|
The Circus (She Devil; 2/3)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
* I did not write this story and I make no claims as to its content. I
* am simply providing a service to the alt.sex.stories newsgroup (and
* therefore the entire 'Net) by continually reposting these stories. I
* am working on the assumption that any document posted to the 'Net becomes
* public domain. However, if you are the original author of one of these
* stories, and you wish for me to remove from my archive, let me know.
*
* These stories deal primarily with female domination, forced feminization,
* and strong transsexual themes. If you get squeemish from this stuff,
* STOP READING NOW.
*
* All requests for subscriptions or reposts will be utterly ignored.
* It's simple enough: just wait for the story to come around again.
*
* If you have stories that you would like to add to this archive, PLEASE
* SEND ME AN INDEX -FIRST- so I can figure out what exactly I need.
*
* -- The Archivist
* TRANSGENDER ARCHIVES
* [email protected]
The Circus - Part 2
by She-Devil
*****
And I was standing, free, in what had been the oriental
cabinet.
Free and almost naked!
I squealed and clasped my arms around me as I suddenly
realized that I was standing there in front of everyone in just my
stockings, gloves and heels! And as the band kicked up a lively
circus chase theme, I leaped from the platform and ran, blushing
furiously, to the safety of the performers door under the stands.
A little while later, in the front of her trailer, She Devil
massaged my back softly as I lay comfortably nude on her floor.
She was nude herself, and the feel of her bare thighs straddling my
back was giving me warn tingles all over that had nothing to do
with the carpet beneath my stomach.
"There, there, Poor Little Thing," she cooed softly. "I know
it was just horrible, but really you were sensational. And you
were really the best one for the job, you know; you and Molly have
completely different coloring, but there is enough resemblance
between your faces and builds to add a lot of visual impact to the
illusion. But don't worry. I'll tell Magica to do her acts from
now on without your assistance."
"Oh thank you, She Devil," I breathed softly, luxuriating in
the gentle touch of her hands up and down my bare back. Then I
thought of something else: "By the way, uh, how long has Molly been
with you?"
"Molly?" She Devil replied casually. "Why for years and
years. At first, she was too young to even use in any of the
acts, but her mother had died years ago and the acrobatic troupe
that bad been raising her broke up, and... well, the kid bad no
place to go and nothing but a pathetic little envelope full of
papers and photographs, so I took her in and found some things for
her to do that didn't involve performing for the customers. She
and Leona (Oh, you don't remember Leona, do you? She left the show
a couple of years back.) Anyway, she and Leona worked out that
cat act and when Leona left, Molly took over. But why so
interested in Molly? Should I be jealous?"
"Oh no," I answered quickly. "Just curious, that's all."
"Well that better be all," She Devil moaned and leaned
forward, I felt the hairs between her legs brush across my smooth
bottom as her full breasts flattened against my bare back, and I
felt that old familiar ache in my pussy. Did I say Pussy? I mean
the ache was in my male genitals, of course, hidden behind the
false pussy. Funny how I was getting confused about that lately.
But She Devil was still talking.
"I want you all to myself, you magnificent animal, you," she
was saying. "I want to cage you and keep you and have you perform
just for me. And I want to have you feeding right out of my
hand... or right out of any place else I think of!
"Oh yes," I sighed, helpless to resist this woman's lesbian
charms. "Any thing for you, She Devil!"
"All right, Animal!" she giggled. "Play Horsie for me!"
"What?" I half rolled over and looked up at her quizzically.
"You heard me," she insisted softly. "Play Horsie! Come on
now, up on your hands and knees, right between my legs here...
That's right! Oooo, that feels sexy! Now carry me around the room
this way! That's it! Giddyap, Horsie!"
And, odd as it may seem, I, Martin Howard, a man of
considerable wealth (and on my way to much more) did just as she
asked -- willingly! Nude and completely feminized, I happily
carried this equally naked circus performer around the room on my
back, feeling my breasts sway beneath me as I walked, revelling in
the exciting jiggle of my bare pink rump as She Devil swatted it
playfully. And then, when my ride had ended us up in the bedroom,
I took my reward, lapping gratefully between her tempting nether-
lips until she at last moaned in fulfillment and felt my own body
tingle with naughty lesbian enjoyment.
After then, it seemed like all She Devil wanted to do when we
were together was some variation on the "horsie" game. As soon as
I entered her trailer, I would have to strip naked and drop to my
knees to approach her. When I did this, she would rub me
affectionately behind the ears and call me a Good Horsie, and if
there was time she would have me fetch the Bridle.
