Barford File 2 - The Betancourts - Chapters V And VI free porn video

V: Of Mice and Mistresses Harvey came out of the shower toweling himself off as Glenda stood in front of the large mirror to apply a curling regimen she had developed with her hair using the curling iron. She had wanted to be able to practice achieving the coiffures of the past in the present. Harvey had already applied his hair gel, having practically sculpted his hair into the desired style, which was always parted to one side, and swept back. As the pink water continued to improve his looks, he was practically an adolescent young man again in terms of his appearance. As he had been working out, he was already in the process of developing a well-toned body, half of which was covered by a white towel wrapped around his waist. There was something on his mind as he settled into a chair near where his wife was continuing to work on her hair. "Can you...spare a few minutes, Glennie doll?" Glenda nodded, unplugging the curling iron and stowing it away safely so that she could give Harvey her full attention. "Well...first off, don't get me wrong," Harvey began. "I'm still loving that, uh...we've been given the chance to be, well, younger again, but...how come they're not sharing something like this with others? Doesn't seem fair that people in this building are getting the benefits, but no one outside of Bullchester will. I mean...what's the justice in everyone else around us withering away, while you and I are sharing a morning jog?" Glenda shrugged. "Do we know anything about whoever it is that created this, uh, fountain-of-youth stuff?" Harvey sighed. "I wish I did." "Well, if you ask me, I wouldn't go asking questions until you do know, honey," Glenda advised. The rejuvenated man frowned curiously. "You haven't been curious? That's kind of strange. Before you took your first bath, you were terrified that they were gonna drug us both up. Make us both, like, senile zombies." "Oh, that was just me being all stubborn," Glenda reasoned, waving the notion off dismissively. "You know how I can get when I'm like that. How hard was it for you to get me to ride a rollercoaster for the first time? Ever since that first ride, I've been insisting on riding in the first car, and goin' on coasters with the biggest drops. Last time I was at that...that big amusement park in New Jersey, all I did was sit and watch people ride those coasters because I was too old to actually ride them. But now? I wanna go back there and actually ride them!" She stepped up close to Harvey, who still marveled over how incredibly attractive his wife had become as she wrapped his arms around him. "We should go back there sometime soon." Harvey smiled. "Yeah, I...I think we can head back out there. We're gonna need a car again, though. My son still has the station wagon, not that I'd ever want to take it back." "So? Let's you and I spring for a Studebaker or something!" Glenda offered. "I wonder if someone has an antique Tucker Torpedo. You know I've always wanted one of those." Harvey chuckled. "You're talkin' ancient history, Glennie doll. Nowadays, it's all that Fast-and-the-Furious stuff. Electric cars. They're phasin' outta gas guzzlers these days. You'd be lucky to find cars that old...and that work the way they're supposed to...on that eBay site." Glenda sighed. "I guess we've got a bit of catching-up to do, don't we?" "Well...we're kinda getting away from what I wanted to talk about, hon," Harvey reminded. "Maybe you could ask around? I mean, among the friends we've made?" His wife frowned curiously. "Have you brought your concerns up with anyone else?" Harvey nodded. "Barry, but...he told me to keep quiet about it. In fact, he made it sound like a warning." Glenda's eyes widened in her surprise. "He warned you?" Her husband again nodded. "Made me wonder if we've stumbled onto some kind of conspiracy." "Well...we didn't stumble into anything, honey," Glenda noted. "We're here because the Betancourts wanted to get rid of us, and steal our bank accounts for their own use. Remember? The way I see it, we should be thanking them for bringing us here. They obviously didn't know about this place's little...secret." "Yeah...but I don't think the people running this place are willing to share this 'secret' with too many others," Harvey noted. "There are veterans still alive today who were forced to endure the horrors of war alongside me, but they never had the chance to enjoy civilian life as adolescents because they were too busy risking their lives overseas. I dunno, Glennie...I guess I'm just not the 'live and let live' type. Somethin' about this thing kinda stinks." Glenda stepped in close to her husband to speak more discreetly. "Well...I would think, as a former soldier, you'd understand the value of being careful about something like this. I mean...we don't know how big this conspiracy is. I think the best thing we can do right now is to keep our ears open. If we hear anything more, we'll have ourselves another private chat. How does that sound?" After a moment of thought, Harvey nodded. "I s'pose you're right. Maybe give it a week or so...but I'm holdin' you to this, Glennie doll. I'm not just gonna put this outta my mind." Glenda, smiling a bit, gave her husband a salute in acknowledgement. "Yes, sir." Harvey's head then lowered. He looked regretful now as Glenda tilted her head curiously. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Huh? Oh...I was...just thinking of Arn an'...Les," Harvey responded. "I just...never expected they'd turn out as they did. I thought them havin' a child might mellow them out a little, but..." "Leslie was always selfish. Real take-charge kind of girl when she was younger," Glenda reasoned. "I kinda had a feeling she'd become a gold digger when she got older." "And my son was never really a take-charge kinda guy around women," Harvey admitted. "He an' Les always had a love-hate thing goin' on when they were growin' up in the old neighborhood." Glenda nodded. "Now look at them. Working together just to get at our money." "An' makin' their son part of the plan!" Harvey added. "I know Maude said they'd do somethin' about that...whoever 'they' are...but as much as I know Arn and Les weren't able to get at the accounts, whaddya think 'they' are gonna do to them?" "No idea," Glenda responded. "All 'they' told us was that your son, my daughter, and their son weren't gonna get hurt. Much." * * * Leslie's head pounded mercilessly as she sat at the kitchen table of their home, sipping from a fresh cup of coffee. Her eyes were still half-lidded, and she still felt weary. She could hardly remember what she was doing the previous evening, but she knew that it was something about a meeting, which may not have happened. Having regained enough lucidity to at least check her smartphone for any more text messages from 'Tanya', she saw that the last text she had sent was the one about her possibly being late for their rendezevous at the Hail Mary pub. She knew enough about hangovers, too, to know that she had violated her Alcoholics Anonymous pledge. So much for being reformed. Leslie thought to herself. Least I was able to get to the toilet bowl when I threw up. Again. As the house was completely quiet, she was able to hear faint clicks...and a slight creaking...at the front door. It was enough to slowly bring Leslie to her feet, and she began to approach the front door just as quietly, which was easy as she was barefoot. Arnold? She quietly wondered as she moved. Following the source of the moving noise, which was apparently heading towards the staircase, she finally spotted a man with Arnold's build...clad in a large overcoat...who was about to begin his climb up the steps. "Arnold?" The man froze, and just as his right foot was about to settle on the first step. "Hi, honey," Arnold spoke weirdly. As if he were trying to be more...manly. Leslie took a step closer. "Arnold, why are you...?" After a moment, Arnold attempted his excuse. "Kindaaaa...cold out there today. Might...might have rained." Leslie blinked in disbelief. "It's 70 degrees out there." Arnold shrugged. "Didn't wanna...didn't wanna, um, take chances." "Uh-huh," Leslie skeptically replied. "Turn around and take that jacket off, Arn." After a long moment, Arnold began hurrying up the steps. Leslie followed right behind him. "Arn?? ARN!" She barked as she closed the distance. "Take off that jacket before I rip the fuckin' thing off of you!" Leslie was able to grab the overcoat's belt, effectively stopping his advance. She then spent the next five minutes forcing the coat off of him by any means necessary. When she finally saw what Arnold looked like with the coat removed, the world just seemed to stop for her. Her husband's desperate attempts to explain were practically unintelligible murmurs. The forward movement of time came to a dead halt in that moment. Still in a daze of disbelief over the distinct lip marks, among other things, that she had seen on Arnold's face, she then turned and slowly headed downstairs. Leslie then drifted out the front door. Arnold didn't follow her. There wasn't much he could say or do at the moment. Instead, he fixed his disheveled black and white maid uniform, and began looking for a Lysol can so that he could weaken the scent of vomit coming from the bathroom. The couch Leslie had passed out on also needed to be straightened up. The carpet needed to be vaccummed, any dishes in the sink needed to be washed, and when it was time to return to the Goddess, he needed to go through the whole routine all over again. Which, unlike what he might have thought before meeting Iris Cooper, didn't bother him at all. * * * Tobias's eyes began to flutter slowly, before they finally opened wide. Initially confused as to why he initially could not hear anything, he quickly realized that it was because he had wireless headphones in his ears, and they were dead silent. Pulling the earbuds out, he heard the faint drone of a vacuum cleaner coming from the other side of the front door to his room. He found this odd, because he never knew his mother to be home during the time in which she was supposed to be working. Rising up from his bed, he looked down at himself, hoping that the torrid events of last night were just a vivid nightmare, but he saw that he still had a pair of C-cup breasts on his chest. His posterior remained large, as well. How am I gonna explain this to mom?? He worriedly thought to himself. With his gut still in a knot of worry, Tobias slid off of the bed, unconsciously posturing himself strangely, and rose to his feet. His first stop was the dresser, which had a face-sized mirror on top of it... ...and when he saw the reflection of his face, his hands stopped just short of the drawer he wanted to pull open. His sensually-decorated eyes widened as he brought his face closer to the mirror. The face of Tobias Betancourt, with so much makeup covering it, looked distinctly and unmistakably feminine. The general foundation of his face, and even his neck, had a bronze-like tone to it, while his lips were covered with dark brown lipstick. There was a brownish blush to his cheeks, and his eyelids were covered with dark brown eyeshadow. His eyebrows looked thinner, and the black eyeliner he was wearing had a design similar to that of an ancient Egyptian princess. A shaky hand slowly went to his face as he continued to stare at its own reflection. His eyes fearfully went from the mirror to the door as the sound of the vacuum cleaner came close. He heard the head of the machine bump against the bottom edge of the door as it continued doing its work. As he waited for the sound of the vacuum cleaner to go silent, and for his mother to go back downstairs, he figured he would at least find something to wear. He pulled open the drawer of his dresser where he knew his clothes were... ...and saw entirely unfamiliar garments. Checking each of the drawers of his dresser, he saw that all of his male clothing was completely gone. The female underwear he had recently purchased, on the other hand, remained where he had stored them. One of the drawers, which once had spare T-shirts, was now loaded with makeup materials. A stack of makeup kits were flanked with rows of lipstick in various colors, small saucers of eyeliner could be seen, and various, untouched makeup appliers could be seen. Upon seeing all of this, Tobias made the mental leap to what had happened to Alex, and he hurried over to his room's closet, which was where he kept his box of cards. He knew exactly where to look to find them, too. As he had feared, the box was gone. Removed from where Tobias had left them. In its place, however, was a large, full shopping bag. Upon removing the bag and opening it up, he saw a variety of hair care products, including more of the coconut body wash, a hair dryer, hair brushes, combs, hairspray, styling gel, and a state-of-the-art curling iron. Upon seeing these items in the place of his box of gaming cards, he was aghast. For all of one, single second. His more sensible side tried to assert itself as he brought the entire bag over to his garbage bin... ...but he placed the bag on his bed instead. He figured perhaps he could remove the items, one at a time, from the bag and drop them in the garbage bin... ...but when he pulled out the first item, which was a styling brush, he instead pulled off the cardboard backing and ran the brush through his hair, brushing his mullet out thoroughly. He stopped himself, a look of confusion on his face. He thought about dropping the brush to the ground, but the hand that gripped the brush placed it on top of his dresser instead. Practically as a reflex action. It seemed that whenever Tobias had a mind to dispose of these new things that were clearly designed for a woman's use, he found his body doing the exact opposite. Out came the hairspray, in his momentary desire to throw it into the garbage bin. He instead shook it in his desperate want to toss it, and he misted quite a bit of the spray onto his hair instead. His hands then went back to the styling brush, and he began to reshape his moist mullet to a more feminine appearance as the spray formula dried, and held the wavy shape in place. His hands went to his face in his mounting fear. "I am not...a girl...!" He hissed defiantly, and through clenched teeth. "I'm a gal...I-I mean...I'm a b-babe..." He tried to say the word 'boy'. "...booob...babe..." His mouth wouldn't say the words he had really wanted to say. Words like 'boy', 'guy', 'man', 'male'...any masculine phrase, in reference to himself...were now astonishingly impossible for his mouth to vocalize. What's HAPPENING to me?? The sensible side of his evidently-weakening male mind protested. At this point, he noticed that the vacuum cleaner had been turned off outside, and he was hearing the sound of high-heeled shoes clacking down the stairs. A few minutes later, the vacuum cleaner came on again, but Tobias knew it was now running over the floor below, which finally gave him a safe, unobservable passage to the Mistresses. Mistresses? He frowned in his unexpected mental confusion. His initial urge was to head for the bathroom so he could wash away the makeup! Where did THAT thought come from?? He knew, however, that the name...'Mistresses'...referred to a place in Bullchester which was fairly new, and understandably mysterious. He remembered seeing seductive-looking ladies in front of it from time to time during rides to and from Feetham's. Hookers, he had surmised. Not the kinds of people his parents would want him to be around, no matter how wildly attractive they looked. It was also clear that if he were to go to Mistresses, he could not do so in his nightclothes. Removing both pieces of his nightclothes, he looked down at his naked, hairless, and inescapably feminine body. Unlike before, he