Barford File 2 - The Betancourts - Chapters III And IV free porn video

III: Hard Candy - Tenchion '< : I'm going to ask you a question right now and I will expect you to answer honestly, Tobias. - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : Who the fuck is this? - Tenchion '< : Is your first name Harvey? - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?? - Tenchion '< : No. You don't get to use all caps with me, you little shit. I know what you're trying to do, and I'm ashamed of you. - Tenchion '< : You could go to jail for this, do you know that? - Tenchion '< : Do you want that on your conscience, little boy? On your permanent record? - Tenchion '< : I assume I still have your attention. Now answer my question. Is your first name Harvey? - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : No - Tenchion '< : And yet, you were trying to log in to a Bullchester Federal Reserve Account using a username and password that was not yours. Did your parents ask you to do this, Tobias? - Tenchion '< : THE NEXT TIME YOU MAKE ME WAIT FOR AN ANSWER FOR MORE THAN FIVE SECONDS, I WILL REPORT YOU TO THE AUTHORITIES. - Tenchion '< : NOW ANSWER THE QUESTION. - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : Yes - Tenchion '< : You're a very naughty boy, Tobias...but since you gave me an honest answer, I'll answer your question now. - Tenchion '< : This is Miss Olivia. - Tenchion '< : We met on the bus, remember? Is your nipple still sore? - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : Oh...hi. - Tenchion '< : Goddess, you are SO pathetic. Don't you dare address me like that anymore. From now on, say 'Hello, Madame Olivia". Try it now. - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : Hello Madame Olivia - Tenchion '< : AND WHAT DOES THAT STUPID HANDLE OF YOURS MEAN? "AWESOMESAUCE4E4"?? - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : I dunno. It just sounded cool is all. - Tenchion '< : Well, I don't like it. Change it. Right now. Change the font color to pink, and use the name 'SissiTerri' from now on. - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : OH FUCK NO. - Tenchion '< : What's the matter, Terri? Are you trying to disconnect? The button is disabled. Don't bother powering off and powering back on again. I'll automatically reconnect. Try it if you don't believe me. ----===*CHAT TERMINATED*===---- - Tenchion '< : Peek-a-boo. - Tenchion '< : The disconnect button is still disabled, isn't it? Looks like you're stuck with me. ----===*CHAT TERMINATED*===---- - Tenchion '< : Good evening. - Tenchion '< : As you can see, you can't run programs. We can lock you out completely. - Tenchion '< : And I can wait all night if you make me have to do that. - Tenchion '< : Are you still there, Terri? - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : Yes - Tenchion '< : CHANGE THAT FUCKING NAME. NOW! - SissiTerri '< : Okay - Tenchion '< : 'Okay'? You can do better than that, you identity- thieving punk! How did I tell you to address me? - SissiTerri '< : Madame Olivia - Tenchion '< : So do the Math, and address me properly. I can have the Feds break that front door down and put all three of you behind bars, Terri. Remember that. - SissiTerri '< : Yes Madame Olivia - Tenchion '< : Good girl. Now I know your parents put you up to this, but that still makes you an accessory to Identity Theft. From now on, I will ask you to do something for me, and you will have 24 hours to do it for me, then take a selfie and send it to me as proof. - SissiTerri '< : What kind of something? - Tenchion '< : The kind of something that keeps me from reporting you and your parents to the Feds. - Tenchion '< : When you get home from school, you are going to go on your computer and open the Speakabout app, then send me the selfie. You will keep the app open until I respond. - Tenchion '< : Further, when we chat, you will no longer capitalize your 'I's. Capitalize the 'Y' whenever you say 'you'. - Tenchion '< : Try it. Type the words 'I hear you.' - SissiTerri '< : i hear You - Tenchion '< : Good. Good girl. - SissiTerri '< : Was that my first task? - Tenchion '< : NO. Don't be a smartass, Terri. THIS is your first task. - Tenchion '< : Buy a pair of pink panties, put them on, and take a selfie of you wearing them. - Tenchion '< : If I don't see a selfie tomorrow, I'll have the Feds bust down your door the next day. Do you understand, Terri? - SissiTerri '< : Yes Madame Olivia - Tenchion '< : Excuses will be unacceptable. Daddy's in the hospital? Send me that selfie. House burned down? Send me that selfie. Grounded for a week? Send me that selfie. Softball practice? Send me that selfie. Get the picture, Terri? - SissiTerri '< : Yes Madame Olivia - Tenchion '< : AGAIN. PROPER PUNCTUATION MARKS THIS TIME. - SissiTerri '< : Yes, Madame Olivia. - Tenchion '< : Good. Good girl. - Tenchion '< : Should be close to your bedtime, isn't it? Let me send you something to dream about... * * * 'Tenchion' then uploaded a picture of herself in a highly erotic and sweaty pose, rubbing at her own large, bare boobs. The picture was large enough to fill half the monitor size. Tobias's eyes widened, feeling an urge to unzip his jeans. A second picture followed, this time with Olivia on her knees, her bare back facing Tobias. She looked over her shoulder sensually, emphasizing her shapely butt. That's when the young man started rubbing his exposed and erect sexual organ as vigorously as he could. * * * After they had tasked their young son with using the login ID they had gotten from Harvey to extract a tidy sum from the old man's bank account, Leslie and Arnold drove out to the city and arrived at Angela's Antiques, anticipating to receive a lot of money in the wake of the appraisals made by Philomena Crosby, the old woman who worked there. Shortly after dropping off Harvey and Glenda at the retirement home, the Betancourts spent the next couple of days gathering up their well- preserved keepsakes and sending it to the Antiques dealer. Unfortunately, they needed to wait until Philomena actually appraised them, the old woman noting that it would take her a couple of days. After they finally got the call from the old woman, they were quick to drive back out to the storefront. Upon seeing the Betancourts return, Philomena motioned them over. "Okay...my daughter-in-law and I went over everything, and I have a few figures for you," The old woman began. "You really should have gone over some of that stuff with a cleaning agent. We saw some grime, dust, and residue in spots on the furniture pieces, and there were some rips and tears on the vinyl album covers. I can't say that the Inkwell desk you sent was in the most perfect condition, either. Did you know that there were pencil markings beneath the desk?" "Well...we figured that would add to the sell price," Arnold responded. "I mean...these are marks made by schoolchildren in the 1940s!" "Mr. Betancourt, unless the pencil marks were made by someone like Albert Einstein, and you can prove it, those pencil marks are nothing but vandalism, and that brings the sell price down," Philomena reasoned. Her eyes returned to her written assessment. "Now...the old sewing machine has a broken pedal, which pretty much renders it useless. Nothing but eye candy." Leslie sighed in her irritation. "We looked everywhere for a replacement part for that pedal! No one had it! We couldn't even find one on eBay!" "And even if you did, the sell price would have dipped," Philomena mused. "The next time you want to give away old machines, make sure they work perfectly with all parts intact. Otherwise, I need to dock the sell price." Leslie hung her head. SHIT! I thought that one was going to get us the most money! She griped to herself. Philomena then directed the attention of her guests to the box of silverware they had brought in. "May I ask where you got these? I looked these over, and they look like a full set. Nothing missing. I was trying to place their point of origin, though. The box had no markings." Smiling, Arnold produced a letter written in dutch, which in itself was perfectly preserved. "This technically goes with that. That box of silverware came from a rich gentleman in Holland. My granddad was among the American soldiers of the 82nd Airborne Division who liberated a bridge near Eindhoven...the Grave bridge...during Operation Market Garden. This was a gift from the nearby village. Not one piece of silverware has been used." The old woman frowned in astonishment. "And you...you want to get rid of it? We're talking genuine 1940s silverware from a foreign country!" Her eyes then narrowed suspiciously. "You didn't steal this from your granddad, did you?" "No, of course not," Arnold unconvincingly replied. "He...he told me to sell it off." Philomena's ominous stare lingered. It was the kind of stare that would get a weak-willed man to crack under pressure and spill a secret or two. Arnold, however, held his ground and kept quiet. Despite the fact that Arnold had openly lied. "Look...can we just cut to the chase, and uh...skip a few lines here?" Leslie impatiently remarked. "How much are you gonna give us for all this?" After a moment of silent thought, Philomena brought her head back up to gaze upon the anxious couple. "Okay...there's good news and there's bad news here. The good news is that your most valuable item is this silverware set. By comparison, everything else will get you pocket change. I'm prepared to pay you, ohhhh...a little over seven thousand." The eyes of both Arnold and Leslie Betancourt widened, but Philomena could not tell if it was wild satisfaction, or grave disbelief, in their eyes. "The bad news is that you're not getting the money right away," The old woman added. "I want to get a second opinion on these pieces before I give you your check. Especially with this box of silverware. Who knows? Maybe some of this other stuff is worth a little more. I just want to be sure I'm not gyppin' you here. That's my offer, though. Take it or leave it. If you take it, though, you gotta come back next week." "A week??" Leslie cried out in disbelief. Philomena shrugged. "Give or take a day." Arnold turned to his wife before she could protest further. "Hey...you never know. Like she said, this could be worth a little more. I'm willing to wait for that, honey." After a moment of stressed consideration, Leslie threw up her hands in resignation. "Fine, fine." She was already on her way out the door as she spoke these words. Arnold bobbed his head in acknowledgement to the old woman. "Thank you. We'll see you next week, then," He then followed his wife out. Philomena walked back over to the box of silverware, staring down at it as her new employee...a meek young woman named Beatrice Sawyer, who effectively supplanted former subordinate Angela Carmichael...stepped over to her curiously. Beatrice frowned in her puzzlement. "Um...what is it?" After a long moment of silence, her eyes contemplatively remained on the box as she spoke. "Bea...get me the number of that guy in Gelderland. Should be in the Rolodex in the back offices. His last name is..." She squinted her eyes shut, and clicked the fingers of her right hand near her head, as she tried to recall the surname before it finally came to her, extending an index finger. "...Hjortsberg." "Gelderland?" Beatrice looked mystified. "As in...the Netherlands? What for?" Philomena shrugged. "Verification, of course." * * * Harvey Betancourt stood before the many varieties of dumbbells in the retirement home's newly-constructed gymnasium, his mind lost in uncertainty. Although his body was still showing visible signs of rejuvenation, and he amazingly discovered that he could now get around on his own two legs instead of three, he wondered just how much strength had returned to him. He decided to start with the smallest dumbbell at 3 lbs. These were about the only ones he could manage before he arrived at Golden Sunshine. Harvey figured that if he no longer needed a cane to walk around, then he could practically toss this dumbbell in the air, and then catch it without the risk of hurting his arm. Sure enough, he pulled out the dumbbell effortlessly. After a couple of test pumps, he felt inclined to toss the weighted workout implement up. When it came down, he caught it quite easily. A smile now formed on Harvey's lips. He tried the next heaviest dumbbell at 5 lbs. After test-pumping it, he gave this weight a toss. He was able to catch it, but he could feel a more pronounced sense of gravity. He concluded that the next one up...at 8 lbs...would remain in his hand. As he began to pump with an 8 lb dumbbell, he heard the faint sound of breathing behind him. Startled, he turned around... ...and found himself face to face with Rosa, the busty platinum blonde he and her wife had met coming out of an elevator days before. Rosa herself was visibly startled upon seeing Harvey whip around to face her. "Oh!" She giggled infectiously. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to scare you." "Oh...you're that dish from the elevator." Harvey flashed a grin. "Rosa, right?" "Mm-hmmm," Rosa nodded, already laying on the charm. "So you were a soldier boy, eh?" "Yes, ma'am." Placing the dumbbell back on the weights rack, he stood at attention and saluted the busty blonde. "Sergeant Harvey Betancourt of the 82nd Airborne Division at your service." "Oooh...a Sergeant, too," Rosa purred. "But...Barry called you a war hero?" Harvey giggled as he lowered his saluting arm. "I wish! War heroes get to meet the President of the United States. Those guys are winners of the Congressional Medal of Honor. All I could ever manage was a Purple Heart and a Silver Star." "That's enough of a war hero for me, honey," Rosa stepped in closer. "Whoa, hold on there, Rosie Riveter." The old soldier raised up his hands in restraint. "I'm a happily married man. Wouldn't give up the dish I chose before I enlisted for anyone. You shoulda seen Glennie in her prime. That woman could turn heads. Had to fight off a lotta guys when she came outta her shell." Rosa pouted playfully. "You don't like me?" "Oh no, I never said that..." Harvey placed a hand on the pouting woman's shoulder. "...just giving you a lil' reminder is all. I don't mind making a few new friends. Especially if one of 'em is a dish like you. Ladies like you an' Glennie put the Betties to shame." Rosa tilted her head to the side curiously. "Betties?" Harvey nodded. "Betty Grable, and Betty Boop." "Ohhh, right." Rosa did an impromptu mimic of Betty Boop's voice as she moved like the animated character. "Boop-boop-pee-doo! POOP!" "There ya go," Harvey amusedly remarked. "Heh, heh...good ol' days." "Wanna ride a bike with me?" A grinning Rosa then asked. Harvey chuckled again. "'Fraid I don't have one, Rosie." "No, silly! I meant the workout bikes!" She gestured to the nearby workout cycles. "Oh! Oh, yeah, sure," he replied as Rosa led him over, smiling. "Can you set it up for me, though? 'Fraid I'm not much for all this new technology stuff. Needed my son to set up my bank account on that...that computer they have. Still can't quite figure out the internet." Rosa showed Harvey the basics of the workout bike's computerized programs, and she punched in the easiest settings possible before settling onto the bike next to the one Harvey took. As they began pedaling, the image of a quiet street in a pleasant suburb showed up on the black screen between the handlebars, providing the illusion of actually bicycling on a clear summer morning. "So which war were you involved in?" Rosa asked, turning her head to Harvey curiously as they both began pedaling. "When I enlisted, airborne divisions were the new thing in the U.S. Army," Harvey explained. "So our british friends had us take part in the largest airborne operation ever executed. Over thirty thousand men. Our 82nd and the 101st were invited to what they thought would be a nice little party. They had a polish brigade join them for it, too. Operation Market Garden. Seein' as how D-Day kicked the shit outta those Nazis, they figured they could drop us in to capture some bridges along a single road, and help 'em get a bunch of tanks over the rhine to wreck their war factories and have us all home in time for Christmas," He then sighed regretfully. "I'm just glad we were able to get the Grave bridge. Wish it went as smoothly for the others." Rosa frowned. "What do you mean?" "If you ask the brits who dreamed up this operation, they'd tell you the plan was...mostly successful," Harvey lamented. "But to everyone else, it was clear that the operation was a costly failure because we were told that the opposition was gonna be light. Hitler youth, and old men. They sent us in with rifles and machine guns, and while that was good enough to take the Grave bridge, the boys who had to get the other bridges along the route found themselves dealing with two full tank divisions instead." Rosa's eyes widened. "Goddess...!" "Yeah...it got bad pretty quickly for the 1st Airborne at Arnhem bridge," Harvey continued as his eyes remained on the road simulator between the handlebars. "The 101st ran into some hard times, too. I guess we were the lucky ones. Damn krauts blasted a bridge along the route at Son en Breughel, too. Ol' Colonel Sink had to get a Bailey bridge installed which threw the whole operation off. Everything went downhill from there." "How did you get your Purple Heart?" Rosa curiously asked. "Don't they give those to wounded soldiers?" "Yup!" Harvey answered. "I got a little over-zealous comin' out of cover in our approach to the bridge. My leg took a couple o' rounds from an MP40 machine gun burst. My buddies flushed that bastard out of cover with their Thompsons, and I got that