, she still felt herself quaking very nervously. Her hesitation ever since being called in was terribly evident, and even the young woman called upon to see to Tamara...an attractive attendant named Donna...was able to pick up on this apparent fear. Donna rested a hand upon Tamara's shoulder as the plus-sized woman exhaled a shaky breath. "Please calm down, Miss Portnoy," she assured. "I promise. This won't hurt a bit. You'll feel like a new woman when we're done." This well-meaning statement alone only served to increase Tamara's concerns. If Grace lied to me, her sensible side told herself. I'll never be the same person again. I'll...die. I'll be mindlessly licking at Rita Noble's foot for the rest of my life... The more provocative side of her id had to intrude. ...but would that be so bad, Porntoy? You can't deny how much you loved it...how much you still love it... Tamara's face was as neutral as it could be, despite the inner fear, as the upper door of the Dilapidating Machine closed up, securing her within with only the sound of pleasant music attempting to make her feel at ease. Tamara even recognized the tune, which was a nice beachside melody from an artist named Sven Van Hees entitled Ocean Jive. A soft voice then purred along with the music. Ease in. The voice began. Relax. Take deeeeeep breaths. Let th... The voice seemed to cut off right there. The rest was music as a low, faint humming noise signaled the start of the machine's offered process, which Tamara could begin to feel as she closed her eyes, and began to feel as if she were resting upon a warm and comfortable cloud within the skies above. * * * Outside of the machine, Donna...who used to be a young man named Gordon...noticed a sudden abnormality showing upon the screen of the monitoring computer. Frowning in her curiosity, she picked up the nearby phone and pressed a button, waiting for someone to pick up. "Hi, it's Donna," she began when the line clicked open. "I've got a routine interrupt error on the Dilap. Should I...huh? You know about it? But...oh. This should be treated as a special." She shrugged, still finding the circumstances a little mystifying. "Okaaaay. If you say so. No, I...I don't mean to sound rude, Madame Grace. It's just...I want to be sure is all. Just, you know, doing my job here. Okay, so...you know about it. All good then. Bye!" Donna's brow furrowed as her eyes went to the...deliberately malfunctioning Dilapidation Machine. This was certainly the most unusual 'special' circumstance she had been called upon to administer to. With rumors of hacker-based incidents plaguing computer systems in Bullchester, Donna felt it prudent to call the error message in at the highest possible level. Her concerns were interrupted by the presence of Tamara's friend, who had been lingering in the lobby of the Butterfly Salon. It was also this person who was financing Tamara's makeover as well. "How's my big-boobed babydoll doing in there?" Lois Fryer asked. "All systems go?" "Uhh...yeah. All good." Donna flashed a cordial smile. "Should be a couple minutes more." "Good, good," Lois replied. "Had to twist that woman's arm, practically, to get her to come here. I'm confident she'll thank me in the end, though." Donna nodded, smiling, as Lois gingerly turned away and settled back into her seat in the lobby. Her own clearly augmented looks drew stares from the other couple of clients in the lobby. * * * ...one. Tamara's eyes shot open. She was not expecting to hear any more voices, yet this one seemed to be finishing a slow countdown. The plus-sized former boy certainly felt a little different prior to nodding off. Her skin felt quite a bit more refreshed now, as her mind interpreted it. Have a wonderful day, Tamara Portnoy... The serene female voice continued as the locks on the lid of the machine disengaged. ...and remember that the voice of Madame Grace is the one that always knows what's best for you. Brighter light suddenly invaded the soft neon blue-lit interiors of the machine as the face of a smiling Donna came into focus following the glare of the bright lights of the room the Dilapidating Machine was stationed in. "How are you feeling, Miss Portnoy?" Donna asked. "Uhh...better," Tamara responded. "Yes...I...this was...yes," She was actually surprised to see that these were her own thoughts, accurately reflecting how she felt. "This feels...really good, thank you." "I would have recommended a tan, seeing as how you're so pale, but...seems your biological condition forbids it," Donna remarked as she helped Tamara's fully naked body emerge from the machine. "So...seeing as how this was the last procedure of the day, it's time we cut your umbilicals and sent you out there to draw some stares alongside your friend." Tamara giggled at this thought. "Yeah, I...I guess so." My name is Tamara Portnoy. She thought to herself, verifying that her mind was still hers. My mother's name is Ruth Portnoy. I have two sisters named Sandra and Shelley who are still in College. Rita Noble is a sick, twisted bitch who wants me to be her slut. I have an appointment with Mayoress Julia Stroud next week for a job as her secretary. Maggie Katzhoff and Larry Hanel are my best friends. She hardly paid attention to Donna's parting words as she went into the dressing room to re-outfit herself with the sexy, embroidered, backless red dress Lois had picked out for her before they went into the Salon for her appointment. It was now amazingly clear to Tamara that Grace, her mysterious blond ally, could be a woman of her word. That she could be trusted. That Grace...Madame Grace...would know what's best for her. Tamara also remembered that it was Lois Fryer who was treating her to this rejuvenating visit to the dreaded Salon in the first place. The former boy now felt compelled to thank her for being so persistent in her want to dispel Tamara's fears. Although Tamara knew that this 'grace' visit, so to speak, was both figuratively and literally an arrangement. In fact, Tamara was certain that this would be the only time she was going to patronize the Butterfly Salon. She knew she could not continually curry the same favor, over and over, to Grace for something as petty as improvements in her personal appearance. The eyes of the occupants of the Salon's lobby certainly widened when Tamara came back into the waiting area, and Lois was quick to rise up and assess the kinds of improvements she had paid the Salon to apply to her formerly skeptical new friend. Oh yes. Lois. Tamara reminded herself. She's a friend, too. Good friend. Yes. "Well, hel-looooo, hottie!" Lois treated herself to a lingering smooch on Tamara's lips. "So are we still answering to the name 'Tamara Portnoy', silly girl?" Tamara lowered her head a bit, feeling a little embarrassed as she smiled. "Yes, I...I'm still me." "TOLD you! How many times did I tell you? You were worrying over nothing! NOTHING!" Lois gingerly remarked, gently tapping Tamara's head as if to slap her for her denseness. "Follow along with me now, honey. I wanna show us both off." Eyes followed both women out of the room as they left the Butterfly Salon and began clacking their heels along a lane full of the Mall's resident shops. "See?" Lois gave her friend a soft, emphatic nudge as they walked. "It was not that bad, was it, Tamara?" "Well...it was a little scary getting into that Dilapidating Machine, to be honest," Tamara replied. Grace kept her word, silly girl. Her sinful id reminded. Nothing happened to me. "Thanks to me, your skin looks soooo perfect now," Lois reinforced. "No blemishes, either!" Tamara shrugged, smiling. "I gotta admit, my skin does feel fabulous!" Lois shook her head shamefully. "And you were dead set against it to begin with." "I did have good reasons, too," Tamara shot back. "Oh?" Lois challenged. "So you still maintain that people go into that Salon and come out with a completely different personality?" "Well, what about you?" Tamara noted. "Were you not changed after going in there?" "Tammy...I chose to go into the Salon for a legitimate reason," Lois answered. "But you were a completely different person before you entered it, weren't you, Lois?" Lois sighed thoughtfully, but her self-defense lingered. "I was a down-trodden, gullible woman who thought that my husband was my life, putting up with his string of sluts throughout our marriage." "And look at you now," Tamara interjected. "One of the sexiest women on campus that has not one, but two young lovers." "But that was the reason I decided to go in the Salon, Tammy," Lois affirmed. "I've been feeling just capital about myself since!" Tamara nodded. "So you would not want to go back to how it was?" "You were a boy once, yes?" Lois countered. "Would you want to go back to being one?" "Mmmm...you have me there," Tamara thoughtfully replied, although his words seemed as if they were unconsciously spoken as he uttered them. "The way I feel in this body, being a girl...fff-fuck, no..." What?? Tamara's sensible side seemed to cry out in disbelief. "...I sure would not want to go back...to being that...boy..." "I'm enjoying my life now," Lois cooed. "I've woken up, and even if that Salon did make me change as you say it has, all I can say to that is...fuck it. It was the best decision of my life!" Lois is not just a bimbo, airhead. Tamara's provocative id challenged. She is quite intelligent...unlike you...so maybe you should consider that little Miss badass Katzhoff might just be wrong about that place! Irrelevant points. Tamara argued to herself. I'm not going back there. Lois, who was wearing a similarly embroidered, striped pink dress, led Tamara to yet another cosmetically-inclined place, which was notably separate from the Butterfly Salon. "Oooh, Tammy...check this place out. This is where I booked my cosmetic surgery!" Tamara raised an eyebrow. "You had surgery?" "Yes, ditzy-poo. I did," Lois confirmed. "Why do you ask?" I thought they changed people with a special drug or something. Tamara wondered to herself. "I dunno...I just...thought you developed like you are naturally." "Oh, I wish!" Lois responded. "An older woman like me needs this kind of surgery, unlike a creature as young as yourself!" Tamara shrugged. "I...never really thought about how my body was so naturally formed." Lois stepped up close to the plus-sized woman, rubbing a hand over the former secretary's curves as she alluringly spoke. "But I bet there's still a few things you'd like to have altered, hmmm?" "What...me??" Tamara incredulously replied. "Have surgery?" "You had your lips done and had Botox," Lois noted, remembering some of the details of the job she had paid for. "It's just the start, Tamara." Tamara shrugged again, finding the notion a bit petty. "What more could I have done, anyway?" "You've already got a body like that Imogen model over there," Lois indicated a provocatively shapely woman with delectable features and curves, but with an oddly mismatched face. "so your womanly curves don't need any work...but I'm sure there is something more you might like to change about your appearance?" "Why would I need to?" Tamara countered. "You're a woman now, Tammy," Lois reasoned. "As a woman, there is always something a woman does not like about herself." "I...I was...always paranoid about my facial features when I...I was a boy..." Another unconscious statement emerging from the former boy's perfectly-augmented lips. Where was this line of thinking coming from, Tamara wondered? "Mm-hmmm...and I bet you would have given anything to change that," Lois noted as a fresh impulse formed in her mind. "Well...if I had the money, yeah, I would have..." Tamara consciously answered. "...maybe a better nose, or something..." "Well, now you can, you silly airhead!" Lois amusedly observed. "Tamara, if you had a little more done, it would kill off the boy you once were and ultimately define you as the woman you have become." "Lois, I...I'm not a vain person," Tamara remarked. "Oh, come the fuck on. Vain? So many women and teenagers have it done these days. I should not think that being vain comes into this!" Once again, Tamara's sinful side fed her mind. Yes, you did always have a hangup about your nose, didn't you? Remember that photographer saying you were not facially correct to be a model? Poooor dear. Poooor little bimbo slut. The scrutinizing eyes of Lois Fryer narrowed as her gaze lingered on her friend. She gently laid a hand upon the young woman's shoulder. "Well...judging by your pause, I would say you are...contemplating? Hmmm?" "Huh? No, I...I could hardly..." But as Tamara spoke, Lois was already stepping forward to the woman at the cash register, much to the plus- sized woman's surprise. "...Lois? Um...what are you doing?" "Booking an appointment with Dr. Drake for you, barbie girl," Lois resolutely remarked. "Uh, no, Lois. I don't really want..." "It's just a consultation, bubble-head!" Lois amusedly chided. "Just listen to what Dr. Drake has to say, and then make your decision!" She turned her attention back to the woman at the register. "Hey there! It's me again!" "Ah, Mrs. Fryer," the woman remarked, flashing a perfect smile. "It's good to see you again!" "Good to see you too, Jennifer," Lois chirped back. "Are you looking to have some more procedures done, Mrs. Fryer?" Jennifer asked. "Not this time," Lois answered. She then pulled Tamara over as she stared up at a list of medical procedures that seemed to hold her attention in that moment, despite herself. "I'm here to book my friend Tamara here for a consultation with Dr. Parker Drake." "Ah, how wonderful," Jennifer responded. "I'm guessing you want to take advantage of this month's 'Bring a Friend' discount?" Lois shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "I suppose so." Jennifer then turned her attention to Tamara. "What was your name again, Miss...?" "Huh? Oh..." the former boy blushed. "...Tamara Portnoy." Her next thought seemed to come from both sides of her id at once, sharing a singular curiosity Tamara did not expect to contemplate. I wonder what I would look like...with a new nose...and...my cheeks sculptured? Tamara's curiosities, mirrored by the contemplative look on her face, was obviously not lost on Lois, who had stepped behind her to wrap her arms around her plus-sized friend. "Don't tell me I've...infected you with the idea?" Lois enticingly purred into Tamara's ear. "Maybe..." was all that quietly came out of Tamara's mouth. "...maybe..." * * * It was Freshman Day at Feetham's, and Donnie Blatz had a bullying track star named Ron McCormick and Billy Traeger, a wild-haired heavy metal music lover, with him as they prowled the hallways between classes looking for Freshmen to torment. Such was the habit of the upper classmen on this, an unofficial day that the faculty frowned upon. They spotted Ben Dooley, a slim-bodied and meek young man that Donnie particularly liked to go after. He had bullied him around at least five times since they first shared a class together. He commonly waited until the teacher's back was turned so that he could quickly move behind Billy, and then viciously slap the back of the socially awkward student's head before returning to his seat. He did see that Ben had a hall pass, but pass or not, he was out in the hallway, and as Freshman Day rules had it, this meant Ben was fair game. Ron easily grabbed Ben from behind, and he brought the struggling, writhing student into a lavatory with Billy's help as Donnie followed them in. They shoved Ben down to the ground as Donnie casually walked over to where he was sprawled upon the floor. Ron and Billy stood guard over the entrance to the bathroom as Donnie stood over his chosen target. "What'cha doing out in the hallway, Doo-Doo?" Donnie began. "F-favor," Ben fearfully replied. "For a teacher." "Well, ain't you a good doggie!" Ron sarcastically remarked as Billy cruelly chuckled. "Shoulda brought a collar!" Billy added between his chuckles. Donnie shook his head, still looking at Ben. "You gotta pay your toll, nerd," He pointed to Ben's feet. "Get those sneakers off." Once Ben pulled his brand new sneakers off of his feet, Donnie picked each of them up and tossed them into a nearby toilet stall. Ben heard them splash into one of the floor-bound bowls. "Can I...can I go now?" Ben fearfully asked. "No." "Whyyy??" Ben whined. "Interest payment." Donnie pointed to Ben's pants-clad legs. "Get those jeans off. And your underpants." Ben sighed out fretfully. "Donnie, c'mon. I...I can't..." Donnie's tone turned nasty. "Get those fucking pants off, or we're gonna kick the shit outta you right now, nerd!!" Donnie reveled in his show of strength and superiority as Ben, who was on the verge of tears now, began removing his pants, and his tighty- whiteys. As Ben sobbed, Donnie snatched up the discarded clothes and dropped them in a pile a few feet away from where Ben was crying. "You don't want us to beat you up? Gimme twenty push-ups. On your knuckles," Donnie stepped over to where Ben's clothes laid idle. "I'm gonna go take a leak." Unzipping his fly, Ron hurried over and counted out Ben's agonized push-ups as Donnie sent a stream of urine towards the suffering Freshman's clothes. * * * "Ohhh!" Prototype B rose from his sleep as if coming out of a nightmare. His eyes were as wide as saucers as the tips of the fingers of his right hand went to his right cheek. Prototype A, who was sleeping nearby, rose his upper body as he looked to his fellow prototype curiously. "Bad dream, honey?" Prototype A asked. "Oh, it was horrible," B fretfully replied. "I...I dreamt some terrible man was picking on a poor, defenseless young boy. He even pissed on his clothes!" The fingers of both hands was near his mouth now, dwelling on how dreadful the fresh visions were. "It was so disgusting! How could that man have been so horrid?" As B spoke, A slipped off of his bed and stepped over to the one his fellow prototype was in. A remembered how he looked previously, and he was increasingly pleased with the way his body's male appearance was diminishing. His initial struggle to resist the