now clearly had a reason to wear the women's undergarments he had purchased at Madame Olivia's behest. Pulling open the drawer containing these undergarments, he pulled out a silken, olive-colored pair of panties, and the bra that went with them. Slipping them up his thighs, he saw that they betrayed a bit of a bulge where his genitalia was, but they otherwise looked...better than they did when he wore such undergarments for the first time. It felt oddly stimulating to Tobias to actually have breasts to place in the cups of the bra, which was designed for a B-cup. His breasts, however, were bigger than this, and they seemed to strain to hold these larger mammaries. He then went into the drawer with the feminine clothes that had apparently placed his male ones. The folded garment that caught his eye was a cherry red one-piece lycra dress. The tight dress hugged him as he slid the smooth, stretchy garment up his body. He found that it was a backless dress with a collar strip which wrapped around his neck and fastened behind him with a sewed-in Velcro attachment. A space had been cut between the area of his breasts, presumably to show off whatever cleavage the wearer wanted to display. The way Tobias had worn the upper half of this dress, however, made him look silly. The chest portion of the dress was crushed together between his breasts. Seeing as how the olive bra was covering his breasts, he figured he would be fine. Yet another unexpected reflex action sent Tobias back to the closet to procure two more articles of clothing. A pair of sheer pantyhose, and a pair of high-heeled shoes. The last time he had placed pantyhose over his legs, he did so as if they were male socks. What he unconsciously did this time, however, was to roll up the lengths of the pantyhose until he could slip them on over his foot, after which he could slowly roll them up his legs. As he suspected, the shoes proved a perfect fit, although when he tried to walk around in them, he moved awkwardly, and very nearly stumbled. He spent the next ten minutes getting his feet used to the feel of being in heels. He mused to himself that in his attempt to go down a flight of stairs, suffering a fatal fall...under the circumstances...would be a blessing. Although his mind again contemplated a trip to the bathroom to end this insane charade, he instead took his first trip down the stairs in heels. He moved carefully, going one step at a time. Unfortunately for him, he made it down the stairs safely on his very first try. Now it was just a matter of making it to the front door without being noticed... ...and that was when Tobias spotted a uniformed maid stepping back into the Living Room, which he needed to go through in order to get to the front door. The effeminate young man's eyes locked on the maid, widening in shock when he realized that aside from the maid outfit, the makeup, and the very differently-styled hair, the domestic servant very closely resembled his own father. "D...Dad??" Tobias quietly remarked in his disbelief. Arnold was still stunned as his son...who looked noticeably more female than male...suddenly hastened his way towards the front door, clacking upon the high heels he was wearing on the way over. Once Tobias was outside, he could see Bullchester citizens...male and female...glancing in his direction curiously. Some of those gazes lingered, while others giggled over how silly his dress looked. He wanted to keel over and die right where he stood. He was completely petrified. Being struck dead by a bolt from the blue was his only chance... ...but it was a clear, sunny day. No chance of that at all. Five long minutes later, the repeated beeping of a car's horn finally broke Tobias out of his paralysis. Particularly when he heard his name being called out to him by a familiar voice. "Toby!" The voice was much sharper now. Looking around, his eyes finally settled on the smartly-dressed executive that was his best friend's mother. "Why are you just standing there, silly?" Vera chirped, flashing her pleasant smile. "Is there some place you need to be? School, maybe?" Tobias shook his femininely-styled head. He continued to gaze at Vera as she got out of her car and hurried over to where the effeminate young man was standing. "Come on, now...let me give you a lift," Vera pulled him forward, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and he once again stumbled a bit on his heels. He managed a quick recovery as Vera spoke. "Where do you need to go?" A Police Station. His sensible id advised. Tell her you want to go to a Police Station! "Mmmm-Mistresses," his mouth finally blurted out, despite himself. "Oh-ho," Vera exclaimed as she settled Tobias into the passenger seat of her Jaguar. She then hurried over to the driver side and roared away from the Betancourt house quickly. "Going to the House of Hanky-Panky, eh? Well, it could have been worse. We could have sent you to the Fertility Clinic, where they fatten up prison inmates with embryos." Tobias turned his head to Vera. "We?" he squeaked. The executive smiled as she kept her eyes on the road. "'We' are the future, young man. The days of women being told to stay at home and make babies while the man goes out and does all the work, and fraternizes with the kind of woman you are becoming behind the backs of their spouses on a whim, are done. Now that there is a Mayoress in the seat of municipal power in Bullchester rather than a council full of womanizing male pigs, we're going to set an example so big, and so loud, that the rest of the men on this world will have no choice but to listen to us, and learn their hard lessons. Even if we have to turn them all into the big-chested bimbos we know they lust after." "Y-you did that...to Alex?" "Alexis, dear. Alexis," Vera firmly corrected. "His schoolwork had been suffering ever since he started playing that stupid card game you and him were playing. Then there's all those violent movies, videogames, and TV shows his father got him into. Well, I'm not going to stand idly by while my own son considers shooting up innocent people in a supermarket when he gets older. Madame Noble made it clear to me that I needed to take the bull by the horns, and act in defense of my concerns. Alexis loves the way she's developing, too. She's gonna be one hot little minx," She glanced to Tobias. "I have a feeling they're gonna love the way you're developing, too." The car finally settled in front of a familiar storefront. Upon a white awning, hovering over the front door, was painted the word Mistresses. Vera once again looked to her nervous passenger, flashing a cheery smile as she spoke pleasantly. "Last stop! Have a good day, dear." Tobias just stared in disbelief at the Loris executive. In that long moment, he began to understand why his father looked the way he did...but what about his mother? He had to wonder what happened to her. The last time he saw her, she was passed out on the couch following an apparent drinking binge. She was obviously unable to stick to her AA vows, just as Tobias had suspected. The tone of Vera's voice was much sharper now as she spoke. "Get out of the car. Right now." Intimidated, Tobias released himself from the seatbelt and opened the door...but one of Vera's hands suddenly grabbed his arm, exerting a painfully tight grip that made Tobias wince. "Excuse me?" Vera sharply remarked. "How do you respond to my generosity, bitch?" The masculine propensity to counter this demand was clearly not there, having been replaced by the kind of fear that was a part of his conditioned timidity. "Th-thank you...?" The pleasant-looking executive smirked, releasing him. "That's better." Reaching over to slam the passenger door shut, Vera quickly raced away from the front of the place, leaving Tobias to slowly approach the front door of Mistresses. As he did, the door opened on its own...but only because it was being pushed open from within. Purple neon lights illuminated the hourglass- like form of Olivia Tench as she grinned, like a hungry arachnid seeing its food literally walk into its waiting limbs. "Step into my parlour, little fly," Olivia purred. * * * Glenda's eyes were perpetually wide as she stepped through the pedestrian spaces of Rubie's Mall. It had been some time since she had gone through the shopping mecca, and she remembered the place being...an average collection of shops, at best. Going through it now, however, she noted that the place had gone visibly upscale, and the emphasis...which had, in the past, mostly catered to men's fashions, trends, and a more skimpy representation of women's fashions, with the occasional conservative fashion stores thrown in...now seemed to place more of an emphasis on the opposite sex. Among the shoppers, women went to and fro with a sense of pride and power, while men...young and old...seemed to step warily and carefully, noticing that there were men who appeared to be a bit more feminine in nature compared to their own, unaltered selves. One of these young men...a teenager...approached Glenda with a somewhat fearful look in his eye, stepping right in front of her. "Don't go into the Butterfly Salon. Please," he pleaded, as Glenda caught the scent of feminine perfume on the young man. "It's...it's dangerous." Glenda frowned. "Why would you say that, young man?" Apparently noticing that someone was following him, the young man suddenly dashed away. A minute or so later, a bald, muscle-bound man dashed past Glenda, no doubt racing after the frightened teenager. Concern was now on Glenda's face as she watched as much of the chase as she could before they both disappeared from sight. Other shoppers also watched them go, and they mingled some manner of concern, worry, or in some cases, dismissal, and even amusement over what was going on. "Crap like that is nothing terribly unusual around here," a female voice behind her mused aloud. Glenda turned her attention to the voice, and saw that it came from a pixie-haired platinum blonde with what looked to be a heavily made over face that seemed to scream of plastic surgery modifications. She noticed that this woman also had indications of tattoo designs upon the exposed areas of her body, and she wore a blouse that exposed the valleys of cleavage on her chest. Behind her were two other women. One was a redhead, and the other was a more vaguely familiar, plus-sized platinum blonde with large breasts, and a noticeably big posterior. They, too, had their attentions diverted by the pursuit. "Do you know who that young man was?" Glenda asked. The woman shrugged, smiling. "Probably a student from Feetham's. Guys like him tend to get spooked out these days when they come to Rubie's, but it's nothing someone like you should be worried about," The woman then extended a hand in greeting. "I'm Lois Fryer." The rejuvenated woman accepted the hand. "Glenda. Glenda Hemingforth." "I...hope you don't mind, but...it seems one of my friends took an interest in your hairstyle," Lois remarked. "She did a fashion shoot once with a similar coif," She then guided Glenda over to her friends, gesturing to the redhead first. "These are my two friends. This is Lena, one of my co-workers." Lena grinned. "Nice to meet you, Miss." Lois then gestured to the much more provocative-looking blonde. "And this is the woman who asked about your hair. Tamara, this is Glenda." The busty blonde offered a smile as she offered a cordial nod. "Hello, Glenda." The rejuvenated woman took a step closer to Tamara in her more evident curiosity. "Did you...do a photo shoot for a magazine once? Are you the same Tamara?" The plus-sized woman nodded, smiling a bit. "Yes. That was me." "I still have that magazine," Glenda chimed. "I have to thank you for the good memories that spread brought back, dear...although I wish I could have been there to correct the mistakes to your coif. Did you do your own hair?" Tamara shook her head. "Hired stylist's work. I was just along for the ride." "If you're ever curious about how it could be done right, just let me know," Glenda offered as she walked alongside the plus-sized woman, who followed Lois and Lena. "I'll show you where that stylist went wrong." Tamara giggled a bit. "It's no big deal. I'm not really doing that anymore. Too busy with another job." Glenda couldn't help but be curious. "Oh? What kind of job?" "Chewing bubble gum and flaunting her big ass," Lois mused, putting herself and Lena into a giggle fit, to which Tamara smirked in response. "I'm working with Mayoress Stroud." Tamara then revealed as Lois and Lena lapsed into a bit of detached gossip. "I'm her secretary. She says personal assistant, but...Julia hasn't really needed me beyond my regular work hours. Not yet, at least." "So...it's not like she needs you twenty-four-seven?" Glenda wondered aloud. "You do have time to yourself?" Tamara shrugged. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be here right now with these two harpies," She gestured towards the two women in front of them. Lois smirked. "You love us and you know it, bimbo babe." Tamara smirked back, then turned her attention back to Glenda. "One trip to the Butterfly Salon, and she thinks I'm one of her mallrats." Glenda's eyes widened. "You had plastic surgery done?" "More like a pampering, but...if you consider a bit of botox plastic surgery, then yes," Tamara admitted. "Cheekbones," Lena reminded. Tamara deflected this. "I'm...trying not to be as crazy about it as they are. Last thing I want is to become some kind of Barbie doll." "Well, if you ask me, you look fine, Tamara," Glenda assured. "It doesn't look like you've overdone it." "Yet," Lois subtly added. Tamara's tone turned discreet now. "Temptations seem to be a common thing here in Bullchester these days. I won't deny that I've fallen victim to some of them, but...at least I'm still, you know, me." Glenda frowned, her curiosity provoked further. "Still...you? How do you mean?" Tamara stopped for a moment to go into her pocketbook. She pulled out a well-crafted business card and handed it to Glenda. "I can do a better job of answering that if you contact me outside of here. I can go into a little more detail, but...you'd have to keep what I tell you to yourself. I can't promise that we won't be eavesdropped upon, either." Still frowning, and noticing that Lois and Lena were now more absorbed in their own gossip than the ladies behind them, Glenda pulled Tamara in the opposite direction and began walking away from Lois and Lena. The rejuvenated woman had some talent in disappearing amidst large crowds from her days working with the USO, and she demonstrated her talent here. Tamara was momentarily surprised by this sudden initiative, but as always, she went with it. Apparently, Glenda's want for more elaboration was a bit more fierce than the plus-sized secretary initially imagined. "You realize we could have eyes on us right now," Tamara warned. "Well, some of us former USO girls like to live dangerously," Glenda replied. "Besides...I know a homefront warrior when I hear one. You're no bimbo, sweetie." When the two ladies finally settled themselves on a different floor of the mall, and a considerable distance away from where Lois and Lena were, they settled into ceramic benches at a table in the most remote area of the mall's food court on the lowest level, a few feet away from where the fast food place that used to be Great Big Cal's was boarded up. Once they were both in benches, Glenda turned to Tamara. "Talk to me." Tamara had to appreciate this woman's bravado, as well as her chutzpah. Still...she hardly knew this woman, and as a consequence, she wanted to be as cautious as she could. "How new are you to Bullchester, Glenda?" "Actually, I've lived here all my life," Glenda answered. "Never realized there was all this cloak and dagger stuff going on, though." Glenda then provided Tamara with a brief