sneaky Jerry just above his eyes with my Garand. Those kraut shots hurt like hell, lemme tell ya. I was on three legs ever since." "Your legs look just fine to me, Sarge," Rosa purred, grinning. "Well, now, they do," Harvey noted. "I don't know what they put in that bath water, but...I'm quite frankly happy to be movin' around without that cane." "You should have seen what I looked like before I came here," Rosa reminisced. "Just a dumpy, curly-haired ol' bat moving around like a snail. I was probably just as scared as you were to see...and to feel...what that pink water did to me. I heard your wife thought she was being poisoned." "Yeah, I heard that too," Harvey responded. "I think she's still worried. Me? I've stared death in the face once before. Guess I'm just goin' with this one. Y'know...see how far it takes me." "Neither one of you have anything to worry about," Rosa assured. "Give it a few more days. You'll probably look just as hot as I do now. You said Glennie used to be...like me? I'm looking forward to seeing how much better she looks after those few days...and if there's anything about her looks that she wants to improve? There's a place in the city's mall that I can recommend." "Really? Well! I'll let her know that." Harvey began to feel a bit fatigued, so he eased his pedaling. "Mmm. This bike thing ain't bad. Oughta use it more often." Rosa also stopped, and dismounted her bike machine, smiling to the old, and now sweaty-looking soldier. "I like talking to you, Sergeant. I hope we can do this again sometime." Although he smiled back, he also brought up his wedding ring in emphasis of his wary reminder. "Just as long as you know your boundaries, Rosie." Rosa giggled. "Fully understood. Besides...if you don't mind, I'd like to take your wife with me to the mall sometime. See if I can't convince her to become a cougar like me." Harvey chuckled. "Ehh, why not? I miss bein' able to defend my Glennie Doll. Makes me feel like a real knight in shinin' armor." The platinum blonde once again stepped in close to the old soldier, who once again looked wary... ...but Rosa's lips pressed against Harvey's lightly-wrinkled forehead instead, before stepping back. Rosa's pleasant smile lingered as she backtracked towards the gym's entranceway. "You deserve what the next few days are gonna bring you, Sergeant Betancourt. You're a good man." Harvey just shrugged, smiling back. "I try!" * * * "Ah-nald Schvaaat-za!" Pavel Silvetsky called in from outside the garage. "Car out front! Eez Mazda!" Sighing in mild irritation, Arnold emerged from the garage. He had been at work on a transmission job when his boss yelled for him. Pausing a moment to wipe the beads of sweat from his face, he stepped out of the garage... ...and sure enough, a cherry red Mazda MX-5 stood idle near the garage. Pavel stepped away from the driver side, allowing Arnold to get a look at the busty blond...and somewhat wicked-looking...young driver. She was apparently finishing a touch-up on her makeup when Arnold appeared. The moment the middle-aged man laid eyes upon this woman, he was transfixed by her particularly sinful beauty. The tight, low-cut top of her backless, one-piece white dress placed emphasis on her cleavage, and her platinum blond hair was attractively teased. When she turned her head so that her eyes met his, a predatory smile formed on the young woman's lips. "I think I'm having engine trouble," she began. "Would you check it out for me?" Arnold's eyes seemed to alternate between the young woman's face, and her cleavage. The way she was seated in the car, she seemed to be giving him an ideal view of them. A layer of fresh moisturizer seemed to make them glitter in the sunlight. Just as the very sexy-looking driver thought her request went unheeded, Arnold seemed to come to his senses. "Sorry...engine?" he finally blurted out. "Yes, honey," the woman confirmed. "I always like my cars to run perfectly." Arnold nodded, smiling, as he stepped over to the car's hood. "I just...need you to pop the hood, Miss." This earned him a sultry smile. She also brought up a finger and gestured for the infatuated auto mechanic to come closer. Sure enough, he curiously stepped over to her, as if he were a trout being reeled in by an angler. Still grinning lasciviously, the woman's face came close to Arnold's, the tip of her nose within an inch of his. "Why don't you pop the hood for me?" She cooed. "The lever..." She pointed at a space beneath the steering wheel, and between her legs. "...is right down there." "U-uhh...sure, Miss." Arnold then reached down to where the lever was located and wrapped his fingers around it... ...but the busty woman's legs suddenly came together, effectively trapping Arnold's arm between the warmth of her hairless gams. He turned his head, puzzled, to the woman, who giggled. "Sorry...I'm feeling a little...frisky today," the woman explained. "You don't mind, do you, Arnold?" The auto mechanic frowned in confusion, but he then remembered that his jumpsuit had his first name on it. He shook his head in response to her inquiry. "Shouldn't you be examining my engine?" the woman asked. "Could I...could I have my arm back?" Arnold sheepishly asked. "Don't be rude," the sexy young woman chided, in a stern and assertive tone. "Ask me nicely, bitch." "Uhh...c-could I...could I please have my arm back?" This was apparently acceptable enough for the woman's surprisingly strong upper thighs to part once again, freeing Arnold's arm. The woman's tone turned nasty now. "Now get to work on my engine, bitch, or I'll go elsewhere to get my car fixed." Arnold hurried back over to the hood and pulled it all the way up. Examining the engine, he saw that the only thing really wrong with it was that it needed a cleaning. Without another word, he went right to work. The woman at the steering wheel...who actually had knowledge of Arnold Betancourt...smiled wickedly as the mechanic, who she was aware was taking advantage of his own grandparents with his wife's help, busied himself with cleaning her otherwise flawless car's dirty engine. The oafish Pavel Silvetsky also found himself staring at the blond woman the entire time, but when the woman noticed the fat Russian staring, she was quick to deflect him with a harshly-worded rebuke. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT??" the woman had angrily barked. As Pavel went back inside the garage, Arnold was finishing his cleaning procedure by hosing down the engine. Every time Arnold glanced to the sinfully attractive blonde, she either gave him an enticing wink, or a puckered smooch. Once Arnold had toweled down the wet engine, he went back over to the woman, who already had her credit card out. That wasn't all she gave him, either. She gave him a second card that felt less like a credit card, and more like a business card. The white card, in raised lettering, read the following... IRIS COOPER Disciplinarian Arnold had a somewhat dopey smile on his face as he handed Iris her pink-colored bill receipt. "Here you go, Iris. Nice to..." "You wanna see me again?" Iris interjected, raising an eyebrow. "Bitch?" His more sensible side wanted to say no. Wanted to remind this incredibly attractive woman that he was married. Married to someone who was...or rather, had become...largely uninteresting compared to Iris, whose sense of assertiveness excited the auto mechanic. "Yes," he quietly responded. Once again, Iris brought up an index finger, and gestured for Arnold to come close. She brought her cherry red lips right up to his ear. "Then call me, BITCH!!" She loudly growled the last word. Shoving Arnold's head away, Iris gunned the freshly-cleaned engine and roared away from the Rip-N-Ride. Once Iris was gone, Pavel stepped over to the space next to Arnold, looking in the direction the Mazda was roaring away to. "Eez nasty whore, da?" Pavel asked. Arnold remained quiet, contemplating a moment in which he could call this woman without arousing his wife's suspicion. Because he really wanted to see her again. * * * - Tenchion '< : Very nice, Terri. How does it feel to wear them? - SissiTerri '< : Weird. - SissiTerri '< : i can't hide my dick in them. - Tenchion '< : Awwww, poor baby. Maybe you should buy a pacifier next. - Tenchion '< : And a diaper to go with it. - SissiTerri '< : i'm not a baby! - Tenchion '< : THEN STOP COMPLAINING. - SissiTerri '< : Can i take them off now? - Tenchion '< : Do you want Federal agents to bust down your door tomorrow? - SissiTerri '< : No! - Tenchion '< : Then KEEP WEARING THEM. And don't forget to wash them, too. - Tenchion '< : Starting tomorrow, you're going to start wearing something else. Something that matches the color of those cute panties. - Tenchion '< : Get yourself a bra. - SissiTerri '< : OH COME ON. i'M A GUY! - Tenchion '< : I have the Feds on speed dial, Terri. Shall I call them? - Tenchion '< : Or will you do what I tell you to do? - SissiTerri '< : Yes, Madame Olivia. - Tenchion '< : If you're lying to me about going to get that bra, believe me. I will know. - Tenchion '< : Go before the stores close. - Tenchion '< : Go now. ----===*CHAT TERMINATED*===---- * * * Tobias was able to get to Rubie's Mall about an hour, thankfully, before the city's most popular shopping mecca closed. Fortunately, when he picked up the pink panties he was still wearing, he noticed that there was a matching bra that went with it. Knowing where he had found the panties, he knew where to go. There were three others in the mall, and one of them...a weird-looking girl with bizarrely-bloated lips...was on her smartphone. The other two were more normal-looking girls. A couple of them glanced at Tobias as he hurried in and went over to the ladies' underwear section. One frowned in disbelief, while the other just giggled a bit before turning away. The girl with the big lips also glanced to Tobias, and apparently, the sight of him apparently gave her more incentive to share amusing mutters to whomever she was speaking to. The blushing young man ignored them all as he hurried over to the section of the retailer he needed to return to, and began rummaging through the underwear pairs. When he initially picked up the panties, he had to admit to the cashier that he separated the panties from the matching bra, expecting to be told that it needed to be bought in pairs. Fortunately, the cashier let it slide. I should have picked up the pair in the first place. He mused to himself as he reached for the idle pink bra. He stared down at the bra for a long moment. Rationale formed in his mind. It's not like I'm ever going to be asked to take off my clothes at school. Tobias reasoned. They'll be hidden. I should be fine. He certainly hoped that wearing female underwear...something he would be able to feasibly hide...would be the only thing he would be forced to wear. From the heavy scent of perfume he picked up on while he was standing in that same spot, he surmised that the girl with the big lips was gonna pass behind him. She was already off of her smartphone, and was now heading over to where he was lingering. But instead of passing him, she stopped right behind him. He chose to continue facing away from her, minding his own business, although the perfume she was wearing was strangely more pleasant to whiff at close range. "What the fuck are you doing in this section, perv?" The girl then asked. "You some kind of closet sissy or something?" "No, no," Tobias muttered, still keeping his eyes forward. "It's for my...my sister." A long moment of silence followed. Tobias tried to buy time by rummaging through the same row of underwear he had been looking at. The young woman with the big lips, however, did not move away, nor did she say anything. He felt her eyes on him, though, as if she was examining him with her eyes. "I don't believe you," the girl then remarked. "I think you're full of shit. I think you're buying these for yourself, perv." He had thought about just stepping away and going to the cashier to buy the bra and be done with the encounter...but the scent of the perfume seemed to hold him in place. He wanted to breathe in more of it. "Turn around and look at me, girly-boy!" As she spoke, he felt a sharp pinch at the back of his neck which forced him to wince. He spun around angrily, glaring at the woman. "HEY! Don't touch me like that!" Tobias growled. "What'cha gonna do, big, bad man? Hit me? They'll throw your ass in jail for that," the big-lipped woman challenged, glaring back as she craned her head forward. "Maybe put you in a cell with a big, black, muscle- bound fag who gets horny around little white sissy boys like you." "I'm not a sissy!" Tobias's voice broke as he said these words. "Yeah, you need that, don't you, sissy?" She snaked a hand behind his head and grabbed a handful of the young man's hair roughly. "You want a big, strong, tasty chocolate stud to lust after. You wanna melt in his mouth. You wanna be owned. You wanna lick your lips as you stare at his rock hard pecs." Tobias swallowed hard. Why were these lurid suggestions making him so aroused all of a sudden? "No! No...I..." "What? You don't like black people?" The big-lipped girl asked, giving him an accusing stare. "Are you a racist? You use the 'n' word around them, don't you? You must be one of those white supremacists. Yeah...you've always been hating on the black man, haven't you?" Tobias shook his head vigorously. "No! No, no, I don't! I...I don't mind, I...I like...chocolate...!" "Oh, you do, do you?" The young woman now had a wicked expression on her face as she pressed against him. "I fucking knew it, you lying, limp- wristed homo. I bet you wanna dream about lying in bed against a hard, brown, sweaty body...rubbing your hands slooowly against his ripped abs...feeling him squeeze and smack your big, fat booty..." "Noooo, no...I mean..." It was now impossible for Tobias to keep from looking completely flustered, although his cock was getting more erect. "...I like chocolate like, you know, the candy pecs...I-I mean, chocolate! Chocolate, not...not the, the...you know..." "Yes, you do." The provocative woman stared right into his eyes as she spoke. "Yes, you do. Don't deny it, you trashy ho. You want it as badly as you want big tits and a huge ass. You wanna run your tongue over his body and taste his salty sweat. You wanna feel his hands squeeze your big boobs while he drives his huge, juicy chocolate cock into you. You need that sexual chocolate soooo badly." "No! No, I don't! I...no!" He was now visibly upset. "Who the hell are you, anyway? Leave me alone!" She now pulled his head in so that her large lips were very close to his ear. Her grip was surprisingly strong. "You're gonna be a dirrrrty little hussy for the black man," she then whispered, hissing right into his ear. "It's all you're gonna think about...all you're gonna dream about..." She practically purred the words as Tobias went slack-jawed. "...being owned...getting fucked...you're gonna be such a horny little ho," She hissed enticingly. Emily then pulled his head back, maintaining her painfully tight grip on his hair. "Now go pay for that bra, girly-boy...and don't you ever lie to Miss Emily again, or I'll tell a security guard you tried to rape me!" She then shoved Tobias away from her. Shaking off his mysterious daze, the flustered young man rubbed at the neck area where he was pinched, and then hurried over to the waiting cashier to pay for the bra, fighting off a dizzy spell as he moved. Emily waited for the young man she had so mercilessly tormented to leave before she approached a recyclable trash bin outside of the store and discarded a small, plastic, disposable, tear-shaped object. She then pulled out her smartphone to contact Olivia Tench. * * * Glenda's eyes stared at the image of a selfie she had taken of herself after she came out of her first bath in the rejuvenating water. There were only mild changes from the way she looked coming into the Golden Sunshine Retirement Home. Her eyes then returned to the mirror in her room. Aside from long, single streaks of silvery gray hair, which seemed to indicate that these were the last lengths of hair that were in the process of revitalizing, Glenda's hair was now a wavy golden blonde, and about as long as they used to be, reaching down to her shoulders. The hair was full and lustrous as well. Her face now looked much more youthful as well. Any trace of the old woman she used to be, in her face, was gone. Glancing to the old, restored photograph of her and her husband, she saw that her facial visage had become identical to that of the older photo. Looking down at her hand, she saw that the large liver spots that were on the back of her hand were nothing more than small, and insignificant dots now. The skin was no longer wrinkled, and her body was not shaking any further. It was refreshing to be able to stand straight up, too. The old woman that she used to be hunched forward a bit whenever she walked. Thanks to the rejuvenating water of the tub she had been taking advantage of(twice in one day on one occasion), walking with a much improved posture was no longer an issue. A big smile formed on her lips. What a dish. Glenda approvingly thought to herself. I can't believe this is really ME! Her eyes then went to her chest, which was far more prominent than they used to be. In fact, compared to the photo, her breasts looked noticeably bigger. They had fantastic definition, too, as she began to feel and grope around the generous mammaries. These should take Harvey's mind off of those other sluts. Glenda amusingly thought to herself as she grinned at her own reflection. But what followed these revelations came an inescapable problem. I can't walk around, looking like this, in the stuff I have in my dresser. She surmised to herself. I'll look totally ridiculous! She began rummaging around her clothes for something that would at least be marginally acceptable as something to wear. Something casual, she figured. All she found, however, were drab blouses and bland slacks, all of which were far more suited to the old woman she used to be. Glenda hung her head helplessly. She was tempted to put a call in to the front desk to see if they could help. Perhaps Barry? A knock on the door of her apartment interrupted her thinking, and she hurried over to it. Opening the door a crack, she peered out...and saw the busty blonde from the elevator standing there, waiting patiently. She wore a tight white dress that reminded Glenda of Marilyn Monroe's iconic outfit from the movie The Seven Year Itch. Rosa grinned, waving a hand upon spotting the single eye peering out from the door crack. "Hi, Mrs. Betancourt. It's Rosalind. Can I come in for a bit?" Glenda frowned. "What do you want?" Glenda marveled for a brief moment over how different...how much more clear...her voice now sounded. "If you're looking for Harvey, he's not..." "Oh, I didn't come here to see Harvey, Mrs. Betancourt," Rosa interjected. "I came here to see you." This made Glenda a little more curious. "Are you...dressed?" Rosa surmised aloud. "If not, don't worry. We're both women here. I won't mind if you're naked." Glenda smirked. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Hesitantly, she pulled the door open wider. "Get in. Quick." Rosa wiggled her way in, after which Glenda quickly shut the door. The golden blond-haired woman blushed as Rosa turned to face her. A wide smile formed on her face as she stared at the new tenant's rejuvenated body in the buff. "Wooooow," Rosa purred. "Look at you! Harvey was right! You look hot!" Glenda frowned. "You've been seeing my Harvey?" "Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Betancourt." Rosa raised her hands in restraint. "I did see him, but...all we did was talk, and ride workout bikes together in that new gym. We didn't do anything else." Glenda looked skeptical. "If I find out otherwise from my Harvey, I'm gonna storm your beach and kick your bouncy keester all over this hotel, blondie!" "I swear to you. We didn't do anything," Rosa reinforced. "We just talked. He's a very nice man, Mrs. Betancourt. He spoke very highly of you. Swore he'd never betray you. He showed me his ring, too. Just to remind me. Now that I see how you look now, I can see why he's so faithful." The platinum blonde's words sounded sincere enough, so Glenda began to let her guard down. A slight smile was now on her lips, but at the same time, there was regret in her voice as she responded. "I...wish I had better clothes to go with...how I look." "Which is why I came by, Mrs. Betancourt," Rosa noted. "I'd like to help you with that. I'm going to Rubie's Mall today, and I'd like you to come with me." "But I can't," Glenda lamented. "I've got nothing to wear. All of my dresses...they look like..." "Shit?" Rosa mused. She then gave Glenda's body a contemplative scan, working out her dimensions. "Well...hmmm...I think I can find something for you to wear among my own things, if you don't mind waiting for me." "Uhhh...s-sure," the golden blond woman shrugged. "Oh...and call me Glenda. Please." Rosa nodded, smiling. "I'll be right back, Glenda." As she idled, waiting for the platinum blonde to return, there was little else Glenda could do but to turn on the TV and do a bit of channel-surfing. As Harvey was out reawakening his old habit of jogging, the time passed quietly, and Glenda could not find too many interesting shows to linger on aside from a brief summary of the local news. Once again, there was a knock on the door. When Glenda opened it, Rosa presented a dress that was identical to hers. A big grin was on her face as she held it up to her. Once again hurrying her inside the apartment, Glenda had another frown on her face. "You expect me to wear that without..." In Rosa's other hand was a bag, which contained clean underwear. "...oh." "All this should fit you," Rosa assured. "If it's a little bigger, seeing as how I'm a little taller than you, I can see about making a fix here and there. Just until you get new threads." Glenda nodded. "I'm just glad I've got loafers that still fit me." "Glenda...when we come out of that mall, you'll be wearing something far more sexy than a boring pair of loafers," Rosa noted, grinning. Rosa gave Glenda a hand fitting the dress, which did turn out to be a bit larger than Rosa expected, but she had brought bobby pins with her, and she made subtle alterations to make the dress look much more acceptable. Looking at herself, Glenda marveled at how really good she looked! She spun around, watching the loose skirt area's reaction. One of the things she made a mental note to get at the Mall was a curling iron. She already had ideas for her revitalized hair, which in her younger years she was particularly adept at reshaping. She wondered if it would be possible for wartime hairstyles to make a comeback in the modern age. "Follow my lead, honey," Rosa moved to the front door of the apartment, making the mental leap to the other young woman...Nina Franklin...that she had convinced to make over not too long ago. "We're gonna fill those dresser drawers with much better clothes by the time we're done today." Glenda smiled thoughtfully as she followed Rosa out. "I-I'd like that." * * * "Angelo...where's Ruth?" Leslie asked when the dedicated server stepped into her back office. Angelo shrugged. "Guess she's gonna be late." "That's not good," The older woman griped. "We have an important visitor coming today. I needed all hands on deck for this one. It's someone from upper management." "Really? A Loris executive?" Angelo's eyes widened as he spoke the words. "Did Ruth call?" Leslie asked. "Did she say anything about being sick?" "No, but..." Angelo seemed hesitant to admit this, but he decided to throw caution to the winds, and just blurt it out, seeing as how he regarded Ruth as a friend. "...well, you were pretty hard on her yesterday, Les. It wouldn't surprise me if she chose not to work today because she needed to see a shrink or something." "She needs to tell me about these things, though," Leslie remarked. "24 hour notice. She's worked here long enough to know that." Angelo's face went serious. "Honestly, Les? She deserves a little more respect. Her attendance record has been nearly flawless. She's done everything you've asked her to do, and yet you still treat her as if she's..." "Angelo, enough," She sharply interjected. "I want everyone in uniform and out in the kitchen area in fifteen minutes. No exceptions." Angelo huffed a loud sigh. "Right..." He then turned to head down the hall to the locker room area of the fast food restaurant's lower level. This at least gives me a reason to get rid of that Ruth. Leslie mused to herself as she fixed up her uniform's cravat. I've had more than enough of her...and if Angelo doesn't like it, I'll just kick him to the curb as well. About 20 minutes later, the Loris executive...a woman named Luella Hammond...arrived and stood before Leslie and her serving staff after Leslie introduced her. "Good morning, everyone," Luella, a very professional-looking black woman with braided hair, began. "First off, I want to let you know that your working records will be reviewed and we will consider them in the restructuring that will begin today." Leslie frowned in confusion upon hearing this. "Restructuring?" "We heard about the 'C' rating that this restaurant location received, and about the others in Bullchester which were given a 'B' grade," Luella explained. "This has forced us to re-evaluate the franchise as a whole, and we've decided to commit to some more health-conscious modifications to the franchise's overall image. This may result in a name change, as well. When this place re-opens, it may not be called 'Great Big Cal's' anymore." Gina's eyes glanced to Leslie, who looked visibly concerned over this unexpected news. "Now I don't want anyone to think that we're just gonna get rid of you all," Luella raised her hands in emphasis of this. "As I said, we're reviewing your records, and I can already tell you, so far, that there are people in this room right now who will be kept on staff as servers. There will be some required re-orientation, however, so I want to let you all know that in advance. Now...is everyone who is currently on staff present today? Are there absentees I should know about." "Just one," Leslie quickly answered. "A server named Ruth Pankin." A look of disgust was now on the faces of all the servers, including Angelo. They were able to hear a kind of eagerness in their hated manager's voice. What they heard next, however, made them visibly curious. "We...know about Miss Pankin," Luella replied. "Is this everyone else, though?" Leslie nodded, although she too was puzzled about the executive deflecting Ruth's absence. Luella switched her attention back to the group of servers. "Okay...what I need you all to do is wait in the Locker Room and wait for us to call you in. We'll be using the Manager's office for the interviews. We'll call in as many employees as possible before we break for lunch, and then cover the rest of them before the day is out. We're gonna start with your Manager, Leslie Betancourt, and then go from there." "Soooo...the restaurant is closed today?" Angelo curiously asked. "As of today, Great Big Cal's no longer exists, so yes," Luella answered. "We're gonna start taking down the signs and begin full renovations within the next couple of days." "How long will it take before the new place is up and running?" Gina asked. "Oh, 'bout a month or so, give or take," Luella responded. "Those who are being kept will continue to receive paychecks during the restructuring unless you decide to quit during that time." This started a bit of quiet murmuring, much of it positive, among the servers. "So that's it for now." Luella flashed a cordial smile. "If there's anything in the kitchen or the serving area that you need to grab, today may be your only chance to get it as we'll be swapping out the cooking machines for new ones. Right now, I need you all to go back to the Locker Room." A couple of the servers continued to mutter to each other as they stepped away. Leslie remained with Luella as they headed over to the Manager's Office. Once Luella and Leslie settled into seats, Leslie was quick to make her initial line of inquiry. "So...what's the story with Ruth Pankin?" "Not important right now." Luella sounded a bit direct in her tone now. "Miss Betancourt...as the manager of this restaurant, were you aware of the violations the Inspector discovered before his visit?" Leslie went quiet for a long moment. "I...I, uh...I...told...Angelo...to take care of it, but...he kept me waiting." It was the furthest thing from a blunt truth which would have meant her job, but she had no other cards to play in that moment. "I kept telling him to call about restocking..." Luella held up a hand, silencing Leslie. "That's not the kind of answer I need to hear, Mrs. Betancourt. This restaurant location...nestled within a very popular mall...has over 28 violations. When you're the manager, the responsibility falls to you to address it." "I did, though!" Leslie whined. "I even brought up the importance of the NAACP to Angelo." Luella's eyes widened in her confusion. "Excuse me?" Leslie shrugged, smiling meekly. "You know...the NAACP! That...that safety checklist thing!" Luella shifted in her chair, rubbing her head in disbelief. "Mrs. Betancourt...are you sure you're not talking about the HACCP?" "Yeah! That!" Leslie responded. "What did I say?" "You said the NAACP," Luella smirked. "They're two completely different things. You...do know what the HACCP is, and why it's so important, right?" Leslie nodded, even though she now felt like she was fighting a losing battle. "Yes!" Luella leaned forward. "Tell me a little more about the HACCP, then. What are the seven basic principles of this system?" Leslie just stared forward. Quietly. All she cared about in getting the management job at Great Big Cal's was the money. She had been told by friends that such confrontations about matters like this would be extremely rare. She had also been the manager for a little over two years at this particular location. At no time had she ever been grilled like this by upper management. She began to wonder if this was a veiled plot of some kind. Or...did news of the sick kid who threw up all over the restaurant reach upper management? Were there similar incidents in the other restaurants? If Leslie were able to prove this, she could boomerang accusations and perhaps win a lawsuit! Luella finally broke the uneasy silence. "I take it by your complete lack of answers that you honestly don't know what I'm talking about. We need much more responsible and knowledgeable people in the management position here when we reopen, Mrs. Betancourt. I'm afraid today is going to be your last day working here." "Bu...wait! Wait!" Leslie's tone was desperate. "If you're restructuring, I can go through re-orientation and get better acquainted with management responsibilities. Can't you give me another chance?" "Maybe if you had gotten a 'B' grade," Luella responded. "But a C is the worst possible grade. That tells us that you somehow got this management job as a matter of circumstance rather than professional experience. I know your type, too. People like you prefer the luxury of a daily paycheck over quality and responsibility. We can't have someone like that working here. I'm sorry, Mrs. Betancourt. We'll mail you your final paycheck. We'll need you to clear out your locker, and whatever personal stuff you have in this office." Leslie was clearly aghast as she rose up. "Luella...Mrs. Hammond... please don't fire me! Give me one more chance! I...I promise I'll improve!" Luella, however, looked resolute as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Betancourt. There are other mitigating factors in this decision." Leslie's hands went to her hips. "Name one," she then challenged. Luella's expression went sour, and her tone became accusatory. "Ethics. I don't expect to hear too many of your people telling me that you're a fair and just manager to work with. Especially if you make them work through their mandated break periods. Now please begin clearing out your personal stuff, and then your locker. When you go to the locker room, have Angelo Mullins come to the management office. Thank you, Mrs. Betancourt. That will be all." Dumbfounded and astonished, Leslie stood there for another couple of seconds before she finally wandered out of the Management Office, drifting like a zombie towards the Locker Room. She briefly thought about suing Loris International, but she had a feeling that would ultimately go nowhere. * * * "Hello? Oh, hi, honey! How are you? What's the matter? You sound upset! What?" Arnold listened to his wife's lamentations over losing her job as he held his smartphone to his ear. "Aww, honey...that's terrible to hear. You know what they say, though...where one chapter of your life ends, another must begin elsewhere. Just see if you can get another job. I'm sure there are plenty of opportunities...huh? Oh, well...Pavel needs me to work overtime, honey. I'm in his office at the Garage. We can talk more about it when I get back home, okay? I gotta go, honey. I'll see you later." Even as Leslie continued to speak, Arnold hung up, and then turned the smartphone off. He placed the phone on the nearby table beside the large bed. The auto mechanic, clad only in a pair of women's panties, then turned to the lasciviously-grinning Iris Cooper and slid towards her naked body lying on the smooth satin sheets of the bed. "Now, where were we?" Iris purred lustfully as she took the unfaithful mechanic back in her arms, connecting her lips with his once again as the 'disciplinarian' snaked a hand up to his right shoulder. After a few minutes of passionate kissing and writhing, Arnold felt a sharp sting at his shoulder. Iris was able to move her hand away before the mechanic's startled reaction betrayed what she had done. "What the fuck?" Arnold murmured, frowning in his confusion. He then turned his head to Iris... ...who just shrugged, smiling meekly. "Bees." He rubbed at his shoulder, expecting to feel a stinger... ...but Iris was quick to divert his attention by once again locking lips with him, an attempt that easily did the trick. Iris was able to toss away the tear-shaped plastic object she had injected Arnold with without the oblivious mechanic noticing. She then flipped him onto his back so that she could be on top. "You're a very shameful man, Arnold Betancour." Iris glared down at him. "What would your son say if he saw you like this with me?" Arnold just shrugged, smiling. "He's a tough kid. He'll adapt." * * * Tobias quickly pulled his pants back up after taking the required selfie. He heaved out a shaky, nervous breath, despite the fact that he was able to get through his school day without anyone getting suspicious about what he was wearing underneath his clothes. It was a particularly tough day to get through in any case, as he found himself staring at some of the black jocks at school a little more than usual. He even, unconsciously, bit his lower lip as he entertained lustful thoughts he never imagined would manifest. He found a strange comfort, however, in the feel of what he was hiding beneath his pants. He could hear the sheer, tight fabric as his legs moved. What the hell is wrong with me? The young man argued to himself, holding his head worriedly. After