Ah yes, the Bridle. I really didn't care much for this, but
She Devil had it made up specially for me by the Round-Up Girls,
and she seemed to really love having me wear it, so I humored her.
Basically, it was a set of leather straps that buckled tightly
around my head, fastened to a semi-soft plastic tube about half an
inch long and an inch in diameter. This tube was placed between my
teeth and the straps adjusted so that I was biting down on it, my
teeth fitting into little grooves on the outside. When She Devil
had finished putting this thing on me, my mouth was held open and
she could jerk my head side to side by pulling on the reins. I
could make little whinnying noises, but intelligible speech was out
the question so long as this thing was on.
And She Devil had a host of devilish little tricks for keeping
it in place! One evening, while wearing it, I happened to turn my
back to her and suddenly felt my wrists seized from behind. In no
time, my hands were cuffed behind me and She Devil was laying down
the law:
"Now Horsie," she said with mock severity. "You've been very
lax in your duties lately, so I'm going to do a little something to
impress you with how much I love having you all for my very own
Horsie and how I hate to see you spending so much time in Molly's
trailer. Understand?"
I whined and nodded my head, agreeing that I shouldn't be
spending so much time there. Actually, I had almost found what I
was after...... but She Devil took my assent as permission to
punish me
"Very well," she said, uncoiling a length of rope. "Kneel
down!"
I did as she ordered, unsure of where all this was leading,
and quickly found that she had bound my left ankle to my upper left
thigh and was doing the same with my right! As always with She
Devil, I was completely nude except for my bridle, and as she
fussed over me, I felt myself oddly excited by the feel of her
leather boots brushing against me, the whisper of her tan denim
jodhpurs, and the softness of her breasts through her white silk
blouse as she leaned over me.
But this was no time to think of that. What was happening to
me? She Devil tied each ankle immovably to its thigh, and now she
was tying my knees together with a long, long length of the soft
but strong nylon rope. As I looked down in wonder, she took the
unused portion of this rope, which was sticking out from behind my
bent knees, and was using it to wrap my bent legs ! Around and
around she went, tightening and re-tightening, until my leg stumps
were bound together like a mummy, encircled by yards and yards of
the white cord, from my ankles and upper thighs right down to my
pink knees.
But She Devil wasn't finished there. In no time, she had
produced a frilly, lace trimmed, corset of heavy white satin,
reinforced with strong plastic ribs, and she was fastening this
thing around my middle, tugging mercilessly at the laces.
Ooogh! I felt my waist being nipped in to breathless
tightness as She Devil pulled and pulled at the laces. The frilly
white satin trim at the top and bottom of this brushed the
undersides of my breasts and tickled the hairs at the top of my
pussy as She Devil at last judged it confining enough and tied it
off.
"Now what shall we do with those hands of yours?" She Devil
mused. "Horsies don't have hands, you know! I have it!"
She went to her medicine cabinet and soon returned with two
big rolls of white surgical taps. Taking each hand separately, she
bent the fingers and proceeded to wrap it firmly into a useless
half fist, leaving only the thumbs free. I wondered about this
briefly.. until She Devil made her next move!
With a smooth motion, she unlocked my handcuffs and before I
could think what to do, tied my thumbs together in front of me with
a length of white nylon ribbon. Then, to finish things off, she
ran a length of narrow white nylon cord from my thumbs to my knees,
leaving about two feet of slack between them|
"There now!" She Devil stood up and smiled down at me.
"Horsie won't go wandering off now, will she?"
I looked at myself in a full length mirror on the far wall and
blushed with shame. Crouched there on my hands and knees, I was a
pink and white picture of helpless submission. The white bondage
encircling my bent up legs and hands went perfectly with my white
satin corset, accentuating the flesh tones of exposed breasts and
bottom, which now reared up behind me in humiliating prominence.
Encircled by my dark hair and the leather straps of my bridle, my
pretty feminine face gaped uselessly at the sight I made, down on
all fours and completely unable to rise, to take off my bridle...
to do anything but what I was ordered!
And, standing over me, toying with a shiny black riding crop,
She Devil obviously had some interesting orders planned!
"Move around some, Horsie!" she giggled softly. "I want to
study your movements. Get along now!"