on what had happened to her since she and her husband were purposely abandoned at the retirement home. She spoke of how the waters of its bath rejuvenated her, and her husband, from their very advanced and natural age. She also spoke of the veiled threats her husband had received. The entire time, Glenda checked around the immediate area to see if Lois and Lena were near, but there wasn't a trace of them for the moment. Not even in the distance. Tamara found this new information astonishing. Her tone went discreet as she made her initial observations. "Goddess...they...they made you young again?" Glenda nodded. "They hinted at being able to make someone older, too. My husband is getting very suspicious. He doesn't like the fact that they're not sharing this with anyone else." "Oh, this definitely sounds like the kind of thing the Sisterhood would want to keep a tight leash on," Tamara surmised aloud. "But I wonder if you're aware that age isn't the only thing the Sisterhood tampers with. You say you're a native of Bullchester. Can you tell me if this Mall looked any different from what it is now a few years back?" Glenda grinned. "The difference is clearly apples and oranges. It...looks a lot more, uh...feminine." "Have you ever wondered why, Glenda?" Glenda shrugged. "New management? Changing trends? Damned if I know." "Well...it's easier if I put it to you this way," Tamara remarked. "I used to be a young man. My name used to be Timothy Portnoy." Glenda's eyes were as wide as saucers. She couldn't feel skeptical about a claim like this. Particularly after what had happened to her since becoming a tenant at the Golden Sunshine Retirement Home. Tamara then went into her own brief about the events that led to Timothy becoming the plus-sized secretary she had been turned into through the temptations of Rita Noble, and the reasons why she had done so. "But...are you happy being like this, Tamara?" Glenda asked. "Y...yes. Yes, I am," Tamara answered, in a somewhat peculiar fashion. "I like being a woman. Well...I...I've grown to like it. But...I haven't forgotten what I was. I know everyone around me is trying to kill off the young man that I was. I can't let them win that little fight. I have to hold out. Fortunately, I have powerful friends." "Like the Mayoress?" Glenda surmised. "Yes, and...no," Tamara answered. "I can't completely trust Julia. Not yet. I can't tell you about the ones that I do trust. Not here. That, I'm afraid we'll have to discuss under more, uh...discreet channels, which I know is next to impossible in a city like Bullchester, but...I don't have much of a choice otherwise." Glenda now thought about her brief encounter with the scared young Feetham's student. "Was that young man being chased one of your friends?" "No, but I've seen him before," Tamara responded. "He probably told you the same thing he told me. He warned you about the Butterfly Salon, right?" Glenda nodded. "Well, take his advice," Tamara remarked. "Don't go there." "But...didn't you say that you went there?" Tamara nodded. "I made an arrangement. See...the thing about that Salon is that it's a very, very sneaky place. People go in, and they come out looking very different. Such is the nature of their business, I know, although the makeovers in there are...pretty radical. But, if you're on the Sisterhood's radar, and you've done things they don't approve of, that's when things get shady. Misogynists are their more popular targets. They'll get thrown into the Salon's machines, and not only will they come out of there looking different, they'll also have a brand new, much more feminine mindset. They may even get a new name. This is why it's important to keep quiet if you become aware of the truth. They'll find a way to get you in their machines otherwise, and they'll just wipe your suspicions away like a wet sponge on a fresh coffee stain." Glenda's eyes lowered to the tiled floor thoughtfully. "Dear God almighty..." "You're in a good position to help though, Glenda," Tamara noted. "After all...you were born a woman." "Am I?" Glenda raised an eyebrow. "You've forgotten that I used to be an old woman! If they could advance my age as well as regress it, they could take my youth away!" "All the more reason to try and keep quiet about it." "I should introduce you to my husband sometime," Glenda noted, already figuring something out after a moment of thought. "I have a feeling you'll like him, too. Maybe while we're at it, I can talk to you about, maybeeee, convincing the Mayoress to let me open up a new business? Someplace which is not this Butterfly Salon I keep hearing about?" Tamara smiled. "Sounds like a good strategy to me, Glenda. Call me. I'll see what I can arrange." The plus-sized blonde rose up, compelling Glenda to do the same. "I should get back to playing dumb for those two airheads now." "You're quite the soldier, Tamara," Glenda complimented as they began their journey out of the Food Court, taking the nearest escalator up. "I'm glad I met you." They both noticed that Lois was at the top of their escalator with her arms crossed in front of her. The expression on her well-sculpted face indicated a touch of annoyance. "How nice of you to get yourself lost, Barbie girl," Lois chided. "We've been walking all day," Glenda reasoned. "We needed a rest stop." Tamara shrugged, smiling. "What she said." Lois just nodded as the three ladies linked back up with Lena. Interestingly enough, as they walked, Lena conveniently engaged Tamara in a bit of idle gossip. It sounded something about marital advice as Lois stepped alongside Glenda. "So Glenda..." Lois began. "...did Tamara say anything about how dangerous the Butterfly Salon is?" Glenda shook her head. "She was too busy talking my ears off about how I should give the place a try." Lois smiled. "Did she? Hmmm...and are you going to take her advice?" Glenda just shrugged. "I'll think about it." Their concerns and issues dissolved as the quartet of ladies joined a gathered crowd for a live taping of an episode of The Merry Weather Show, which was being filmed at the Mall's Living Room set. Tamara regretfully thought of Charlene Merrywether as the show's bubbly hostess...Charlene's mother...walked out to greet the cheering crowds. * * * Tobias's steps remained awkward as Olivia Tench pulled him into the interior of the Mistresses establishment. Beyond the neon-lit foyer was an area which looked like it had once been a storefront before being apparently re-purposed. On a legless, armless, and headless plastic torso mannequin was the top portion of a maid outfit. Pictures of sex were everywhere as Tobias continued to scan around the interior area. A staircase led to an upper level which had a succession of doors. "What...kind of a place is this?" the feminized young man nervously asked. "To potential customers outside? It's an escort business." Olivia slowly clacked her heels to step in front of Tobias. "To you?" Closing the gap between them, Olivia's painted red lips came very close to the provocatively-dressed young man's right ear. "It's home." "Home??" Tobias took a step back, nearly losing his balance on the heels he was wearing. "No! I...I have a home. I just...I just came from there!" "Mmmmmm," Olivia shook her head slowly, still smiling as she once again closed in on Tobias. "You're mine now. You're gonna be one of my precious little whores. Isn't that what you wanted when you first saw me on the bus that day? To make me your hot little bitch?" "Oooooh." Another pair of heels loudly clacked down the staircase, diverting Tobias's attention...and when he looked over, he saw another very familiar face fixing an amused gaze upon him. Her huge lips were unmistakable. "Small world." Tobias swallowed hard as Emily Braithwaite...the ultra-bitchy young woman who had put Tobias down his inescapably effeminate path after dosing him with a Tear Duct at Rubie's Mall...stepped over to the feminized young man, who was now staring at her very nervously. "What are you looking at..." Emily brought her face very, very close to Tobias. "...bitch?" "She's one of us now, Emily," Olivia reminded as she stepped behind Tobias, wrapping her arms around him. "She's also going to want to make our newest security guard very, very happy. She'll practically be hanging on him day and night." Tobias frowned confusedly at this. "Sss...ssecurity guard??" Emily's right hand came up slowly, touching her fingertips at the side of the effeminate young man's face as her left hand settled on a bare spot of his developing breasts. At the same time, Olivia slipped her right hand beneath the skirt area of Tobias's tight dress. Emily's eyes narrowed seductively. "You want this," she purred, her lips inches away from those of the young man's own. "Tell me you want this, you dirrrrty little bitch." "W-want...what?" "To sssssuck," Emily hissed, pressing her forehead against his. "To get ffffucked." Although he was feeling very, very aroused, he also knew that this wasn't right. He shook his head. "This...this isn't my home," He weakly proclaimed. Olivia smirked as she pressed up against him from behind, practically sandwiching the effeminate boy between her and Emily. "Ohhhh yes it is, you dirty little whore. You already look like you belong here." "All you need now are breasts so big, they'll be pouring out of your bra," Emily mused. "And an ass just as big," Olivia added, alluringly cooing right into Tobias's ear. "Just as jiggly." "I saw it in your eyes when we met at that store in the mall." Emily brought her oversized lips to Tobias's other ear. "You want this." "You want this," Olivia hissed into his other ear. Olivia licked behind one ear, and Emily's lips sucked upon the lobe of the other... ...while Emily's left hand subtly stabbed the effeminate young man's nascent mammary with the Tear Duct she had concealed in that hand. At the same time, Olivia's right hand inserted the small needle of her own Tear Duct into one of Tobias's buttcheeks. They both squeezed the formulas in both, practically at the same time, into the young man's body. Tobias's eyes narrowed over the licking at his ears. He barely noticed the stings at his butt, and at his breast. He began to pant heavily as the two ladies continued to sandwich him between their warm bodies. They repeated their enticements. "You want this," whispered Emily. "You want this," hissed Olivia. Patches of warmth began to spread from the areas Olivia and Emily had injected. Tobias's eyes narrowed as the warmth rose. His eyes angled upward as he began to pant heavily. His mind also became a little more pliant...more susceptible to fresh suggestions...in that moment. "You're such a dirrrrty slut, Coco," Olivia cooed, still speaking in his ear. "Soooo weak when you see brown skin," Emily added. "It gets you all horny inside." "You wanna look like you belong to the black man," Olivia purred. "First, they get teased," Emily cooed. "Then, you get fucked," Olivia followed. "And then, you get fucked again," chimed Emily. "And again," from Olivia. "And again," from Emily. "Because you love being such a dirrrrty little whore," Olivia purred. By now, Tobias was lost in a quagmire of intense heat, mercilessly torturing his entire body. The heat was particularly intense at his chest and his ass, and he began panting heavily once again. "Uuuuhhhhhh...oh, god..." Tobias whined, quivering between the two ladies pressed against him. "...I...I'm so...s-sssooo hhhot...!!" "Go with your Madame Emily now, Coco dear," Olivia cooed, still speaking softly into his ear. "She's going to take you upstairs, and...teach you a few things." "Don't disappoint me, bitch," Emily growled, grabbing a handful of Tobias's hair from behind. "Or I'll personally feed you to the Feds." "Hhhhot...hhhot..." Tobias kept whimpering as Emily pulled him towards the stairs. "...sssso hhhhot..." Emily practically had to pull the effeminate young man up the stairs. He was barely able to make it, although one of his high-heeled shoes came off as he ascended. Olivia just shook her head, smiling in her amusement as she watched them go up. Once they were on the second floor, Tobias was so overcome with lustful heat that he dropped to the ground, and had to crawl the rest of the way to the door, following the plump-lipped Madame. The idea of seeing the feminized young man on all fours looked oddly appealing to Emily as she opened the door. "Get in here, little pet," She commanded. As Tobias waited on all fours, the heat continued to torture him. It became impossible for him to think clearly as music began to fill his ears. It was of the R&B variety. He saw Emily go to a ledge in the room...which had a large sofa against one wall...and set a lighted match to the end of a long stick. The tip glowed, and smoke began to trail up from the end. As Emily stepped away from this stick, briskly waving the match until the tiny flame on it died, a spicy scent began to fill the room. Dropping the dead match in a wastebasket, Tobias's now blurred vision caught sight of Emily pulling a long, flesh-colored object off of a wall. Going to a cabinet, she pulled a plastic container and opened it up, covering this object in a thick, watery substance before putting the container back in the cabinet. The heat at his posterior and at his chest seemed to pulse like a slow heartbeat now as he continued to pant. A sliver of drool emerged from his painted lips as his eyes narrowed. They went as wide as saucers, however, when he felt something wet slip and burrow into him from behind, and dug deeply into him. He gasped as he felt the thick object fill his anus. "Do you remember Jake, Coco?" Emily softly asked as she began to pull, and then push, the moist object digging into and out of him repeatedly. "Do you remember how excited you felt when you were near that big, strong, sweaty chocolate body of his?" Emily stopped pumping at his anus long enough to slip a picture upon the ground in front of Tobias's face. It was a picture of Jake, and he was in the buff. The pumping at his butt then resumed as Emily continued speaking, maintaining an alluring tone. "It makes you feel so girly to look at him. You can never be the kind of man that he is, Coco. You can only be his bitch. His slave. His slut." Emily kept pumping the firm latex toy into him from behind. The rhythm was faster now as Tobias began to pant and moan. "Can you feel it, bitch?" Emily cooed. "Can you feel his thick, huge black cock digging soooo deeply into your ass? Don't you want to make yo' sweet lil' fuckbooty bigger, ho?" Tobias's eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at Jake's picture. Emily kept purring and cooing provocations and suggestions that tightened their grip on the young man's mind, digging into his id like the talons of a bird of prey establishing a firm, deep, immovable grip. The sounds of the R&B music seemed to weld into his subconscious, and the spicy aroma of the burning incense made his mind all the more malleable. "Mmmmmm..." Emily purred. "...big booty...big titties..." She pumped the long dildo into him a little faster. "...big booty...big titties...big booty...big titties..." She mercilessly repeated these whispers directly into his ear. His tongue practically hung out of his mouth now, drooling upon the picture beneath his face. He couldn't fight this any further. His male id was too far gone. His masculinity was irredeemable. And the sensual heat, all over his body, kept him hopelessly docile the entire time. "Hhhhhhhot...." Tobias hissed as he panted heavily. "....hhhhhhhot..." "Is it hot in here? I never noticed," Emily taunted. "Maybe you should strip down, booty bitch," She pulled out the phallic object as she hissed into Tobias's ear. "Take off everything." As the feminized boy continued to pant heavily, he began to quickly pull off everything that he was wearing. His dress, and then his undergarments. Within five minutes, he was completely naked. He was still panting, however, as the serum was keeping his internal body temperature oppressively and sensually warm. "Ssss-sstill h...hhh...hhhooot...." he whispered with a shaky breath. "Mmm-hmm. You will be," Emily stepped in front of Tobias and pushed him down to his knees. She then presented a large, thick black rubber dildo to him. "Once you learn how to stimulate your sweet chocolate mack daddy with your other hole." "Mmm-my other...hole??" Emily tapped the head of the prosthetic penis against his upper lip, smirking. "Open wide, bitch." * * * At Tanya's urging, Leslie Betancourt gulped down the shot of a liquor choice she had asked the dark-haired woman to request after arriving at the Hail Mary tavern. The strong, senses-blitzing effect of the alcohol was preferable to the more shocking sight of her husband cross-dressed in a black and white maid outfit. When she asked for another one, Leslie did not ask for a shot. She instead asked for a full glass. Tanya smirked. "That good, huh?" "Mmm," Leslie nodded as she began to drink from the glass, squeezing her eyes shut over the powerful alcohol content. "You must have been a chronic drinker," Tanya mused as she sipped from her own drink which, unbeknownst to Leslie, had been watered down. Leslie already looked and sounded tipsy. "I won a drinking contest once. 