idling for a few minutes, wrestling with his own thoughts, the time for him to open up the Speakabout chat window had arrived. After downloading the fresh selfie to the 'Tenchion' handle, he waited. * * * - Tenchion '< : Mmmm. You look good in pantyhose, Terri. Do you like how they feel against your skin? - SissiTerri '< : Yes, Madame Olivia. - Tenchion '< : Have you been washing your new undergarments, Terri? - Tenchion '< : Well? - SissiTerri '< : i...figured i'd wait until wash day, Madame Olivia. - Tenchion '< : Which is...when? - SissiTerri '< : Couple of days. - Tenchion '< : Oh? So you're going to keep wearing dirty underwear until then? Goddess, you're such a whore, Terri. I should think of a new name for you. - Tenchion '< : Change your name to 'ChocolateWhore'. Change the font color to brown. - ChocolateWhore '< : Yes, Madame Olivia. - Tenchion '< : Good girl. Now I have added a bit of money to your checking account, but I only want you to use it to get more of what you're wearing. More panties. More bras. More pantyhose. Don't spend it on anything else, or I'm calling the Feds. Understood? - ChocolateWhore '< : Yes, Madame Olivia. - Tenchion '< : Get enough to last you for the week. I want selfies taken for everything you buy tomorrow. Then start wearing a different set each day. - ChocolateWhore '< : When do i get to see You again, Madame Olivia? - Tenchion '< : I will decide when you get to see me again. Until then, we are going to keep up with your training every single day. - ChocolateWhore '< : Training? - Tenchion '< : I have more images for you. I think you'll like these even more than the ones you already have. - ChocolateWhore '< : Wait...what do You mean by training? * * * But the images were already being uploaded. The first one immediately held the young man's attention. He felt his cock hardening quickly. It was a picture of a large, bald black man in a bushy mustache. Save for a male thong, he was completely naked, and apparently showing off his muscles. Another image followed. A different pose, but the same man. This time, he had water being sprayed on his back from a shower head. The person holding the shower head could not be seen. Tobias began to pant. His eyes widened, and his mouth hung open. Another image, this one placing emphasis on the same man's back muscles. He still looked wet, and Tobias could see the beads of water upon his bare body. He made the mental leap to sweat as his cock became even more erect. He wanted to be there. He wanted to rub his body against this man. Feel the man's arm around his shoulders. He wanted to feel this hard-bodied man's warmth. The young man's panting got louder as he pumped at his cock faster. More images followed. Three of them in rapid succession. The provocative poses made him even more aroused. His mouth watered as a bit of drool leaked from his mouth as he pumped, his eyes locked on yet another image that was added. The same man. Another pose. This time, it was an image of the man, in the black thong, exposed from head to toe lying on a bed. A gush of thick, warm juices emerged from his cockhead as Tobias orgasmed. It was only after he had orgasmed that he realized he was not in the bathroom. On past occasions of him jerking off, the toilet was always the target for his ejaculations. Now he had a bit of a mess on his hands. Figuratively, and literally. Although he certainly returned his eyes to the image of the black man on his computer screen, he had quickly acquired a roll of paper towels to begin wiping up the sticky warm residue that he had generated. Some of it was on the floor, most of it now stained his pink panties. Another chat box suddenly chimed in as Tobias finished cleaning the area of his own cum. - Alex4TW '< : Tobes? - Alex4TW '< : I need your help - Alex4TW '< : Can you come see me, please? Like, now? - Alex4TW '< : PLEASE?? Fortunately, the Speakeasy chat app made it simple to change the name, and the font color. - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : Okay. I'm on my way over. - Alex4TW '< : Go to the backyard. Be quiet about it. I'll come out and meet you there. * * * As Alex's house was a few blocks down the road from his own Barford home, it did not take too long for Tobias to reach his best friend's house. He could hear crickets everywhere as he went, as the skies above were nearly pitch black with the onset of the evening hours. His eyelids narrowed as he moved, hearing how the pantyhose beneath his pants felt as his legs continued rubbing against it. His mind dwelled on the images he had been sent. A part of him wanted to go back to his room and jerk off to these images some more. But after the last chat session he had with Alex, in which he discovered that his Behemongers deck was trashed by his mother, he was far too curious to find out why Alex wanted to see him. Those luscious... ...luscious?... ...chocolate images would have to wait for now. When Tobias arrived, he quietly made his way along the path leading from the front of the house to the backyard. He was able to silently open the door of the wooden, white picket fence gate and step into the backyard area, where he waited. About a minute later, Tobias saw a pair of bespectacled eyes spying on the backyard space from the small window portals of the house's back door. Upon seeing Tobias waiting there, Alex opened the door and quietly slipped outside. When Alex turned to face Tobias, the one thing Tobias noticed right away was that the shirt area of his chest was tented outward. Looking at Alex's face, he saw that his eyes were half-lidded, and his face was sweaty. He was also panting lightly, as if he had ran a couple of miles. His mullet of hair looked a little weird, too. It seemed a bit fuller in volume. He also picked up on the scent of perfume on his best friend. Before Tobias could say anything, his best friend wrapped him in a tight hug. "Ooh...I-I'm so glad you came by...help me...help me, please..." "Alex...what is it?" During the hug, Tobias was able to feel some pressure against his chest. Whatever Alex had under his shirt that was tenting it out certainly wasn't a bundle of clothing. Fake falsies, perhaps? Was this a joke that was being played on him? "I-It's my mom..." Alex's voice also sounded a little weird. A little higher in register. "...she's gone weird...and...and I'm feeling... really strange...hot...I'm ss-so hot inside...I need you...please hold me..." Although Tobias was still mystified, he stayed where he was, wrapping his arms around him comfortably, as Alex continued to embrace him. In between his panting, he heard Alex emit a distinctly feminine moan. "Alex..." Tobias made a possible connection to what 'Madame Olivia' was doing with him. "...w-what have you got in your, um...your chest?" Alex pulled away, but still kept his arms around Tobias as he looked up to him with a somewhat lascivious-looking smile. Standing so close to Alex, he was also able to see that his best friend had a bit of makeup on his face that made Alex's face look distinctly more...female. "Y'wanna see 'em, Tobes?" Alex cooed, as if possessed by some erotic creature apparently compelling him to act like a slut. Tobias blinked. "See...what?" When Alex snaked his arms away from his best friend, his hands went to his shirt, which he pulled up to expose what was being hidden beneath it. Alex, to Tobias's visible shock, sported orbs of flesh which had apparently erupted from around his nipples, the areolae of which were larger than they should be for a male. They looked like they were a C- cup in dimensions. Alex grinned the entire time. He then giggled after seeing his best friend's reaction. "I can't believe they're mine," he admitted in a somewhat breathy tone. "When I feel 'em rub against my shirt...ooooh..." The now effeminate young man groped his own mounds of flesh, panting lustily as he did. Tobias still didn't quite know what to make of this. "Alex...w-when did this..." "You wanna touch 'em?" Alex then asked, still looking at his perplexed friend with a hungry gaze. Tobias swallowed hard, glancing down to his best friend's new breasts once again. "Alex...I..." The back door of the house opened once again. Standing there with a curious expression was Alex's mom, who was clad in a bathrobe. Upon seeing Tobias, her wary expression turned into a pleasant smile. "Oh, hi, Tobias!" Helen Lattimer's perfume...which was identical to the scent Alex was wearing...was fairly strong as she put her arm around her son, who leaned against her lovingly as she spoke in a sugary-sweet manner. "I wasn't aware you were visiting. Did you want to come inside? You haven't been here in a while. I'm sure the two of you have a lot of catching-up to do!" "Uh, no, Mrs. Lattimer..." Tobias began to step towards the door to the picket fence. "...I was just, you know, leaving. It's late, and...I have, um, homework to do." "Awww, okay, dear," Helen chimed as his best friend pouted. "Alexis already finished hers, so I figured you two could play for a bit, but...if you have yet to do your schoolwork, you go right on ahead. You come back anytime you want to visit again, okay?" Tobias saw 'Alexis' give him a lustful wink as he retreated. "Okay, Mrs. Lattimer. Have a good night. I'll see you later, um...Alex...is." Tobias turned around, facing away from his best friend and...her...mother and hurried away from the Lattimer household. He was entirely astonished to have seen what had happened to Alex. His mom, whose appearance looked much, much different than Tobias was used to seeing, had to have been the reason. But were there any connections between whatever happened to Helen Lattimer, and what Madame Olivia was doing with him, he wondered? As he neared his house, he decided to effectively table his concerns about the Lattimers for the moment. There were far more important things for him to do once he was back inside his room. And when he brought up the pictures Olivia had sent him of the bald black man, it was clear that these 'far more important things' that he resumed staring at on his computer screen, as he began jerking off once again, didn't have anything at all to do with schoolwork. * * * Glenda had initially wanted to purchase clothing that was more in line with "her era", as she put it, and while there were stores within Rubie's Mall which did cater to retro fashions, Rosa attempted to talk her into adding more modern styles to her dresser drawers. Three of the shopping bags she had with her by the day's end were filled with fresh new clothing that were considered "retro". One dress in particular he wanted to show off to her husband as a surprise. The remaining two bags, however, were dresses that Rosa had talked Glenda into trying on, and then purchasing. These were wildly provocative and revealing dresses, and ones Glenda surmised was an attempt to make her just as much of a hussy as a part of her still believed Rosa to be. Nevertheless, the shopping spree remained a pleasant one. Glenda shared some of her experiences as a USO Hostess back in the time of the war as they wandered around and window-shopped. Before Glenda could find out more about Rosa's past, however, she had to stop and take a curious look at the storefronts of the much more prominent and notorious place within the mall. An amazingly extensive beautification fixture calling itself the Butterfly Salon. "And this..." Rosa made a flourishing gesture with her arm towards the large storefront. "...is where my life drastically improved. Yours can, too. All you have to do is book an appointment." Glenda, however, remained silent. The look on her face indicated that she was deep in thought as her gaze lingered upon the Salon. She also considered some of the other things that she had picked up during her Mall visit. One implement, in particular. Her next two words visibly surprised Rosa. "Not yet." "Oh, but Glenda..." Rosa turned to face the golden blond woman. "...there's always something about a woman that could be improved! Maybe...just a new hairstyle?" Glenda smiled. "You saw that photo that was in my room, right? The one with me and my husband together?" Rosa nodded. "The hair looked nice, didn't it?" Glenda asked. "Yeah," Rosa admitted. "I liked those curls you had." "Well, you're looking at the ol' gal who made those curls," Glenda revealed. "You're looking at the feisty daughter of a full-on hairdresser, and she passed on her skills to me before she passed on." Rosa raised an eyebrow. "Really?" "In fact, I'll do with you what I did with my husband when he got all skeptical on me. I'll make you a bet," Glenda challenged. "I'll bet you I can look as perfect as I did in that photo, curls and all, without having to come to this place, with everything that I bought today. Other than clothes, that is." Rosa found this notion intriguing. Glenda did, in fact, demand that they go into certain places. She noted that Glenda particularly wanted a curling iron, and she purchased the best, and the most expensive one, the store had. Rosa also had to wonder just how much money was in this woman's account for her to splurge so wildly during the shopping trip. "If I win, I get to work my hair magic on you," Glenda offered. A devious smile now formed on Rosa's face. "If I win, I put you through a full-on makeover here at the Butterfly Salon. Head. To. Toe." Glenda's eyes went between the Salon, and Rosa in her open consideration. She then raised an index finger and leveled it towards Rosa. "You're on, Rosie Riveter." Rosa frowned as they walked away from the Salon. "Your husband called me that, too. Who is that?" Glenda smiled. "He was paying you a compliment, then. Rosie the Riveter was a song that came out in the 40s. It was about a woman who tirelessly contributed to the war effort by toiling on an assembly line, and earned a Production E for her company in so doing." Rosa looked puzzled. "Production E?" "Excellence in Production," Glenda responded. "It's an award a company got from the armed forces for being first-rate. She was practically a standard-bearer for the war effort back home. She flexed a muscle on ads that had her saying 'we can do it!'" She then demonstrated the pose. "So she was, like, a role model for women back then?" "Mm-hmm!" Glenda confirmed. "There wasn't actually a real-life Rosie, though...but they did make a movie out of her." As they walked, Rosa stopped in front of what was once, apparently, a fast-food place, but which now had a wooden barrier in front of it. Two signs were attached to the front of the blue-painted barrier. One indicated that Great Big Cal's was now out of business, although the unlighted sign above the fast-food fixture was still there. The second note indicated that the place was closed for renovations, and would open soon under a new name and a new, more health-conscious food service. Glenda was thoughtful as she gazed upon the wooden barrier. "Wonder how long this place was around?" "It wasn't that old," Rosa replied, somewhat distastefully. "I went here a couple of times when I was a kid. They weren't all that great. I'm actually glad it's gone. Stuck out like a sore thumb in this place. Eat in here for a full week, you'll either get sick, or you'll pack on a few pounds. You should have seen what Maude looked like. She ate here a lot." "And they're closing it now?" Glenda looked surprised. "Funny how someone has to get sick, or die of a heart attack, before any action is taken." Rosa waved a hand in dismissal as they walked away from the now-defunct fast food place. "Good riddance, as far as I'm concerned." * * * Yeah, good fucking riddance. Leslie thought to herself as she drank down a fourth glass of Vodka. I've got money coming my way anyway. Start my own goddamn business in this stinking town. She was among the first patrons of the Bottom of the 9th when it opened, and she had opted, on her first day of being unemployed, to drown her sorrows with as much hard liquor as she could drink. The effects certainly showed in her sweaty, half-lidded face as she stared forward like a zombie. Jimmy McClanleigh, the early shift's bartender, who was a man nearing middle-age with a youthful build, and who had a head of short-cropped brown hair, stepped over after a few glances, still rubbing a towel around a freshly-washed beer glass. "Four glasses, and ye half done with that one," Jimmy observed, his accent clearly betraying his irish origins. "I'd say ye had a bad day, lass." Leslie inescapably slurred her words as she spoke. "When'ze las' time you were ffffired?" Jimmy shrugged. "Two, maybe three times. That was in me youth, though. Then, this man says 'fix me a drink an' I'll give ye a humble future, an' a happy one at that'. So I fix up somethin' I always seen me dad shakin' t'gether. Been workin' here ever since." "Well, I don' fix no drinksh," Leslie slurred. "An' I don' wait no tablesh, eitherrrr," She finished the rest of the vodka in her glass. "Fill 'er up." Jimmy was hesitant, but he pulled out the vodka bottle anyway, and filled it halfway. "Th' ffffuck?" Leslie tapped the glass angrily. "More! More! MORE!" But Jimmy shook his head. "That's ye last call, blondie. No' a drop more. The answer to a bad day is no' ta drink ye'self t' death." Leslie sneered as she stared, irritably, at Jimmy's eyes. "Ffffine." And down the drink went in one gulp. Jimmy just nodded. "Now...unless it's coffee, I'll no' be servin' ye any more hard drinks." "Fffffine," Leslie huffed. She then went into her pocketbook, opened her wallet, and pulled out a dollar, placing it by the empty glass. Jimmy's eyebrows rose up amusedly. "Oh, I'm sorry, lass...was it half- price on Vodka week? That better jus' be the tip!" "It is," A fresh female voice to the right of Leslie asserted. She