femininity Evangeline Pierson was forcing upon him...as Julius Reid...did not last long at all. There was still a diminishing part of B that wanted to persist in his resistance, hence the very occurrence of the nightmare, but by now, Protoype B had acknowledged the person he used to be...Donnie Blatz...as nothing more than an element in a nightmare vision. A rubbed a hand over B's face in consolation as he stood over Prototype B's bed. "It was just a dream, sweetie. Nothing more. Juuuuust a dream." The warmth of A's brown hand made B shudder pleasurably. His senses seemed to melt as he laid there, cooing an approving noise as A slowly rubbed his hand down towards B's budding breasts. "Relax," A's effeminate voice was like warm honey in B's ears as the black man with the femininely slim body sat at B's bedside. "Think of how pink you and I are gonna be tomorrow night." "Omigoddess, I...I can't wait," B gently remarked as he savored the feel of A's hand against the bare, uncovered parts of his own feminizing body. Pulling B up from the mattress, A wrapped his slim arms around B's body and gently pressed his lips against those of his fellow prototype. B purred as their lips met. His own slim arms wrapped around A's body, which had breasts a dimension larger than his. Both bodies rolled, and moaned, onto the bed as they continued to passionately grope and kiss each other. The bed creaked a bit, but it was able to support their combined weight. B loved it when A was on top. It was always his preference in their loveplay. Or so he had been thoroughly conditioned to believe. "Soooo..." B cooed as they laid next to each other, staring into each other's eyes. "...what do you think of Kelly?" "The new girl? Mmmm, she's a precious lil' child," A responded. "I hear she caught Master Leonard's eye at first sight. Wouldn't be surprised if Walda started gettin' jealous." "They're coming with us too, aren't they?" "Uh-huh!" Prototype A replied. "They're both gonna be pink, just like you an' me," His tone turned amusingly, teasingly suggestive. "May even give us all a chance t' get t' know each other better, know what I mean?" B giggled girlishly at this. "We should go easy on Kelly, though. I mean, she is the newbie." "Oh, hell. Master Leonard's probably gonna be all over her anyway!" A openly mused. B grinned lasciviously. "Like you're all over me right now?" A hovered hungrily over the effeminate, Caucasian-skinned man now. "Honey...we're just gettin' started," A's hand caressed at B's face as it moved towards the back of B's head, where he grabbed a handful of B's hair. "You know what to do, don't you, bitch?" And once again, their lips locked as they both moaned passionately. Eventually, they switched positions so that B's lips could lovingly peck a path from A's, down his brown-skinned neck, between his B-cups, and along A's belly before they stopped at a certain sexual organ... ...which, despite its greatly diminished state, was otherwise fully functional. * * * "Pink, Shel," Sandra Portnoy scowled at her older sister as they spoke in her office. "From head to toe. PINK!! They even want that shit in my HAIR??" Shelley shrugged. "It's a requirement for certain people going down to this party. Madame Noble told us to ignore the formality. Just move around and mingle. She also told us that we'll be meeting a surprise guest she's bringing with her." "Did you see the dress they want me to wear?" Sandra griped. "I'm surprised you could even call it a fucking dress! Barely covers my privates! And how do I know I'm not gonna get an allergic reaction to whatever this gunk is I have to color my hair with? It's happened before, Shel! You were there when I started dry-heaving!" "Sandra, stop it," Shelley sharply asserted. "Jesus H. Christ, the way you're always complaining like a pouty little brat when something doesn't sit well with you! It's just for one goddamn night! This 'Pink Party' is supposed to be calling down nearly all of the city's cultural elite, and I want to try and dig as much as I can. Baby steps, San. For both our sakes. Now you know where you're at in this company, right?" Sandra unpleasantly nodded. "Yes." "You don't like it, do you?" Shelley quickly asked. Her younger sister shook her head. "No, I don't." "And did I tell you that I'd try to get you up the ladder in any way possible?" Sandra sighed, but nodded. "Yeah, you did." "Well, the only way I can do that is through a bit of mingling," Shelley reasoned. "We'd be flying blind without it. Just...humble yourself for at least one night. Loosen up a little. Listen to people chat each other up. I hear there's gonna be some kinky action going on, too." The mention of kinky action intrigued Sandra. "Did they ask you to go in pink?" Surprisingly, Shelley shook her head. "I wasn't pink-listed on the guest list Rita showed me, so no. If you're not on that list, it's voluntary." "So why the fuck do I have to??" Sandra protested. "I DON'T FRIGGIN' KNOW, SAN," Shelley loudly remarked. "I'm not Rita Noble, and it's not really my place to ask about something like that. You think I hold that kind of influence? I'm just a spoke on the junior executive wheel right now. The last big favor I did was to play chauffeur to one of the weirdest Loris clients I had ever met. Veeeya...something. I felt like I was driving around a plastic doll made in Switzerland. But this was a personal request from Rita, and I'm trying to get on her good side." "Is she gonna be there?" Sandra asked. "This Veeya-something person?" Shelley shrugged. "I guess so. I heard things got kinda hot and heavy when Rita finally met her, and by that, I'm talking sexual interaction. I guess Rita has a thing for freaks." As they spoke, a man with a mop...one of the company's janitors...came into the office to run his damp, soapy cleaning implement over the tiled floor. "Who do you think this...'surprise'...Rita is bringing is gonna be?" Sandra asked, raising her legs so the janitor could run the mop under her. He nodded in appreciation to her as he worked. "Probably a star client or something," Shelley responded, shrugging. "I'm just kinda going with all this, San. You should, too." Sandra then giggled over a thought. "Wouldn't it be funny if it turned out to be lil' Timmy?" Shelley's mood quickly soured. "Yeah. Real laugh riot," She sarcastically replied. "We'll always be the better Portnoys compared to that wimpy mama's boy." "Damn right, we are," Sandra responded. She then headed for the office's front door as the janitor finished mopping. "Goin' for coffee. You want?" Shelley nodded. "You know how I like it." The janitor courteously held the glass door open for Sandra as they both left the office. * * * Once he was outside of the building, the 'janitor'...a Slavic man called Zaracez...ducked into a quiet alley and touched a button on the wireless phone device in his ear. "Katerina?" Zaracez began, speaking in a hushed tone. "Grace friend Portnoy has sisters, yes?" "Yeah," a young female voice replied. "They're supposed to be in College. Why?" "Nyet," her older agent answered. "They are Loris women now." "Eta podlaya suka," Katerina's voice swore. "Rita's probably gonna use them to fuck around with Tamara. Grace won't want that," She let out a loud sigh before continuing. "I...don't suppose you can, maybeeee, find a way to keep them away from the Pink Party without inflicting too much damage?" "Da," Zaracez assured. "I can do this. I...slip them Mickey Finn. Make upset stomachs. 24 hours." "Spasibo, comrade," Katerina appreciatively chimed. "That will be fine." * * * The clear skies above progressed in deeper shades of blue as Tamara approached her house, having stepped off the bus coming out of the city and into the Barford suburbs. She was returning from an impromptu visit to the East Side salon. She had decided to have it professionally applied rather than simply wash it into her own hair herself. Tamara had an interesting idea about its design, anyway, and such an idea demanded a professional hand in its application. The plus-sized former boy had the idea for the hairdresser to infuse her pink hair with visible blond streaks so she could place symbolic emphasis on the fact that she was still in control of her own destiny. The end result looked very eye-catching. She even earned herself a few stares during the bus ride. Stepping up to the front door of her house, she unlocked the door with her house key, and made her way past the house's foyer... ...but as she did, she picked up on a strong scent she didn't expect, and the odor was a strong one. Feet. Unwashed, labored, sweaty feet. The scent immediately made her weak in the knees as she stepped into the Living Room, her eyes half-lidded... ...and saw a woman she never thought she would see sitting at her couch, her bare feet propped up and crossed at the ankles upon the nearby coffee table. Flashing a full grin, the crafty, shapely blond debutante lifted a leg up and used her bare foot to offer a wave to the busty, plus-sized young woman whose transformation she herself had engineered. It was Rita Noble. "Whuh...w...what are y-you doing here?" Tamara stammered out, the foot odor affecting her in a manner similar to Superman's kryptonite weakness. "Why are you...why...?" "Nice to see you again," Rita began, still grinning like the Cheshire cat. "Slut." "I-I locked...the house..." Rita giggled, savoring Tamara's bothered reaction to the odor she had sprayed all over the Living Room. "Yes, I noticed that when I got here...but I am a Sisterhood debutante, slut. If we want to get into a sealed house in Bullchester, we always have a way. Even after you changed the locks on the doors following our last meeting at the park, I was able to get a copy of the key quite easily, and even if you somehow get the keys I have on me, I still have several more conveniently hidden away back home." "Get out, you...you bitch," Tamara sharply commanded, trying to keep from looking stimulated. "I don't...want you here." "Now, now, slut. Is that any way to speak to your benefactor?" Rita cooed. "to your...blind date?" Despite the heavy foot odor, Tamara's eyes widened in her horror. "N- no...not...not you..." "The idea for the Pink Party was mine, slut," Rita purred. "All your old friends will be there. Me, Judith, Barbara...even Agatha. How could I not bring my most prized creation with me?" "That's nice," Tamara frowned now, summoning up an inner resolve. "Get out." "Make me go, slut." Rita rose to her bare feet, maintaining her sadistic grin. Although she stepped forward angrily, raising her hands to grab handfuls of her tight latex dress... ...Tamara instead placed her hands upon the dress gently, the anger quickly dissolving into an overpowering lust. She tried hitting her, but her hands instead caressed lustfully against the rubber surface of Rita Noble's dress whenever the strikes landed. Rita stared deviously into Tamara's shocked and confused eyes. "You can't hurt me, slut. Not physically, at least," Rita grabbed Tamara's wrists and positioned them behind her, pressing her shapely body right up against Tamara's now quivering frame. "You're mine. You belong to me, and me alone." "No...!" Tamara shook her head fearfully now, her breaths shaky. "No...no...y-you..." "'You, you, youuuu...!'" Rita mocked, cruelly giggling. "You can't even hurt me. Even if you wanted to, silly slut. You can't hide behind any of your friends this time, either. Or your mom. You can spend all the time you want thinking you have control of your own life...but you'll never escape the fact that I am your life, Tammy Porntoy." Yes...YES! Tamara's sinful id demanded. Give in! Stop resisting! Remember those dreams you had? You woke up soooo aroused. SURRENDER yourself. Go on...you know you want to...you owe Madame Noble so much! Tamara spoke through gritted teeth, echoing the words of her own inner resistance. "You just want my dick back between my legs!" "And that's exactly what's going to happen, slut," Rita fixed a determined stare unto her creation's defiant eyes. "And then I'm going to brand you, so everyone knows you're mine. I'll never be satisfied until you're just a thing." The plus-sized woman rested her head upon Rita's chest in her despair. "You bitch..." she whined. "...you...bitch..." she repeated, hissing passionately despite herself. Rita's lips moved close to Tamara's right ear. She spoke alluringly. "Unless you want to trade?" Tamara frowned in her confusion. "Trade?" "Give me the name of one of your friends, Tammy," Rita offered. "One name. Just one. I'll use my influence to make that person the same kind of sextoy I was going to make you, and I will let you go. I will free you from my influence. I could even make you a young man again." Tamara went dead silent. It had to be a trick. Rita was clearly toying with her. Wasn't she? "How aboooout...Larry?" Rita then cooed. "Give me Larry, slut. I'll hire him for a high-profile court case involving a rape, and then I'll frame him for the same crime." "You can't," Tamara defiantly hissed. "He's earned the favor of the Sisterhood, you dumb twat!" "Which doesn't mean shit to me," Rita shot back. "I'll frame him so convincingly, even the Sisterhood will want to see him in cuuuute widdle pink panties. I could even make him your age. Maybe even make him look just...like...you." "Over my dead body," Tamara resolutely growled. "How about...Maggie? Hmmm?" Rita suggested. "I have to get back at her somehow for nearly breaking my arm when we first met. I hear she pissed off Agatha, too. Maybe she and I can double-team her. What do you say, slut? It's not like you see her that often these days, do you? What kind of a friendship is that? Give her to me, Tammy. Say the word, and you won't have to be my Porntoy anymore." Tamara sighed fretfully. "You'll just take me anyway. This isn't about me. This is about my Dad. This is about someone I never liked because he treated women like shit...and I know she bullied you around, but I am not...my...dad!!" Rita giggled wickedly, still holding Tamara's wrists behind her. "Not the kind of thing I would expect to hear from the sex-crazed she-male airhead I want you to be...but it's not too late to change that, Tammy Porntoy." Being as close as she was to Rita was now weakening Tamara's resolve to resist. The allure was growing, despite her clear resistance. The smell of Rita's breath, the sound of Rita's voice, the feel of Rita's touch...the former boy's angry eyes began to narrow to lustful slits. Rita could feel the tenseness of her former boy's body soften. She exhaled her breath, slowly, unto Tamara's face, and the plus-sized woman's head softly rested upon Rita's chest once again. The debutante's hands finally released Tamara's wrists, and then came up to softly rub and caress both sides of Tamara's face, causing her to softly and passionately moan in her appreciation. "In the pantheon of Bullchester deities," Rita softly proclaimed as her fingers ran through Tamara's hair. "I am your Goddess. I always will be. Lower to your knees before your Goddess, slut." As Tamara sank to her knees, her defiant resolve sabotaged, Rita stepped back and settled into the couch, propping her legs up on the coffee table. Her bare feet were conveniently positioned in front of Tamara's face, and the former boy stared upon them with a sense of yearning. "You may service my tired feet now, Tammy Porntoy," Rita cooed. Tamara could feel the rush of excitement going through her as she began licking at the undersides of the debutante's feet. Her mouth closed over each of her toes, sucking upon them lovingly, sniffing whenever she could to savor more of the strong odor Rita's feet were emitting. Rita angled her head back comfortably, closing her eyes and panting softly over the alluring feel of Brock Portnoy's own son...thoroughly feminized, and completely at her mercy...tending to her own two feet. She rubbed her saliva-moistened feet against Tamara's face, deliberately messing up her hairstyle with them, and all the former boy could do was to moan passionately, lost in the feelings Rita had so thoroughly conditioned her to experience during the slow feminization of Timothy Portnoy. Although the attempt to bring Timmy's mother into the Sisterhood became a regrettable failure, there was still a lingering chance for Rita to earn her "porntoy". She planned to fully subjugate her...in front of her own two sisters, who would no doubt delight in seeing the former brother they hated reduced to the level, and the body, of a plus-sized whore...by the time the next night's Pink Party was over. She just needed to keep Tamara at her hip as much as possible. She knew it would not take much more for Tamara's will to permanently break. Especially after what she was doing with her tonight. Once her Pink Party was done, it was just a matter of making Tamara a she-male by restoring a male organ between her legs. Rita considered spending the night in Tamara's own bed, but she figured that the temporary deprivation of her company would make the former boy's want to return to Rita's side even stronger when the debutante returned to reclaim her. She left her in a quivering and quietly panting mound of lust when she slipped her bare feet back into a pair of nearby pumps and began walking towards the door. "See you tomorrow night, you dirty, filthy little slut," Rita purred as she stepped out of the front door, leaving Tamara to recover from her unexpected reunion with the woman who had so vividly changed, and tormented, her life. Such was her ravaged mental state that one hand went to her crotch, rubbing at her clit, while the middle finger of her other hand went into her mouth, sucking on the digit as if it were a male organ. Goddess... She mused to herself as she kept sucking at her finger. ...I could go for a real cock right now... * * * "Who thees?" Vije Nastassje frowned as she spoke into her smartphone. A female voice spoke in her native language. "A friend," she began. "You have business associations with a woman named Rita Noble, yes?" "Who wants to know?" Vije asked, switching to the same language. "What