'Bout a year or so before I met Arn. Big, fat, disgusting schlub. Kinda asshole who thinks a woman's place is in the kitchen," She stopped to gulp down more of her liquor. "Well, I sure showed that fat fuck. It was at drink number 19. I could hardly see, but...I fought through it. Next thing I know, I feel a big collapse, and an ugly noise. I found out later that the collapse I felt was that big ol' blob falling out of his chair, and the noise was him throwing up all over the damn floor." "But you won, right?" Tanya asked. "Course I fucking won. I didn't fall off my chair," Leslie replied. "That was the rule. Don't pass out, or fall out of your ch..." Her response was interrupted by a hiccup. "...your chair." "When did you throw up, though?" Tanya wondered aloud. Leslie grinned, now looking a bit moist from perspiration. "I didn't. Heh...I wouldn't give that dumpy ol' lump of flesh the satisfaction," She drained the rest of her glass. "Nope. Fuck that shit," She tapped the bar twice with an open hand in her conviction. "Fuck that shit," She muttered again. With another smirk, Tanya gestured for the bottle of liquor Leslie had been drinking and, upon acquiring it from the bartender, refilled Leslie's tall, wide, and empty glass once again. "I envy you, Leslie Betancourt." The woman with the blond-treated hair drained a quarter of the freshly- filled glass. "Y-you tryin' t' get me drunk, or...something?" Tanya grinned. "You love it and you know it." Leslie giggled at this. "F'gott'n how much I love..." She drank down a little more from the glass. "You out-drank that fat slob. You should feel invincible," Tanya placed an arm over the woman's shoulders. "You don't look invincible, though. You should change that." "Ohhhh, I'm not invissh-ible." Leslie's vision became a little more blurred now, and she struggled to keep her head from drooping. "I'd...shhtill have a...a job 'f I wasshh." "Then you need to make Leslie Betancourt look invincible," Tanya confided. "Do you trust me?" Leslie looked to her with a dizzy expression, and then shrugged. "Yeah, I trusssh." "Then you go ahead and you finish..." Tanya gestured to Leslie's glass. "...that drink, and then, we'll take a little trip to the Mall. I know a place there where you can be made to look a little less...plain. What do you say?" Leslie tapped her pocketbook as she answered. "No monnn-ny. Broke." "So? Pay me back," Tanya responded. "I'll get you all pampered and pretty, and you just pay me back whenever you can." "Bu...I can't j-job." "Probably because you look so plain, Leslie," Tanya chided. "After we come out of your pampering session, I have a feeling it's gonna be a lot easier for you to get yourself a job...unless you'd rather stumble around out there, drunk and fat, like those stinky ol' homeless derelicts?" "No! No, nooooonononononono." Leslie waved a hand around in firm denial as she spoke. "'kay. Firssh, gon' drink," The drunken woman then drained the rest of her glass of very strong liquor. Fighting off the effects of the alcohol as best she could as Tanya calmly finished her own smaller, watered-down liquor glass, Leslie slipped off of the stool and leaned against her dark-haired friend. "'Kaylesshgo." Tanya had to practically guide Leslie by hand over to the bar's entrance in order to get outside, and then again when they made their way to Tanya's car. In the short journey to the car, Leslie looked around for the old station wagon she drove over in. "'Ey...wheressssh mmm-my car?" "Unnecessary. We're using mine," Tanya tersely replied as she quickly opened a backseat passenger door and practically shoved Leslie in. She then hastily got into the driver side, stabbed the key into its socket, and brought the engine to life. At the press of a button, Tanya locked all of the doors to her car, knowing Leslie was now too drunk to be able to figure out how to get herself out. "M-my car..." Leslie wearily brought herself upright as the car roared out of its parking space. "...where...my car..." "Wasn't really your car, was it, Leslie?" Tanya rebuked as she drove. "Just another perk you appropriated from your own parents because you and your husband were too much like vultures. Not enough pennies in your piggy banks to get your own set of wheels? Fucking sad." "Piggy...?" Leslie now looked confused as she gazed at the back of Tanya's neck. "What th'fffffuck?" "Don't you worry, though." Tanya's words were now laced with sarcasm. "We'll fix that all up once you get to the Mall." The smell of liquor was heavy around Leslie as Tanya led her through the mall once the dark-haired woman settled her car in a parking space near the mall entrance and extracted her only passenger. She kept a firm grip on Leslie's arm as she guided the inebriated woman through the shopper traffic. When they were within sight of the Butterfly Salon, Tanya subtly stabbed Leslie with a Tear Duct containing a serum that would make the drunken woman a little more compliant. "Ow!" Leslie cried out. "Ffffuckin' bees!" These were the woman's last words before she lapsed into a more trance-like state. "When we get to the Salon, you will do whatever you are told to do," Tanya instructed. "Obey all instructions without question." "Hello, Madame Primrose." One of the attractive-looking, pink-clad employees flashed a smile as she spoke. "Is this the woman you called about? 'Tanya' nodded. "Yes. This is Leslie Betancourt. Sorry for the liquor stink, but this one's a heavy drinker. We just came from a bar." A pair of employees assisted the muttering Leslie as they guided her towards a dressing room stall. They knew she was too drunk to remove her own clothes. Leslie, still under the effects of the Tear Duct, just stared forward as her clothes were removed. "Pretty radical procedure you're putting her through, Madame Primrose," the attendant observed as she and 'Tanya' watched the ladies place the drunken woman into a dermis machine. "She and her husband were gonna drain their own parents dry of their money, Donna," the dark-haired woman responded. "They're getting what they deserve." "Where's the husband?" Donna curiously asked as the lid came down on the dermis machine Leslie had been placed into. A menacing smile was now on the lips of 'Tanya' as her gaze lingered on the dermis machine. "We fed her to Iris Fielding." Her eyes turned to Donna. "Make a real show of Leslie's ejection. I'm done with her." "Yes, Madame Primrose," Donna replied as 'Tanya' casually walked back out of the Butterfly Salon, effectively leaving Leslie Betancourt to her fate. Tossing the remnants of a fake ID card she had torn up into a trash bin, the dark-haired woman continued her journey back to the parking lot. As her time as 'Tanya' was now over, it was time for Stella Primrose to get back to other, more personal and desirable matters. Perhaps she could ruin another rotten person's life. VI: Let Me Hear Your Body Talk A large stack of black metal weights clanged down as Harvey Betancourt finished a bench-press set. It was more weights than he ever thought he could lift at once. No pain, no gain, soldier! Harvey told himself, remembering the voice of the Drill Sergeant who routinely shouted to his recruits during basic training. He remembered these very words shouted to a young recruit who talked tough before training began, but somehow regressed when he was shouted down. For all the workouts he had been putting himself through, Harvey could feel that he was getting stronger again. The heavy lifting he had been doing had effectively cast aside his worries of being too frail to manage such a feat. His youth had returned, and he was beginning to love it all over again. His peripheral vision, however, caught sight of a female visitor. The platinum blond hair was unmistakable, and when Harvey settled the weight bar on the latch, he turned his head to confirm that it was indeed the flirtatious cougar called Rosa. She had a tight, flowery blue and white lycra outfit on, and a white towel was draped against the back of her neck. "You want me to spot you, soldier?" Rosa asked, grinning. Harvey smirked as he lifted his upper body off of the plastic-covered black cushion, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. "I hope you haven't forgotten that I'm a happily married man, Rosa." "Ohh, I know, and your wife's becoming quite a stunner, too," Rosa remarked, sitting at an adjoining bench press back cushion. "I'm starting to get jealous of her." Harvey shared a chuckle with his visitor as he picked up the towel that he brought with him and began wiping at his face. A thought then occurred to him. Something that had been on the back of his mind. "Say, Rosa..." Harvey began. "...y' know who runs this place? I mean, the whole retirement home?" Rosa nodded. "That would be Maude. Why? Did yooou...want to meet her? She's quite the cougar herself, you know." "Yeah, we've already met her," Harvey answered. "But...does she run everything in this place? Or does she have, like, sub-bosses?" "Why?" Rosa asked. "Did you want to work here?" "Well...kind of," Harvey responded. "I guess...I was wondering if there was anyone in this place that's responsible for..." He gestured to the workout machines surrounding them both. "...all this." "What, the gym??" Rosa's left eyebrow raised up. "Hmmm...I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to ask, Harvey. You want me to see if I can arrange a meeting? Maude and I are buddies, after all." "Not if you're gonna suggest something in return that's gonna challenge my wedding vows," Harvey warily replied. Rosa giggled loudly at this. "Awww, you look so cute when you're on the defense. Don't you worry, though. I'll see if I can arrange the meeting." She punctuated this vow with a salute. She then leaned forward with a more puzzled look on her face. "Why, though? If you don't mind my asking." Harvey had to heave a concerned sigh. "Something about this place stinks, Rosa. Even Glennie's picked up on it. I'm not even sure I should be telling you this, but..." Rosa raised a hand so she could interject. "Then don't, because I wouldn't want to see you get into trouble over it." She lowered her hand before she continued, her voice a little more discreet. "I think you should just go with it, Harvey. Okay...it's not every day an 80 year old takes a bath one day, and then starts looking like she's in her thirties, but honestly...would you really want to go back to being the way you were? Frail? Dependent on a walker, or a cane, just to move around? Fighting arthritis? Stockpiling on Geritol?" "No, no, but...I don't want these people working here to go coddling all over me. I hate that!" Harvey irritably responded. "Barry drives me nuts with all those plastic smiles of his, and all that 'you're such a war hero' nonsense. It's so...so patronizing!" Rosa nodded, understanding where Harvey was coming from. "As if he still thinks you're a doddering old man with a simple mind." "Well, I'm far beyond that now," Harvey griped. "You'd think he'd get the hint when he saw me walking around without a cane!" Smiling, Rosa rose to her feet and placed a hand on Harvey's bare shoulder. "You let Auntie Rosa see what she can arrange, honey. Maybe I can do...a little better than to just suggest that you manage this gym. Maybe I can, you know, seduce a few secrets out of Barry. You'd be surprised to see the kind of subterfuge a body like this is capable of." With a wink and the flash of a fetching smile, Rosa turned around and distanced herself from Harvey, making a show of her ability to sway her hips attractively. Harvey couldn't help but stare as she made her exit. He then shook his head. "What a dish," he mused aloud. Rising back to his feet, Harvey began his routine calisthenics. * * * When Leslie Betancourt opened her eyes once more, she felt...weak. Drained. The lid of the dermis machine had been opened up, and the light from the interiors of the room the machine was in compelled her eyelids to open as well. But everything in that moment felt...wrong. Very wrong. Her gut was also churning, and she felt a bout of nausea as she attempted to raise her upper body. It proved surprisingly difficult to do so! Two attendants...Donna and Suki...fixed unpleasant gazes upon Leslie as her now withered and wrinkled form struggled to sit upright. Her hair was a stringy, uncombed semblance of the unnatural blond head of hair she used to have. When she turned her head to regard the attendants, she frowned in her confusion. "Wh...what're y..." Leslie had to stop. Her voice sounded radically different. Much older. It sounded a lot more bitter, too. "...what're y' lookin' at me like that for?" The taller of the two attendants, Suki, stepped up close to Leslie. "Thought you could just help yourself to one of our beds, Miss...whoever-you-are? Were you planning on paying for the time you've just spent in there?" Logically, the now decrepit-looking Leslie was aghast. "What're you talkin' about??" She angrily blubbered. "I was brought here!! Tanya! Tanya brought me! Ask her!" She then looked down at her wrinkled, veiny hands. "What th...what th' ffffuck happened t' me??" Donna had a tablet with her, and she used it to check her account records, touching the clear surface and dragging the tip of her finger up, down, and from side to side as she sifted through onscreen records. After a couple of minutes, she looked back up at Leslie, shaking her head. "We don't have any 'Tanya' in our records, Miss," Donna reported. Leslie craned her head forward, speaking right in Suki's scowling face. "What're y' talkin' about??" Suki's response...one of revulsion to the horrid scent Leslie was emitting, which was in evidence of her rancid liquor breath...was immediate. "Oh, great. Not just a derelict, but a barfly." Pulling her out of the dermis bed, she hurried her into the dressing room. "Your breath smells horrific, and I can't have you stinking up the salon like this. Get dressed, and get the hell out." "Wh-what th' fffuuuck??" Leslie writhed in Suki's grip as she staggered along. "Get the hell offa me!!" Ignoring her protests, Suki shoved the withered woman into a dressing room, where a pile of clothes...all of it old and raggy...awaited her. Leslie sifted around the pile of clothes...and around the stalls...for anything that remotely resembled the clothes she remembered wearing when she came in. There was no sign of them! With shaking, skinny arms, Leslie began slipping on the decrepit clothes that had been left for