then stepped next to her. "I'll settle her bill." The dark-haired, stern-faced woman placed $40 on the bar counter before settling herself on the bar stool next to Leslie. "Whatever's left over can pay for her coffee," she added. "Keep the rest." Warily, Jimmy nodded, and then stepped away. The woman seemed to give him an ominous glance as he went to the opposite end of the bar. "How...nicsh of you," Leslie slurred. "Have a wonnn-ful fuckin' day." "Don't do this to yourself," the woman remarked. "Don't let them win." "Who'sh winnin'?" Leslie was only able to make out bare details through her blurred vision. "I'm shurtainly not. I wash...I...ffffired. BOOM." "Okay. You were knocked down," The woman responded. "Now you need to get back up, and filling yourself up with whatever hard drinks you're filling your gut with is not the answer...and if you let me, I'd like to help you." She then presented a hand. "I'm Tanya. I'm a guidance counselor." Although Jimmy still had a wary expression on his face, he still placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of Leslie. "Thank you," Tanya coldly remarked to Jimmy. "You may go now." With a heavy sigh, the bartender drifted away once again. "I don' need it, bu...ffffine," Leslie grumbled. "Got money comin' my way anyway." "Really?" Tanya looked interested. "How so?" After sipping from the presented coffee, Leslie giggled a bit to herself, and then leaned towards Tanya. "My husb'nd n' I? We got so fuckin' sick an' tired o' babysittin' those two ol' farts we had ta move in with us. Took th' whole fuckin' basement. Had t' split it into two rooms! Two ffffuckin' rooms! But they bring in all their really old shit. Schtuff tha' barely works," She stopped to take another sip as Tanya continued to listen. "Bu' my husb'nd gets the idea tha' we can move those stinky ol' fuckers t' some ol' folks home in town, an' have my son get money outta their big ol' bank account, an' we can get a mint for all their old schtuff! Now with eeeeasy money like tha', who needs a fuckin' job?" Tanya flashed a grin. She looked intrigued by this plan. "Is this...something you plan to do, or have you already done it?" "Aww, we got rid o' those diaper-wearin' relics," Leslie answered. "Gave all their schtuff to this 'Angela's Antiques' place, but...they're makin' us wait! Fuckers! Some ol' hag, too. Hasn't called us back yet. She's probably gonna stiff us." "And...what about your son's part in this plan of yours?" Leslie giggled again, leaning in to speak in a discreet tone. Tanya picked up on the vodka in the woman's breath as she spoke. "My husb'nd worked that out. Said that he needed Harvey's account info so they could pay for the 'hotel stay'..." She amusedly mimed quotes here. "...so we gave that...that 'user ID' thing an' th' password Arn got t' my boy." Tanya nodded in her understanding. "Did he get in?" Leslie shrugged. "I have t' ask him. Told 'im t' try a coupla nights ago, but...nev'r heard back from 'im." Tanya nodded again. "Finish up your coffee, dear. When you're done, I'll drive you back home." Leslie frowned. "I got a fuckin' car!" "Keep it where it's parked," Tanya advised. "You can come back for it when you're sober. Now drink up." The dark, curly-haired woman listened to Leslie lament about how she lost her job for the next couple of minutes. Once she finished her coffee, Tanya had Leslie follow her to a silver-colored Sedan. On the way over, Tanya pulled what looked like a bottle of perfume from a pocket of her jacket, and she began misting generously at the sides of her neck. As Leslie was in close range to this spray as she was following the dark-haired woman, she coughed over how powerfully heavy the scent was. Between the booze and the perfume spray, Leslie was hit by a dizzy spell. Tanya, however, managed to get her into the passenger side of the car. "Sorry if the smell is strong, but...I have a date later tonight. I wanna smell nice, y' know?" Once they were both inside, Tanya turned to her inebriated passenger. "Now I hope you're sober enough to understand what I'm about to tell you, because it's going to sound pretty farfetched. What if I told you that there was something...sinister about this city?" Leslie frowned, still feeling a little funny from the perfume spray. "Sss-sinnnstriie?" "What if I told you that there was a hidden Sisterhood of ladies who were plotting to eliminate all the men of this city? People like your husband, and even your son?" The partially sober woman still frowned, but it seemed like she was still listening. Tanya went into a pocket of her black jacket, and pulled out a couple of pictures. She held up one of a red-headed young man. "This is Grant," Tanya explained. "He used to be my son. Bit of a troublemaker, but still my son. I wanted to help him kick a drug habit he was on. One of the Sisterhood women told me about a summer camp with plenty of good counselors who could help him, so I signed him up," She then stowed one picture, and picked up the other one. This one showed a red-headed young woman with a curly, 50s-era hairstyle. "And this is what he looks like now. Completely a woman. They never even asked me if they wanted to change her. They just went ahead and did it." Leslie's eyes widened. "Jeez." "Now I'm sure you don't want the same thing to happen to your husband?" Tanya asked. "Or your son?" Leslie shook her head. "Noooo way." "Well...you might want to keep a close eye on them, Leslie," Tanya warned. "I found out that they've changed a lot of people who have crossed the Sisterhood. Misogynists are their preferred targets, but...they've gone after more well-behaved men, young and old, if the Sisterhood thinks they could be useful to them. Once they start turning into females, there's no turning back for them." Leslie looked more serious now. "How long has...this been going on?" "A few years," Tanya replied. "They've been sinking their hooks into just about everything in Bullchester these days. Last I heard, I think they're planning something big. As in, 'boom' big." "What...they're terrorists??" Tanya shook her head. "More like extremists, but...it wouldn't surprise me if their beliefs took them as far as more radical actions. The leader of this conspiracy absolutely hates men. Wants to see them all gone, not just the misogynistic types." Leslie looked a bit scared now. "Wh-what do we do??" "Keep quiet about it, for one thing," Tanya discreetly advised. "If you bring this out in the open, no one's gonna buy it. They may even move on you. Rumor has it they don't just change genders. They can manipulate your age. They can turn troublesome teenagers into 80 year old hags, or a nattering granny into an adolescent sexpot. They could seriously ruin you if you're not careful, dear." Leslie sounded a little more lucid now. "How the fuck is 'keeping quiet' gonna make any difference?" Tanya thought on this for a moment, and then turned back to the troubled, middle-aged blonde. "Okay, okay...I'll tell you what. First off...tell me your name." "Leslie," she replied. "Leslie Betancourt." "Okay, Leslie...since you no longer have the overhead of a job to worry about, that gives us more time to plan a response," Tanya advised. "Whatever we want to plan, we can't do it at that bar. I hear the Sisterhood is going to be turning their attention to it anyway sometime soon. I'd like to suggest another place. It's gotta be a bar that isn't that well-known. On the outskirts of town. Give me your smartphone number so I can text you the address." As her head was still a little buzzed between the liquor and the perfume scent, Leslie surrendered her number to the black-haired woman, who had the outfit of a female executive, or so it appeared. Tanya pulled out her smartphone and programmed the new contact in. "Okay, now Leslie? Don't do anything about this conspiracy until you get a text from me. Understand?" Tanya instructed. "I'll let you know where we'll meet so we can go over strategies. We need to be extremely careful here. If this goes loud, we could both be in very serious trouble. Maybe you'll wind up in the same retirement home you sent your grandparents to, eh? They may even rewrite your personality, and give you an incontinence problem." "Oh, God!" This visibly horrified Leslie. "Can they really do that?" Tanya nodded. "Yeah, they can. So be careful. We play our cards right, maybe we can get word to the Federal people and shut this nasty Sisterhood down for good," She then brought the Sedan to life. "For now, let's get you home." "Should I...should I try to get another job?" Leslie wearily asked as the car moved along the Bullchester freeway. "That may be extremely difficult for you now, Leslie," Tanya answered. "Best thing you can do now is lay low, have a drink or two, and wait for my text. No matter what my texts say, you follow the instructions. Can you do that?" Leslie nodded, looking a little dazed. "Okay." Her sole comfort, for the moment, was that she knew there was some liquor left in her husband's personal stores which, unbeknownst to Arnold, she knew how to access. After everything she had just learned, she'd need a few extra pints or so in her. IV: Life Lessons As Tobias had shopped before for the kinds of things he had been acquiring at the mall, it was just a matter of picking alternate designs in getting enough bras, panties, and pantyhose for the week. A part of him wondered, however, if he should also shop for jeans, seeing as how the pair he had on today suddenly seemed a bit tight around the waist. Fastening the single button at his waistline now gave him a slight feeling of constriction. He was at least relieved that he was able to go through the school day without having to divert his eyes from any black jocks and athletes. This turned out to be one of those days where, by circumstance, he never saw any of them. Nevertheless, his thoughts seemed strangely wistful as he reached the end of the school day, and then boarded the bus to get off at the mall to do his shopping trip. Fortunately, there was no sign of that Emily girl since that first encounter with her. Despite this, however, some of the things she had said still lingered on his mind, much as he wanted to completely forget them. Was it those thoughts, however, that were making him feel the way he did, he wondered? The bags he carried were thankfully light as he made his way to the bus stop that would take him a block away from his home, where he would walk the rest of the way. He hoped that his mother would not spot him carrying these bags as he came in. The last thing he wanted was a grilling. When he was within sight of the bus stop, he saw that one had parked there and was letting people on. In desperation, he ran as fast as he could towards the stop... ...but by the time he was within close range of the bus, it closed its doors and pulled out of the stop. With a lamented sigh, he decided to settle onto one of the available benches at the stop. He figured another would come in about 20 minutes or so. The skies above were dark blue, and Tobias figured they would be pitch black by the time the next bus arrived. Letting out another tired sigh from his impromptu run, he quietly waited. Fortunately, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the climate was pleasant enough. The sound of footsteps, from a single person, grew louder as Tobias sat there, minding his own business. He continued to just idly sit there and do more of the same. The only thing he cared about at the moment was to get on the bus and go home. Whoever this person was settled into the empty bench space next to him, and let out a tired sigh. Some of his mass rubbed against Tobias's left arm. The arm felt hard. Toned. Instinctively, Tobias turned his head towards this person... ...and his eyes widened at the sight of a large, bald, black man with a bushy mustache. He was very well-built, with the kind of defined body musculature that was common to those who flexed them for competitions regularly. He had a tight, blank purple T-Shirt on, and a pair of loose- fitting black jeans. Like Tobias, he also seemed to be minding his own business. Tobias's heart, however, was racing now as he turned his head away from the veritable brick wall that was sitting next to him. His cock began to harden quickly, and his heart rate was beginning to make him pant with a building sense of lust. He tried to hide his apparent need to hyperventilate, but just being next to this man was driving Tobias crazy. What was worse was that from his glance, he surmised that this awesomely strong man was the very same person in the photos Madame Olivia had sent him! There were so many things he wanted to say...so many things he wanted to do...in that long moment. He knew it would be crazy for him to just grab him and kiss him, much as he absolutely wanted to. Tobias felt so small and insignificant all of a sudden. He began to feel like he was sitting next to a God, given the way this man was built. Such was the intensity of these feelings that he was unable to pick up on the fact that another bus had arrived, and opened its doors to accept passengers. They stayed open for about three minutes before they closed back up, and the bus rolled away from the stop. But Tobias still sat there, panting lightly in his inescapable excitement. The black man remained next to him as well, although he was now curious about the very nervous-looking young man sitting next to him. "Wasn't that your bus?" The big man asked, in a low, sharp voice which only added to the young man's sexual rush. He tapped at the young man's shoulder to get his attention, and Tobias snapped his head to the left, his breath mildly shaky. "I said, wasn't that your bus that just left?" he asked again, gazing right into the young man's eyes with a confused gaze. "U-uhh...y...I..." was all Tobias was able to stammer out. "Hey, hey, relax," the big black man gently remarked. "Just askin' a question." "W-why didn't...you?" Tobias weakly countered. "Um...get on?" "'Cause I'm not waiting for a bus," The man replied, shrugging slightly. "I'm waitin' for my damn car. Made an arrangement. Supposed to be done today. Couldn't go out there to get it, so I'm havin' them drive it out to me." Tobias nodded, still staring at the large, chocolate-skinned man. "Oh." Another long, awkward moment passed. Tobias was able to look away, but he still found himself glancing towards the bald, black man, who also attempted to idle quietly. The man broke the silence. "Y'know, the next bus isn't gonna be here for awhile. It's gettin' late. You got school tomorrow?" Once again, Tobias's eyes returned to the man next to him. "Y-yes. I...hhhow much later?" The man shrugged. "'Bout...two or three hours." The musclebound man's attention was then diverted to a car...which turned out to be an old, but well cared for Humvee...rolling up near the bus stop. The man rose up, apparently in expectation of whomever was in the vehicle. Tobias's eyes followed him, feeling a little disheartened when he stepped away. Tobias saw him step over to what looked like an auto mechanic. He was wearing a coverall similar to the one his father always wore to work, but this was a younger man. They both exchanged murmurings, and Tobias figured he'd get in and drive away, leaving him alone to take a late bus which would get him home, but with presumably less time for him to sleep before he needed to get up and go to school. Depression began to set in as he sighed wistfully...but then, he heard footsteps approach. "Hey..." It was the same black man. "...where d'you live? Barford?" Tobias nodded, once again feeling inescapably excited. "Y-yes?" The man seemed to give an unspoken notion some thought. "You want a lift back home?" Tobias immediately rose up. He wasn't the least bit concerned over this man essentially being a total stranger. He just wanted to be as close to this man as possible. "Please?" He gestured for Tobias to follow, and he quickly hurried over to walk beside the well-built black man. He first opened the back door of the Humvee so Tobias could store his bags. At no point did the man with the bushy mustache ask him why he had shopping bags from stores carrying women's garments, which were clearly advertised upon the plastic surfaces. He even opened the passenger-side door for Tobias, who stepped in and settled into the seat. He had to fiddle with his crotch a bit, given his considerable erection. The young man's heart continued to race as the man entered the driver side, and then snapped himself in. "Belt. Get your belt on," he firmly advised. Gasping, Tobias straightened up in his seat and snapped his seatbelt on. "By the way..." The broad-chested man gunned the vehicle's engine. "...my name's Jake." "To-Toby," the young man responded, once again staring upon his well- built, and generous driver. "Well, there's no need for you to be afraid with me, Toby, in case you're wonderin'," Jake noted as the Humvee rolled out onto the city streets, and away from the bus stop. "I'm not gonna hurt you, or do anythin' you wouldn't want me to do. I'm just gonna take you home. You tell me where you want me to take you, but it's gotta be close to where you live." "Okay," Tobias weakly replied, still staring at Jake. He had to resist a strong, and overpowering urge to begin jerking off as he stared. He then managed to provide an address which was exactly where he lived. Jake nodded in acknowledgement. "It's in my nature to help people like you," Jake added, keeping his eyes on the road. "I was a United States Marine." Tobias tilted his head to the side in his fascination. "Really?" "Mm-hmm. Even saw some action," Jake replied. "But that's all behind me. You ever thought about joinin' up?" The idea didn't appeal to him at