As best I could, I moved my bound fists forward on the carpet,
then wiggled my ass behind me, sliding my knees forward to catch
up. Then, when I had a little more slack, I repeated the whole
shameful process: First a breathtaking jerk with my taped fists,
then a tail wagging shuffle with my hampered knees to catch up.
She Devil laughed delightedly at my antics.
"How cute!" she chuckled, flexing the riding crop in her
hands. "But I wonder what would happen if I used this!"
I quailed at the sight of the leather quirt, shaking my head
and whining for all I was worth, and She Devil laughed again.
"Oh, I don' t mean to spank your naughty bottom with," she
tittered. "Not right now, anyway! But look what happens when I
tickle your nipples with it... my! They're standing right up! And
you're moaning! Now what happens when I brush it across the soles
of your bare feet? Does that tickle? My, your bottom bounces when
you jump like that! And the way your titties shake is positively
indecent! Settle down Horsie!"
Somehow, I made myself stop bucking and stood there (if being
forcibly tied down on one's hands and knees can be called
"standing") quivering with anxiety and sexual tension as She Devil
softly stroked my naked flanks with her hand, then playfully
tickled me under the nose with the tip of the riding crop.
"And now, Horsie, it's time you were punished for spending so
much time in Molly's trailer and making She Devil jealous!"
Punished? You mean there was more? Yes, apparently there
was, because She Devil went on:
"You see, it's just now Show Time and I'm going to be busy for
the next few hours coordinating some of the acts. I had thought
about just tying your reins to a post out in the middle of the
campgrounds and leaving you there, but now I have a better idea:"
"After the Show, I'm going straight to your trailer. When I
get there, I want to find you, bound just as you are now. That
means you'll have to hustle your cute little ass all the way there
from here! Fortunately for your sake, there won't be too many
girls in this area during the show, but you'll have some pleasant
moments trying to keep from being seen like that, my little modest
missie! I think I may also tell the girls that there's a reward
out for whoever catches you out and ties you to her trailer, just
to make things interesting! So, there you have it, Horsie: You've
got about three hours to sneak across camp and lock yourself in
your trailer until I come for you. If you're caught, your fate
will be up to whoever catches you. But if you don't, at least try
to make it, and I find you still in here when I come beck after the
show..." She smiled impishly. "Well, let's just say that this
nasty old riding crop has a lot of applications! 'Ta now!"
And, blowing me a kiss, she vanished out the door!
I don't know how long I huddled there in that trailer, feeling
my arms and legs stiffen in their restraints, chafing under the
growing ache in my neck as I strained to hold my head up, and
trembling in fear at the prospect of hobbling and crawling clear
across camp in this bound-up bare-assed state. I looked at myself
miserably in the mirror and my big pink bottom and jiggling bare
breasts seemed to mock me. How had a man like me ever gotten into
a situation like this? Feminized, bridled, breasted and bound down
on all fours, and in this state faced with the prospect of trying
to make it clear across the circle of trailers that formed our
camp, at the mercy of a bunch of gaudy whores!
For the umpteenth time I wondered what spell She Devil had
cast over me to get me into a fix like this, then I sighed, nosed
open the trailer door and peeked out.
It looked good. Everyone was assembled for the Opening Parade
and the rest of the camp was deserted. Cautiously I turned around,
backed my big rump out the door, and backed carefully down the
three steps to the ground.
Down on the soft grass at last, I looked around again. Still
deserted; I just might make it. But I'd better keep close to the
trailers and go around the perimeter rather than cut across; that
way, if anyone came, I could always duck under a trailer and hide
till they passed. Cautiously, I began my journey: A forward tug on
my bound arms, then a jiggling shuffle in my knees to catch up.
Then another forward tug. And another shuffle. Tug-shuffle, tug-
shuffle, tug-shuffle ....
My bridled jaws throbbed with the pain of being kept forced
open like this for so long, even as my neck screamed silent agony
from the strain of holding my head up to see in front of my. Every
forward tug of my bound hands jerked at the rope that secured them
to my knees and prevented me from straightening up. My knees
burned from the friction of scooting them across the grass, and my
bent-up, rope-wrapped legs felt like they were growing numb. I had
to stop, rest, and hide somewhere.
Then I looked up and saw that I was right in front of Molly's
trailer.
And the door was ajar!