her. Surprisingly, they were a perfect fit for her body type. But they also made her look...and smell...like a homeless woman. Once she bundled herself up in the ugly garments, she stepped out of the dressing room... ...and saw that two imposing-looking female mall guards were waiting for her. They quickly grabbed her and dragged her out of the dressing room, through the lobby, and even all the way through the mall despite her angry, incoherent protests. They had a firm grip on her arms, practically lifting her off the floor as they moved. Shoppers they passed wrinkled their faces in disgust, catching the horrible scent she was emitting. Once they were at the Mall entrance, they literally threw her to the ground. She landed hard, tumbled for a bit, and then stopped. The guards could hear her panting as they turned and walked back to the mall, having dealt with their freeloading guest. When Leslie was barely able to get back to her feet, she staggered a bit, wincing at the sharp throbbing in the muscles that were impacted by her being tossed to the ground. Still completely mystified, she saw that two idle female guards outside the mall had their eyes on her. "You...you sons a'...you bitches," Leslie angrily spat. "Whadiyoudot'me?? Where's my...where's my fuckin' clothes??" The guards just ignored her, although their eyes remained upon her warily. Once again, Leslie brought up her shaking hands. The skin practically wrapped around the bones, and liver spots could be seen on the skin. Her hands then went to her head as she ran her bony digits through the unkempt mass of thin gray strands on her head. The old woman began to cry now as she looked back up to the guards. "Wha'd you...wh..." She staggered around, holding out her hands mournfully. Her voice cracked as she spoke. "...whyyyyyyyyou...!" One of the guards finally spoke out. "Go on, get out of here! Don't come back!" she angrily rebuked. A lingering buzz in her head had the effect of compelling her to comply with this retort. Maintaining a confused expression, she shrugged after a moment and began to stagger away from Rubie's Mall. She began to mutter as she walked. "Where mm' huss-band? Where mmmm' son??" She directed her slurred complaints to any in her vicinity and any that were walking past her. "Dat fuckin' money is ours!!" She nastily growled to a passing couple, who hurried away from her without saying a word. "It was so...fuckin'...perfect. We were gonna be rich!!" Leslie openly protested, to no one in particular. Her expression then melted to a more sorrowful one. "Look what they done t' me...." She once again stared at her hands as she haphazardly wandered down a sidewalk. "...where...where my...mmmy ssssssssooooonnn??" Her only response was from random citizens who either shook their heads shamefully, or just plain ignored her. Leslie continued to aimlessly drag her feet wherever they could take her. With nowhere else to go, no money, no ID card, and nothing other than the clothes she had been given, all she could do was to begin wandering all over the city of Bullchester, and always lamenting over her situation to anyone around her, whether they wanted to listen or not. The one part about her ramblings and ravings that they could not understand at all was why she was referring to the city itself... ...the whole city... ...as a trap. * * * "Come in, Sergeant," Olivia amusedly remarked as she sat at her office desk. When the office door opened, in stepped the large, broad-chested black ex-Marine that had...by virtue of thoroughly-laid conditioning...captured the interest of Tobias Betancourt. Jacob Simonson...who was wearing a blank, tight white T-Shirt that stretched against his well-toned muscles...stepped in with a disturbed expression on his face, and settled himself into the seat across from Olivia's desk. The radically-shaped woman placed her elbows on the desk, and cradled her chin on the knitted fingers of her hands. A playful look was on her face. "How can I help you today, soldier boy?" Frowning, Jake leaned forward. "You have anythin' t' do with me losin' my job at the docks?" Olivia had to feign sympathy. "Awww, really? That does sound surprising. How long had you been working there? Six years? Seven?" "Nine," Jake corrected. "And I remember you comin' t' me once before, at that mall nightclub, about comin' t' work for you." "We had a nice, big chat about that, didn't we, Sergeant?" Olivia playfully responded. "What if I told you we could offer you more than just a bi-weekly paycheck giving you more money than you made when you were a dockworker?" Jake remained surly. He leveled an index finger towards the radically- shaped, provocatively-dressed woman. "Did you have anythin' t' do with them layin' me off?" "Ooooh, what a perfectly horny accusation, Sergeant," Olivia cooed, still grinning fetchingly. "Will you STOP calling me that??" Jake suddenly growled. "I ain't with the damn Marines anymore!" Olivia giggled at this. "Sorry...bad habit. Anyway...why are you so resistant? It's more money, and I'm even offering you a special little...bonus." Jake had to frown in confusion upon hearing this. "What, like a cash bonus?" Olivia shook her head. "Something a lot more...provocative. Her name is Coco." Jake's eyes widened. "You're offerin' me a girl?? I ain't no damn pimp!" "I would never want you to be such a thing, Jacob," Olivia assured, raising a hand in restraint. "This is a girl who has had a run of bad luck. Someone who was convinced to do bad things by her own parents. She was able to escape that miserable existence and now she's working here. She needs a friend, and knowing the kind of...moral fiber you have, not to mention the kind of physique she's very much attracted to, I'd say your presence would be medicinal." There was nothing about Olivia's explanation that sounded deceptive or even false to Jake as he thought on her words. "If it turns out that you're not interested in Coco, it's not a deal breaker," Olivia noted. "I won't terminate you over it. Hell, I wouldn't care if all you did was to talk to one another on a regular basis, but I do need a bouncer here. I think you'd be perfect." "And if I wasn't," Jake wryly added. "I'd still have a job at the docks." Olivia just shrugged amusedly. "Perhaps." After a long moment of quiet thought, Jake let out a long, resigned sigh as he rubbed at his eyes. "Aw, hell. When do I start?" Olivia grinned in her self-satisfaction. "Next weekend." "An' when do I get t' meet this...Coco?" Jake warily asked. Olivia's expression did not change. "Next weekend. For now, you can go to our security office and pick out a suit that's your size. I'll expect to see you come back wearing it on your first night as our bouncer." Jake still looked unhappy as he brought an index finger out towards her again. "I had friends on that dockyard. Good friends." Olivia shrugged. "Invite them down. Give me names, and I'll give 'em a little...discount. I never said you couldn't invite friends down here. They may even enjoy a place like ours." Jake just snorted in derision as he rose up out of his seat. He couldn't think of a way to get back at Olivia for apparently arranging his being laid off, but he figured that while she was Olivia's employee, he would find a way, somehow. For the moment, however, he knew he needed to play whatever little game she was apparently engineering. "See you next weekend, soldier boy," Olivia purred as the well-built ex- soldier turned to the door of the office and headed towards it. He was already curious as to what kind of a girl this "Coco" would turn out to be. * * * Buried inside his bed back home, Tobias Betancourt was little more than a large lump, completely concealed from the outside world given the way his bedsheet, and the thick comforter on top of it, was covering him. An arm burst forth from the top edge of the bedsheets, which pushed them down, effectively exposing Tobias to the daylight. He had been lying on his side, and his eyes were still closed as he began to moan effeminately, and stir from his sleep, mostly recovered from the 'training' of the previous day. A part of him wanted to feel all those new sensations again. The feel of a dildo inside him, being pushed in and out. Of a moist, veiny cock sliding against his lips. His eyes were mere slits as he moved his bare, naked body to the left until he was flat on his back. He then raised his upper body to a sitting position. His eyes widened when he looked down, seeing the larger mammaries on his own chest jiggle a bit, the radically fleshy mounds firm and fetchingly- shaped. It also occurred to him, in that moment, that he felt as if he had padding on his posterior for some reason. The last time he had gone to bed, it was a minor thing. This morning, the feeling at his butt was much more pronounced. His hair also felt odd, and as his conscious senses returned, he remembered that Mistress Emily had rubbed some kind of formula into his hair which had a strong, spicy scent. She massaged the stuff in as he was eagerly fellating a latex dildo. Most of the other memories of the 'training' he had been through were more or less lost in the wave of warmth that had consumed his senses while he remained at Mistresses. Slipping off of the bed, and getting onto his bare feet, proved to be another unique experience. His whole body equilibrium now felt radically different. There was a significantly weighty feeling at his chest and his ass. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was now amazingly curvy. The feeling was so radical that he nearly stumbled to the ground. In fact, he needed a moment to get his balance as the feelings were so suddenly alien to him. His chest was clearly bigger, and not at all saggy. He was certainly reminded of the most attractively curvaceous of women that he had seen in porn mags when he looked down at himself. He remembered Madame Olivia and Mistress Emily telling him that he would develop in this way, but he had no idea he would grow such radical, fleshy dimensions overnight! After moving forward a couple of steps, still staring down at himself in disbelief, his hands instinctively went to his chest. Groping and caressing at these fleshy mammaries, he began panting with the luxurious sensations that went with them. Goddess... He observed to himself as he continued to play with his breasts. ...these are MINE?? His next stop was a mirror, and he was still groping at his boobs as he stepped over to see his reflection. His hands, however, went to his hair when he saw what it currently looked like. The texture was radically different now. It was perpetually moist, as well. It was the kind of hair that one would typically expect to see on a black woman. His hair had also been arranged into a kind of bob hairstyle, with a perfect and visible part in the center. His face looked significantly more feminine as well. It had a softer appearance now. The visage staring back at him did not look male at all. An urge hit him as he opened the drawer where he knew he had placed his makeup materials, and he picked up the implements that he knew enough about to use. Lipstick, eyeshadow, mascara, blush. Those were simple enough. It was enough, he felt, to make his face look pretty enough. Satisfied with his efforts, he placed the makeup implements back in the drawer. He picked up the brush on his dresser next, brushing back his oddly- textured head of hair until it had a slicked-back appearance. He then pulled open a drawer and grabbed the first outfit that caught his eye. The outfit in question, however, looked small. Too small for his feminine curves, it seemed, but its crimson color looked very inviting. It was also the kind of dress one needed to step into, and then pull up and over the body. It would then be necessary to secure the dress to his jiggly body with a zipper in the back. His concern was that the dress would rip as he pulled it up, but it proved surprisingly capable of handling the strain. Tobias was able to pull it up until it was seated perfectly over his radically curvy frame. It was just a matter of pulling up the zipper behind him, and that was where he hit a roadblock. Because he couldn't reach it! Sighing out loudly in his frustration, he remembered hearing a bit of activity outside. Sweeping sounds. He remembered the last time he saw his father in that moment, but he was dressed differently. He had a feminine maid outfit on. Was he still...? Inescapable curiosity compelled Tobias to open the door to his room as he heard the clack of heeled shoes begin to descend the staircase. Sure enough, there was a person in a maid outfit going down to the first floor. "Dad?" The maid stopped, and then turned around. A cordial smile was on this person's painted lips. It was definitely his father, despite the feminine makeup on his face. "May I help you?" Arnold chimed, in an oddly feminine voice. This maid didn't sound like his father at all. There were so many questions Tobias wanted to ask in that moment, but...for whatever reason, he could not get the words out! The words just seemed to catch in his throat. The maid looked confused as he continued to stare at his now feminine- looking son. He was just staring at Arnold, as if he had suddenly forgotten what he wanted to ask. Arnold then noticed how loose Tobias's dress looked, and her confusion gave way to a knowing smile...and a slight, girlish giggle...as he closed the distance between him and his son. The maid stepped up very close to Tobias, and his son was able to smell a very sweet-scented perfume as Arnold turned him around, and then pulled up the zipper of the sexy outfit. "You'd better get to work," Arnold's softer voice reminded. "You don't want to be late for your debut at Mistresses, do you?" After giving his son a sweet peck on his blush-adorned cheek, Arnold resumed his descent down the stairs. Tobias's eyes widened as he felt the tightness of the outfit once the zipper was up. It hugged his curves like a glove, with no visible loose spots or creases. He slowly went back into his room, and stepped back in front of his room's full-length mirror. He had to stare at how alluring and attractive the one-piece crimson outfit looked on his body. His hands ran over his own body's feminine curves once again. The opening at the cleavage area showed how fetchingly the tight dress was crushing his breasts together. The rest of the outfit hugged tightly against him like a second skin. The sight of his own curvy, jiggling body was getting him very horny as he continued to pose in front of the full-length mirror. This is me. I can't believe this is me. He told himself. My body looks sooo fucking HOT! Tobias then heard a knock on the door. Curious, he pulled it open... ...and his mildly-decorated eyes fell on a very busty blonde with long, white hair and a radically shapely body. Her breasts were huge, but her face...sexy as it was...had a hint of wickedness to it as she looked upon Arnold's effeminately-shaped son. She didn't look all that impressed with Tobias's appearance, if her expression was any indication. "I think that's the worst makeup job I've ever seen," the blond woman admitted. The expression on this woman's face made Tobias look nervous, especially since he quite frankly did not know who this woman was. "Uhh...who...who are you?" One of the woman's thin eyebrows raised up, but then she seemed to be reminded of something. "Oh, that's right. We haven't actually met, have we, Coco dear? My name is Iris Fielding, but you will call me Miss Fielding, or Miss Iris. I actually prefer the latter, Coco." Upon hearing the name Olivia had given him, Tobias felt his head get fuzzy. A hand went to his head as he began to waver where he stood. It took a full minute for him to try and regain focus. "Is there something wrong, Coco dear?" Iris asked, the name provoking more of a reaction in Arnold's son once