all. Even before he had met Olivia Tench. Tobias shook his head. "No." Jake nodded. "Naah. You don't look the type," he mused. "Less of a shield...and more of a Daisy. That's OK, though." He looked back over to Tobias. "You don't mind bein' a Daisy, do you?" Daisy. Tobias liked the sound of that, coming from this man. I'll be your Daisy. He thought to himself as he shook his head. I'll always be your Daisy. "Y'know, like in that Tombstone movie," Jake mused. "Th' way Doc Holliday always called the finer things in life a Daisy. Y'all shouldn't be judged. You look like you got it together, an' you goin' to school. That makes you a Daisy." Tobias smiled. Daisy. He thought to himself. I love when he calls me that. "So why are you staring at me, Toby?" Jake then asked. Tobias blinked, fearing that he was starting to upset Jake. "I'm sorry...I-I can't help it. You...you're so...strong. Your body...I...it's amazing, I...I can't help it..." Fortunately, Jake smiled in his amusement. "I worked real hard to get these guns, Toby," He flexed an arm, showing off every hardening muscle and every vein in so doing. "If I wasn't drivin', I'd show you more," He then mused. "C-can we...pull over?" Tobias instinctively asked. "Don't you have to get home?" Jake wondered aloud. Tobias slowly hung his head helplessly. They were almost at the address the young man had given Jake, as well. The former Marine, however, knew the area where Tobias had indicated, and he knew there was a portion of Bullchester Park a few blocks down from the address. He therefore took a detour, and settled the Humvee by a curb next to the park. Without saying a word, Jake emerged from the vehicle and stepped over to Tobias's side, opening the door for him. "Follow me," Jake ordered. Tobias practically fumbled around, excitedly, for the button to release the seatbelt catch, but he was able to free himself and he hurried over next to the large black man, who led Tobias over to an area where people could sit around, surrounded by trees, and either socialize, or play board games on solid stone tables with checkerboard designs upon them. Jake had Tobias settle in at a bench, while the former Marine removed his purple shirt and tossed it to the wide-eyed young man, who was now transfixed at the sight of Jake's broad and tattooed upper body. Standing before the excited young man, Jake began flexing his muscles, showing off the extent of his daily workouts, and his weight training. He went through each of the poses typical of a flexing competition as Tobias just stared at him. He desperately wanted to rise up, hurry over, and run his hands over that hardened body. He was even able to see sweat beads as Jake flexed. The young man's mind made the mental leap to salt. He wanted to taste that sweat on his tongue. Failing that, Tobias brought the slightly moist shirt Jake was wearing up to his nose, and inhaled deeply. The musky scent practically had Tobias spurt precum. After a minute of flexing, Jake stepped back over to Tobias. He gestured for the young man to hand him back his shirt... ...but when Tobias was back on his feet, he instead stepped in and wrapped his arms around the former Marine, pressing the side of his face against Jake's bare chest, panting lustily. His hands rubbed at Jake's bare back slowly. Omigod, he's so hard... Tobias chimed to himself. ...like iron... Jake hesitantly wrapped his own big arms around Tobias, forcing a loud pant to emerge from the excited young man's lips. He wanted to stay just like this, with Jake's arms wrapped around him, forever in that moment. But after a couple of minutes, Jake's big, warm hands pressed against both sides of Tobias's head, and he angled it up to meet his eyes as the former Marine looked down at him. "Time for you to get back home, Daisy." Tobias stared back up at him longingly, savoring Jake's firm grip on his head. "Yes, sir." A slight smile now played on Jake's lips when he heard that reply, and he wrapped an arm around the excited young man's shoulders, staying bare-chested as Tobias placed a hand on one of Jake's pecs, rubbing at its hardness as they walked back to the Humvee. They separated so they could take their respective places in the vehicle as Jake, who re-acquired his shirt and pulled it back on. Tobias looked exhausted as he buckled himself in on the passenger side. About 5 minutes later, they were in front of the Betancourt home. Tobias was still panting, and his gaze was still locked on Jake. Even as he stepped out of the driver side, and then moved to open the door for Tobias once the former Marine had acquired his passenger's shopping bags from the back of the Hummer. Once Tobias stepped out, he collapsed himself against Jake, whose hands returned to the sides of the enthralled young man's head as he looked up at the former Marine. "Thank you, sir," Tobias quietly cooed. "Judging by the way you're looking at me," Jake mused. "I guess you wanna see me again." Tobias's eyes widened. "Could I...?" Jake smiled again, and rubbed a hand over Tobias's hair. The young man heaved a shaky, passionate breath, closing his eyes to savor the feel of the larger man's warm hand smoothing his hair back. "I'll see what I can do," Jake finally replied. "Now go on home." Tobias's eyes reopened. "Yes, sir," he quietly, lustfully replied. A slight smile was still on Jake's lips as he went back into the driver seat of his Humvee. "See you soon, Daisy." The enthralled eyes of the young man followed the Humvee as it disappeared into the distance. He took a couple of steps back as he lingered on the front lawn, and then stumbled onto it. Still panting...and feeling a little dizzy...from his lingering excitement, Tobias got back to his feet, picked up the shopping bags, and drifted towards the front door of the Betancourt house. Going inside, he expected to see his mother in the Living Room, watching a prime time TV program. The Living Room, however, was empty. It was dark, too. Surmising that she had gone out for whatever reason, Tobias hurried over to his room and closed the door behind him so he could remove the tags from his new garments and begin trying them on. He of course needed to have selfies taken for Madame Olivia's sake, as well. * * * - Tenchion '< : you're late, Terri. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about your responsibility to me. - AwesomeSauce4E4 '< : I'm sorry, Madame Olivia. - Tenchion '< : WHAT THE FUCK? - Tenchion '< : you little shit. I'm calling the Feds. - ChocolateWhore '< : WAIT WAIT WAIT! i was chatting with a friend before! i'm sorry! - Tenchion '< : And you didn't use your new handle? Are you that ashamed of what you are, Terri? - Tenchion '< : you know what? I changed my mind. About your name. Keep the ChocolateWhore handle. EVEN AMONG YOUR FRIENDS. I don't care who they are. I don't even care if they are your family members. - Tenchion '< : But Terri doesn't suit you anymore. I think I'll start calling yooooou... - Tenchion '< : ...Coco. - Tenchion '< : Yes. Perfect. Naughty, busty, big-assed lil' Coco. That's you. - Tenchion '< : Why are you so quiet all of a sudden, Coco? Don't you like your new name? - ChocolateWhore '< : Yes, Madame Olivia. - Tenchion '< : Good. - Tenchion '< : I have a feeling that that is all you're ever going to want to call yourself over time, Coco. - Tenchion '< : Tomorrow, I want you to pick up a jar of Body Wash from a specific store, and start using it instead of soap. Get the Coconut scent. - Tenchion '< : Get enough to last you for the whole week. - Tenchion '< : Get more when you've gone through it all. - Tenchion '< : Send a selfie to show me that you have used it. - ChocolateWhore '< : Why? - Tenchion '< : You'll see, Coco dear. - ChocolateWhore '< : Why are you having me dress up like a girl? - Tenchion '< : Would you rather I called Federal agents to tell them about what you did? - Tenchion '< : you could have stood up for your grandparents, Coco. you could have said 'no'. But, I suppose you're just a weak little mama's boy at heart. Whatever she tells you to do, you do, right? Even if it's at the expense of your own grandparents? That makes you a WIMP, and a SISSY! - Tenchion '< : It's okay, though, Coco. The username and the password for Harvey Betancourt's online account was changed before you had the chance to use the one your father gave you. - Tenchion '< : Don't you ever tell me that you don't deserve this, Coco, because you do. - Tenchion '< : Look on the bright side, though. - Tenchion '< : Not only will you have plenty of opportunities to twerk your huge butt, and bounce and squeeze those big titties of yours... - Tenchion '< : ...you'll also have plenty of sweet, tasty chocolate to look forward to. ----===*CHAT TERMINATED*===---- * * * 100 pounds. More than Harvey Betancourt thought he could ever lift prior to being intentionally stranded at the Golden Sunshine. He was now able to lift this one-handed dumbbell up fifty times. The appearance of his hair was noticeably improved as well. He now had a fully-grown head of short brown hair, which he habitually parted to one side with the aid of hair gel, which his wife had graciously picked up for him during her shopping trip alongside Rosalind Foxe. Remembering a training sequence in Rocky II, which was one of his favorite films, he picked up a second 100 lb weight and began lifting them up to either side. He obviously couldn't lift them as rapidly as Stallone did in the movie, but he was able to bring them up. Harvey made it part of his personal rehab goal to be able to bring the weights up as rapidly as Rocky Balboa did. Fifty times. His next stop in the retirement home's developing gymnasium was the workout bike. Remembering what Rosa had told him in how to set it up, he took his place on the seat and began pedaling. As he did, he noticed someone come up behind him, smiling. "Hey, soldier!" It was Barry, the man whose father was a WWII veteran like Harvey. "I see you're back in basic training." "Heh...minus the yelling from the Sarge," Harvey mused as he continued pedaling. "Can I ask ya something?" Barry stepped over next to the Market Garden veteran. "Shoot!" "Where does that water come from?" Harvey asked. The young attendant raised an eyebrow. "You mean...the bath water?" "Yeah, yeah," Harvey responded. "How come they don't have that stuff in other homes like this one?" Barry shrugged. "Beats me. I only work here." Harvey nodded. "Would you know who I should ask that would know?" It was clear to Barry that Harvey had wanted to start digging into mysteries he would be better off never exploring. "Why would you want to, Mr. Betancourt? I mean...look what it's doing for you. You're being given a second chance at life. We're turning back the clock for you and you're obviously taking advantage of it. Why question it?" "Because whoever created this water isn't sharing it," Harvey reasoned. "I mean...is this the only place where you can get the benefits of this water?" "I...can't answer that, Harvey..." Barry worriedly admitted. "...and for your own sake, I need to advise you to keep this to yourself. Don't question your good fortune anymore. You need to remember why you were brought here in the first place. Your own son, his wife, and their son mutually schemed to take advantage of your large bank account, which built up over time given your veteran's benefits, and they basically left you here to rot. To be forgotten. If you ask me, that's a piss-poor thing to do to a war hero like yourself." Harvey shook his head dismissively. "I'm no war hero, kiddo. I got a Silver Star, but that doesn't make me a war hero. Selfless soldiers like John Basilone are war heroes, Barry." "Harvey...as far as I'm concerned, when your team....which you were a part of...liberated that bridge in Holland, failed plan or not, that's the closest thing to a hero in my book," Barry reasoned. "Okay, so you didn't walk away from the Second World War with a Medal of Honor, but some people don't judge a hero by whether or not they were decorated by the President, and I know enough about the Silver Star to know that it's the third highest medal for valor. What I don't know is how you got it, and I've quite frankly been meaning to ask you how you got it." Harvey lowered his head thoughtfully. "We took out flak guns, and...we scared off a truck full o' Nazi soldiers. There wasn't too much fighting there." Barry shrugged, smiling. "Still sounds like Silver Star material to me. Don't Flak Guns take down planes? You saved the lives of allied soldiers who could have been flying overhead. Don't sell yourself short, Harvey. You deserve that Silver Star. You still have it with you, right?" Harvey nodded emphatically. "That's something I'd never forget." "Can you imagine what the Betancourts would have done with it if it fell into their greedy little hands?" Harvey closed his eyes regretfully, sighing fretfully. "I don't even wanna think about it." "And I don't wanna see you get in any trouble for telling anyone about what we've done for you and your wife that shouldn't know about it," Barry warily reminded. "Please, Harvey. I'm begging you. Keep it to yourself." Harvey sighed irritably. "I have friends who wouldn't mind re-living their youth, you know. Some of them are veterans, too." "Harvey..." "Oh, fine, fine, whatever. Keep up your damn cloak an' dagger act," The war veteran irritably waved a hand in dismissal of the topic. "I'm too damn old to understand politics anymore anyway." Barry smiled, trying to disarm the situation. "You don't look that old to me." This, however, only disgusted Harvey more. "Oh, leave me alone, ya stingy bastard. It's no crime to be selfless. Just ask John Basilone." Harvey turned his attention back to the workout bike, looking away from Barry as the young attendant stood there, wondering what he could say in his defense, and to perhaps regain the friendship he felt he had just lost. He really liked Harvey, and he heard Rosa had good things to say about him as well. A part of him wanted to leave him with a more stern warning, but that would only make things worse. So Barry did what the war veteran asked him to do. He left Harvey alone. The painful part was that he knew Harvey was morally in the right... ...but Barry also knew that if he had actually decided to rock the boat, so to speak, he'd probably wind up looking like a decrepit, 90 year old man. * * * Leslie's vision was blurred when her eyes finally, wearily opened. She had spent the night, since getting home, in her room with a half- full bottle of whiskey, which she finished off before passing out. She could only remember rambling out loud, knowing no one else was home, about what she had learned...and about her old job...as she kept drinking. She was sprawled on the carpeted floor of her bedroom when she began to stir. The headache Leslie was feeling was oppressive as she rose to her bare feet. She saw that she was wearing a silk, tiger skin-design robe, which she remembered her husband getting for her as an anniversary present about six years ago. At first, she thought it was tacky, but she liked the feel of the silk against her skin while she had it on. Drifting to the bathroom, she saw that the door was ajar, and an unpleasant smell emanated from it that didn't have anything to do with excrement. Looking in the toilet bowl, she discovered the source of the stench. Leslie had apparently thrown up at some point during her loud tirade, and she had forgotten to flush the toilet. Some of the nauseating mess was outside of the bowl, too, partially staining the seat. One flush took care of the toilet bowl, while a multi-layered wad of paper towels wiped the rest of the bathroom clean. Grabbing a Lysol can, she misted the bathroom's interiors until the scent was drowned out by the more pleasant scent the air freshener provided. Leslie began to recollect what the Tanya woman had told her the previous day. It was naturally difficult to believe. A conspiracy where a 'Sisterhood' turns men into women? Makes young people old, and vice versa? She figured there was some kind of radical science involved. In all of her time living in Bullchester, she never imagined anything like this was going on. She was aware, however, of how misogynistic others proclaimed the city to be before word spread of a new Mayoress. The irony was that Leslie did notice quality-of-life improvements, but if the entire city became a feminine mecca, it would stand out in the eyes of the world. The imbalance would draw attention. She wondered if the world outside of Bullchester was aware of these little developments. Of what went on behind the scenes. She also wondered why no one was doing anything about it. As she realized she was still the only one in the house, a suspicion took hold. She wondered if either her husband, or her son, were in the midst of being feminized at all. She hoped that they had not become targets themselves for whatever reason. Rummaging through her husband's dresser, Leslie was relieved to notice that everything she had found in his drawers were masculine in nature. There was no real difference. Now it was time to move the impromptu investigation to her son's room...but as she approached the room's front door, her smartphone buzzed. It was the reaction that betrayed the presence of a text message. Bringing up the messaging app revealed the following, freshly sent message: The Hail Mary Pub & Restaurant 8:00 pm tonight Two more messages followed as she looked at the first, one after the other. COME ALONE I may be late. Send YES to confirm. There was something she felt she had to do first, so she stowed away her smartphone, and went into her son's bedroom. Plastic bags were on the ground. Two of them. Both advertised a place at the mall