Over the last week or so, I had indeed been spending quite a
lot of time there, as She Devil had mentioned; but not for the
reason she suspected! Ever since She Devil had dropped that
passing comment about Molly showing up with "a pathetic little
envelope full of papers and photographs" I had been obsessed with
the idea of finding them and seeing if they contained proof of
Molly's identity.
You see, there was a lot about Holly that led me to believe
that she was none other then my long-lost bastard cousin. As She
Devil had mentioned, there was a slight physical resemblance
between us: nothing major, just a hint around the chin and nose.
More importantly though, Molly had mentioned to me once that she
had exceptionally strong teeth and had never required any dental
work! This was one characteristics that is shared by nearly all
the Howard family, and when she told me about it, it clenched my
suspicions. All I needed was proof. And the only place to get it
would be to find that envelope full of papers and photographs, that
until now I hadn't had a chance to really search for!
All this and more flashed through my mind in an instant as I
tugged and pulled my way up her steps and in the door of her
trailer. It might seem terribly foolish of me to try looking for
anything in my present state, but I had to rest somewhere anyway,
and I knew I might not get a chance like this again soon.
Half an hour later, rested and a little more mobile, I began
my search. I had found a knife in the kitchenette of Molly's
trailer and used it to cut the ribbon that held my thumbs together.
With my hands still taped up, it didn't free me by a long shot, but
at least I could raise my arms now and use my thumbs to open
drawers and such.
Being familiar with Molly's trailer, it didn't take me long to
find what I was looking for: a strong manila envelope tucked into
some old scrapbooks. And everything I needed was right there! A
birth certificate from some county in Utah that I'd never heard of,
where one Kitty O'Malley, passing through with a troupe of
acrobats, had delivered her daughter Molly. There were
photographs, of mother and daughter that cinched the whole thing;
The Kitty O'Malley in these pictures was obviously the one that
Uncle Hubert's detectives were looking for, and the girl with her
was just as obviously her daughter Molly!
It was all here, everything I needed. And it was in just the
right package, too! Without this stuff, much as they might
suspect, no one could prove that Molly was really Uncle Hubert's
bastard child. With it, the proof would stand up anywhere.
And I had it all, right in my hands, to do whatever I wanted
with!
For just a second, I forgot all about my present condition. I
forgot that I was feminized, bound, bare breasted and bare-assed,
bridled speechless and hobbling about on my knees. For that brief
moment, I was Martin Howard all over again, a man of wealth and
status, with infinite possibilities stretching out before him:
Should I take this stuff to my greedy relatives and let them bid to
buy my silence? Or should I play the hero and be the one to bring
the long-lost daughter back to the arms of her dying, loving, and
financially grateful repentant father? Either way, I was going to
be richer than I ever had been before. All I had to do was tell
She Devil that I'd had enough of Circus Life, drop out of the
troupe and disappear, only to resurface in a few days as my real
self.
Well, I decided, all things considered I might as well be Mr.
Nice Guy and tell Molly about her inheritance and help her prove
her claim to it. Besides, that would give me a chance to see She
Devil again, and find out if she'd respond to me as I really was:
A man!
Sighing through my open-mouth tube, I decided I'd better
replace the envelope and try to sneak back to my trailer. Still in
my uncomfortable bondage (a little easier now with my arms not
bound together, but still awfully awkward) I pranced my ass beck
to the scrapbook and, clutching the envelope as best I could with
my thumb and taped fist, began putting it back.
PART THREE
Even if I hadn't been gagged, I'd have been speechless with
shock as I spun around to see who had crept up behind me so
quietly. And even if I hadn't been already bound, I'd still have
been motionless with guilty terror as I crouched there, incredibly
feminine and incredibly helpless, my big pink breasts and ass
exposed to the world, and looked up into the smiling face of my gay
cousin Roderick!
"Hello Martin," he beamed, tucking the envelope into his
pocket and pulling out a small, shiny pistol, "Or is it Mattie
now? I must say I like your appearance much better now. And your
taste in clothing is positively captivating! That is the way you
feel now, isn't it? Captivated? I think I'll keep you that way
from now on!"
He sat down on the edge of the bed, still smiling at me and
casually holding the pistol. I felt myself redden under his gaze
as his eyes swept up and down shamefully displayed femininity until
I was positively burning with embarrassment and helpless
humiliation. Miserably unable to speak or run away, I pressed my
legs together as best I could and crossed my taped fists over my
massive titties.