again. "Isn't that your name?" The busty blonde stepped over to whisper directly into the feminized young man's ear. "Cocooooo. Yeeeees. That's your name. Because you're a girl. A sexy little slut." Her arms surrounded him now as the mental programming began to sink its claws deeply into Tobias's brain, injecting the poison that would forever alter his... ...her... ...her mind. "You're not a man...you're not a boy..." Iris cooed. "...are you?" Tobias...or was it Coco?...appeared to be locked in a state of confusion as his mind continued to waver. No answer emerged from the lips of the confused, feminized man. "If you were a man...a real man..." Iris's hands went to the former boy's breasts, fondling them. "...you wouldn't have these, would you, Coco?" Her lips then moved close to her subject's ear. "Tell Miss Iris your name," She purred. "T-To..." he nervously began. "...Toco...my...my...Toci...?" His sinful id seemed to bark an order unto his mind. Answer your Mistress! Iris smirked. "That...doesn't...sound...right." She fixed an intimidating frown upon the confused former boy. Yes... Coco's sensible id now seemed to agree, and that was when Tobias Betancourt was truly broken in. ...I...I'm Coco. I'm a girl. A...a really HOT girl... "Coco," she then corrected herself. "Yes...I'm Coco. Coco...is my name." "Really?" Iris's eyebrow raised once again. "That's funny. I thought your name was...Tobias?" Coco shook her head. "No. That's a guy's name. I...I'm not a..." She seemed to hesitate. "...I'm not a...a..." Iris giggled. "Go downstairs and get in that cab I called for you. He's waiting outside. Don't make me waste anymore money on you trying to figure out who you are." "Huh? O-oh...right..." With nervous steps, Coco emerged from her masculine-looking room and carefully descended the staircase, hoping she wouldn't stumble on her heels. Fortunately, she was able to make it down the steps with only a slight stumble, midway down the steps, to show for it. Arnold was there to dutifully open the door for her, and the maid did so flashing a sweet smile as Coco passed the house's newest domestic servant. The driver looked like a fairly handsome young stud in Coco's eyes, but seeing as how Coco's mind was still in the midst of developing into her persona, she didn't say a word as she stepped into the passenger side of the rideshare vehicle. The driver, however, didn't hide his feelings. "Nice rack, babe." As Coco still seemed to be wrestling with his losing battle to try and remember who she really was, she didn't answer. Her hands went to her crotch, where she indeed felt a bulge. It was a very small one, but it was also rock hard and erect. "Gotta come by sometime an' check out dat place," The driver mused as he kept the vehicle going. "See jus' how real dose titties are." Coco continued to ignore him, so he kept quiet until the car settled in front of her destination. "Have a nice day, titties." The driver waved a hand, with a lecherous smile on his face, as he spoke. Coco, however, just stepped out of the car, nearly stumbling on a heel and causing her breasts to jiggle a bit in her tight outfit. She clacked the rest of the way over to the door, where she just pulled it open and entered the racy inner environment. The scents of perfume typical to a strip club environment met her nose as Coco walked in. The business was in full swing. As Coco didn't know anyone too well, she just made her way to the Manager's Office to check in... ...but a vision of pure erotic beauty, with body dimensions very similar to Coco's, pushed open the door to the Dressing Room. Although the face was so much more attractive than the last time she saw her, it was nevertheless unmistakable, seeing as how this jiggly and wildly attractive woman...with a very nicely-teased head of red hair, and a tight latex dress in blue and silver highlights...used to be Coco's card gaming buddy back when they were both still male. It was Alexis. Her striking, ocean blue eyes settled on Coco immediately, and she sauntered forward slowly as they stared upon each other. Alexis had her eyes on Coco's face, while Coco's own eyes were fixated on just about everything Alexis had become. She had a somewhat disappointed look on her face as she closed the distance between her and Coco. "What kind of a shitty makeup job is that, honey?" Alexis asked, her voice attractively sultry, and the farthest cry from the male voice she used to have. "Umm...w-well, I..." Coco looked down in embarrassment, blushing. "...I don't...don't know much about makeup..." "Mmmmm...well." The digits of her slim hand, topped with French-cut fingernails that were painted a sparkling silver, closed around one arm as she began to pull Coco into the Dressing Room. "We'll just have to fix that, won't we?" Once Coco was in a chair in front of a makeup table, the sultry smile Alexis had on her face remained a constant as she began to work her makeup magic on Coco's face. She was very responsive to whatever instructions Alexis gave her in terms of closing her eyes, turning her head, and puckering her lips, among other little requests the wildly attractive Alexis made while she worked on her friend. A new layer of foundatio covered Coco's face as the hands of her childhood friend rubbed it on. An eyeliner pencil then drew visible lines at the edges of her eyes, and the lines were drawn about an inch or so beyond the outer corners of Coco's eyes, giving them an Egyptian look. Her thin brows were accentuated with a black pencil, and an application of eyeshadow followed, giving her eyelids a sultry color all their own. Alexis then went over Coco's eyelashes with a mascara brush, making them look a little more prominent, after which Alexis applied a rose-colored blush to her friend's cheeks. She also added a small, but noticeable black beauty mark to an area just above the left side of Coco's lips. Lipstick was brought out next, and Alexis covered Coco's lips with a moist, cherry red color. The makeup job Alexis had given her made Coco appear sinfully attractive. By virtue of the makeup alone, she had become a very alluring Egyptian princess, in fact...or at least, a strip club dancer's semblance of one. The red-haired woman stepped back to observe her own handiwork for a couple of minutes, after which she made one observation. "You need to grow your hair out, or get extensions," Alexis critiqued. "You'd rock the braided-hair look...but what we have here should be fine, since you're new." Coco nervously nodded. "O-Okay..." Alexis then spent a couple of minutes instructing Coco in the makeup procedures she had applied, giving her gaming friend a basic understanding of feminine makeup applications, albeit applied in the most erotic and attention-grabbing manner possible. "If you and I will be working here for the foreseeable future, you can always call on me to touch up your makeup...or improve it." Coco's eyes, however, had traveled down to the cleavage on Alexis's dress. Her friend caught the Egyptian-eyed she-male staring at her developed assets, and a lascivious grin formed on her mouth. "Like what'cha see, honey?" The former boy slowly stepped up to Coco as she placed her hands beneath her fleshy mammaries, rubbing them together fetchingly as her tongue ran around her ruby red lips. "Y'know...yours aren't bad, either. They're just as...jiggly...as mine," Alexis giggled infectiously as she wrapped her arms around her lifelong friend, crushing her breasts against Coco's as they pressed their foreheads together. Coco's eyes instinctively narrowed to slits. Whatever perfume she was wearing, Alexis smelled so delectable being as close as she was. It was getting Coco excited. "We oughta share a pole together, you an' me," Alexis cooed, still grinning suggestively. "See the looks on their faces as we fuck with their heads." She then hooked an arm around Coco's, and they both walked side by side towards the doorway to the Dressing Room, stepping out of its brightly- lit interiors and into the more sensual colors shining around the main area of Mistresses. As men watched, the hot dancers performed for them as suggestively as they could. Some eyes were diverted to the appearance of Coco and Alexis, causing the latter to grin as she led her Egyptian-eyed friend through to the Manager's Office, where they both went in. Olivia's head lifted up from the papers on her desk as the two former boys approached the desk. Nearby, Emily Braithwaite leaned against a side wall, her own gaze falling upon Coco and Alexis as they entered. "It's your first working day here, so I'll forgive you for coming in a little late," Olivia began as she rose from her chair behind the desk. She then stepped out from behind it and approached her two new girls. "Well, look at you both. The accessory to the cruel larceny of an old couple..." She gestured to a now ashamed-looking Coco, and then gestured to Alexis. "...and the freeloader who always finds new ways to dodge paying board money to his mother. Weren't you both the pair of naughty boys," She began to slowly pace around them as she spoke. "We can't quite call you boys anymore, can we? Now you're both my bitches, and I'm gonna make sure you both get fucked six ways from Sunday before you've finished your first month as two of my sluts." This made Alexis giggle. "Bring 'em on. I'm reeeal hungry." Grinning, Olivia stepped behind Alexis, and then turned her to face the very nervous-looking Coco. The Madame's eyes...and those of Alexis...were on the Egyptian-eyed she-male as she spoke. "How hungry do you think this one is, little bitch?" Olivia suggestively asked. "You've known this one all your life, haven't you? You used to play that silly card game together. Behemongers, right? I can think of better games for you both to play, and you wouldn't need any cards. Just your sexy, busty little selves." "I was just saying how we should both share a pole together," Alexis observed. "Oooooh...that sounds hhhot, doesn't it, Coco dear?" The Egyptian-eyed she-male jumped in surprise upon hearing Emily's voice coo in her right ear. "Like you're both worshipping a big, hard, erect cock between your two sexy bodies..." She wrapped her arms around Coco's waist from behind. "...both of you covered with lube so you can slide yourselves against it...and each other...doesn't that sound so...wild?" Yes it does. Coco's sinful id confirmed. Admit it. Just fucking admit it. Coco nodded. "Y-yes...yes it...it does..." As they both spoke, Olivia's gaze upon the former Tobias Betancourt now looked disapproving. "She needs to do something with that hair, though." "I was just saying that, Madame Olivia!" Alexis chimed. "She needs extensions until she can properly grow it out." "Mm-hmmm," Olivia nodded in agreement. "That should help her attract the kind of clientele I know she likes." "Clientele with all the big...black...chocolate cock I know she crrraaaaves," Emily purred into Coco's ear, the words coming out in an alluringly slow manner. Such a suggestion...which Emily herself had ironically implanted Tobias with in the first place before his descent into femininity began...immediately provoked a stir of excitement within the she-male Tobias had become. "What do we do with her tonight, Madame Olivia?" Alexis asked, keeping her eyes on Coco. "Her hair might not be all that great, but look at how tightly that dress is hugging her." "Mmmm, yes," Olivia nodded. "Take her out with you. Show her the ropes. Introduce her to the girls...and whatever regulars are out there." "Some of those regulars are black," Emily reminded Coco, who was still in her arms. "I bet they have hard, veiny cocks on them, too." "You follow your friend's lead, Coco," Olivia ordered, releasing Alexis. "As far as tonight is concerned, consider yourself attached to her hip." "Yes, Madame Olivia," Coco replied as Emily released her. She then felt a sting at her large posterior once the big-lipped woman struck it with an open hand. "You fuck up tonight, and I'm taking all of your earnings," Emily then warned, glaring to the Egyptian-eyed she-male. "All of it. Even the tips." "Yes, Mistress Braithwaite," Coco answered as Alexis once again hooked her arm. They then walked out of the office together. "She's always so nasty," Coco noted as they stepped out into the main area. "Who, Emily?" Alexis made a dismissive gesture. "She's like that with everyone. Don't take it personally. Ever since she became Mr. Moncur's bitch. Just don't pick a fight with her. That's a surefire way to get on her shit list for life." "She...she's the reason..." Coco woefully looked down at herself. "...I'm like this now." "Don't knock it, sweetie," Alexis countered, lightly scraping a french- cut index fingernail against the edge of Coco's chin. "All you need is longer hair, in beaded braids, and I think you'll be turning heads. Not that this body of yours, straining that tight dress, isn't working its magic already as it is. We've got guys staring in our direction as we speak," She playfully stepped in front of her feminized friend. "They probably want us to do a three-way," she flirtatiously added. Coco tilted her head to the side curiously. "Alexis...who...who made you this way? You're so much...so much different than I remember you." The red-haired sexpot gestured to a cushioned sitting area, and when Coco settled into the indicated space, Alexis sat right next to her, practically snuggling up against her she-male friend. "Well...it was Mom, at first, but...I met someone. Someone she works with at Loris. What was her name...? DESTINY. That's right. Destiny Pendleton. She really woke me up to the kind of power I could have over men with a body like this," She rubbed her hands over her own radical curves as she spoke, and she still had that same hungry grin on her face. "She showed me how to play with my big, fat tits when I know others are looking. Make 'em wanna touch 'em and squeeze 'em themselves," She demonstrated this in a manner that easily stimulated Coco. Alexis punctuated this with moans and pants as she rubbed her partially-exposed mammaries. "Wouldn't that make you wanna fuck me, Coco?" She then cooed. "But...do you...do you still have..." Coco gestured to her groin area, and the small bulge representing her diminished manhood. Alexis was still panting lustily as she nodded her head. "Yeah. Mom told me that it's to remind me what a bad boy I was." She turned to Coco with what seemed to be a thoughtful expression. "I'm so bad, Coco. I'm as bad as those guys watching us. I deserve this...and I...and I fucking love it. I owe Destiny soooo much for showing me how much fun I can have fuckin' with a guy's head. She was an ex-stripper, too. Lived in San Diego before she moved to Bullchester. She really knows how to take charge, too. She could crush a guy's dreams just as easily as she could grant them. Showed me how to pleasure men and women. Taught me all of her tricks. She also taught me her stripper's credo, which I think you should remember as well while you're working here." Coco tilted her head curiously, awaiting the credo. Alexis just giggled. "It's just something you need to remember whenever you're with a guy. Just think to yourself, 'I know you want it, but you can't have it'. Well...unless they pay for it, of course." Coco looked distraught now as she looked away helplessly. "Ohhh, I don't know...I don't know...." "Hey, hey..." Alexis turned Coco to face her. "...just stick with me tonight. You'll be fine." She then rose to her feet and pulled Coco out of her seat. "Hey...wanna try dancing on a pole? May help you ease your worries." She was already pulling her nervous shemale friend towards an open pole, but Coco was largely hesitant. "Alexis...I...I don't...I don't think..." "The way you're wearing that dress, you're made for pole dancing, honey," Once they arrived at the sturdy, chrome-plated pole, she gestured