matters more, Vije?" the voice responded. "My name, or your interest in Rita? You can not have both. Not yet." The thin-figured woman sighed loudly. "Fine. Rita." "We can help you get her," the voice remarked. "You'll receive a package tomorrow morning. Make sure whoever it is that gets your mail...I believe his name is...Jonas? Make sure he looks for a package with your name on it. There will be no address, and no return address. It will be there." "What is in this package?" Vije curiously inquired. "You will see when you open it," the voice answered. "Make sure Jonas hands it right to you. No one else. When you get it, call the number enclosed in the package, and you will receive further instructions on its use. Understood?" Despite her suspicious expression, Vije nodded. "Yes." A click followed, heralding the connection's termination. Placing the phone back on the hook slowly, Vije began to wonder who it was that called her as her other hand stroked the pink-colored strands of Fifi's femininely-styled hair, which was now identical in style to Vije's. Fifi was kneeling upon the ground next to her, wearing a very skimpy pink bikini. A pink leather collar was around his neck, and his entire body had the same glossy sheen as Vije's. Fifi sighed approvingly at the touch of Vije's hand. The foreign woman's eyes were on the kneeling, latex-clad young man a few feet away from her. The initial rubber outfit he had been wearing was replaced by one that was entirely pink. Lengths of Ron's now longer hair were also colored a bright pink, and streamed out in long pigtails through holes in the pink mask he wore, which covered all but his eyes and mouth. His eyes, the pigtails, and his mouth were the only bare areas of his body that could be seen. The rest of him was covered in a layer of tight, shiny pink rubber. The Angel semen, by now, had finished molding Ron's body into a far more feminine version of himself. His hips were wide, his posterior rounded, and his chest bearing jiggling swells of a pair of D-cups. Mind-neutralizing drugs introduced into his body by Vije's "handlers" not only kept him sedate, but also susceptible to suggestion. As his Angel powers required skin-to-skin contact, he could not prevent the physically superior handlers from effectively inhibiting him. "Soooooo..." Vije purred as she looked down at Ron. "....how you, toy?" * * * "I...I-I'm fine..." Kelly fidgeted a bit as she answered. "...I guess...yeah." Prior to her current predicament, Kelly was yet another man caught in the crosshairs of the Sisterhood, and dealt with accordingly. She was once a fraudster named Kelvin Sherman, and he had been targeted not only by the FBI, but Interpol as well. After an encounter with Sisterhood advocate Hayley Anne McKinley, his days of evading capture and prosecution were effectively over, and his new life...as Kelly...had begun. She was subsequently brought to the attention of Evangeline Pierson on the notion that she was to be trained as a maid, but once the eyes of Evangeline's husband had fallen upon the nervous young former man, Leonard Hardcastle flashed a lascivious grin. Kelly's first day of training covered the basics on cleaning and cooking. As she was now on her husband's watch, Evangeline did not refer to her as another 'Prototype'. She nevertheless had Kelly share in the lessons she was administering to Prototypes A and B. Once the day's training sessions were over, Evangeline had explained to the three of them that they were to be taken to Rubie's Mall...and the Butterfly Salon...in preparation for their showcasing at the Pink Party. The appointment was for tomorrow, in the early afternoon. Kelly now stood, quite nervously, before Leonard Hardcastle, dressed only in a silken, lavender-colored lingerie slip. They were in the bedroom he and Evangeline, and the large, bald black man was sitting on the edge of the double bed, still dressed in his snappy black business suit. Leonard decided to test his wife's capacity to teach Kelly the basics. "Remove my shoes, maid." "Yes, sir." After making a curtsey gesture as she spoke, Kelly lowered to her knees and began with the left foot, removing the black, slip- on, laceless shoe, and then removing the other one. Holding the shoes together, Leonard pointed towards a closet, and when Kelly opened the closet, she saw a bare space where a collection of shoes were stored, and Kelly slipped the shoes into the empty space, closing the closet door afterwards. She then returned to stand in front of Leonard. The tall black man rose to his feet, raising his arms to the sides. Instinctively, Kelly stepped behind him and carefully pulled off the suit jacket he was wearing, folding it neatly and placing it upon the bed. She then loosened Leonard's tie and slipped it off of his neck, unbuttoning the collar area of his dress shirt after doing so. Neatly arranging the tie on top of the folded jacket, Kelly began to unbutton the black-pinstriped dress shirt, slipping it off of his body once all of the buttons were undone. Again, Kelly folded the shirt, picking up on his body scent as she did. Kelly found this scent strangely alluring. She could feel her loins reacting as she placed the neatly-folded shirt upon the jacket. Leonard, who had a tank-top white undershirt on, lowered his arms, smiling. "Very good so far, maid." Once again, Kelly made a curtsey gesture. "Thank you, sir," she chimed. Leonard's expression went serious again. "Continue." At first, she blinked in confusion, but then it hit her. It was time to remove Leonard's pants, and his socks. Swallowing hard, Kelly's hands went to unfasten the clasp, the button, and she then pulled down the zipper at the crotch area of his pants. She then carefully slipped the pants down along the tall black man's legs, exposing his white boxer underpants, which betrayed the presence of a large bulge. Kelly stared at this bulge for a long moment, even as she was neatly folding up the pants. She also remembered to empty the pockets of what was inside each of them, placing them neatly on the bed beside the pile of clothes. As she placed the folded pants upon the pile, Leonard once again settled his posterior onto the bed. Kelly then lowered to her knees, and while her eyes remained upon the bulge between his legs, her hands went to one of the socks. Carefully removing that sock, and then removing the other one, Kelly began to rise so she could place them upon the pile... ...but Leonard settled the heel of his right foot on Kelly's shoulder, effectively keeping her on her knees. The former man looked up, curiously, to Leonard. "I have been walking around a lot, maid," Leonard explained. "My sore feet are in need of relief." Knowing what he meant, Kelly nodded, although she was now blushing as well. "Yes, sir." Lowering Leonard's foot until it was in front of her, Kelly began to rub at it, effectively massaging the foot. The only problem was that she never received any real training in how to properly massage a foot. All Kelly could do was to try and recollect the times in which women tended to his own feet in his days as Kelvin Sherman. There was a strange smile, however, on Leonard's face as Kelly continued his attempt at a massage. Kelly then felt a pair of hands at her back, and she let out a startled gasp as the hands began to rub deeply upon the former man's back muscles. She started to look behind her... ...but Leonard quickly intervened on the attempt. "NO! Keep your eyes on me, maid. No matter what you are feeling." Kelly just stared, slack-jawed, upon the underwear-clad black man as whoever it was that was behind her continued to work a pair of hands at Kelly's back. Kelly's eyes lowered to slits as the person behind her worked. The massage she was receiving from this person felt wonderful. The pressing and the rubbing upon the former fraudster's back forced silent moans from Kelly's mouth. She heard a quiet feminine giggle behind her as the luxurious rubbing continued. "Walda was a fast learner when my wife instructed her in the art of the massage, maid," Leonard explained. "She will be your instructor when the time comes for you to learn from her. How does it feel?" Kelly couldn't help but flash a satisfied smile over the rubbing she was receiving. "Ohhhh...it...this feels...s-soooooo good...." "Next week, after your lessons are done, I will expect you to make me feel as good as Walda is making you feel right now," Leonard then gestured for Walda to step over to him, and the rubbing stopped. When Walda stepped over to stand beside Leonard, Kelly initially saw a sinfully attractive girl wearing a skimpy, whorish lavender one-piece lycra dress covered by a matching, transparent robe made of a gauzy material. Walda's fingernails were long and French-cut, and also had the same lavender color as the outfit. Walda had whorish makeup on her face, and her full head of wildly-teased hair gave her a jersey girl- style coif. She emitted the scent of a spicy perfume as she passed Kelly, grinning as she turned to face the former man. It was then that Kelly noticed that the skimpy lycra dress had a design which completely exposed Walda's small, diminished genitalia, revealing that she, too, was once a man. The surprised look on Kelly's face made Walda giggle amusedly. Leonard similarly found amusement in Kelly's reaction as he gestured once again to Walda, who practically draped herself over Evangeline's husband, wrapping her slim arms around him in an embrace, effectively sitting in his lap. Kelly then saw the first two fingers of Leonard's right hand slip into Walda's anus, causing the lavender-clad she-male to utter an excited moan. "This one used to be an aspiring scientist," The bald black man explained as he wiggled his submerged fingers around, causing Walda to moan passionately. "I managed to discover what it was she enjoyed more than mere science, and all I had to do...was to wiggle my fingers." Wiggling them again, Walda once again reacted, her body quivering with lust as she began to quietly pant, still clutching the dominant black man's body. "Is she...joining us tomorrow, sir?" Kelly asked. Leonard nodded. "She is my personal plaything, after all. I am looking forward to seeing what she looks like in pink," He then leaned forward towards Kelly. "You should look just as precious, little maid." Kelly bit her bottom lip as she blushed. "Yes, sir." Another squeal of pleasure from Walda indicated that she was once again being anally provoked. The former scientist clutched to Leonard tightly as her body quivered. "Mmmm, living in a city like Bullchester is awfully liberating," Leonard observed as he rubbed a hand through Walda's hair as she moaned, keeping his eyes on Kelly as he grinned. "Do you not agree, maid?" "I..." Kelly had a contrary thought in her mind, but it quickly disappeared. "...y-yes, sir." Leonard smirked. "You should be grateful that this was your fate, fraudster...or would you rather that we turn you over to the Feds?" "NO! No...nonono..." The former man's eyes widened, raising her hands in restraint as she whined. "...please don't!" "Oh?" Leonard raised an eyebrow, grinning wickedly. "So you'd rather be a girly, simpering little sissy maid?" Kelly began fidgeting nervously. "I...I-I don't...know...I..." She sighed fretfully, hanging her head. A thoughtful look was on Leonard's face as he pulled his fingers out of Walda's nether region, leaving the feminized young man to pant exhaustedly after the pleasuring she had received from her Master. He then gestured to Kelly, compelling Walda to grin lasciviously. She then stepped over to the fidgeting maid, going behind her. "Keep your eyes on me, and me alone, maid," Leonard intoned as he moved closer to Kelly, who stared meekly up at the taller, brown- skinned man as Walda placed her effeminate hands...the fingers of which were tipped with French-cut, dark purple-painted fingernails...on Kelly's shoulders. "I am not going to hurt you," Leonard's hands freed Kelly's hair of any restraints as he spoke, allowing her head of shoulder-length, loosened hair to drop down as Walda's hands slipped off of Kelly's shoulders. "I am not going to judge you. But you must serve me, and my wife, for the rest of your days." "But...I thought...I was just gonna learn how to be a maid here," Kelly remarked, looking confused. "You are going to learn how to be our maid, little one," Leonard corrected. "You should find the experience...penetrating." At this, Kelly felt a lubricated object go into the hole in her posterior. Her eyes widened as she gasped in her surprise. The former male began to turn his head towards Walda... ...but Leonard grabbed Kelly's head by the chin. "I said look at me, fraudster! Do not take your eyes off of me!" He growled. "You said you wouldn't hurt me!" Kelly whined fearfully as she felt the object...which had to be some kind of rubber dildo...go into and out of her anus. Leonard smiled. "I did not say I would not penetrate you, maid." At first, the lubricated length of thick latex felt uncomfortable as Walda continued to gleefully pump it into Kelly... ...but in that long moment of staring into Leonard's eyes, and as the larger man began caressing Kelly's face softly, the former fraudster's eyes began to narrow. The intimidation factor, and the lubricated friction at her anus, was beginning to stimulate her. She could feel her cocklette becoming stiff as she panted lightly. "A taste of the rewards you get for serving us well, maid," Leonard noted. Leonard began to ponder the prize in front of him as Kelly began to get accustomed to her pleasuring. A contemplative look was now on his face. This waif needs a few more pounds on her. Leonard thought to himself. X: Pink Persuasions This was the agreed-upon title of the event Rita Noble had cultivated, and only hours before its official implementation. Past party invites simply called it the Pink Party, but on a quick chat session between Agatha and Rita, the party became known as Pink Persuasions. Maggie, the resident manager at Cincher's, looked very impressive in her status as a dominant figure. She had chosen to have herself appear as a Victorian-era Headmistress, wearing a puffy-sleeved white blouse, a tight black corset, and a long black skirt. She had gathered her hair into a tightly-wrapped sock bun at the top of her head, while a pair of glasses sat upon her nose. She appropriately had an old school disciplinary paddle in one hand as she walked around, making last- minute preparations. Her last check on the staff members who were expected to perform for the party...among them bubble-headed blonde Debby Bliss and her sultry partner, Lenore...indicated that they were all just as pink-clad, and pink-coiffed, as the submissive guests were expected to be, as she had submitted them all to receive full makeovers at the Butterfly Salon on threat of termination if any of them failed to honor their appointments. They all honored their visits, however, and a couple of the more recent hires were going down for the first time, as well, thrilled to be pampered on the club's exclusive dime. The Butterfly Salon itself had been insanely busy in the build-up to the Pink Persuasions party. Madames had submitted the various subjects of their unique feminizing influence for the required party makeover. Grace Lees brought Liz Zambrano. Barbara Walsh brought Annie Merrywether...a busty blonde who used to be Pamela Merrywether's young son, Stanley...in for her own pink makeover. Vije Nastassje more privately submitted Fifi and Ron for their hair work. All of the Madames were given options to add mental reworkings as well, which guests like Vije and Evangeline Pierson were quick to take advantage of. This was certainly a necessity for her husband, who felt that their new maid, Kelly, required some subliminals to develop her further along the path he wanted the former fraudster to take. He also paid extra to have her body develop the extra weight he had wanted to add. At the same time, Agatha had arranged for Julia Stroud to field an important Press Conference around rumors and reports of terrorist activity within Bullchester. It would be a particularly grueling...and attention-diverting...Q&A session for the Mayoress, as she would also be grilled on possible connections to the leader of a human trafficking ring led by the Grecian criminal Demetrius Konstantinos, who had been found and killed by Federal agents in a successful sting operation. The only guest who had not been brought to the Salon for a makeover was Tamara Portnoy, who between Barbara Walsh and Rita Noble had already been prepared for the event. Her hair was already pink(with blond highlights), and Rita had already purchased her very skimpy outfit. Olivia Tench had prepared some of her girls accordingly. Twinkle's tight curls were now bright pink curls, and Jellybean now had a bright pink mane flowing down from her academically deficient head. As Emily Braithwaite was more or less already a Madame, she was spared the distinction of getting a makeover. She even had a submission of her own: a thoroughly feminized young man whose name was now Coco. Alongside Coco would be her now sultry-looking best friend and partner, Alexis. As they were still in the process of becoming Madames, Mabel Burlington had submitted Priscilla Primrose and Ginger Harrogate to the pink makeover, although their coifs and their skimpy pink outfits absolutely mirrored the 50s-era housewives they were well on their way to becoming. Mabel figured that if they were going to do another Pink Persuasions event the following year, that Priscilla and Ginger would no longer be among the party guests required to receive pink makeovers, and would perhaps have subjects of their own to be covered in pink. As both Maggie Katzhoff and Jemima Poulson were mysteriously incommunicado, they would also be exceptions. Jemima's absence was particularly noted to Agatha, but the figurehead of the great conspiracy dismissed such concerns for reasons she would not reveal. Agatha also made sure that Celeste Richards would be excluded, as the scheming