"Good idea!" Roderick chuckled. Then suddenly he reached
into another pocket and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs. Before
I knew it, be had secured my left wrist to my right forearm vice
versa, so that my arms were permanently crossed in front of my
curvaceous bare chest. I looked up at him in wonder.
"That's just to make sure you keep still while I tell you
what's going to happen," he explained, sitting back down. So that
you'll know exactly what's going to become of you and our bastard
cousin and how helpless you are to prevent any of it.
"You see. I suspected back in New York that you were up to
something, and the way your appearance was changing (I mean you
can't hide a thing like a sex change from a judge of the male form
like me!) really piqued my curiosity. So the day after you left.
I broke into your apartment and began looking through your
records!"
My eyes widened in shock as he continued:
"It was quite an interesting story I pieced together," he
said, "What with your detectives tracing Uncle Hubert's long lost
daughter to this all female circus and you feminizing yourself to
join the show undercover, so to speak. And I must say that the
detail about putting Uncle Hubert's detectives on a false trail so
you could have a few weeks to investigate things on your own showed
surprising intelligence -- coming from you, I mean."
"But I've decided on a little variation of my own. Would you
like to hear it, you gorgeous, feminine thing you?. Of course you
would! Well, in a few minutes, when that Molly person comes in the
door, I'm going to shoot her! I've been practicing quite a bit, so
there shouldn't be any difficulty at all in killing her with one
shot, and her act finishes first tonight, so there won't be anyone
in the area to hear it," he twirled the gun playfully. "Dead eye
Roderick, that's me! But you won't be awake to appreciate my
marksmanship."
He reached into his pockets once more with his free hand and
drew out a small hypodermic syringe! I shivered in dread as he
went on to outline his plans for me:
"You'll be sound asleep by that time, my Dear. That way, you
won't give me any trouble when I untape those lovely hands of yours
(by the way, it was very considerate of you to put yourself up like
that for my benefit! I'm thrilled to discover that you're into
bondage too, because that's just how I like my men: bound and
feminized! But I digress, don't I?). When I untape those lovely
hands of yours and put your fingerprints all over the gun, which
I'll leave here.
"And you? Well I'm going to wait until very late, then spirit
your sleeping form out to my car and off to a hospital near here
where I've arranged for Mattie Huntington to have a little plastic
surgery! Oh, nothing major; just enough so that no one will
recognize you when I bring you back to New York and introduce you
as my bride who I picked up in Florida -- which is where everyone
thinks I am now, boating! Don't fret so, Beautiful! I know that
being my Terribly Submissive Wife will take some getting used to,
but since the Police will all be searching for Martin Howard for
the murder of this girl Holly, I think you'll find it much better
than the alternative! Can you imagine life in a Southwestern
Prison? In your condition?"
"No, there's no sense in you moaning like that; I'm not going
to ungag you and let you argue with me. I've gone to too much
trouble in the surrounding area here convincing everyone that I'm
you! It wasn't easy buying all the forged identification and
such, but believe there is now a very convincing trail of evidence
to put you right in this spot and me a thousand,miles away. I even
bought this gun in your name! And oh yes, the Relatives are going
to pay a pretty penny for me removing both you and your Cousin in
one deft stroke.
He picked up the syringe, putting his thumb on the plunger and
leaned forward.
"Sleepy-time, Sweetheart!" he laughed, "when you wake up,
Martin Howard will be a wanted fugitive and You will he my Bondage
Bride! Now hold still while I slip this needle under your
breast... Uh--Wha-- ?
Just at that moment the door opened and She Devil entered.
Roderick hesitated for an instant, the syringe poised in his hand
as he tried to figure out what to do now.
And in that instant, I leaned forward, on top of the hand
holding the syringe, plunging it deep into his thigh and squeezing
the plunger! He squealed, looked sharply at me, then his eyes went
soft and he collapsed with a tired moan.
She Devil looked back and forth between us, her green eyes
flashing.
"Just what the Hell is going on here?" she demanded.
Ooohruuughuu!" I gurgled through my gag.
* * * * * *
It was two hours later. She Devil and I were in her trailer,
looking at the cold inert form of my late Cousin Roderick.
"Guess his heart just couldn't take it," She Devil said. "Too
bad for him. And for you too, come to think of it"
I was huddled shaking on the overstuffed chair in She Devil's
tiny living room, wrapped in a housecoat of flame colored satin
that she had thoughtfully given me after she'd untied me and we'd
carried my Cousin's body over here unseen. I had told her
everything: All about myself, my real sex and identity and what I
was doing here -- even my mixed motives in assuming this disguise.