for Coco to lean against a wall. "Here...I'll do this song, you do the next." The song in question was "Warped" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. As Coco watched, Alexis shimmied her shoulders as she rocked her upper body back and forth against the pole, keeping herself steady with the strength of her legs that were wrapped around the pole. When the song broke into its more energetic portion, Alexis went wild, spinning and writhing around the stationary object. Coco never imagined, in her wildest dreams, that she would be seeing her lifelong friend gyrating and practically making love to a dance pole. Her loins particularly stirred whenever Alexis slowly ran her tongue up along the pole, and when she pulled her breasts out of their confinement to rub her mammaries along both sides of the moist, chrome-plated fixture, as if she were stimulating a cock between those large breasts. In the song's final section, Alexis came off the pole and she sauntered slowly towards Coco. She then turned around and rubbed her bubble butt against her shemale friend's groin, practically twerking against it in tempo with the tune. When the song was over, Alexis turned to face her friend. "Laszlo knows that's my favorite tune," she noted. "He's the DJ for our shift. You'd like him." "Is he a black man?" Alexis shook her head. "Latino...but he's a pretty boy. You'd like him," The next song that played was "Everybody's Free(To Feel Good)" by Rozalla, and as the song began, Alexis pulled her hesitant friend over to the pole. "Right! Your turn now." Coco practically went pale. "Wait...Alexis, I..." "Nope! No buts, no waits." She pointed to the waiting, chrome-plated fixture. "Get on that pole and show us what you can do," She stepped in close to make a suggestion. "Pretend the pole is a big, fat black cock." Coco's head turned to the pole, and she thought of the big, black man...the one called Jake...who had so thoughtfully given her a ride home back when she was Tobias. Remembering the moves she had seen Alexis do, Coco tried to emulate them to the best of her abilities, trying to look as sexy as she could. The performance certainly looked like the kind of spectacle an amateur would be capable of, but she at least held to the tempo of the song as she spun around the pole. She then had the idea of humping against it, as if she were being screwed by a man...and this is what sent a few guys over to watch her. One of them had a $5 bill in his hand as he stared. Coco flashed a smile at this one, and remembered how Alexis licked around her lips provocatively. The ploy worked, and to her surprise, the man with the $5 bill stepped in and she allowed him to slip it between her breasts. "Thanks, honey," Coco chimed. With her confidence boosted, she continued to dance as provocatively as she could, and the $5 she had earned was joined by a few extra dollars from other guys. She ignored the provocative things that they were saying as she danced, and when the song was finally over, she received a bit of applause from the small audience she had earned for herself. Alexis was particularly elated. "WOOOOH! SHAKE it, bitch!" She cried out. Coco genuinely felt like she had won an award as she stepped away from the pole, after which a perm-haired woman named Twinkle took the pole as Alexis happily pulled her friend to the side. "See?? I KNEW you could do it!" Alexis remarked. "You started slow, but...you really worked into it! Nice job! How much did you get?" Coco collected the bills from her cleavage and counted them out. She saw that four of them were $10 bills! Aside from the $5, the rest were singles. "Wow...53 dollars?" Coco recounted them just to be sure. "For your first pole dance, that's a lot, honey," Alexis responded. "I only got about $20 for my first attempt at dancing here, but that was a rainy night anyway. Most of the clientele are big spenders, too. I should show you a few tricks which should earn you a LOT of money." "Oh, wait..." Coco suddenly remembered what she was told during her training. "...some of this goes to Madame Olivia, right?" "Yeah, she takes a cut," Alexis confirmed. "But that's only at the end of the night, and our shift is far from over, babe." Coco nodded in acknowledgement as she placed the bills back in her cleavage. "So...how do you feel, Coco-licious?" Alexis then asked, her flirtatious expression returned. After a moment of thought, Coco had to put it bluntly. "I...I feel like a slut." Alexis had to giggle at this. "Is that so bad, though?" Coco shook her head as if coming to peace with her situation. For the moment, at least. "I never said it was." * * * Olivia Tench had her eyes on the strategically-placed monitors for the security cameras that were all over the main area of Mistresses. She had taken a moment to observe Coco's first pole dance, watching every minute of it, and gauging the reactions she had earned for herself. Olivia smirked as she saw the reactions. That randy little slut trained you well, didn't she, Tobias? Friends to the end, indeed. Playing on the nearby flatscreen monitor, at the same time, was an old James Bond film called Goldfinger. Around the time Coco had finished her dance, the moment in which Bond discovers the Jill Masterson character not only dead, but covered from head to toe in gold paint was playing on the TV. Olivia paused the moment in which the body is shown on camera, and her eyes contemplatively went back and forth from the flatscreen TV to the monitor where Coco and Alexis were chatting. An idea formed in her mind, seeing as how it had been proven that the "skin suffocation" theory was a false one. Besides...her recent experience with Tamara Portnoy was evidence enough that a radical body paint job, from head to toe, would never kill anyone. Pulling out her smartphone, she looked up the makeup artist that she hired once before...Florian Buchholz...and tapped his number, waiting for the resultant trilling noise to stop. The line opened after two rings. "Hello, Florian. It's Olivia Tench." The Madame kept his eyes on the live images of Coco and Alexis as she spoke. "I have another radical idea for you to apply to two of my newest girls..." * * * Tamara - could you step into my office, please? Don't bother bringing your notepad with you. Upon acknowledging the private text from Mayoress Julia Stroud, Tamara Portnoy tapped a confirmation reply and then rose from her seat at the reception desk. As per the wishes of the Mayoress, her plus-sized secretary was dressed very provocatively in a tight, figure-hugging one-piece dress made of purple lycra. The dress had a collarpiece, and was backless, with a generous opening at the chest to expose her cleavage. The skirt portion stopped at the top of her upper thighs. Matching high heels were on her feet. She wore her long, golden blond hair in a fashionable updo. Naturally, the eyes of the men in the room followed the former boy as she went into the office of her boss, whose eyes also followed Tamara as she walked in, her heels clacking against the tiled floor of the office interior as she moved, and her feminine assets jiggling fetchingly. Julia always smiled insidiously whenever her eyes fell upon her secretary, and Tamara always seemed to have a timid smile of her own in return. Every working day, particularly at lunchtime, seemed like a game of cat and mouse between the Mayoress and her own busty, big-bottomed secretary. It was something Tamara had gotten used to as she continued to work for Julia. With a knowing smirk on her face, Julia raised her empty coffee mug, and Tamara hurried over to grab it, and walk over to Julia's coffee machine so she could grab the hot coffee pot there and refill the mug, which she carefully brought back over to the Mayoress. "Thank you, Tammy." The Mayoress took a quick sip of the coffee. "You can pour yourself a cup if you like." "No thank you, your honor," Tamara replied, after which Julia gestured to the seat in front of her desk, facing her. The plus-sized secretary jiggled over and settled her large posterior into the nicely-cushioned seat. "So...how can I help you, your honor?" Julia giggled. "You haven't missed a beat since you came back from your plastic surgery, have you?" Tamara shrugged, smiling. "I'm your secretary. I know my place." "Mmmm, you do, don't you?" Julia flirtatiously acknowledged. "Sometimes, I wonder if you do. I hope you're aware that I know everything about you, yes? I can tell when something came from you." The blond secretary nodded, blushing a bit. "Yes, your honor. I...I do." And, sure enough, she picked up a file printout that looked familiar to Tamara. "Then perhaps, you can explain this?" Tamara was able to summon up some confidence as she spoke. "That's a request from someone that I met at the Mall who wants to start up..." "A hairdresser business," Julia interjected. "Yes, Tammy. I can read. I'm not as airheaded as you look. But you say this is someone that you met at the Mall?" "Respectfully, your honor, there is more to her than you think," Tamara carefully replied. "She's not just another person who wants to start up a business. I...have a gut feeling about her. If I were the Mayoress, knowing the same kinds of people you and I both do, and...well...knowing which side we're both on, so to speak, I think it would be to our benefit to give her a place in the city so she could get this business started." Julia paused a moment to think on this. She knew Tamara was referring to their mutual ally, a Madame named Grace Lees. "Well...there is that newly-renovated space that used to belong to that old-school tailor. I've been figuring out what to do with it. That space has been collecting dust for a while, and...it's right near the border between the city limits and Barford..." She went quiet again, contemplating the situation a little more before her eyes returned to her secretary. "...I don't suppose that this woman, this..." She picked up the printed page and squinted at the name that was in small print. "...Glenda Hemingforth..." She lowered the page back down. "...has some kind of unique angle to her work? Otherwise, she's not going to get much in the way of business compared to the Butterfly Salon." Tamara nodded in full understanding, knowing exactly how to reply to this. "The Butterfly Salon, however, goes with more current trends. The other salons...even the one I had gone to downtown...do the same. Glenda, however, specializes in retro hairstylings. 1930s, '40s, '50s...she can even do '20s flapper styles. She told me she used to be an old lady, too. She was in her prime during the Second World War." This last part raised one of Julia's eyebrows. "Which means she's probably a Golden Sunshine tenant. Interesting..." Julia's tone then went discreet. "...but what makes you think that she won't get seduced into joining the Sisterhood?" "Because I warned her about them," Tamara answered. "Apparently, she and her husband have natural suspicions about what happened to them. Wondered why they aren't spreading such scientific advances to the world at large." "I could answer that question, if you like, Tammy," Julia quickly interjected, her expression wary. "It's okay. I know it's supposed to be an 'exclusive' thing," Tamara assured. "But it looks like she's willing to fight the Sisterhood's extremism in her own way. I wouldn't have pushed for her to try and get a business permit if she didn't have the potential to become an ally." Julia nodded. "And if she were seduced by the Sisterhood, she'd be working at the Butterfly Salon by now," A wry smile now formed upon the face of the Mayoress. "Very astute thinking, my little porntoy. I still find it so amusing that for someone with a bimbo's body, you have an exceptionally sharp mind." Tamara dipped her head a bit, feeling a little bashful. "I try, your honor." Nodding her head in agreement with her secretary's wisdom, Julia pulled out a pen and applied the necessary signatures to the printed form. She rose up from her desk and stepped over to Tamara to hand her the signed document. "You know where to send this, yes?" The plus-sized woman nodded, smiling cordially. "Of course, your honor." "Good. When we're done in here, send it," Julia then slowly stepped behind Tamara, and the secretary's cordial expression suddenly became a little more nervous. "And...there's one other reason why I called you in here." Tamara swallowed hard...and she then felt Julia's bare hands grasp at her bare shoulders, which sent the former boy's thoughts into a pliant jumble. It was the terrifyingly effective gift angels like Julia were capable of, and it was the one thing about the Mayoress that Tamara feared. Julia's spoken words then began to etch into Tamara's subconscious. "No more plastic surgery visits. I don't care what other jobs Lois Fryer suggests that you subject yourself to. Your days of constantly improving your looks are over, because I am satisfied with the way you look now. Unless your Mayoress dictates otherwise, you are going to deny any and all suggestions relating to plastic surgery that come from Lois Fryer." Tamara closed her eyes the entire time she was subjected to Julia's dreaded contact, breathing as calmly as she could despite shaky breaths. There was nothing she could do other than to let the moment play out. The words would settle unto her mind, and she would hold to every letter of it. It was only after Julia pulled her hands away that Tamara felt a wet spot at her panties. Goddess... Tamara thought to herself once her mind restored itself. ...was I CUMMING during all that? Was the act of being mentally reprogrammed by Julia getting me...excited?? "That will be all, Tamara." Julia moved back to her desk. "Pick up that paper you dropped, and get back to work." "Y-yes, your honor," She bent down to grab the document Julia handed her before rising back to her feet. "And Tamara..." Julia settled back in her seat, her eyes on her flatscreen computer monitor. "...this meeting didn't make you horny in any way, did it?" Tamara didn't know how to respond to this. "U-Uhhh..." "It's not a big deal, my little bimbo," the Mayoress assured. "I just wondered what could have happened during our meeting to have made you look so...flustered, all of a sudden. Like someone just rubbed your sensitive little clitty when you should have been paying attention to me." "I...I'm fine, your honor." "Get back to work then," Julia dismissively responded as her fingers began dancing around her keyboard. "Go flaunt your assets. Send that document, too." "Yes, your honor," Tamara acknowledged, still recovering from the unexpected conditioning as she left the office and settled back into her seat at the reception desk. She got the usual stares from the office workers that she knew to have lecherous minds. And, as usual, she ignored them, concentrating on getting what she needed to send out the signed documentation that would make Glenda Hemingforth a legitimate businesswoman, and a licensed hairdresser. She also hoped to be Glenda's first customer, since Tamara herself liked wartime retro hairstyles. * * * Golden Sunshine staff member Barry Miles headed down one of the hallways of the Retirement Home towards the room he had been asked by Geri to visit for a service call. As there were so many rooms and so many tenants, the room number he was to find didn't sound immediately familiar to him. Once Barry arrived at the room, he knocked on the door twice. "Service call," He announced. After a couple of minutes, the door opened... ...and a familiar-looking, busty platinum blonde with an alluring gaze, and wearing a partially transparent layer of provocative-looking black lingerie, looked back at him. "Good afternoon, Barry," She purred. "Oh! Uh...G-Good afternoon, Rosalind." Already, the young man looked flustered. "You needed a Service Call?" "Yes, I did," Rosa confirmed as she