matriarch felt she could no longer be trusted. She secretly had Petal...another no-show...enforce this. Jemima's friend and ex-girlfriend...Neale Cozens, who was now a simpering sissy, and the much more simple-minded airhead Paula Clements had become...were brought in by Doris Gatland, a resident of the apartment building the Sisterhood had appropriated, which had forever changed the lives of Jemima, Neale, and Paula. The Lady Rosemary Dolan was also among the invited guests, and she had chosen to bring Alison Jacobs with her, since Rosemary's influence had altered the young man he used to be...Aaron Jacobs...to become the gifted female Aaron had become. Rosemary chose to come in her own stunning Victorian era-inspired black dress, complete with a veiled hat, while Alison was wearing a skimpy pink dress to go with her bright pink hair, which was arranged in a Victorian coif. Staff members of the Butterfly Salon were also expected to pack in at the party, and it was expected to be a potential reunion of sorts between Alison and Butterfly staff member Donna, who was once Aaron's brother Gordon. Rosemary could hardly wait to see the initial reaction to the two of them reuniting. As much as Gemma Schultz found the idea of going to such a party revolting, she was nevertheless compelled to join the party as the pinked guest of Irene Moore, who she had once served as a housemaid. Irene would also have a sweet old woman named Ethel with her as well, who was once Pamela's husband, Cameron Merrywether. Lois Fryer was also expected to show up. Although she had wanted to have Tamara Portnoy be her pinked guest, she was disappointed to hear that Julia Stroud's secretary-to-be was already spoken for. On a lark, she had Lena go in for a pink makeover. A handful of Madames chose to go in without pinked subjects. Among them was the notoriously flirtatious Sisterhood agent Hayley McKinley. Agatha herself would have no subjects at her hip, either. Stella Primrose would likewise show up solo. As it was with the highly successful Halloween event, the Pink Persuasions party had all the makings of a major opening-night gala, with the prevailing theme making it possible for all the Madames and Debutantes in attendance to show off their requisite conquests. All the men they had feminized and/or sex-changed into becoming their submissive slaves. All the women who had dared to cross the Sisterhood, only to wind up joining the ranks of the subjugated. Among these latter cases was the formerly inquisitive and paranoid teenager, Charlene Merrywether, who after her capture had been given a sultry, feline-like appearance and figure at the behest of her girlfriend, Nicola. Cher even wore a pink headband with plastic cat ears on it. Whereas she once conspired to having an army of Federal agents raid the Sisterhood's operations, Cher was now eagerly looking forward to being Nicola's "cute pink kitty" at the party. Unbeknownst to everyone, Agatha and Rita had already agreed to make the Pink Persuasions event an annual occurrence. It was to be the night when Bullchester showed off just how dominant a force the Sisterhood was in the city... ...and how far those who had tried to cross them had fallen. * * * In the daytime hours before the party was to begin, Tamara Portnoy had come out of yet another stimulating dream. As Rita had more or less battered down the counter-programming that had "repaired" Tamara, the plus-sized former boy found herself lost in yet another lurid dream, in which Tammy Porntoy was led around on a leash throughout Bullchester by Rita Noble. She looked exactly the way she did in her first Rita-influenced nightmare, back when she was Timmy Portnoy. Here, Rita fed her jelly-based sweets which eroded her mind a little at a time. Tamara woke up moaning and writhing, with one hand rubbing at her clit, and the middle finger of her other hand in her mouth, reawakening the old habit Rita had implanted into her subconscious. Once she had gone to orgasm from her initial bit of self-pleasuring, her mind seemed to restore itself a bit, allowing Tamara to recover. She spent the day wearing the strip-based pink outfit Rita had gotten for her, and she was barefoot as she walked around the house. Two cups of coffee helped her to re-establish some semblance of lucidity, but she still had lustful thoughts...and Rita...on her mind. She wondered if it would continue to be worth fighting her. The rationale of the 'why' re-manifested. Turning herself over to Rita, if only to give her what she wanted, would certainly save her the efforts of resisting her, and if Maggie's attempts at fixing the plus-sized woman Timothy Portnoy had become ultimately failed... ...and where was Maggie, her sinful id quietly wondered? She's been gone longer than you thought! She may have forgotten you! You're a citizen of Bullchester now, and the Sisterhood is in charge here! GIVE IN TO FATE! You'll thank yourself for it! Yet again, however, Tamara's sensible id kept up its resistance as she stared at a picture of her mother, Ruth. No. Tambo's fighting this to the bitter end. I can't let Rita... The name gave her sensible id a reason to pause, fighting the renewed urges. ...I...can't let...Rita... Even thinking of Rita's name was stirring something inside her. ...ohhh, Rita...Madame Noble... A hand once again went to her nether region, where she began rubbing. A few minutes later, she was panting heavily as memories of the previous evening being close to Rita compelled her to orgasm once again. As her home was a little messy from the activities of last night, and with cum stains moistening parts of the floor and the carpets, Tamara spent the rest of the day...after her shower, and the sweet-scented enema treatment that followed...cleaning up the house, restoring it to a prim and proper state. She thought about changing into her latex maid outfit, but she didn't want to take off the outfit Rita bought for her. As she was cleaning her house, her smartphone chimed its ringtone. Looking at the panel curiously, she hoped to see Rita Noble's name. Tamara's eyes widened in shock when she saw the name. It was Maggie! "Maggie?" Tamara curiously asked when she opened the connection. "Where...where are you? Are you back?" "Hey there, Tambo!" Maggie's voice answered, much to Tamara's relief. "Seems I need to stay away a little longer than expected. I got diverted. I can't go into the details. How have YOU been doing?" Tamara hung her head shamefully now. It was tough to put such a response into words. "I...I've been...better..." A long moment of silence followed. "Rita hasn't been fucking with you, has she?" The lie stung as Tamara spoke it. "Oh no, no...but, well...it's been more challenging than I imagined to, uh...to live here." "You know how I am, Tamara," Maggie chided. "I can't be there with you every step of the way. You're tough enough to deal with all of this on your own. Your time with Hank Fryer proved this. Thinking about that encounter should empower you. Whatever problems you have with people like Rita, you've got this. I believe in you." Tamara smiled. "Thanks, Maggs." "But on a related question..." Maggie continued. "...are you in on this big party I heard about that's supposed to happen at Cincher's? This...pink thing?" Tamara wanted to lie, but...she couldn't. She sighed in her resignation. "Yes. I...I'm among the guests." "Mmmm. I was afraid of that," Maggie replied. "I'd like to be able to change my plans, hon, but...it's impossible." "Why were you sent out to begin with?" Tamara asked. "You never told me." "It was actually a fun trip. More fun than I had imagined," Maggie gingerly explained. "I had to go out to Venice, Italy to bring back a guy the Sisterhood had feminized. Her name was Jemima. Jemima Poulson. I had to go and bring her, her mother, and my old friend Mr. Clean...you know, Professor X-Commando...back to Bullchester. I got to be the spectator in the wildest and the craziest love triangle I've ever seen in my life. Then Jem got hitched to this screwball Carabineri when she ran away...Goddess, I had so much fucking fun fucking with these people. I'm actually thinking of having the Carabineri sent to Bullchester so he can track Jem down and have a little reunion. Those two were made for each other, Tam-Tam." The mirth helped as Tamara giggled wildly. "Wish I had been there to watch!" "Yeah," Maggie thoughtfully responded. "So do I...but listen. Every badass has his or her fair share of pitfalls. It's how you bounce back that counts. You just have to keep the faith, hon. Don't lose sight of ol' number one, y' know? Sometimes, a solution will manifest itself if you let it...but even in the absence of one, always hold on to a little of yourself. Don't compromise it, no matter how hard the opposition tries. Know what I mean?" Tamara nodded as she listened. "I sure do, Madame Devil." "Oooh, I like the sound of that," Maggie chimed. There was something else Tamara felt compelled to explain to her empowering friend. "Maggie...I...should tell you that Larry let me go when he came back home after the funeral. I'm no longer his secretary." A moment of silence followed. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Maggie intoned. "I wish I were, but it's true," Tamara answered. "And...Julia Stroud wants me to be hers." "Oh, really?" Maggie emphatically remarked. "Bad enough that Rita's messing with your mind. I should shorten Julia's reign for..." "No, no, wait," Tamara interjected. "I'm thinking strategically here. Besides...I wonder if you're aware that Julia is on our side? She mentioned becoming associated with our mutual friend, Grace." "Aaaaaand...how am I supposed to believe you're not saying this because Julia grabbed your arm and fed you some mind-fuckery?" Maggie warily asked. "Because she hasn't touched me since that day at Larry's office," Tamara explained. "She had me in her limo, and she kept her hands to herself. Honestly? Having her in our corner is a major plus if you ask me, Maggie." "Mmmm," Maggie seemed to think on this. "It's not enough. We're talking about a bona-fide angel who can seriously mess up your day just by brushing a hand over your cheek. You need a backup plan, Tamara. If you're serious about taking her job offer, I wouldn't trust her to keep her hands to herself. Although now that I think of it..." Her voice trailed off a bit. "...maybe my words to her did make a dent." Tamara frowned. "Words?" Maggie giggled. "Impromptu ride I gave her when I, uh...supplanted her driver. I still think you need a backup plan. Even though we're all on Grace's team. Think outside the box, if you have to...and for fuck's sake, be careful at this pink party thing. Sounds like a fluff kind of shindig. Wonder who's idea it was." Tamara shrugged. "Damned if I know." "Well...soldier on, Tambo. I have to run," Maggie remarked. "Don't forget what I told you. Always keep a little of yourself in you, or you're gonna be nothing more than the sextoy Rita wants, and I know you don't want that." Tamara tried to make her response sound convincing. "No, of...of course not." "You're my badass out there, booty-babe! I'll see you soon. I promise!" Maggie chimed. "Bye, Maggie." Tamara then cleared the line and stowed away her smartphone. She then went to acquire the cleaning formula that was necessary to get rid of the cum stains, and she diligently went over these spots as thoroughly as possible until they were non-existent. Thoughts of how well she did when she dealt with Hank Fryer played over and over in her mind... ...but she was actually replaying the moment when Hank had his hands on her. When he had a finger digging into her butt. When she rubbed her thigh against his. When she very nearly surrendered herself to him. What would it have been like? Her sinful id mused. Would it have been so bad to have been Hank Fryer's provocative little porntoy, Tammy? It would have given you a thrill to always be used like that, whenever he wanted to be with you. Don't lie! This mental image developed into a daydream of being at the center of a hot and heavy orgy. One where the air was sensually humid and sweaty bodies were rubbing against one another. Tamara was the obvious subject of this orgy as she was being groped and penetrated wherever she could. And she was loving every lusty, steamy minute of it. This time, however, she resisted the urge to masturbate. The sweet scents of the formula she used to clean the floors reminded her of how inconvenient it would be for her to clean her own floor more than once. It then dawned on her that she didn't need to cut loose with her building stimulations in the middle of the house, but in a far more convenient place that would be much easier to cleanse. As Tamara began to masturbate within the shower stall, she could feel the humidity rise around her. The mental images of the orgy were stronger now, and much more vivid as she continued to provoke herself, rubbing in such a hot and bothered manner that she could smell her own breath within the stall. The mirrors in the bathroom began to fog up as she panted and rubbed. Once her cum gushed forth once again, she chose to lie down upon her own cum stains, rolling around in them until much of her body was covered in her own juices. She had stripped down naked before going into the stall, so she didn't need to worry about soiling the strips that made up her outfit. Her pink-treated hair was now fully moistened, as if she had just finished taking a shower. Goddess... Tamara thought to herself. ...I need a dildo...or a big, warm, veiny cock...it's been so long... Tamara lingered in the space of the bathtub for a long moment before she rose to her feet, and turned on the shower faucet so she could rinse off the cum that was all over her body. Once it was all gone, she went to acquire one of the citrus-scented body wash mixes that was in her dresser...the ones Rita had gotten for her...and lathered herself over with it, giving her naked body a glossy sheen once she had rinsed the soap off. Once she had the strip-based pink outfit back on her perpetually moist body, Tamara went back downstairs... ...and when she went into the Living Room, she saw Rita Noble standing there, grinning up to her. "It's time to go, slut," Rita purred. * * * TEXT MESSAGE FROM: SHELLEY PORTNOY Rita - I hate to do this to you, but...Sandra and I can't make it all to that party tonight. The both of us have a really, REALLY bad stomach ache. I don't know if it was something we ate or drank, but we've been throwing up all over the place and we're still feeling these horrible cramps in our guts. I know you said tonight was very important, but I don't want either of us to ruin the party over us spending the night vomiting all over th Sorry...I had to heave again. It's that bad. I hope Sandra and I can make it up to you. Hope you have a nice party! Talk to you Monday. We'll be there bright and early. Assuming we don't literally puke our guts out by then. * * * Rita and Tamara had gotten there about an hour earlier than everyone else, as it turned out. As Rita literally caught Tamara coming out of the shower, giving her "blind date" no time at all to fix her head of blond-highlighted pink hair, Rita figured she'd shape it herself using a supply of hair care products she had with her. When they arrived at Cincher's, they saw that the well-built Bouncer was wearing a tight, sleeveless pink shirt. Standing next to him was Maggie in her Headmistress outfit. When Rita stopped before Maggie, the debutante had Tamara...who was barefoot...lower to her knees. "Invites, please," Maggie requested, easily losing herself in her authoritative role. Rita provided the invites as Tamara waited. She felt Rita's hand rub at her hair as she waited. "Has this one been a good girl today?" Maggie asked, cradling the wooden paddle she had with her in both hands. "Actually, her hair doesn't look right," Rita mused. "She lives alone. She had all the time in the world to prepare herself, and her hair was an incomplete mess by the time I arrived to pick her up." Tamara kept her eyes angled to the ground, blushing deeply. "I see," Maggie answered. "Is there a special name you have given her?" Rita shrugged. "Oh, I just call her...slut." She placed her typical emphasis and intonation on the word. Tamara heard Maggie's heels step next to her. "Assume the position, slut," Maggie commanded. "Stick your ass out." Tamara lowered her upper body to the ground, making her bare posterior prominent. She knew what Maggie was going to do, and she took a deep breath in advance of the first impact. "How many will satisfy you?" Maggie asked. "Five," was Rita's response. Tamara filled her lungs with another deep breath...and the first blast smacked on her posterior hard. "One," The plus-sized submissive called out. Smirking, the manager of the club sent another solid blow to Tamara's huge posterior, forcing a groan from the young woman. "Two." I deserve this. Tamara lamented to herself. I'm such a lowly, dirty slut. Madame Noble said so. The paddle crashed upon Tamara's cheeks once again. Her moan was filled with lust. The pain was oddly stimulating now. "Three." Maggie made dramatic flourishes with every swing. Other guests were beginning to exit their vehicles, and they were hurrying over to watch the scene as the paddle smacked into Tamara's fleshy ass once again. "AAHhmmmph...Fff-ffour!" Rita was getting particularly hot and bothered. In her eyes, she wasn't watching Tamara Portnoy getting paddled. She was seeing Brock Portnoy get his just desserts for putting her through all that harrowing torment at Camp Awohali. She began to pant heavily as she watched Tamara receive the strikes to her impressively large butt. The final strike was the hardest, and Tamara cried out once the hard wooden paddle impacted the plus-sized, pink-haired woman's flesh. "AAAHhhfff-fffive!" Rita's eyes were slits now as Maggie began to step away. The debutante moved to the club manager and immediately seized the paddle. "Give me that!" she growled. Rita then hurried over to Tamara and sent another blow to her submissive guest's