I was Just too shaken up to hold anything back.
And now I looked at her in fresh consternation.
"Me too?" I squeaked. "What do you mean?"
"In case you haven't noticed, Babe," She Devil explained
coolly, "We're got a dead body here: one that's going to have to be
explained to the Police. Said body has a hole from a needle in his
thigh and your fingerprints are all over the syringe!"
"B-but you said he-he died of a heart attack." I stammered.
"For all I know. it could just as easily be an overdose," She
Devil replied. "And from what you said this joker ran around buying
everything in your name. So when the Police see him, they're going
to start putting motive, method, and opportunity together real
fast!"
"But you saw it" I protested. "You saw me... him..."
"What I saw went by so fast I could not even figure it out,"
she countered. "Not that the cops would buy my story any way.
They'd probably just figure me for an Accessory! No, thank you!"
"But then-then what are we going to do?" I whimpered pulling
the satin housecoat tighter over my smooth, bare, feminine flesh as
I curled my shapely legs beneath me for warmth. "I-I can't let
them arrest me for murder! I can't let anyone know I've been here
like-like this!"
"Steady girl." She Devil cautioned. "There Just might be a
way to get us both off the hook for your cousin's murder without
giving anything away about your work here -- Or your disguise!
It'll take a lot of work and a lot of sacrifice on your part, but
I think we can carry it off. And like you said your cousin told
you: It'll be better than a stretch in prison for murder... in
your condition!"
"Anything," I assented eagerly. "Any thing would be better
than that! What's your idea?"
"Just this:" she said. "This Roderick guy went through a lot
of trouble, you said, to leave everyone in this area convinced he
was you, Martin Howard. Even if we knew what all he'd done, we
could probably never erase it. So whatever happens, when they find
this stiff, the Police are going to know that Martin Howard was in
this vicinity. So what if we carry your cousin Roderick's
impersonation of you a step further?"
"Wh-what do you mean?" I asked.
"Just this," She Devil explained. "You two are roughly the
same build and hair color, and from what you've told me, neither.
one of you has any fillings, so there won't be any dental records
to check. So what do you think the Police would figure if they
found a body -- mangled beyond recognition -- dressed in your
clothes and carrying your identification?"
"Wh-why, they'd think it was me, I guess," I said. "Especially
since there would be local records and witnesses who thought they'd
seen me in this area! But-but how on earth could we ever explain
that mark on his body or-or what you said about him being mangled?"
"Easy!" She Devil smiled. "Molly's cats! They seem gentle
enough with her, but they just hate strange men! We could even rub
some fish oil over the hands and face, to make sure they give those
parts a good going over!"
I shivered in horror at the thought. But I could see her
awful logic: If the Police found my cousin Roderick dead here, and
me here also, in disguise, they couldn't help but think I'd killed
him; but if they found a body they thought was me, and could piece
together stories from witnesses to "prove" that I'd just arrived
here and met with an accident in the cats' cage... Then they
wouldn't be looking for me at all!. I'd be perfectly safe!. But
there was another problem:
"She Devil," I said, "One other thing: As soon as word of my
'death' gets out, I'm not going to be able to be me any more! Where
will I go? What will I do?
"I thought you'd get around to that," She Devil replied,
"Well, I owe you something, maybe, for not letting that gay cousin
of yours shoot me. And I definitely owe you something for lying to
me, getting this whole set up into this fix, and trying to rob poor
Molly of her inheritance--"
"But I wasn't going to--"
"Quiet!" She Devil snapped. "So I figure you can stay on
here as one of the girls for awhile. It won't be the easy life you
were used to, but it'll be meals and a roof over your head until
you decide you'd like to try something different. It'll beat jail,
I bet."
"You'd do that for me?" I asked, relieved to be seeing a way
out of all this at last. "You'd let me stay here and work for
you?"
"Oh, you'll be working all right," She Devil smirked. "You
may not like all of it, but you can always leave and try something
else if you're too unhappy here, and you wouldn't get that choice
in prison. But there's one other thing, from what you've said,
when word of Martin Howard's death gets out, those detectives that
you and your Uncle hired are going to come down on this place like
a pack of hungry hounds. They'Il find your cousin Molly, of
course, and take her off to be reunited with her rich Daddy. No
problem there but while they're here, and we don't know for sure
when they'll be coming or how long they'll stay, we've got to make
sure they don't recognize you or take any pictures of you that
someone else might be able to identify. In other words, we've got
to disguise you even more than you are now. Enough so that no one
will ever recognize you!"