stepped closer to Barry. "Although I didn't need any kind of handyman service. I wanted you here, specifically, because I wanted to have a little talk with you." "Rosa...Service Calls are intended for room problems," Barry reminded, already looking wary over the way the woman was dressed. "Not fraternizing." "Oh, so...I'll just call the Front Desk, and tell them you deliberately refused a Service Call?" Rosa slyly noted. "You didn't have anything that needed to be serviced," Barry rationalized. "What about my curiosity? That needs servicing," Rosa countered. "Come on...just a few minutes. If there's a penalty to be paid for abusing the rules, I'll pay it." Rosa had another edge, however, in the event that Barry was going to be difficult. She knew the owner of the Golden Sunshine, and she knew Maude could make Barry's working life difficult. Such a perk kept Rosa confident as she challenged Barry's authority. But Barry sighed in resignation as he stepped into the room. "Okay. Five minutes. No more, no less." With a predatory grin, Rosa closed the door behind him, and quietly engaged the door's locking latch. "I was wondering if you knew who is essentially in charge of that gymnasium you've set up here? The one down on the first floor?" Barry shrugged. "Yeah. Me. I'm a certified physical trainer." He flexed a bicep for Rosa. "Can't you tell?" Rosa smirked. "Yeah, it's...obvious...from your physique, but... personally? I think it would be to your benefit if you had someone that was a little more 'old school' take the reins in there. I mean...this is a place full of old people, or rather, people who used to be old..." "No one else is certified, Rosa," Barry reasoned. "I'm the proverbial 'it' here. You've been to one of my exercise classes, haven't you? I remember you saying how young it made you feel afterwards." "Yes, well...that was 'old me'," Rosa countered. "This is 'new me', and I remember those classes. You were very condescending, demanding, and quite frankly, silly in the way you treated us." Barry looked astonished. "Conde...? I remember you saying you liked it!" "My mind wasn't as sharp as it is now, dear," Rosa responded. Barry frowned now. "Well, can you think of someone better? Someone who's certified??" A sly smile was now on Rosa's crimson-painted lips. "I can think of someone, sure...and I think that he could become certified. You may even like my suggestion, seeing as how you've been doting on him over his war exploits." "Wh...Harvey??" Barry looked surprised. "But he's..." "A soldier, and a survivor," Rosa quickly interjected. "A winner of the Purple Heart, and the Silver Star. Is that not certification enough?" "Officially? No!" Barry stubbornly answered. "Besides...Harvey's a tenant, not a staff member." "Wasn't your boss a tenant here?" Rosa challenged. "Maude's a friend of mine, too. I don't think she'd mind having Harvey wearing one of those staff shirts. I think she'd even have Harvey certified, too. He's been working out regularly, too. Betcha he could bench-press more than those butter-muscles of yours could." Barry could hardly believe what he was hearing. Although losing responsibility of the gym would logically free him up to concentrate on other aspects of running the Retirement Home, he had a sense of responsibility...and even pride...in tending to a nascent portion of the business that he was certified to administer to. "Look, Rosa..." He opted to speak carefully, given Rosa's admission that she was one of Maude's friends. "...you're right about Harvey. I do like him. I like him a lot. I'm genuinely in awe of his service record and his war stories. But the gym is mine, and I know you're not the only one who approved of my exercise sessions before you...you went..." He gestured to Rosa, trying to think of an appropriate word. "...young." "Pffft! You took advantage of our weaker minds during those classes," Rosa countered. "Treated us like kids. Harvey knows what it was like to be older, and I think that makes him a much better candidate compared to you. He could improvise and adapt. His days as a soldier taught him that much. When's the last time you were on an active battlefield, Barry?" Barry was at the end of his rope now. His patience was officially spent as he stepped in close to Rosa with an angry expression. "Listen, Rosalind, and listen good. The gym is mine." He gestured to himself. "MINE! All those workout machines in there? I requisitioned for them! Unless Harvey is officially certified, there's no way in hell anyone would endorse him!" "And who came up with that rule?" Rosa playfully mused, maintaining her sly grin even as Barry glared at her. "That doesn't sound like a directive Maude would come up with...and if it's yours? Well...don't you think that creates an advantageous little catch-22 for you to exploit? A way to monopolize the physical education element of this Retirement Home? 'No one can get my job unless they're certified', knowing full well that you're the only one here with such a lofty title. Funny, too, how you can requisition such workout machines when this is supposed to be a Retirement Home full of old people. I mean...do you honestly expect a 90 year old man to lift 200 pounds? Or more than that?" "Of course not!" Barry irritably shot back. "I just...accounted for, you know...staff. They might want to work out on them a little," He clearly sounded cautious with his words. It definitely felt like Barry was hiding something. Rosa certainly suspected this. "Well, it's nice of you to come up with a way to show off in front of weak, elderly tenants...and we still have some of those...who could only wish they were as young, and as fit, as you are. If you ask me, that's pretty fucking shameful for someone who's...what was that word? Certified?" "Rosa..." Barry went quiet for a long moment, trying to think of something...anything...that would capably defend his position and his status, but all he could come up with were rude comebacks which could potentially bite him back afterwards. He eventually found it prudent to just disengage, stubborn as it would make him appear. "...this conversation is over." He turned and went to the door, but found that it was locked. He reached for his card key... ...but Rosa had already closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around the certified young man. "Oh, don't go away mad. Stay for a little bit, dear," She turned him around, fixing an alluring stare upon his eyes. He now looked a little flustered. "Let me make amends for being such a naughty old bag." Although Barry certainly put up a fairly resolute front in his arguments about the gym, one thing he would never openly admit to was that the women who were the first to become younger in the Retirement Home...particularly Rosa...had become irresistible temptresses. Cougars, as others seemed to call them. Always on the hunt for wild passions. Part of the reason, in fact, that Barry wanted to keep his visits to rejuvenated ladies like Rosalind short was because he didn't want to be around them very long. It would become increasingly difficult...if not impossible...to fight the urge to completely surrender himself to them. But by now, Rosa was too close...and too sweet-smelling...to even think of resisting. That smouldering look in her eyes in itself made the very concept of resistance truly futile. A very nervous expression was on his face now as she provocatively smiled. "You know..." Rosa purred, keeping her every word as alluring as possible as she continued to lay on the charm. "...when you think about it, I really am old enough to be your mommy, and as such, I know whether someone's been very nice, or very naughty. Can you guess what you are, little boy?" "Rosa..." Barry was definitely faltering in his stance now. "...please, I...I work here, I...I can't be caught doing..." The blond woman brought her face in very close now. "Doing what?" Barry could not take her eyes off this irresistible cougar of a woman. "Doing...this?" And that was when Rosa planted her lips on Barry's, kissing him as passionately as possible. As she held him, she felt the tension in his body weaken. He was clearly surrendering to this, just as she had hoped. Things would potentially get easier now, particularly given what he had said in his moment of faltering. A moment which reminded him of how she had brought her sissy boytoy, Nigel, under her heel. The reminder, in itself, made her wonder if she could somehow do the same with Barry. For now, however, the blackmail she was contemplating would be enough. Once she pulled away, still smiling hungrily, a hand gently caressed his cheek. "We could pick this up another time, if you like. I mean...if you were in such a hurry to leave..." "Ummm..." Barry looked predictably unsure now. "...w-well, I, I..." "What if I were to follow you to the elevator?" Rosa teased as she played with a lock of his hair. "Make everyone think I'm your hot babe." "Uhhh...s-sure," Barry replied. "That...doesn't sound...too bad." "So? Open the door, silly!" Rosa chided, turning him to face the door. "I'll be right behind you." Nodding rapidly, Barry unlatched the door and opened it. He then stepped out into the hallway. His peripheral vision confirmed that Rosa was following. When they were halfway down the hall, however, Rosa suddenly grabbed Barry and pushed him against the side wall, once again locking lips with him as she moaned aloud. Her hands dug beneath his shirt and rubbed at his modestly hairy chest. She tried to make it sound as loud as she could. "R-Roserrphhh..." Barry found it difficult to speak, given the way Rosa was so voraciously kissing him. He managed to turn his lips to the side for a moment. "...wha...what the fuck are you..." "I don't wanna wait. The way you were arguing your point in there with me...it just made me feel so hot inside," Rosa purred. "I want you now, you big...bad...certified...physical..." She forced his head to face hers, and once again began kissing him on the lips. This time, her hands wrapped around his wrists, and she brought them up to rub at her own rejuvenated body. He was quick to oblige in squeezing and fondling at Rosa's breasts as she strategically let him take the lead. "Ahhh...haaah...I'm getting so hhhhot..." Rosa lifted a thigh to wrap around his waist. "...get this...get this shit off of me...just rip it off...rip it off now...!" Seeing as how Rosa had clearly opened the floodgates, Barry interpreted this in only one way, and he began removing Rosa's lingerie pieces. By now, people in the adjoining rooms were stepping out...and one of them was a rejuvenated woman named Blanche who was in on Rosa's plot and had her smartphone out. The crowd grew as the impromptu loveplay started to get a little more unrestrained. Responding to a whisper Rosa had subtly given Barry, the certified trainer now brought Rosa to the ground where she continued to moan and writhe in his grasp... ...but, realizing that they were now being observed, Rosa now tried to make her part in the loveplay sound a little more distressed. She made it clearly sound like he was forcing himself on her. And Blanche did her part, snapping several photos of the moment with her smartphone. She even went for alternate angles as they continued their voracious loveplay in the hallway. Many of the elderly guests were clearly shocked, and the first of these had already made a call to the front desk. Rosa was able to get a hard shot into Barry's gut with one leg, burying it deep and giving her the opportunity to scramble away from the young man, who was now doubled over in pain from the kick. Rosa's play-acting was very convincing, and the sweat on her face made it difficult for others to distinguish between sweat, or tears. The deceptive cougar definitely made it seem like Barry had tried to take advantage of her. When Geri finally made her appearance, with Maude behind her, nearby guests clearly painted the picture Rosa had wanted them to paint, and all Barry could do was to fruitlessly protest the truth. But Geri and Maude first went to Rosa, who maintained her act. "He...he jus...he just...forced himself on me..." She admitted in a shaky breath. "...he always...been staring at me...oh, Maude..." She wrapped her arms around Maude, who returned the embrace as an aghast Geri stepped over to Barry. "Is this true??" the young assistant manager asked. "Of course it isn't true!" Barry angrily replied. "That bitch forced herself on me!!" He looked to the others in the hall who were looking at him accusingly. "She's...she's fucking with all of your heads!" Geri wasn't buying it, though. "I've seen how you look at her. You've even talked about Rosalind a few times," She then pulled her smartphone. "I'm calling the police." "No, wait!" Maude barked out, holding up a hand in restraint. "Get Luther and Rhonda over here. I don't want to bring the cops in just yet," She then turned her attention to Barry. "You're under house arrest as of right now. I'm confining your ass to a room until I figure out what to do with you, you fucking monster." "Maude, I'm telling you, that...that woman is evil!!" Barry pointed angrily over to Rosa, who buried her face back in Maude's bosom in her convincing distress. "Manipulative...conniving..." "That 'manipulative' and 'conniving' woman is a friend of mine!!" She angrily countered. "You're gonna regret what you tried to do to her, you sonofabitch." Two large staff members...Rhonda, a security staffer whose broad and manly physique betrayed her side interest in bodybuilding, and Luther, another security man and a former U.S. Army Ranger with an impressive and excessively-tattooed physique all his own...finally appeared. Once Maude explained what she wanted to do with Barry, they both seized him and dragged him off as he writhed fruitlessly in their grasp. Maude gave the nearby Geri a look, and the assistant manager turned her attention to the people in the hall. "Okay, folks...show's over. Get back in your rooms. Let's go." Once Geri was gone, and the others were back in their rooms, Maude and Blanche helped the quivering and sweaty blond woman back into her own apartment. Blanche closed the door behind them. Once the door was closed, they finally dropped the act, and they had far more devious smiles on their faces. Rosa went to the bathroom, briefly, to cleanse her face of the makeup that ran during the passions she had so deviously engineered. Maude, however, was on the phone, looking out the window. All the others could hear were acknowledgements, and a confirmation that Barry had been confined to a room. Eventually, the conversation ended, and Maude turned to her friends, both of whom were sitting on a nearby couch. "Who was that?" a much calmer-looking Rosa asked. "Oh, just a bunch of problem-solvers I'm supposed to call if I ever have to deal with someone like Barry," Maude answered. "Maybe they'll take him to this 'Farm' place they mentioned." "Leaving our man Harvey to fill the void," Rosa added, with a satisfied grin. "Do we know if Barry was married?" Blanche asked. "Maybe he's still living with his mommy?" Maude shrugged. "Damned if I know. For the moment, I'm gonna see about getting Harvey certified. I'd rather have a good man like him in our gym compared to a ticking time bomb like Barry." Blanche nodded. "Real monster that 'certified physical trainer' turned out to be. Everyone was always going on about how much of a condescending asshole he was." Maude nodded in agreement, and then turned to Rosalind. "By the way...I know this worked out the way we planned it, but do me a favor. The next time you want to frame someone, I'd rather not make it appear like you were being taken advantage of. That's going to give the Retirement Home a bad rep." But Rosa was deep in thought. If only there was a way to make Barry physically weaker. I mean...if we could be made to look younger...