posterior, producing another whimper. She then struck Tamara's butt seven more times, feeling a palpable sense of satisfaction with every stroke. Rita had a look of fury in her face as she panted from the exhaustion, crouching before her guest, who was also panting in recovery from her stinging, bright red ass. "What are you to me?? TELL ME!!" "I...I-I'm your slut!" Tamara weakly responded. "LOUDER!!" Rita yelled. "I'M YOUR SLUT!!" Tamara cried out. "I'm your lowly, dirty little slut...a-and I love it...!" "That's right," a grinning Rita sternly confirmed, handing the paddle back to Maggie. "Crawl behind me now, slut. We're going in." As she went inside, a chime heralded the sending of a text message to her smartphone, which she pulled out so she could read the message that had been sent by Shelley Portnoy as Tamara crawled behind her. A line began to form outside once the show was over. At the front of the line were the observers of Tamara's corporal punishment: Barbara Walsh, Annie Merrywether, Doris Gatland, Neale Cozens, Paula Clements, Nicola Kapper, Charlene Merrywether, Mabel Burlington, Priscilla Primrose, and Ginger Harrogate. "My, oh my," Priscilla mused to Ginger. "That one must have been really naughty." "Mmmm," Charlene cooed. "I bet it hurt soooo good." "Maybe I should paddle you like that someday, Cher," Nicola mused. "Let everyone know what a bad kitty you used to be." Charlene giggled. "Bring it on." "Wow..." Annie Merrywether turned to Barbara Walsh. "...that woman's butt was big." "About as big as your teats, Annie dear," Barbara cooed back, compelling a giggle from the both of them. Inside, Rita guided Tamara to the nearest bathroom, where she had her pink-haired guest rise up so she could go to work on Tamara's hair while she recovered from the paddling. Placing a pair of tight rubber gloves on her hands, Rita applied a second coat of the pink hair coloring, removing all of the blond highlights until Tamara's hair was completely pink. As it dried, she shaped the hair to a slutty hairstyle Rita deemed appropriate. The entire time, Rita had an angry expression on her face, but it wasn't because of Tamara. She was completely pissed over the text she had received from Shelley Portnoy about the no-show. The moment when Tamara was to meet Shelley was to be the cherry topping on what was supposed to be a grand night for the debutante. Now that this was impossible, all she could do was make sure Tamara got as much sex as possible during the evening. Having as many Madames and debutantes have their way with the woman that used to be Brock Portnoy's young son. Rita texted back about getting a copy of a Doctor's report regarding their ailments. Failure to do so would result in more than their respective terminations. Threatening their jobs would only be the beginning of the torment she would put Tamara's sisters through. A compact hair dryer was pulled out next as Rita began applying the blasts of hot air to Tamara's head, stabilizing the hairstyle within 15 minutes. Once Tamara's hair was completely dry, Rita went back out and settled herself at the club's main bar. Tamara crawled along behind her. Once the debutante was seated at a bar stool, Tamara knelt beside her. She could still feel a bit of the sting from the paddling she had received. Looking around, Tamara saw that the place was certainly decorated in emphasis of the color theme. She saw a busty young performer come out who was covered, head to toe, in shimmering pink glitter. This was one of the Altared Boyz, who were due to perform during the event. As they both waited, they heard the familiar-sounding slaps of a wooden paddle against bare flesh. It seemed that once again, Maggie's brand of corporal discipline was necessary. Rita then rose from her bar stool, and gestured for Tamara to follow her. The plus-sized woman crawled along behind her until she was briefly pulled back to her feet to ascend a staircase. Once she was on the second floor landing, Tamara descended back on all fours and continued following the debutante. They both went into one of the private rooms, and Rita gestured for her to kneel beside one of the chairs. "Stay in here, slut. I?m going to bring people up to see you. Don?t go anywhere unless you need to use the toilet. Understand?" "Yes, Madame Noble," Tamara replied. "I?ll bring you up a drink or two later," Rita noted as she went back out of the room, and descended the staircase. She then returned to the bar and waited, a devious smile on her face. That little whore is going to become a quivering puddle of lust by the time the night?s done. Rita mused to herself as she sipped from a drink...a Sex on the Beach...that she had requested, and received. Ten minutes before the guests were to be let in, the resident DJ...Jackie Fontanelle, whose misogynistic personality earned him a visit from Hayley McKinley, who began feminizing him...began playing the music set of the evening. Guests began entering to the tune of "This Woman?s World" by Kate Bush. Barbara Walsh and Annie Merrywether were the first ones into the party space. Annie gazed around the area in awe of the palace-like splendor of the club?s largely pink interiors. When Barbara arrived at the bar, Annie lowered to her knees as the Midwife ordered drinks for them both. She logically chose to sit next to Rita for conversation and gossip?s sake. Agatha had also made her way inside, and she quietly went right upstairs to a private room, carrying a computer tablet with her. She chose a room other than the one Rita had placed Tamara in, however. This compelled the debutante to smirk in her amusement. The main party space began to fill up quickly as the music continued. In an hour, the first planned bit of entertainment for the evening was to go onstage, this being a racy and provocative performance by Debby and Lenore. Many eyes marveled at the black-clad, veiled presence that the Lady Rosemary displayed upon entering the party space. At her hip was the barefoot and pink-clad blonde known as Alison Jacobs, who gazed around a bit nervously as she meekly followed behind the noblewoman. Evangeline Pierson and Leonard Hardcastle later penetrated the party space, with their own four-person entourage in skimpy pink clothes and bare feet: Prototypes A and B, Walda, and their very nervous-looking maid, Kelly. Hayley McKinley and Stella Primrose, by circumstance, entered together, engaging in a bit of small talk before beginning their individual minglings. Entering after them were Irene Moore and the pink-clad, curly-haired old woman that was Ethel Merrywether, followed by residents of the Golden Sunshine Retirement Home who had regained a measure of their youth by way of the establishment?s rejuvenating pink water system. Rosa was there, as was Maude and Blanche. Maude had a sissified young man named Nigel with her, while another subjugated man named Simon followed Rosa inside. By the time the first performance of the night was to begin, the place was completely packed, and there were already mistresses, debutantes, and madames showing off those they had feminized and subjugated. Those who were barefoot, and clad in pink, mingled largely with one another. Rosemary was quick to re-acquaint Alison with Donna, and she watched as they began to chat each other up. The noblewoman found Donna?s reactions amusing whenever Alison placed a hand on the girl that used to be Aaron?s brother, Gordon. Donna looked flustered, and a hand went to her head in confusion. Obviously, Donna was feeling the buzz of Alison?s uniquely-empowered touch. She wondered what things Alison was telling Donna while she was in contact with the Butterfly Salon employee. Five minutes before the first performance began, eyes gravitated towards yet another entourage: Vije Nastassje had arrived, and she had two barefoot and pink guests with her. Fifi followed with the tall, waifish fashion industry advocate at her left, while a pink-haired young man, covered from head to toe in a pink latex outfit, was to her right. Vije scanned around as she walked in, and once she spotted Rita Noble, she moved towards the debutante, who was in the midst of talking to fellow debutante Judith Newlington. Rita had a lascivious grin on her face as she spoke to Judith. "You should come upstairs with me during the show. I have a mutual friend that I need to re-acquaint yo..." Her eyes had diverted to Vije, who now towered over Rita. The crafty debutante considered having her go up with them. "...oh, hello, Vije. Good to see you ag..." Like a lethal snake firing forward to bite its prey, Vije?s lips pressed against Rita?s. She then moved into the space between Judith and Rita, completely ignoring the former. "Hi, Ri-taa," Vije cooed, already leaning against her. "How you?" "Uhhh...fine," Rita responded. "I was...just in the middle of a conversation with..." "We here all night, yes?" Vije noted, still grinning. "Make time for Vije." "Um, well...okay." Rita smiled, a bit nervously. "I suppose I can make...a bit of time." Vije gestured to the stage. "Watch show first." Although Judith felt a little put out over Vije?s rudeness, she nevertheless diverted her attention to the stage as Maggie went up to introduce the first performance. "Welcome, one and all, to the first annual Pink Persuasion party here at Cincher?s!" Maggie announced, receiving a loud round of applause in response. "I see so many of the finest and the greatest of Bullchester citizens in the crowd tonight...a veritable who?s-who of celebrities, movers, and shakers...and even a few of you who have been a little naughty," She wagged her paddle in emphasis of this. "I hope you?ve learned your lesson outside before coming in!" Nigel rubbed his butt over the paddling he had received, and he blushed deeply. Although Jellybean had also received a paddling, she didn?t care for the stings afterward. She was too air-headed to care. "We have a last-minute guest coming down to join us a little later in the evening, as well. She?s the hostess of the Merry Weather Show herself, Pamela Merryweather!" Many ?oohs? and ?aahs? could be heard within the crowd at this announcement, particularly from those who used to be her husband, and her two offspring. "For now, however, we have a particularly racy act to kick things off tonight. Ever since they first paired up, there have been erect cocks all over the place, especially when they come off the stage to play with the patrons a little. Tonight, they ask the question, who is the dominant, and who is well and truly pink? Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...Debby Bliss, and Lenore!" As another loud round of applause came from the crowd, Grace Lees and her barefoot and scantily pink-clad guest, Elizabeth Zambrano, quietly slipped in as the lights dimmed, and spotlights flared to life to highlight Debby and Lenore, who came out together. Both were dressed as a pair of very sultry debutantes. During the act, they tried to out-dominate each other in a dance-style fashion until one of them pulls on the other?s hair, revealing that a wig was covering a full head of pink hair on Debby?s head, revealing her to be the submissive of the two... ...until Debby pulls off Lenore?s hair, revealing that she, too, is a pinked submissive. They remove articles of the other?s clothing until they are both in skimpy pink outfits, ending the act in an alluring embrace. The applause they received was loud, and very appreciative. During the act, Grace tried to be as inconspicuous as possible in making her appearance. She knew that somewhere in the mob of people, Agatha would be lurking. She obviously hoped that a confrontation was not impending. Elizabeth followed close behind, a little nervous over the mass of bodies in the room. The blond benefactor scanned around for Tamara, but she was obviously nowhere to be found. She did see Rita at the bar sharing what looked to be an amusingly awkward conversation with the alien-looking Vije Nastassje, though. That?s it, sweetie. Grace mused to herself as she smirked. Keep that witch occupied. You both look like you were made for each other anyway. "Eez good show, yes?" Vije cooed right into Rita?s ear. "Make you think. We all have Meestress...and slave...inside us all." Rita swallowed hard. Being this close to Vije was...strangely exciting to her. Was it because she looked so unusual? That Rita was somehow attracted to the unusual? Rita just nodded, trying to hide the effect Vije was having on her. "Uhh...yes. Yes, it was...good...performance." Vije?s lips now hovered very close over Rita?s "Which one are you right now, I wonder?" She pressed her body against the debutante alluringly, while slipping a hand to the back of her neck. "I know you like de freaks. You like Vije. I see in your eyes." Rita?s eyes shot open in her horror as she felt a sting at the back of her neck. Oh Goddess, no...a fucking TEAR DUCT!! What...? Her mind, however, began a slow and evident dissolve as Rita stared into the eyes of Vije. They were all she could stare at in that moment. Her muscles, tense with fear, slowly relaxed as her mind softened. "I-I?m a Debutante," Rita fearfully whispered, her voice trembling. "You...you can?t...!" "We freaks, Ri-ta," Vije purred as Rita?s eyes narrowed passionately. "You fly. I spider. Come to parlor. Vije hungry." Grace grinned wide as she watched Vije pull a dazed-looking Rita Noble away from the bar. Her eyes followed them to a back area where they continued their sensual schmoozing. Elizabeth, on the other hand, chose to step out onto the dance floor as a Shakira tune played. As she moved, a radically-shaped woman...one who was not among the pinked...danced alongside her. As they moved, the woman?s eyes were constantly on her, and Liz practically felt it. A knot of worry inside her began to grow as the song continued. The woman had what could only be described as a literal hourglass figure. Large breasts, a huge ass, and the only thing covering it was a short, strapless dark brown lycra dress. Her long black hair went through a ring at the top of her head, and spilled down straight behind her. Liz smiled nervously, seeing the woman?s obviously hungry expression. The song switched to a slow beat. Liz offered a smile in her attempt to quietly ?take a break?... ...but the woman grabbed her and held her close, smiling lasciviously. "No, no, my little pink cherub," The woman sensually intoned. "You don?t get to walk away from Madame Olivia so quickly. We?re dancing some more." As much as Liz wanted to protest, she knew what her position was in this party. She had to ride it out. She had to draw the line, however, if Olivia wanted to do anything rough. Still, the pinked former young man worried over how this would end up. "Please be nice, Madame Olivia...I...I have kids..." "Neither of which are here, cherub," Olivia purred. "I?m feeling very, very frisky tonight. Must be all the pink." So far, it wasn?t bad. In fact, being this close to Olivia was easing her stress a little. She decided to go with it, if only for a little while. Near where they were dancing, a well-built man with the figure of a dancer held a petite-looking young woman close to him. On the sidelines, Denise, the mother of Jacqueline Ross...formerly Jake Ross...smiled in her satisfaction, seeing her ballerina daughter react so vividly to being as close as she was to her European dance partner, Mikel Kryzak. Grace?s eyes re-acquired Liz, only to find her in the arms of Olivia Tench, the Madame from the new lingerie store called Mistresses. This was potentially bad news. If Olivia remained with Liz for the rest of the night, there was a chance Grace could lose her to Olivia, and the blond Madame couldn?t do that to a single mom. Especially one who had just become an instructor for potential Debutantes. But how to get Olivia away from her? She had to recollect what she knew about Olivia...or better yet, her girls. She had brought an entourage with her. Grace could only hope that Olivia didn?t have any Tear Ducts on her as she continued slow-dancing with Liz. I?m a Madame. Grace reasoned to herself. I brought her. I have control over her. The only risk was that she could be spotted by Agatha. It would be game over from there if she moved in. Agatha, however, was clearly not visible within the mob. The risk was worth it, though. Elizabeth, after all, had kids. Grace moved towards the dance floor, keeping her eyes on Olivia and Liz. When Olivia?s peripheral vision caught Grace, she turned her eyes toward the blond Madame, as did Liz. "My guest, Olivia," Grace firmly remarked. "I feel like dancing with someone," She extended a hand towards the Madame?s pink partner. "Liz?" Elizabeth immediately took Grace?s hand. A relieved smile was on her face. "Yes, Madame Grace." Olivia smirked, shrugging as she stepped away. She did angle her head back over to Liz and Grace as they began dancing to yet another slow beat. Grace?s lips moved close to Liz?s ear. "Why don?t you go up and relax for a bit in one of the private rooms upstairs? I?ll join you after I?ve had my little chat with Madame Olivia." "I could use a rest break," Elizabeth replied. "Thank you, Madame Grace." Grace smiled back. "Never let it be said that I don?t know what?s best for you, dear." They continued to dance together to the remainder of the song as Olivia diverted to the bar, taking the seat that Rita Noble had vacated in favor of a hot and heavy moment between her and Vije Nastassje, the action of which had drawn a small crowd. Olivia kept her eyes on Liz, however. "Incredible..." Priscilla remarked as she stared at Vije and Rita writhing against each other in the open booth seat area. "...how could they be so..." The former Prentice Braithwaite then felt the hand of Ginger...who was once Grant Harrogate...grope at her diminished cock. Ginger?s eyes were staring at the loveplay between Vije and Rita. "...shameless...?" Priscilla swallowed hard. Priscilla?s head turned to Ginger, whose head had turned to her best friend. With a mutually hungry look in their eyes, they slowly began to make their way to a more private