which she knew was a provider of women's undergarments. Her eyes widened a bit in her shock. She immediately went to the dresser and opened one drawer. Male clothes. Leslie felt a little more relieved. She went to the drawer above it. White underwear. All of it male. Leslie heaved a sigh of relief. She hoped her immediate worry was all for nothing. Perhaps her son had figured on buying garments for her birthday months in advance? It was a five-drawer dresser. She opened drawer #3... ...and there they were. They all looked new, as well. Feminine undergarments. There were panties of various feminine styles, and matching bras to go with them. Next to these were packages containing various varieties of pantyhose. Leslie swallowed hard. She found this difficult to comprehend. She had never known her son to exhibit crossdressing habits. She hoped, in that moment, that it was just a mere curiosity, and he had not actually worn any of this stuff. She turned to a clothes basket which contained a pile of Tobias's dirty laundry. Rummaging through it, she came upon a pair of pink panties. She saw that these panties had cum stains on them as well. Leslie bobbed her head down fearfully as she sighed. No. She lamented to herself. Not my son. It...it CAN'T be! Why?? Whatever action needed to be taken against this conspiracy, it needed to get rolling as fast as possible before it completely changed her son's life. She reclaimed her smartphone, and reopened her messaging app, to solidify her determination by way of a single word, which was promptly sent to Tanya. YES! * * * There was no getting around it. Tobias Betancourt needed to talk to someone, and it needed to be in private, with someone he could trust. He figured that the best candidate for this at Feetham's was a Social Worker. He was therefore guided to one Lois Fryer, who Tobias knew nothing about until the time for his appointment had arrived. Upon seeing what she looked like, he wondered if the very notion of talking with her about anything confidential would be a mistake. She was a short-haired platinum blonde with a face that looked more like it was sculpted than naturally formed. Her face was covered in makeup and her perfume was considerably strong. Tobias was able to see a hint of tattoos at her low-cut white blouse. Overall, she looked less like a professional, and more like a bimbo. Assuming this was, in fact, Mrs. Fryer? "Ohhh...I-I'm sorry..." Tobias nervously remarked upon poking his head through the wide door crack. "I think...I have the wrong room." "Mr. Betancourt?" Lois wondered aloud. "Y-yes?" "No mistake. You have an appointment with me. I'm Lois Fryer," She flashed a full smile, and then gestured to a nicely-cushioned chair across from her. "Have a seat!" Rubbing his hands together nervously, Tobias settled into the offered chair. Lois maintained her disarming grin. "So...how are you feeling today, Mr. Betancourt? Or would you rather I called you...Tobias? Toby?" The troubled young man shrugged. "Toby's fine. I...I've been feeling...kinda weird lately. I don't know where it came from. All of a sudden, I'm thinking about things I...I never thought I would...think about." Lois nodded. "What...kinds of things? Girls? Boys, maybe?" Tobias looked around the office, confirming that the door was shut, and that no one was listening from the nearby window near the ceiling of Lois's office. He then leaned in to discreetly answer Lois's question. "Guys. I mean...big guys. Strong guys." Lois shrugged. "What's so wrong with that?" "But I've never had these kind of feelings about guys," Tobias argued. "I don't even know where any of that came from. I've never been into guys. I-I'm not gay. How could that..." "So you think this was...an unnatural development?" Lois guessed. "Sounds kind of ominous! Can you recall when these feelings started happening? When did you first pick up on this sudden attraction to big, strong, hard-bodied men..." She began to speak lustfully here. "...with rock-solid pecs you can't help but to rub your hand against in your complete fascination?" The effect of Lois's words were more or less immediate, as Tobias paused to pant lightly over the mental images that were forming in his mind, which were naturally provoked by Lois's words. "Oh...I'm sorry. Was I distracting your chain of thought, dear?" Lois asked, feigning embarrassment. "I have to admit, I get a little flustered myself when I think of broad-chested guys with huge forearms that make you feel soooo safe when they wrap those arms around you and press you against the skin of their bare, sweaty chests." The young man's cock began to stir as Lois purred her words. "Why?" he wondered aloud. "Why am I...why am I getting so...ssso hot?" "Maybe you've just been denying a curiosity you've never given yourself a chance to explore because of society's norms," Lois surmised aloud. "See...I brought those descriptions up to test you, and it seems you really are reacting as I thought you might." "It's not just that," Tobias noted. "I think I'm...changing. My pants are...tight...in the waist." This didn't seem to surprise Lois much. She shrugged amusedly. "Weight gain? That's normal. Have you been eating excessively?" Tobias shook his head. "No...not really..." "No....fast foods?" Lois guessed. "Been to Great Big Cal's recently?" Tobias shook his head again. "I just...I know something is wrong. Something's going on with me, and I...I'm kinda scared." "Hey...don't be," Lois assured. "You haven't told me anything that seems terribly out of the ordinary, but if it's peace of mind you're looking for, maybe I can make a little arrangement with one of the school's physicians. She can check your body for hormonal imbalances, and maybe give you some medication. Does that sound fair?" Tobias slowly nodded. "Yeah, I...I guess so." "Just bear in mind that I'm not the kind of counselor who would suggest, or even recommend, medication in response to mild forms of stress or even depression, but we'll see what Dr. Matuszik says," Rising out of her chair, she stepped towards Tobias and offered a hand. "Let's go. We'll see if we can't fit you in right now." As Lois and Tobias made their way through the halls of Feetham's, most of the students in the school glanced at Lois with a sense of distaste and even disgust. Clearly, the popular opinion on her was less than favorable, but there were a few students who offered her a pleasant wave and/or a greeting. The word 'bimbo' was often dropped as they passed several students. When they finally reached the medical office, the resident physician...a tall and busty, but nevertheless professional-looking short-haired blonde named Vivienne Matuszik...was stepping out of her office. "Oh, hi, Viv!" Lois chimed. "Glad I caught you. Listen...I know you're close to your lunch period, but..." She had Tobias step forward. "...can I squeeze one in with you? We just want to be sure there's no, uh, chemical imbalance in his...body," Lois seemed to give her a subtle signal Tobias could not see. "Maybe just a quick checkup?" Vivienne gave Tobias a scrutinizing gaze as he stared up at the blond physician in the white coat. "Mmm. I'm in no rush. I just figured I could get an early lunch in, but..." She placed a hand on the troubled young man's shoulder. "...I can do that tomorrow. Come on inside, sweetie." "His name is Tobias Betancourt. His records should be on file," Lois reminded prior to pleasantly waving, and then stepping away. Vivienne brought Tobias into an examination room and smiled pleasantly to her new patient before tapping away at a computer. She turned the monitor away from his sight as she worked the keyboard. "How are we feeling today?" she then asked. "Weird," Tobias answered. "Really weird." "Mmmm..." the Doctor purred as she examined the student's data, scrutinizing the details closely. "...no history of...illegal drug use, you don't smoke, no trace of liquor..." Her eyes returned to Tobias. "...why don't you tell me what's wrong, honey." Tobias basically repeated what he had told Lois, after which she took a blood pressure reading, checked his heartbeat, and then had him stand on a weight machine. Sitting him back down, she turned on a large, wand- like implement with a flat black surface, and slowly moved it down his chest, starting at the neck. Tobias felt a bit of heat after Vivienne held down the implement's activation button. She instructed him to take deep breaths as she moved the wand down. He was fearful of her asking him to take his shirt off, as his doing so would reveal the bra he was wearing beneath it. To his surprise, such a request never came once she was finished with the wand-like device. She then returned to the computer monitor and hit up a few keys. "Yeeeeaaah...there you are..." she quietly observed. Tobias immediately got curious as he held one arm nervously. "What is it?" After tapping a few keys, Vivienne began to prepare a syringe at a nearby steel basin. "Acute hormonal imbalance. Thought it would regress, buuuuut it seems to be on the surge, based on what you told me. Fortunately for you, it's treatable." She walked over to Tobias and attached a rubber cord to his forearm to bulge a vein. She then swabbed the area and inserted the needle she prepared, pushing a pale lavender liquid into his bloodstream. "You're gonna need to sit out the next few days while this does its magic, Tobias...but somehow, I don't think a few days off from school is gonna bother you too much, eh? Plenty of videogames, and movies-on-demand...binge-watch a few shows...just relax while this stuff does its thing. I'll make a note out for your teachers to excuse you," She untied the rubber cord and placed a band-aid over the injection area. Tobias nodded. "How long?" Vivienne shrugged, smiling. "I'll give you a week." She then wrote a phone number on the back of a card and handed it to the young man. "If there's no improvement, give me a call. But ONLY if things get worse for you, okay? That's a number reserved for emergencies," She then led Tobias back to the office entrance. "I'll excuse you for the rest of the day. You just go on back home. Feel better, sweetie!" The best part about this unexpected excusal was that aside from the weirdness, he wasn't feeling feverish at all! With a spring in his step, he made his way to one of the school's exits. It wasn't until he was outside of the school that he began to feel a mild warmth at his chest, and at his posterior, as he made his way to the bus stop. He figured the Doctor's medicine had begun to work its healing magic on him. * * * As he had still not yet found a buyer for the old, smelly station wagon that served as the family vehicle(and which was once the property of his grandparents), Arnold settled it in the typical curbside parking lot he used, which was about a block away from where the Rip N' Ride was located. One of his developed habits was to wait until he got out of the car to pull the zipper up the rest of the way at the front of his striped denim coveralls. He was also about five minutes early on his daily shift when he arrived, which gave him a chance to settle in and get ready for their first customer. The mechanic who usually worked the late shift at the 24-hr auto service was an Asian man named Zhang. Pavel had a habit of bringing up how efficient and dependable this man was, and Zhang certainly came off like an eager beaver when it came to work, and he always put on a courteous and kind and witty face whenever a customer drove in. He didn't expect to see Zhang alongside Pavel when he walked into the garage. Usually, Zhang was long gone by the time he arrived. Yet there he was, doing the routine Arnold usually did prior to the start of his shift. When Pavel stepped out of his office and spotted Arnold, he gestured for him to follow. The expression on his face was suspiciously serious. When Zhang looked at him, he also had a strange expression. As if Arnold were less of a kindred spirit, and more of a disgusting insect. Confused, the mechanic went into the office and put on his more affable face. "So how come Zhang is here?" Arnold asked. "I figured he'd be on his way back home." "He work your shift," Pavel growled. "Need you take off your worksuit. I give you last paycheck." Arnold was astonished. "What?? Why??" "Want to find fresh face," Pavel replied. "Young face. One that show respect to elders." Arnold frowned in his visible confusion. "Respect...to elders?? What the hell are you talking about??" "Elders! GRANDPARENTS!" Pavel yelled. "You do not fuck with them, da? I cannot have you work with me no more! Take check. Buy new job. You FIRED! Go away!" "Pavel...I've been working here for nearly five years," Arnold protested. "Why would you..." "YOU GO!!" Pavel suddenly roared. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY GARAGE!" Still mystified and wide-eyed, Arnold turned around and walked out of the office, and out of the garage. Distancing himself from the Rip N'Ride for the last time, he was still in a state of shock when he got back in his car and started it up. While he was back on the road, a thought occurred to him, and he diverted his vehicle towards another place that had only recently become familiar to him. It had to be her. He thought to himself. She's the only other person who knows. She told me she was going to keep it to herself! She PROMISED she wouldn't tell anyone! He knew she wasn't working today, so it seemed like a matter of convenience. He knew he would find her at her large, lavish home that he had only been to once before, and only recently for what she called a 'nightcap'. After what happened, he was done sharing any further nightcaps with a woman like this, no matter how attractive she looked. He had a feeling this was gonna turn ugly, but he needed to stand his ground. Once he was in front of the front door to the Cooper residence, he banged on the door angrily. The familiar scent of Iris's perfume, as she approached the front door on the other side, served to ease his anger a bit. It was such a sweet scent. All he could think about as Iris pulled the door open was her. And there she stood. "Kneel," she commanded. And down he went, immediately lowering to his knees, looking up at her with a timid expression. "Good girl. Follow me inside." Iris turned and began walking away from the front door. Arnold crawled in behind her. "And don't you ever bang on my door like that again." Arnold felt a rush of shame as he heard these words. A part of him wanted to rise back to his feet and scream with rage at Iris for being such a tattletale... ...but he knew that would anger the Goddess. * * * Rosa, standing in the hallway outside of Glenda's apartment, had been asked to keep her eyes on the picture Glenda kept of her and Harvey at the USO Dance. She explained to her that it was taken in the 1940s, despite the quality fixes Tobias Betancourt had applied to it to make it look more visible. "OK, Rosa...you can come on in now!" a younger-sounding Glenda called out from the inside of the room. Rosa pulled open the door... ...and there stood a carbon copy of Glenda Hemingforth in her prime, and her youth. There was no difference...at all...between the real thing and the picture. The curls were perfectly placed, and in the exact dimensions. The only thing that was different was the dress. Glenda had substituted one of the retro dresses she had gotten from one of the stores at Rubie's Mall. But the head, the hair...even the makeup...was identical to the 1940s photo. It was clear that Rosa had lost the bet. Rosa smiled nevertheless as she approached her renewed friend. "Goddess...it's like you traveled forward in time!" Rosa remarked in her amazement. "You look fantastic...and since you won the bet, you get to do the same thing to my hair." Glenda shrugged confidently, smiling. "Name the date." Rosa giggled as she put the picture frame on the dresser. "Seriously, though...with talent like that, you could start your own business. Have you ever thought about doing that? I mean...you've gotta earn a living somehow, and if the popularity of that Tamara woman is any indication, retro styles are making a comeback." "Oh yes, I saw that spread!" Glenda noted. "Loved it! I was a bit surprised that it was an independent publication, and not a Loris International magazine, but that was just as popular as the Pandora stuff. I'd like to meet that Tamara girl someday. In fact..." She went to one of her dresser drawers and opened it up, revealing a stack of magazines. "...I think I saved a copy of that mag..." Rosa smiled. "I bet you're happy to be rid of all those grandma clothes." Glenda giggled as she began examining the magazine pile. "Like you wouldn't believe. I'm feeling better than ever. Best part is that we're not at war. There were two things that worried me during those uncertain times. One, that I'd wake up in bed, and find a Nazi soldier pointing his gun at me, screaming at me to get up." "And the other?" Glenda's eyebrow raised up. "Finding out that my husband dumped me for a dutch girl while he was overseas." Rosa smiled. "The way you look right now, you may have to fight off a bunch of Bullchester guys." "Ah, here it is!" Glenda pulled out the magazine. Her eyes returned to Rosa... ...but they diverted instead, to her surprise, to the man behind her who similarly looked shocked. Frowning in confusion, Rosa turned her head...and saw Harvey Betancourt staring at his wife. The platinum blonde's eyes returned to Glenda, smiling as she waved a hand. "I'll see you later, hon," She whispered. She then quietly made her way out of the apartment as Harvey took a step towards his wife. Glenda, who tossed the magazine she had acquired aside, was similarly amazed at how young her husband now