"But, how will we do that?"
"Let's take care of this thing first."
She Devil nudged the body of my late Cousin with the toe of
her high-heeled shiny black leather boot, then looked up at me.
"Then we'Il go see Lila, the Tattoed Lady!"
* * * * * *
The detectives were a couple of overweight tired looking guys
sweating in the unaccustomed heat, but they had brought along with
them a sharp looking female attorney from a local branch of the
firm that handles my uncle's business. I opened the door for them,
and curtseyed in my short skirted maid's uniform, my eyes downcast
demurely, trying not to feel the hot stares of the two men as their
eyes fastened on my dark, shapely legs, and the tops of my enormous
breasts. They were round, brown, and more than amply displayed by
the low cut decolletage of my uniform.
"Madame!"
I turned to She Devil and curtseyed again, as I had been
taught to do, while I made the formal announcement.
"Zee Detectives are 'eer!"
"Thank you, Yvette."
She Devil nodded to me condescendingly. "Why don't you fix us
all drinks while we chat?" She turned to her guests, "so what else
can I do for you?"
"Nothing much, Ma'am," the older of the two replied, ogling
openly at me even as he spoke to She Devil.
"Or I guess not right now, anyway. Miss, er Ms., Bidwell here
just thought we should go over things one last time before we leave
with Miss O'Malley to make sure there was nothing left out of your
statement."
I felt the still unfamiliar stiffness of my coarse, kinky
black hair as I bent my head over the drinks, trying to listen,
even as my dark hands, with their slightly lighter palms, stirred
a pitcher full of gin and vermouth.
"Everything should be there," She Devil said calmly, relaxing
in her chair.
"From what you've said, that Martin Howard must have learned
something about Molly's real father and come down here trying to
find her himself. Why he went into the Cat Cage is something of a
mystery, though."
"From what the Police said, there were Narcotics in his system
at the time of his death." The older detectives' eyes widened a
bit as I pirouetted gracefully in my high heels (it had been a
bitch learning to walk in them) and minced over to the company
balancing my tray of drinks.
His voice caught in his throat as I had to turn my back to him
and serve the female attorney, who was eyeing my scanty costume
critically and pursing her lips in undisguised disapproval at the
expanse of my dark colored skin left uncovered.
"His uncle told us that Martin was kind of a wild, high living
guy, so we figure maybe he did a few lines of Coke and wasn't
thinking too clear when he went in there," the detective went on as
soon as he had recovered from the sight of my panty clad ass, as I
bent over, as seen from the rear. I had begged She Devil not to
make wear such tiny white lace panties with this short 'skirt', but
my pleas had fallen on deaf ears as she had insisted that I appear
in them. I dutifully turned and offered the detective a drink as
he went on.
"He also he had a gun with him, so maybe he figured he could
use it before those cats.., uh down here Honey, my arm's a little
stiff and I can't raise it too high."
I felt myself blushing hotly beneath my newly acquired dark
cheeks as I bent lower to offer him the tray of drinks, giving him
an unobstructed view down the front of my dress, even as I was
treating his partner to the panorama of my scantilty clad ebony
ass. Then I had to whirl around and go through the whole thing
again with the other guy!.
"Better bend down a little lower Hon, I'm stiff too," he
leered, "what'd you say your name was?"
"Sorry," I said in the baby doll voice She Devil had made me
work on until it was perfect, "but I do not understand zee English
too well yet!"
"Her name's Yvette," She Devil answered, giving me a secret
smile as I turned to her with the last of the drinks, "she's from
Algeria, and she doesn't speak too much English yet."
"And just how did she happen to emigrate to this part of the
world?" Ms. Bidwell asked sweetly, with an underlying sharpness
that unsettled my nerves. But She Devil was ready for her.
"She advertised for an American husband," she told her. "I'm
sure you've heard about those things. You see, girls like her,
dark skinned with a French father and a native mother aren't
treated very well in her part of the world, so she decided to take
TO BE CONTINUED
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
To find out more about the anon service, send mail to [email protected].
Due to the double-blind, any mail replies to this message will be anonymized,
and an anonymous id will be allocated automatically. You have been warned.
Please report any problems, inappropriate use etc. to [email protected].
|
|