section of the club, seeing as how they were both feeling a bit frisky themselves. Olivia glanced over to where she knew her entourage had gathered, and saw that her young prot?g?, Cuddles, was standing beside Jellybean...who was on all fours, with her bared butt stuck out...as Maggie was paddling away at the brainless, dreadlocked bimbo blonde?s butt. Jellybean was uttering a mixture of moans and giggles as the club?s manager was paddling her. Cuddles seemed to be getting a personal thrill over what Maggie was doing. When the song switched to a more upbeat tempo, Grace released Elizabeth and had her go upstairs to the private room. As she watched Liz ascend, she finally spotted Agatha coming out of another private room...one Liz had passed...and was about to descend the stairs. Grace immediately concealed herself as best she could so she could stay out of sight as Agatha came down, her tablet under her arm. The grand conspirator had her tablet beneath her arm. Eyes and wits sharp as a hawk, Grace?s eyes followed Agatha over to where the action between Vije and Rita continued, giving Grace the chance to slip upstairs and head into the private room Agatha had vacated, just as the second performance...live music from the Altared Boyz, all of whom were completely covered, head to toe, in an extreme abundance of pink glitter powder, giving them a kind of alien appearance...was about to begin. As Agatha?s eyes were on Rita and Vije getting it on with each other, she did not notice Grace?s repositioning, which happened to be in the room next to where Elizabeth had gone into. Liz, however, found that the room she had picked was already occupied. * * * As Maggie introduced the Altared Boyz outside, Elizabeth stepped over to a large mirror in the private room to check herself out... ...and in the mirror?s reflection, she picked up on a similarly pinked, and plus-sized, female occupant taking a nap on the private room?s comfy couch. Slitted eyes went wide as Tamara spotted Elizabeth Zambrano turning to face her. She rose to a sitting position on the couch. Liz gestured to the door. "I can...go in the next room, if you need privacy." Tamara shook her head. "No, no, it?s okay. I was just...taking a little nap is all," She let out a yawn as she stretched out. "Been a crazy day for me. I?m feeling a little better now. Not so, well, jumped-up." "Seems to be a night for that kind of thing," Liz replied. "Everything?s all jumped-up out there." "Yeah," Tamara nodded in agreement. "And people like you and me are the ones getting jumped." Elizabeth giggled. "Welcome to Bullchester," she sarcastically noted. "Mmm. Great place for misogynists," Tamara mused aloud. In the next moment, they both started giggling over the intended mirth. At the same time, they both continued to stare at each other. In that pleasant moment, they were regarding each other?s beauty. Tamara found the pinked woman in front of her very attractive, and not in a particularly sinful way. Elizabeth felt similarly as her own gaze lingered on Tamara. "I?m Elizabeth," the single mother then remarked. "Elizabeth Zambrano." Tamara smiled pleasantly. "I?m Tamara Portnoy." Elizabeth stepped towards the couch, still smiling. "Nice to meet you, Tamara." "I wasn?t always Tamara, of course." "That?s okay." Elizabeth settled herself onto the couch space next to her new friend. "I wasn?t always Elizabeth Zambrano. I used to be Edward Wilson." Tamara nodded. "Who, um...who made you, if you don?t mind my asking?" Liz sighed. "Madame Grace. I was just coming back home after going to school outside of Bullchester. My mom looked sooooo different. Like she was ready for a strip club or something. Then Grace pulled me aside, and...well..." She indicated her feminine figure. "...things changed. Your turn. Who gave you those....really nice curves?" "It was an act of revenge. I used to be Timothy Portnoy," Tamara answered. "Only I didn?t do anything. Guilty by blood, by Madame Noble?s thinking. My father treated her like shit at a Summer Camp they both went to when they were younger. By the time she got in with the Sisterhood here, my father was already dead." "Oh my Goddess." Liz placed a hand on Tamara?s shoulder consolingly. "I?m so sorry. I didn?t mean to bring up bad memories." Tamara smiled. "Don?t feel bad. He was the epitome of the word ?misogynist?. Treated women like objects. He put my mother through a lot of hell, even as I was growing up alongside my older sisters. My sisters sided with Dad, while Mom doted on me. Anyway...since my Dad died..." "How did he die?" Liz asked. "Oh, he died in a Russian prison," Tamara responded. "He pissed off Russian mobsters after jilting a mail-order bride he was fucking after he divorced my Mom. I?m told they paid inmates to slice open his throat. When Rita found out about this, she learned that Brock had a son, and two sisters. Then she saw that a woman named Celeste had an interest in my mom and offered her a job out here in Bullchester. So we packed our things and left Woodhaven, New York to come out here." Liz nodded. "And Rita pounced on you by...blood proxy?" "Yup," Tamara confirmed. "I would have become her...um..." Tamara had to stop herself. Her sensible id figured that if she spoke it out loud, the plus-sized former boy would get all jumped up all over again. Liz, however, turned out to be understanding. "You don?t have to say it. I get the idea. What about your sisters?" "They went to an out-of-state College," Tamara replied. "They obviously don?t like me very much." Liz smirked. "Isn?t sibling rivalry a bitch?" Tamara nodded. "In my case, it?s times two." They shared another laugh over this. Tamara?s gaze lingered on Liz?s eyes as they both pleasantly smiled. "You smell really nice..." Tamara softly remarked. "...and...you look good in pink." Liz blushed a little, still smiling. "Thanks." "I...I don?t mean to imply anything, of course..." Tamara attempted to elaborate so her new friend would not get the wrong idea. "...I mean, we?re both in the same boat here..." Liz placed two fingers on Tamara?s lips gently. "I know. You look really nice in pink, too." Tamara found the sound of Liz?s voice very sweet. The pitch was pleasantly high. The plus-sized secretary wanted to hear more of it. Liz found Tamara?s company refreshing, and she found herself very attracted to Tamara?s body frame, and her wit. She wondered how Tamara felt about children in that moment. She also wondered what Sofia and Isabella would think of her new friend. "How do you feel about...um...being like this?" Tamara asked. "Being female? Or do you still have...you know..." She gestured to her loins. Liz shook her head, still smiling. "I don?t have one anymore. When I got married to Maniche in Ecuador, he paid to have it removed," She gestured to her breasts. "He also gave me these." "Implants?" Tamara felt a little stung upon hearing the word ?married?. "They...they look nice." Liz grinned. "Thanks." Tamara sighed. "Did you...come here with him tonight?" "No. Maniche died," Liz answered. "A few months ago. Grace brought me back to Bullchester. She promised to have my two darling children enrolled in the school here." "Really?" Tamara?s eyes widened in surprise. "You have kids?" "Adopted, but yes," Liz responded. "Five-year old Sofia, and Seven- year old Isabella." Tamara nodded, smiling. "Do you have pictures with you?" Liz shook her head. "No pockets on this skimpy little piece of nothing I?m wearing...but I?d love to show you sometime. Maybe we can meet up in the park sometime soon?" Tamara nodded again, still staring at Elizabeth. "I?d like that." Liz found Tamara?s eyes captivating as she stared back at them. A long moment of silence followed. Tamara broke the tender silence. "Goddess...you look really beautiful tonight, Elizabeth...and not just because of the implants." Elizabeth giggled sweetly. "That?s okay. Anyone ever tell you you?ve got a great little caboose there?" Tamara had to blush at this observation, looking down a bit. "Not the first time I?ve heard that kind of...compliment." "Oh, Goddess...listen to me. Commenting on your ass," Liz now blushed, looking away. "This party must be getting to me. All the paddling, all the crazy stuff going on out there..." Tamara looked back up to Liz, smiling. "I don?t mind. I mean, about...your compliment. I?ve been in Bullchester long enough to not let it faze me. Don?t worry." Liz brought her head back up to once again stare at Tamara?s eyes, smiling back. "I guess I?ve been...away...for awhile...y?know, Ecuador..." Tamara brought a hand up to extract a dislodged eyelash from beneath Elizabeth?s right eye. Liz gently pushed a loose strand of pink hair out of Tamara?s line-of- sight. She then brought her hand to gently rest against Tamara?s cheek. "You?re gorgeous," She quietly cooed. "I hope you don?t mind my staring. I can?t help it." Tamara slowly shook her head. "I don?t mind at all," She moved herself closer to Liz. "Stare as long as you like, Miss Zambrano." Liz tilted her head to the side, thoughtfully, as her hand continued to rub gently against Tamara?s cheek. "I...hope you don?t mind me calling you Miss Zambrano," Tamara softly remarked. "I can?t help it." Miss Zambrano. Liz thought to herself. I DO like the sound of that. The single mother?s head closed the distance between their lips a little. "C?mere," She quietly asserted. Their lips finally connected. The touches were gentle as they rubbed each other?s painted lips lovingly. Their arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace as their affections for each other grew, along with their inner excitement. She?s beautiful...she?s so beautiful... Tamara repeated to herself. ...oh, Goddess, yes...yes...she?s wonderful...I wanna know more about her...I...I wanna do anything for her... Any and all thoughts and inclinations towards Rita Noble seemed to evaporate in that moment. It was as if her problems with the vengeful Debutante became an afterthought. Tamara felt cleansed as her genuine love for Elizabeth Zambrano became more and more palpable. They briefly broke the kiss, bringing their heads back a bit to stare into each other?s eyes once again, panting in their mutual passion, wondering, in that moment, if it was all real. That this was meaningful. That this was nothing but a brief fling. A momentary surrender of pent-up passions. But it was definitely more than that. There would be no apologies. No retreating this moment. This was love. Real, actual, and genuine love. They both felt it. They could see it in each other?s eyes. This was REAL. They once again connected their lips, moaning as their embrace tightened. Goddess...she?s so nice...so beautiful...so curvy... Liz thought to herself. ...I hope my children like her...if she was as nice to the children as she is to me...Goddess, this just feels so RIGHT... Liz pulled away again, holding to both sides of Tamara?s sweaty head. "I want you to meet my children," Liz passionately hissed. "You will meet my children." "I will..." Tamara hissed back. "...I promise, Miss Zambrano...I-I like children anyway." Liz nodded in acknowledgement, and once again pressed her lips to Tamara?s, kissing wildly in their mutual affections. Her lips pecked a path to Tamara?s right ear, where she nibbled a bit on the plus-sized woman?s earlobe. "I?m not letting you go..." she breathlessly hissed. "...you?re mine tonight." "Yes..." Tamara passionately responded. "...keep me as long as you want, Miss Zambrano...please...!" Tamara laid across the sofa, allowing Liz to lay on top of her. Elizabeth?s hands roamed along the bare spots of Tamara?s pink strip- clad body as they continued to kiss, while Tamara?s hands rubbed at the bare back exposed by the backless pink dress Liz was wearing. Liz began to nibble at Tamara?s neck like a vampire, forcing moans out of the plus-sized woman?s mouth. Liz?s right hand found one of Tamara?s large breasts, and she began to grope at it. Memories of Liz?s more passionate moments when she was a prostitute in Ecuador seemed to assist the woman?s loveplay as Tamara continued to pant and moan over what Liz was doing to her. Both former boys were groping and writhing against each other as their mutual lust grew deeper and deeper. Droplets of sweat began to drip from the leather sofa as they continued to make love to each other. Neither of them noticed the door to the room open by a crack, through which a pair of eyes curiously peered upon them. Those eyes...the eyes of Grace Lees...widened when she saw who Liz was sharing her visibly hot and sweaty moment of passion with. Dear Goddess... Grace stopped just short of gasping audibly. ...that?s Tamara! I... In that moment, she thought about opening the door wider and stopping the loveplay... ...but in the next, she began to think on the positives of such a union, and as she dwelled on the thought, there were many. The symmetry just seemed to work. Both were former boys. Both were now fully female. Both had lost their mothers to the machinations of the Sisterhood. The only obstacle was the age factor. Tamara was younger. But...there were ways the Sisterhood coveted that could change this! She could somehow arrange to make Tamara a little older! All she needed to do was get Tamara back into the dermis machine. This had all the makings of a potential happy ending for the both of them. Grace closed the door, smiling thoughtfully. She considered having Tamara meet Joan, the maid who used to be Edward Wilson?s father. The blond Madame could still hear them moaning and panting as they continued to make love to each other. By now, something inside of the normally unflappable former man was stirring. She had to go into the adjoining private room before she began to lose her own sense of self- control. Going into the next room, however, which was thankfully empty, revealed that the wall between both rooms was thin enough to maintain the transmission of sound from the other room. Grace heard them both speak as she listened curiously. "Lemme show you a little trick," She heard Liz purr. "Just between us girls. Ever heard of...scissoring?" Grace?s eyes widened once again. She figured that was something Liz had learned from her time as a streetwalker. "Just...tell me what to do, Miss Zambrano," Tamara responded. "I?d be willing to learn." "I don?t just want you to learn, mi querida," Liz cooed back. "I want you to enjoy it." Back in the other room, both ladies had stripped down and were completely naked. They stopped for a moment to once again embrace, and lock lips. Their passions for one another re-ignited, they went down to the carpeted floor in front of the sweat-soaked sofa to writhe their sweaty female bodies against each other once again, moaning and panting as they did. Liz then spread her legs, and showed Tamara how to position herself. In the next moment, they were rubbing their nether regions together, the friction provoking their sexual organs in the act of scissoring. A hand went to Grace?s loins, despite herself, as the Madame listened to their passionate moans and panting. In the next moment, the hand buried itself beneath the hem of her slacks to rub near her own nether region. Liz?s lips then latched on to one of Tamara?s nipples, where she began instinctively sucking upon it. She knew this drove the few female clients that paid for her sex services wild. Tamara, however, being a recipient of the prototype Heifer formula, found herself shuddering as Liz worked her mouth at the plus-sized woman?s large breast. "Mmmmmmmh...." she moaned, lapsing into the docility that came with the Heifer effect. "...oo-ooooooohhh...." Grace was now panting despite herself. Her fingers were now rubbing at her sex as her arousal grew. The distinct moaning Tamara was emitting was making the Madame visibly horny now. Liz felt milk...very, very tasty and delicious milk...fill her mouth as the nipple surged a generous amount forth from the mammary she was drinking from. The debutante instructor?s cheeks puffed out a bit from the amount of milk that filled her mouth as she began to carefully swallow it down. Emitting a moan of approval, Liz continued to suck and drink from the breast. "Mmmmmmmh..." Tamara continued to make her bovine-like sounds. "....ooooooohhhh..." Grace was getting weak in the knees as she continued to provoke herself. Her mouth went slack as she panted. The heat was getting intense. She stopped a moment to pull off her blouse. Her bra soon followed. One hand was at a breast, and the other went back down to her loins. Liz pulled away to let a generous amount of the spraying milk cascade onto her naked body, practically bathing in it as she squeezed at the breast, coaxing more out of it. She then pressed her breast milk- drenched body down onto Tamara?s own naked mass, returning her milk- filled mouth to Tamara?s, letting her get a mouthful of her own breast milk as they resumed kissing. "Mmmmm..." Tamara licked around her lips. "...was that my own breast milk?" "Uh-huh," Liz confirmed, grinning. "I know what it feels like. I breast-fed my own children...but I should give them a taste of yours sometime. Yours is delicious." Tamara nodded, smiling back as she laid upon the milk-stained carpet. "No problem." The door to the Private Room Liz and Tamara shared, in that moment, suddenly opened. "Ahhh." Olivia Tench stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. "There you are, little cherub. I was wondering where you went off to." Tamara and Liz turned their heads toward the radically shapely Madame as she sauntered over to the pair of surprised occupants, smiling lasciviously. Tamara was visibly confused. Liz, however, was shocked. "Do you know this woman, Miss Zambrano?" Tamara asked as Olivia removed her lycra dress, exposing her fully naked body. "I just met her tonight," Liz answered as Olivia stepped next to Tamara. "She?s...one of the Madames, obviously..." Olivia placed a hand between the valleys of Tamara?s breasts, pushing her back to the carpeted floor. "Lay back, piggy. I need to be serviced." Tamara frowned in confusion... ...but before she could say anything in