looked, given their repeated visits to the shower over the past couple of days. Wrinkles were non-existent. Their natural hair colors had been restored, along with the youthful fullness of their hair. Both had all but disposed of their assisted walking implements, and in Harvey's case, he had added a bit of muscle tone given all of his gym visits, and the calisthenics he had been doing as his decrepit old body was given renewed life. "Glennie doll...?" Harvey placed a hand on his wife's cheek. Glenda smiled as her eyes watered up. "Hi, honey..." Her hands went to her curls, lightly touching them. "...how do I look?" Harvey answered by lovingly, and gently, placing his lips on hers. They wrapped themselves into a tight embrace as they continued to kiss. Glenda emitted a passionate moan as they continued to lock their lips together. After a few minutes, their lips disconnected, but their embrace became a dance posture, and despite the complete absence of music, they relied on the music playing in their minds as they quietly danced where they stood, slowly revolving as they moved. In their mind's eyes, they could see other couples dancing around them as the USO band played. * * * The Hail Mary turned out to be an older place. Yet another holdover from the days before Julia Stroud became the Mayoress of Bullchester. Leslie noticed the presence of a "B" grade on one of the diamond-shaped windows as she entered the aged wooden door. The wooden floor was bumpy and uneven as she walked in. The scent of beer hung heavy in the air, and aside from the presence of a heavy-set female bartender washing the glossy brown wooden countertop of the place's bar, there was no one else inside. She began to wonder, in her nervousness, if this was some kind of a trap. The bartender smiled upon spotting Leslie, who was diverted to another sharp vibration from the smartphone in the pocket of her slacks. Pulling it out, she read the message that had been sent by Tanya. Will be a little late. Go ahead and have a drink or two while you're waiting. "Evenin'," The bartender acknowledged as Leslie warily settled onto a barstool. "Can I get you anything?" Leslie shrugged. "Something inexpensive." "Are you here...to wait for Tanya?" the barkeep then asked. The unnatural blonde nodded. "Yeah." "She called me before your arrival," the stocky woman remarked. "Said she'd pick up the drink tab tonight." Leslie's eyebrows raised in her surprise. "Really? OK...ummm..." She gave the matter some thought for a moment. She then shrugged to the bartender. "...surprise me." "Mmmm, OK," the bartender acknowledged. "Name's Nadine, by the way." Nadine's first drink was a veritable assault on the senses, and Leslie needed a moment to recover after coughing wildly. The barkeep giggled upon seeing this. "Well, you did tell me to surprise you," Nadine noted. "Want something a little weaker?" "I actually like the hard stuff," Leslie replied. "Hit me up with a Long Island Iced Tea." Memories of the Honeymoon she shared with her husband...at Niagra Falls...came back to her as she poured the drink down her throat. She got so drunk one evening during that vacation, she loudly complained that she had forgotten where she put her toothpaste when she got back to their hotel room. The memory made her smile as she followed that drink up with a second one of the same type. "Do you know anything about...Tanya?" Leslie asked. "Oh, she's been planning a revolution for weeks now," Nadine answered. "She's gone from a hard-working business executive to a full-on revolutionary. She's convinced that the city's out to get all men. At first, she wasn't too convinced, but then husband became this sweet old lady named Ethel, and her son Grant became Ginger. She wants to see about hacking the Survstar network first. Step one, as she called it." As Nadine spoke, she prepared a third Long Island Iced Tea, and placed it before Leslie, who picked it up and drank it down. "They're not gettin' my Arnold," Leslie firmly remarked. "Or my Toby. Fuck that shit. I want a man in my life. I want the good ol' nuclear family. The mom, the dad, the son. Not too much to ask. Only reason I didn't have more kids is 'cause that'd raise th' daily expenses. That screamin' brat was a bitch to raise, but...he came out okay. When he got older. Least he's not throwin' food around, an' leavin' green shit in his Pampers." "Does he play videogames?" Nadine asked. "He's got a console, yeah," Leslie confirmed. "But he's more about that...that card game thingy." "Behemongers?" "Yeah, that." Leslie finished off her glass. "He plays it with his best friend. One of his classmates from Feetham's. Spends a real fuckload of money on some of those damn cards." "Say..." Nadine leaned in close as she prepared another glass of the same liquor. "...you don't think he might be wrapped up in this conspiracy thing, do you? Your son, I mean?" Leslie picked up the drink and brought it to her lips. "If he is...he'd better be fighting it, or I'm gonna kick that little brat's ass." * * * "Ooooh....ohh-ooouuooohhh..." The images in his dream had Tobias writhing about. His moans were distinctly feminine in nature. His body turned until he was face down on the mattress. He stuck his posterior up as he panted heavily. "...Jake..." he moaned lustfully. "...oh god, Jake...mmmmh..." And that's when he slid off the right side of the bed, having maneuvered too close to it in his passionate writhings. The impact naturally brought him out of his deep dreaming. He moaned sharply with the momentary pain of his collision with the floor. Tobias slowly, and carefully, rose up from the ground. As he did, both his chest and his posterior felt...strange. The top portion of his nightclothes, which like the bottom were now soaked with sweat, were also tented at the chest area. Checking his alarm clock, Tobias saw that it was around 3 a.m. in the morning. As he knew that a full-length mirror was in the bathroom, he drifted towards it. As he moved, he felt a slight jiggling at his butt. After turning the lights on, he stood before the large mirror. As the flaring of light made him wince, his eyes needed a moment to adjust before he could comprehend his own reflection. He began to unbutton the top portion of his nightclothes. It was one thing to see that his hair had grown to the point where it was now a mullet. His half-lidded, tired eyes widened even more over what he saw when he pulled up his white undershirt. Two fleshy globes, both of which had enlarged areolae surrounding more perky nipples, now sat on his chest, which like the rest of his body was now hairless after he had used the coconut-scented Body Wash that was now a part of his daily self-maintenance ritual. They were a little over a C-cup in dimensions. He also saw that his butt was larger as well. Apparently, his rump had gained a bit more mass. Looking at his overall body frame, he noted that it now had a slight hourglass shape. The area around his gut looked a bit thinner in comparison to his chest, and his posterior. Glancing between his legs, he discovered that his cock was now significantly smaller, as well. Tobias's first thought was to call the emergency number he had been given. He had been advised, after all, to use it in the event of an actual emergency. Seeing as how he was under the impression that the medication Dr. Matuszik had given him was supposed to heal him rather than exacerbate the problem, it seemed entirely obvious that this was definitely an emergency. He stepped over to his smartphone, which was plugged into his charger. Having programmed the number into his smartphone's list of contacts, a few touches was all he needed to ring up the Doctor. After two purrs on the other line, the connection opened. "Dr. Matuszik's Office," a strangely familiar female voice...other than Dr. Matuszik...softly cooed. A strange, lingering tone served as an undercurrent to this voice. "Hi, is...is Doctor Matuszik there?" Tobias noticed how soft his own voice sounded. "I-I need to..." "You need to listen to the sound of my voice, Tobias," the woman gently interjected. "Just my voice. Only my voice. That is all that matters to you right now. Juuuust my voice. That's right. Muuuuust do whatever my voice tells you to do." "Is this...is this you, Doctor?" "Did I tell you to talk?" the woman's voice asked. "Did I tell you to ask questions?" Tobias sighed, unconsciously bringing a hand to one of his fleshy breasts to grope curiously at it. "No." "That's right," the woman's voice continued. "All you want to do is listen, and rub at your chest. Nothing else matters. All you want to do is listen, and put your wireless headphones on." Tobias stepped over to where he kept his earbuds, and fastened them to his ears. After a moment, the audio signal from the phone transferred to the earbuds. The bass of the undercurrent that was the mesmerizing tone had a much more potent effect on the young man's mind now as the woman continued to speak through the earbuds. "That's right," the voice cooed. "All you want to do is listen. Juuuuuust listen. My voice is your life. My voice tells you what to do. You're such a timid little thing otherwise. You're so naturally meek. You need the guidance of my voice. Every time you try to resist makes you so much more timid and meek. You crave my guidance, as much as you crave hot, sexual chocolate. The mere mention of chocolate makes you so aroused. Makes you think of hard, sweaty, strong brown bodies. That's right. It makes you weak and girly inside. So timid. So weak. So girly. So meek." The voice went quiet for a moment as the words sunk in, assisted by the strong hypnotic tone serving as the undercurrent for her voice. Tobias, whose body had been filled with a drug that made his mind more compliant, just stood there with his mouth hanging open as the familiar- sounding woman's words made him feel weak in the knees. Whatever part of him wanted to question the voice, and challenge its apparent authority, dissolved quickly as the woman slowly whispered those four words...over and over...for the next five minutes. Weak. Girly. Timid. Meek. After a moment of silence, the female voice spoke a direct request. "Go to your front door, and open it. Now." Still holding his smartphone, Tobias stepped downstairs, still barefoot and with the top of his nightclothes unbuttoned. Going through the house's living room, however, he had to stop, and let out a girlish gasp. Leslie...his mother...had apparently passed out on the couch. He could hear hear faint breathing, so he knew she was alive. On the nearby coffee table was an empty bottle of liquor. His hands went to his mouth fearfully as he went to the front door. Opening it up, he saw a vision he had only seen once before, during a Bullchester bus ride. Olivia Tench...dressed in a tight, one-piece cherry red lycra dress, with her hair in her customarily long ponytail...smiled lasciviously as she stepped in, forcing Tobias to back away a bit. In her right hand, she held a pair of full, plastic shopping bags. He practically shrank as he backtracked. Smirking, Olivia dropped the bag next to her, reached over to the young man's earbuds and pulled them both out, slipping them into her pocketbook. Olivia stepped right in front of Tobias, her hands settling on his shoulders. "You're not wearing your bra, Coco." "But...but...D-Doctor Matuszik said she'd...she'd fix me..." Tobias fearfully whined. "That's no excuse." Olivia glared down at the cringing young man, who now knew that her voice, and the one that had been speaking to him on his smartphone, was one and the same. "Look at yourself. Do men have breasts that big? I suppose you think these are man-boobs, don't you? Silly girl." "Please..." Tobias moved towards the occupied couch. "...mom...mom, I..." Olivia giggled wickedly. "Yes, it seems your mother has reawakened her old boozing habits. She'll be out for awhile, I'm afraid. Should be one hell of a hangover." When Olivia's hands returned to the scared young man's face, he just stared up at her. "What am I...what am I gonna do?" He quietly asked as the woman's fingers fiddled with his longer hair. "First," Olivia responded. "We're gonna go into your mother's room. Then, I'm going to tell you a story," She then spun him around, facing him towards the stairway to the house's second level. "Take me to your mother's room. Bring the bags I brought in with me. Now." Although he glanced worriedly to his sleeping mother, Tobias approached the plastic bag, picked it up, and then drifted towards the stairs, slowly making his way up. Olivia's high-heeled shoes clacked loudly as she began her ascent up the steps, following close behind the now timid young man. "W-what about dad?" Tobias worriedly asked. "If he sees you..." "Your father's not home," Olivia answered. "He must be in someone else's bedroom tonight." This took him by surprise, even with the heavy conditioning that was setting in. The one thing Tobias had never seen his mother and father do was to engage in a nasty fight. He did see them bicker every once in a while, but it wasn't so bad as to make him think that their marriage was about to collapse. He did know that his mother had been trying to kick a chronic drinking habit, though. Going into the feminine bedroom, Olivia spotted a vanity table with a swivel mirror, and she guided Tobias towards it. The first thing she did when they got there was to swivel the reflective surface so that it faced the wall behind it. She then gestured for Tobias to sit in the chair that was in front of the vanity. "Close your eyes, Coco," Olivia instructed next as she picked up and opened a folded metal chair in the room. She then placed it in front of Tobias. "Do not open them until I tell you to." Her hands then grabbed articles of makeup as Tobias idly waited, keeping his eyes closed. When she began applying foundation to the young man's face, she began speaking. "Now I think there's something you should know about your parents. You know...the ones who made you a part of this little scheme of theirs? You may think they're all nice and inseparable, but if you knew what I know about them? You'd probably want to throw up." She continued to work on his face as she continued speaking, picking up and putting down various pieces of makeup from not only his mother's vanity table, but her own supply of makeup, which she procured from the pocketbook slung across her body. Some of the more provocative and slutty makeup elements naturally came from Olivia's pocketbook. "Your parents are gold diggers, dear," Olivia began. "Selfish, trendy, and very, very sneaky. They have a horrible fashion sense, too, but...that's a minor quirk. You see, they both knew that their grandparents were building up a pretty big fortune from their wartime investments, and your grandfather's veteran's benefits, as they got older. Before your parents even married, they had a mutual desire to empty the pockets of their grandparents over a period of time. It's only because Harvey and Glenda were so stubborn...and rightfully so...that they got themselves jobs after the honeymoon. When they talked about having a child, they wanted to get you in on their scheme when you were old enough." Despite the feel of brushes...and the smell of the makeup...against his face, Tobias kept listening. He found it difficult to believe what he was hearing, but...this was the voice that offered him guidance. It had to be true. And, in fact, it was the truth, as Olivia had been sent detailed files on Tobias's parents prior to beginning the intense eroding of the young man's masculinity by the Sisterhood. "They also had you because they thought it was the trend among 'well- adjusted families'," Olivia continued. "They only wanted one kid because if they had any more, they knew it would impact their daily expenses. Didn't have anything to do with love. Oh, I'm sure they might have told you from time to time, but...if you ask me, I think they were just telling you things you wanted to hear...but then, I suppose being promised a cut of the profits your parents were going to reap at the expense of your grandparents is far more important to you than just love, right? Or so you were raised to believe?" The young man's expression remained neutral as Olivia continued to work on his face. Powders, eyeliners, blush, lipstick...they were all being applied. He started to feel like a painter's blank canvas surface. "You don't have any girlfriends, do you, Coco?" Olivia then asked. "No boyfriends?" Tobias slowly shook his head. "I didn't think so," Olivia noted, feigning acknowledgement, even though she knew he had always been unable to develop any kind of a relationship given his social awkwardness. "You must be pretty pathetic as a man. Take heart, though...you're not the first student at Feetham's to have been given a second chance at life courtesy of the Sisterhood." As Olivia finished her makeover, a remote signal, transmitted via the Sisterhood's Survstar network, had completed its download of a subliminal audio file which would develop Tobias's conditioning further, but these subliminals needed to be seeded unto the young man's subconscious mind. "On your feet, slut," Olivia commanded. She then led the dazed and astonished young man back to his bedroom, and had him lay upon his bed. Placing the earbuds back on his ears, she took the smartphone out of his hand and started playing the freshly- downloaded file which would put Tobias to sleep, and begin whispering, sensually, unto his more pliant mind. Once the young man's eyes fluttered shut, and he lapsed into a deep sleep, Olivia stepped over to his dresser, and pulled open the drawers containing his male clothes. She had a feeling he wouldn't be needing them anymore.