protest, Olivia settled her nether region over Tamara?s face, positioning her clit at the plus- sized woman?s mouth as the Madame?s eyes lingered on Liz, whose eyes widened over Olivia?s audacity. "Lick, piggy." Olivia nudged at Tamara?s body. "Lick. Suck. Be a good sow," Her eyes then went to Liz. "Now...what shall I do with you?" When Grace heard the door open, she feared it would be Rita. Hearing Olivia speak, however, made her a little more wary. Her response hung on how Liz was going to respond to Olivia?s question. Liz was in a bad spot, obviously. This was a Madame, and the debutante teacher was among the pinks tonight. A mantra formed in her head in hopes of offsetting whatever was to happen next. What happens at the party, stays at the party. She repeated this to herself again and again even as she spoke. What happens at the party, stays at the party. Liz lapsed into prostitute mode, already feeling a bit randy from her time with Tamara. "What would you like me to do?" "Hm-hmmmmph...!" Olivia had to react to the licking and sucking that was now going on at her loins. Obviously, Tamara had found the right spot, and had begun to indulge in doing just what Olivia had requested. "...c-come here...your mouth..." Olivia patted one of her large breasts. "...h-heere...oo-oooOOOOoooohhh, Goddess...you?re sooo good, piggy..." Olivia gestured to Tamara?s loins. "...your hand...here...rub...mmmmhhh..." And, as instructed, Liz latched her mouth to Olivia?s right breast, while her right hand reached down to rub at Tamara?s moist vagina. Olivia?s own right hand rubbed at Liz?s right breast. The three of them began moaning and panting, effectively keeping Grace where she was. With three ladies driving each other sexually wild, the Madame could only continue rubbing herself. Goddess... The blond madame mused to herself as she continued her self-pleasuring. ...I wish I was in there now...it?s been so fucking long... Grace could feel herself getting wet now as the audible friction between the three ladies in the next room seemed to become a veritable sandwich. Naked bodies sounded like they were writhing and moaning as they were groping and licking. In the room itself, the air around the trio became much more humid. Mirrors fogged up. Sweat mingled with the milk stains in the carpet. And Olivia, ever the Madame, was clearly in charge of the activities as she finally rose to her feet from the licking Tamara had given her. This also gave the plus-sized woman a chance to catch her breath from the facesitting experience. Olivia pointed to Tamara. "You stay there, sow." She turned to Liz. "Your turn to sit on my piggy?s face. You get to lick my snatch. Let?s see if you?re as good as my talented little sow there." Liz was hoping Tamara was tolerant. She had thought to apologize in advance, but she had a feeling that would not go over well with Olivia. Besides...with Tamara voluntarily calling her ?Miss Zambrano?, it didn?t bother her too much to be a little assertive with her new friend. Besides...the mantra she kept repeating to herself justified things. At least, for the moment, if not for the night. Settling her vagina over Tamara?s mouth, Liz bent towards Olivia?s own nether region, and she began licking at the moist slit, calling upon her call girl past to help satisfy things. Olivia began rubbing her hands through her sweaty pink hair as the former Edward Wilson began licking. And the moaning and the panting began anew. By now, Grace was weak in the knees in the next room. Her mouth hung open as she panted. Her eyes were closed as she savored her masturbation. A puddle of cum formed beneath her. She slid against the wall until her posterior settled on the ground. She tried not to moan as she rubbed herself. Liz performed just as well as Tamara did in pleasuring Olivia, who grasped and pulled at Liz?s pink hair. Liz herself was letting out squeals of pleasure over what Tamara was doing to her. Grace?s eyes squeezed shut as a torrent of cum gushed forth. "GuuuuUUuHHUH!!" she groaned out. "Ohhh...ohhh fffffuck...!!" She then slapped a hand over her mouth, hoping that no one heard her... ...and when she did, the cum on her fingers were now on her mouth. She opened her mouth, and licked the residue off of her fingers, momentarily pumping a finger in and out of her mouth as she moaned, reminiscing on her own sex-filled past. By the time the trio were finally finished in their mutual pleasuring, all three of them were a naked, sweaty mess. Their sweat-moistened bodies were practically steaming as they panted in exhaustion. Olivia crawled over to where she had dropped her pocketbook, and opened it up as Tamara crawled over to Liz, and locked lips with her once again. Olivia extracted something from the pocketbook, glancing lasciviously back to where the two ladies were kissing, and she rose to her feet, stepping quietly over to them. "You were great..." Liz whispered into Tamara?s ear as they hugged. "...you were really great." "You can say that again," the shapely Madame intoned. Olivia then wrapped what she had extracted...a studded pink leather collar...around Tamara?s neck. Liz gasped loudly as the plus-sized woman?s hands went to her neck. Olivia, however, had already fastened it tight. She then pulled Tamara up until she was kneeling. "What the fuck are you doing??" Liz cried out. "Whatever the hell I want, cherub. I?m a Madame," Olivia growled as she pulled Tamara against her body. "This little piggy is mine. You can go back to your little kiddies. I want this fat sow in my stable!" "No!" Liz rose to her feet. "If you have to take her...then take me too." "Miss Zambrano...NO!" Tamara cried out. "L-let her take me..." "I called dibs on you first," Liz frowned authoritatively. "Remember?" Thinking fast, Grace went to her smartphone and quickly brought up Olivia?s own smartphone number. She hoped that Olivia had her own phone on her as Grace tried to think of an excuse to have her release Tamara. The clack of heels outside the private room Grace was in heralded another intrusion. Fearing it was Agatha, Grace chose a hiding space and went dead silent. The door hurriedly opened, and after a moment, Grace heard a female voice hiss, "FUCK!" and then closed the door. "Give me one really good reason why I should give my new sow up, pink one," Olivia intoned threateningly, glaring at the defiant Liz. It was then that the door to the room the trio shared burst open. "Oh, THERE you are," At the door was a blond-haired woman with freakishly bloated lips, and a noticeable mark above her upper lip. "We have to talk. Are you playing with a woman named Tamara right now?" Olivia turned to the young woman, releasing the collar to take a step towards the woman at the door. "She?s my new sow. She?s also a fantastic cuntlicker. Why?" "Uh...bad news, Madame Olivia," the woman warned. "She?s Mayoress Stroud?s new secretary. I just got a text on the smartphone you asked me to hold on to, and..." Olivia closed her eyes in her visible frustration. "SHIT!!" She then turned her attention to Tamara. "One day...one day...I?ll have you back in my clutches again, little sow." Tamara smirked. "Get in line." Olivia?s eyes flared. "I won?t forget what you just said. You should also know that I?m very good at skipping ahead to the front of that line. You haven?t heard the last of me, little pig," She turned to the woman with the huge lips. "Get my collar. I?m going to the fucking bar," The angry Madame then stormed out. The big-lipped young woman then stepped over to Tamara and unbuckled the collar, slipping it off of her neck. She then grabbed a handful of her hair and glared into the plus-sized woman?s eyes. "You owe me, piggy," she growled. Although Tamara winced at the hair pull, she kept quiet. The young woman let go and went back out of the private room. That was when both Tamara and Liz let out huge sighs of relief. "Great," Tamara mused. "Add two more to the list of crazy Madames who want me." Liz turned to the plus-sized woman. "Should I get in line?" "Oh, fuck no." Rising to her feet, she stepped over to Elizabeth. "You know why?" Tamara then wrapped her arms around Liz. "Because you?ve already got me, Miss Zambrano." Liz embraced her new friend, smiling as they stared into each other?s eyes once more. "Careful," Elizabeth mused. "I might get a little frisky around you too." Tamara shrugged. "I?m used to it by now." They resumed locking lips, reaffirming their affections for each other. Their embrace tightened as they continued to kiss. "I really wanna see you again," Elizabeth quietly cooed. Another kiss on the lips. "The night?s not over, Miss Zambrano." Liz grinned wide. "More milk for me." Tamara giggled. "Mooooo." Another shared giggle as they embraced each other again, lovingly. "You know...before we go on," Liz remarked thoughtfully. "you should go and lock the door." Tamara released her and stepped back a bit, willfully performing a curtsey gesture. "Yes, Miss Zambrano." As Tamara moved to engage the door?s lock, Liz stared at her new friend thoughtfully. I wonder how good you would be as a Nanny. Liz quietly wondered. * * * Upon hearing Liz suggest that the door be locked, Grace heaved her own sigh of relief. She then noticed that she had stripped down to her undergarments in the heat of her masturbating. Some of those clothes were also stained with her own cum. "Shit!" she hissed. She did continue to hear kissing and gentle moaning next door, but Grace was convinced by now that Tamara and Elizabeth had all the potential in the world to be an item, and she was willing to take the step necessary in fixing the age gap between Liz and Tamara. Once again, the clack of heels in front of the door to the room Grace was lingering in sent her behind a hiding spot. She hoped that they would not notice the cum stains. She quickly pulled over her stained outfit, holding it close, and waited. When she heard Agatha?s voice in the conversation that followed, Grace?s blood ran cold. * * * Agatha opened the door and gestured for her young partner to enter. "In here," she commanded. In walked Connor James, a Freshman student from Feetham?s, and one who had been thus far conditioned to respond to the voice of the Sisterhood?s figurehead. She gestured to the room?s sofa. "Sit." Without another word, Connor lowered himself onto the comfy cushions of the sofa, crossing his legs in front of him. "Why am I..." He stopped to clear his voice, although it did not sound hoarse. "...why am..." he cleared his voice again. "...why..." The high-pitched voice was unchanged. He sighed irritably. "...why am I here? It said 21 or older out front." "20 is close enough," Agatha tersely replied. "I hear you haven?t been doing well in school." "It?s hard for me to concentrate on things when everyone?s giving me weird looks!" Connor replied, pushing a thick bit of pink hair out of his eyes. "And why didn?t you tell me that the shampoo you wanted me to wash with would make my hair turn pink?" Agatha settled herself into the nearby couch, smirking. "You didn?t ask." The chief conspirator had to suppress a giggle over Connor?s girlish pout. The young student then sighed irritably, looking down at himself. "This feels so tight on me. I know you told me guys wear skirts in Scotland, but...did they look like this??" "Does it matter? A skirt is a skirt," Agatha mused, gazing at the skin-tight, purple, long-sleeved lycra dress that Connor?s slim body was wearing. "You wear it well, too." "No one else seems to think so!" Connor shot back. "I hear people shout out the windows of their cars as they drive by when I?m going home, calling me a fag!" Agatha gestured for Connor to approach her. "Come here, Connie. Come to me." As he scratched at a minor itch at his face, trying not to ruin the layer of foundation makeup that was there, the young student stepped over and lowered to both knees as Agatha leaned forward and placed her hands upon both cheeks. As Connor stared up at her, he began to blink as that funny jumbling feeling in his head whenever Agatha touched him returned. Agatha had already conditioned him to stare deeply upon her face whenever she did this. "Whenever you are ridiculed by drivers, you will look at their license plate numbers, and memorize them," Agatha began. "If their cars have no plates, remember what your tormentors...or their cars...look like, and then call this number." She recited the number of the local Bullchester Police Department. Twice, and slowly. She then had Connor repeat the number as he stared. "You will then feel satisfied that they will be properly dealt with. Your new learning is very important, and you should not let anyone get in the way of it, or tease you over it. The only one in your life that matters is you, and you alone." "What about...daddy?" Connor asked once Agatha lowered her hands. "Your daddy needs to understand that this is the best thing to happen to you right now," Agatha answered. "Remember the day you came to me in the park that afternoon? Remember that you told me that your parents were too busy to care about your well-being? Who gave you advice when you were having social problems at school?" "You did, Auntie Agatha," Connor responded. "Did you make a few more friends after you followed my advice?" Agatha asked, glancing over to a wet stain on the carpet, by a side wall of the room, which made her frown curiously. "Yes, Auntie Agatha," Connor replied. "So you can say that your new daily facial regimen is helping you, isn?t it?" Agatha reasoned as she turned her head back to Connor. "You told me your body would look silly wearing that dress when I showed it to you. Does it look silly now?" Connor looked down at himself. It never occurred to him that he would be slimming down, but he honestly didn?t look as bad as he thought he would at the moment. His eyes went back up to Agatha. "Not...not really, Auntie Agatha." A devious smile was now on Agatha?s lips. "I have a feeling you?re going to make a LOT of new friends in the months to come. A lot of people are going to be sharing your way of thinking. Some of them could even be the fools that bothered you as they drove past. Trust me, Connor. Things will change for the better for you very, very soon. I promise this." Connor bit his lower lip nervously. "Can I...get a soda from the bar?" Agatha held out a hand, which Connor took as she rose from the sofa. "Let?s go." Connor began to feel funny in his head again as Agatha led the feminized young man out of the room, and closed the door behind her. * * * Grace let out a huge sigh of relief once Agatha and Connor were gone. Her breath control exercises had obviously paid off. She then turned her head to where her cum stains on the floor were, near the wall. She made a mental note to have Maggie?s club maintenance staff cover that area ASAP once the party was over. Finally rising to her feet, she waited for another 15 minutes, always alert for anyone approaching the front door from outside, before finally emerging from the private room. She then went over to where she had hoped Elizabeth and Tamara were lingering, and she tried opening the door a crack. But the door was locked. She hoped that someone...anyone...would say something to confirm that they were... "I?ve...never been a Nanny before, Miss Zambrano," Grace finally heard Tamara?s voice say. "But...I?d be willing to try. For you, I?d be willing." Grace smiled, finding the notion compelling, as she knocked upon the door. "It?s Madame Grace, ladies." After a moment, the door?s lock was disengaged, and Liz opened the door. She was completely naked as Grace stepped in. Looking to Tamara, she saw that she, too, was in the buff. "Did you two want to stay?" Grace asked. "I?d be willing to give you a lift home if you both wanted to get away from here early. All the important stuff, and the entertainment, is done. It?s just people dancing, drinking, mingling, and playing around out there." "Is...Madame Rita still out there?" Tamara asked. "Dunno. I?ve been in hiding next door, actually," Grace replied, pulling out her smartphone. "Buuuuut...I can find out." Engaging an app keyed to the security cameras of the club, she cycled through the images until she found a live image of Vije Nastassje and Rita Noble sandwiching a young girl who looked just like Vije at one of the back booths of the club. A small crowd watched them writhe pleasurably together. Grace also confirmed that Agatha was still at the bar with Connor. "Is she there?" Tamara asked. Grace disengaged the app and looked over to the plus-sized woman. "I?m afraid so, but she?s busy consummating affections for her new client. That...Vee-hay woman." Liz gently placed a hand on Tamara?s shoulder assuringly. "We don?t have to stay, Tamara. If you want to go, we can go. It?s okay." "I?m asking because, well...I?d like to leave right now myself," Grace admitted. "I just had a close call, and I?d rather not take anymore chances tonight. If you choose to stay, you?d have to find a way home on your own." Tamara gave it a moment of thought, and then sighed resolutely. "Yeah. I?m ready to get out of here. They said they?re gonna do this every year anyway, and...any opportunity to get away from Madame Noble is..." Grace?s eyebrow raised curiously as Tamara stopped herself. Liz also looked curious. "Is...?" Tamara seemed to be fighting with herself. "...is..." Her head turned to Elizabeth, staring into her eyes. "...is good, I meant to say. I...I feel like...like I can get away when I?m around you. I?m so happy I met you tonight." Liz smiled, rubbing the tips of her fingers along Tamara?s cheek. "Did you want me to stay with you tonight? At your place, if you have one?" "I do," Tamara answered. "I do have my own place, I mean," Her own hands went to push locks of hair out of Liz?s face. "And I?d like that. I really would." Liz giggled cutely at this, blushing as Grace rose up and took a peek outside. She confirmed that Rita was still messing around with Vije, and Agatha was busy talking to Connor. Even better was that she was facing away from her line-of-sight to the front entrance of the club. "Come on, then." Grace snapped her fingers twice. "Get your clothes on. Quickly." Both ladies complied, helping each other get their skimpy outfits back onto their bodies. Bunching up behind Grace, she led them back downstairs, where they were able to lose themselves in the sea of bodies still on the dance floor as they made their way towards the club entrance, and freedom. Unfortunately, a big-boobed, red-haired woman, who turned out to be a very inebriated Barbara Walsh, suddenly draped herself against Tamara, surprising the plus-sized woman. "Heyyyy, Tamaraaaa. How?sh my fav?rite cow, hmmm?" Her hand went up to grope at one of Tamara?s breasts. "You milky t?night? I could ushe a drink." "No, no...I..." Tamara glanced towards the club entrance. "...I was just leaving, Mom...I mean..." She blushed deeply over her error. Why couldn?t she remember this woman?s actual name? "Whuh? Leaving sho shoon? Party?sh jush begun!" Barbara slurred, maintaining her hold on Tamara, who now had a very nervous expression on her face. "You shee Rita? Didn?chu come in with her?" She started to drag Tamara with her. "I?sh take y? back to..." Fortunately, Liz and Grace had their hands on Tamara as well, and they were able to wrest the worried woman out of the Midwife?s grip. She stumbled forward, consequentially, and collided into another guest. This guest turned out to be a sublimely funny-looking crossdressed male in heavy makeup who was dancing with a redhead. Tamara?s eyes widened in her complete surprise as she recognized the face of Hank Fryer in all that makeup, and with a head of pink hair to boot! Hank?s eyes also widened when he spotted Tamara. Fortunately, he looked a bit drunk. "Don?t I...know you?" "Hey!" A slap to Hank?s foundation-covered cheek diverted his attention to the redhead he was dancing with. "Keep your eyes here, bitch!" "Oh...shorry, Ka," Hank?s face dissolved into a more compliant expression. "I...I thought I knew tha? wommmun. My bad." Resuming their journey to the club?s entrance, a glance to Tamara?s right revealed a look at a teenage girl with a catlike appearance. Her pink hair was wildly teased, and she wore a plastic headband with cat ears on it. She had also, apparently, given her face a catlike appearance through what Tamara could only guess was a black sharpie. The tip of her nose was blackened, and she had a line running beneath her nose along the dent in her upper lip. Dots...apparently representing whisker dots...could be seen on either side of the dent. Tamara recognized the face, however. It was Charlene Merrywether. A part of her wanted to go over and talk with her, but Liz had grabbed Tamara?s arm and they resumed their escape to the entrance. Once they reached the entrance, they were stopped by yet another obstacle. Pamela Merryweather had apparently arrived, and Grace?s heart sank with her horror. She knew the party?s full attention would shift to the front, and Rita and Agatha would spot them. Fortunately, however, the smiling Pamela stepped back and allowed the trio to pass. "Is it a good party so far?" "Oh yeah. Best in Bullchester," Tamara quickly replied, applying a cordial smile. "I think your family?s in there, too. They?ve been waiting to see you." "Oh? You saw Cher? Good, good. I?ve been wanting to talk with her," Pamela planted a kiss on Tamara?s forehead, which left a lip mark. "Thank you so much, dear. Have a wonderful night!" A part of her wondered if Pamela had always been so mindlessly cheerful as she made her way into the party space. She was already generating loud cheers from the club interior. Fortunately, Grace, Tamara, and Elizabeth were already outside, and they hurried over to where Grace had parked her car. Once they were all inside, they let out loud sighs of relief. "Goddess, I thought we?d never get out of there," Grace remarked, resting herself against the driver?s seat as her two female passengers buckled in behind her. Liz looked curious. "You never told me your Mom was in there." Tamara shook her head. "She isn?t." "Tamara?s Mom...her real one...is in the Witness Protection Program, Beth," Grace explained. "She was gonna be married to the leader of a Human Trafficking ring. She helped the Feds catch him in exchange for protection." Liz frowned, remembering a related news story she had read. "You mean, that really nasty Greek guy? I read about that!" She then nudged Tamara, smiling. "Your Mom?s a hero, you silly girl! Goddess, I?m learning something more interesting about you by the minute!" Tamara shrugged, smiling back. "Circumstance." "So, why did you call her...?" Liz gestured to the club as Grace got the car engine going. "Probably another mind fuck, courtesy of the Sisterhood," Grace answered. "Hope you learned your lesson, Tamara. Keep a distance from Barbara Walsh from now on, okay? The closer you are to her, the more her pheromones are gonna lure you in." Tamara lowered her head as she nodded. "I...I?ll try." She looked to Liz. "I might need your help." Liz grinned, giving Tamara a quick peck on her lips. "Anytime." Grace kept the car on the roads as they distanced themselves from Cincher?s. A part of her wondered what this Connor James person now looked like under Agatha?s watch. She made a mental note to find out more about his situation by checking his records. It was clear, from what Grace had overheard, that he was once a young male student. For the moment, she kept driving. When she slowed to a halt a few minutes later due to a red light, Grace glanced at the seats behind her. The both of them were napping. Their eyes were closed. Tamara?s head was in Elizabeth?s lap, and Liz?s head was resting against the comfy car seat. Her mouth was slightly agape as she, too, breathed steadily. They both had very peaceful expressions on their faces as they slept. A smile formed on Grace?s lips... ...but then, the rude honking of a horn from the car behind her reminded her that the light had turned green, and she quickly turned her head back to the road and rolled on, blushing deeply. She then began to think of a way to swing another visit for Tamara...this time, an age-advancing visit...to the infamous dermis machine at the dreaded Butterfly Salon. * * * Back at Cincher?s, Maggie had just finished announcing the presence of Pamela Merrywether at the party. The applause was loud as the beaming host of "The Merry Weather Show" took the stage. "HI!!" Pamela gave a cordial wave to the sea of faces beneath her. "Wow! So many faces down there! I feel like jumping forward to do a little body-surfing!" Laughter followed this bit of mirth as Pam mimed the popular concert trick. "Well, it?s grrrreat to be here at the first annual Pink Persuasions party..." Pamela continued. "...my visit tonight is kinda under-the- hat, so don?t tell anyone I came by today, okay?" "Too late!" Pam?s hyperactive agent, Shelly Piper, called out from within the crowd, causing another bit of laughter. "Uh, oh..." Pam mimed embarrassment. "...I?ll see you all on the unemployment line!" More laughter followed this. "Anyway..." Pam resumed. "...I?m sure some of you will be happy to know that we were renewed for another season of the Merry Weather Show..." Loud applause followed this announcement. "...aaaand as always, it?s been my life?s hope to have the almighty Martha Stewart on the show as our guest, and, weeeellll...you know how busy she tends to be..." She shrugged at this, giving the crowd the impression that she was once again unsuccessful. "...but a funny thing happened as I was pouring my morning coffee cup. I got a call from her agent!" There were a few ?oohs? from the crowd when she spoke this. "Martha?s agent told me not to hold my breath, but...sheeeee miiiiight be able to have Martha join us for this new season?s final episode!" Once again, cheers were loud as Pamela raised her fists in triumph. "I have a feeling Martha is gonna like the city more than the show, though!" Pamela chimed. "Last I heard, the crime rate remains very low, and quality of life seems to be higher than ever! I?d hate to think it was because of our little show, though! Pffft! We might have our wonderful Mayoress...wherever she is...to thank for making the city better than ever!" Another loud round of applause followed this statement. "Well, I don?t wanna keep you from all the naughty things I?m seeing here tonight, so...have a great night, and...do anything and everything that no one would dare do on my show!" Laughter turned to cheers and applause as Pamela placed the mike back in the stand. She beamed and waved as she stepped down off the stage and walked towards where she knew her daughter, Annie, and Ethel were waiting for her. Shelly Piper...ever the agent of the Sisterhood...also approached the rendezvous. "What do you think of the show, Ging?" Priscilla asked her formerly male red-headed friend. "Oh, I love it!" The curly-haired former young man answered. "It?s all I watch when it?s on! Pamela has such a great personality! Soooo warm, and...welcoming..." "Isn?t she?" Ginger gushed. "I should go over and get some tips on how to make the perfect Quiche." "Well, why are you talking to me, silly?" Priscilla began to drag her pink-haired friend over towards where Pamela was speaking with her daughter. "No better time than the present!" "Oh, Prissy, no! I-I couldn?t!" Ginger tried to resist, but Priscilla?s grip was too tight. "She?s talking with..." "So?" Priscilla reasoned as they continued their approach. "We?ll just stand by! We?ve got all night, red! Quit draggin? your feet!" As Priscilla brought her friend closer to Pamela Merryweather, a very drunk and giggly Rita Noble was brought upstairs by Vije Nastassje towards the private rooms. They entered the one nearest to the stairs, and Rita took a bit of a stumble into the room, giggling the entire time. The tall, European waif pulled Rita back up, and she quickly locked lips with Vije once she was back on her feet. Vije, holding Rita with one arm, rubbed a hand over the debutante?s blond hair, pushing it back. "Mmmm...shave sides of head. Smooth. Bare. Like Vije. Push hair back." Despite her dosing, Rita struggled mentally with her current fixation. It didn?t help that Vije?s nature was so attractively alien and domineering. The thin-figured woman?s very presence practically blindsided Rita. Any notion of her plans for Tamara this evening were gone for the moment, and largely because Tamara?s sisters were no- shows. All she could dwell upon now was to continue being with Vije. As Rita stared back through sensually slitted eyes, Vije continued to caress the debutante?s face. "Today, Bullchester. Tomorrow...de world? Eh? You want, Ri-ta? You want de world?" "Mmmmyesss," Rita purred, in a moment of lucidity despite her delirium. "I wanna crush everyone who wronged me." "Yeeeesssss," the thin-figured waif responded, still grinning. "Vije relate." And as they continued to grope and kiss each other within the private room, they kept speaking to each other, with Vije asking many questions about how Rita ran her business. Given her current mental state, Rita was certainly willing to share her secrets. When Ron and Fifi joined them a few minutes later in their curiosity, Vije had Ron rub at Rita?s bare back, while Fifi rubbed at hers. In that moment, they both certainly felt like they were pampered conquerors. * * * Armanda Lopez...formerly Armando, a rowdy club regular who tried slipping rohypnol to a girl, and paid with his birth gender when Maggie caught him in the act...had just finished cleaning one of the private rooms once the interiors of the club had emptied out completely. This was the room that Maggie had wanted to cover first, at the demand of one of the Madames who had been in there. This was obviously the room that Grace Lees had masturbated in. Fortunately, Armanda was able to remove all traces of her presence in there. Going into the room next door, however, she was able to pick up on sounds from within when she realized that the door was locked. She knew that the previous four occupants of this room...Rita Noble, Vije Nastassje, and Vije?s two young guests...had left the room, and the club, an hour before the main lights went on, signaling the end of the first annual Pink Persuasions party. The sounds were a combination of moaning, giggling, and some quiet, idle chatter. The voices sounded like they were coming from older women. Using her master key, Armanda opened the door... ...and saw two old women in pink hair administering to a couple of attractive, platinum blond cougars. Their faces were buried in the exposed snatches of the blondes. Armanda frowned. "Party?s over! We close now!" the club?s resident, and fully-conditioned (and pink-haired) maid growled. "You see, Zuzu? I TOLD you!" One of the cougars slapped the forehead of the old lady at her clit. "Enough!" The silver-haired woman then looked apologetically to the maid. "We?re sorry. Can you give us a minute? We?ll come right out." "Heh...we kinda lost track of time there," the other cougar admitted. Her eyes then went to the disengaging old woman between her legs. "Dress me, Poppet." Shaking her head, and rolling her eyes, Armanda closed the door and waited. Five minutes later, all four of the lingering guests hurried out of the room, the two old women trailing slowly behind the cougars. "Madre de Diosa," Armanda quietly griped to herself, shaking her head, as she stepped into the private room and began her cleaning duties. Down below, at the bar, Maggie had just finished counting the profits from the party. It was enough to finance a hundred more Pink Persuasion parties, which would obviously make Agatha and Rita Noble very pleased. Maggie was already looking forward to next year?s party. * * * As the exterior lights finally died in front of Cincher?s, the occupants of a parked car nearby kept their eyes on the front doors for a little while longer. "I?m sure yer friend?s fine, darlin?," Gwynn Welsh assured, gently placing a hand on Larry Hanel?s shoulder. "Didn?t y? tell me she?s become a real pistol of a gal?" "Yeah..." Larry thoughtfully answered. "...I guess I wanted t? see if I could play backup t?night." Smiling, Gwynn brought her lips close to Larry?s ear, speaking softly. "If it?d make y? feel any bett?r, I could make a coupla calls. Make sure she?s home safe an? sound. If not...I figure I could sneak ?er on in t? that big ol? Salon at th? Mall an? fix ?er ?till she?s right as rain." "Somehow, I think any kinda visit t? that place?d scare th? bejeezus outta T?mara, Gwynn," Larry responded. A few minutes later, five women emerged from the club?s front door, and Gwynn recognized one of them as the club manager, Maggie. The others were the maidstaff she employed there, and one of them was locking the doors. "That?s th? last of ?em, Larry," Gwynn remarked. "C?mon. Let?s mosey on down t? my pad. I wan?cha t? meet m? darlin? Poppy." After a moment of thought, Larry nodded, and started the car back up. As the car roared to life, an old woman...a derelict wearing a bunch of heavily-soiled clothes...staggered over to the car with a troubled expression on her face. "This place...this whole city! It?s a trap!" the pathetic-looking old woman warbled. "It?s a FUCKIN? TRAP!!" Gwynn sighed irritably. "Damn that Leslie! Day in, day out...it?s like she nev?r sleeps!" "Ain?t nothin? wrong with me!" Leslie Betancourt growled. "You all need to WAKE UP!! Look what they did ta me!!" Larry knew there was indeed something to this woman?s apparently nonsensical ravings, but he knew that if he wasn?t as cautious as Gwynn and Maggie Katzhoff, he?d probably turn out far worse than this ranting derelict. He had to pull out of the curbside and drive away. "A TRAP!!" He heard Leslie scream out. "IT?S A FUCKIN? TRAP!!" Sometime during the trip, he heard a chime emanate from his smartphone, heralding the arrival of a text. He waited until the car was at a red light before pulling out the phone and checking the message. Larry ? In case you?re wondering, Tamara is fine. She?s back at her home with Elizabeth Zambrano, a single mother of two that she fell in love with at the party. She?s...an acquaintance of mine. You?d like her. I hope your date with Gwynn went well. Chat later. - G A relieved smile was now on Larry?s face as he finished reading the chat, and just in time for the light to turn green. He felt a great weight lift from his shoulders as he drove. Gwynn looked curious. "Ev?rythin? all right, darlin??" "Yes, ma?am," Larry confirmed. "I?ll explain when we get t? your place." The confirmation that Grace had sent effectively turned a worrisome night into a much better one, even with the derelict feeding the terribly obvious warnings about Bullchester itself. His second date with Gwynn...which consisted of yet another pleasant and informative night at Upscale, followed by a scenic stroll through Bullchester Park...went very well. Larry talked about his time with Tamara, and how she was instrumental in helping him win an important court case. He also shared the moments in which Sisterhood advocates like Celeste Richards and Rita Noble compelled and drove the former Timothy Portnoy down the feminine road he was forced to take. The undercurrent of worry, however, was always there. Larry knew there was a big party, and Rita even sent him a text letting him know how much she missed working with him, and that she would ?say hi to Tammy during tonight?s party?. He didn?t have any reasons, nor any justification, to distrust Grace for the moment. He had to trust that she wasn?t deceiving him about Tamara. This much made it easier for him to fall asleep...with Gwynn slumbering next to him...once they both had their heads on soft, sweet-smelling pillows. Outside, the skies were already a light blue with the onset of an early Sunday morning. Larry and Gwynn, like all of the other satisfied guests of the first annual Pink Persuasions party, were snug in their respective beds(or in the case of some submissives, on the floor), effectively recovering from what was an entirely unforgettable evening. And in the case of some of those guests, life-changing.