Previously, in The Lolly Anne Conspiracies: Michael never expected to wake up one morning in the body of a preteen blonde girl. And once he did, the rest of his life turned upside-down too! Fleeing his apartment and his now-suspicious girlfriend, Michael, now calling herself Michaela, found herself being sexually molested by two neighbors before meeting Maria... another girl claiming to also be a man. She told her that from now on, Michael would live three days of every month as Michaela, but there wasn't much time for more information... others were after him. The two eventually made their way to an office building in Chinatown, where he met Maria's organization, a group of others who shared the Lolly Anne affliction, including a familiar face... the father of the girl he first loved.
The Lolly Anne Conspiracies (tg, magic, g*, ped*, loli*, viol)
Installment 2: "Safehouse" (additional codes: Mg*g*, g*g*, exhib, g*solo, gang, spank, toys)
(* indicates that the code applies due to the bodies of the people involved... since the story involves magical transgenderism, the minds involved may be very different)
I walked to the couches, trying to hide my nervousness and sat down in the chair meant for me. Around me were a half-dozen men and three little girls, looking between the ages of 10 and 14. I knew that very probably they weren't little girls at all. They were probably like me, men who, improbably, turned into girls once a month and stayed that way for three days. Lolly Annes they called themselves. It was my first day as a little blonde girl, so I still had to take it on faith that it was a temporary, if recurrent, condition. But if they were telling the truth about that, then the men in the group were almost certainly the same, just not in their girl form.
One of the three girls was the one who brought me here, Maria, a beautiful, refined-looking little girl in a school uniform. One of the men I knew only as Mr. Nabokov, the father of my first love, but now I had to question even that. The others I didn't know, but luckily, Nabokov started with introductions. I kept my eyes on him, realizing as I did, my initial estimate of his apparent age, at mid-thirties, was probably wrong... as I looked closer, there were signs of age, and he was wearing makeup... not the obvious, dressing-up kind, but I suspected he was a vain man who was trying to turn the clock as much as possible. Despite all that, he still looked remarkably young for his, or what should be his, age, given I knew him more than a decade ago. Maybe he'd had plastic surgery.
He spoke in a cultured, tempered voice, like a professor. "You already know Maria, so I'll introduce the rest of us. You can call me Pierre."
"Not Mr. Nabokov?"
He smiled. "No. It was a pseudonym. It comes with... what we do. Often lies are easier than the truth." When he saw I wasn't going to press him, he continued, gesturing to a bushy-haired guy in perhaps his mid-twenties. "This is Malcolm, who becomes Karen three days a month." The next was a little girl, a redhead with freckles, wearing a green blouse over a pair of jeans. "Barbara, who was born Richard." The next was a tall, dour-looking man apparently in his fifties. "Samuel, or Samantha in his younger form." He nodded at me. "Mel slash Melanie," was next, a tanned blonde guy in his twenties who looked like he could be a bouncer in a club, tight wifebeater shirt and everything, followed by "Stanley, who is also Stella," a balding dark-haired man with glasses, also dressed in a suit, who looked like he might be an accountant or lawyer. His features, nose especially, suggested he might be Jewish, but maybe that was just because he was right beside the almost teutonic-looking Mel. Next up was the last girl, "Erica, who was born Eric." She was a brown-haired girl with green eyes and a perpetual excited grin, wearing a Glee t-shirt and shorts. She was a girl I might have thought really was a little girl if I didn't know better, excited to be at a real meeting, with adults. Next was "Leslie," a slightly portly black-haired man in a business suit, probably in his thirties or maybe forties.
There was one man left. He was probably in his late twenties, legitimately so, lanky, and with brown hair that was both messy and a little too long to manly, yet too short to be girly or even to pull off the aging-rocker look. Although he was dressed in what must have been an expensive suit, he didn't wear it well, the collar and cuffs were unbuttoned and there was no tie, and he didn't carry himself like somebody who wore a suit regularly. He sat with one leg up on the couch, and looked like he was a little uncomfortable and not sure how he should sit. Despite his age, he seemed like the most immature of all the men, and reminded me of nothing quite so much as a teenager dressed for a wedding and hating it. "This is Adam," Pierre said. "Our leader."
I looked at him more closely at that revelation, but still, he didn't look like a leader... at least, he didn't look like the kind of person people would follow, even if he had good ideas. He looked like a geek, and even waved to me like one, with a shy, self-conscious smile. There was something extremely familiar about the smile, but I couldn't place it.
With the last of the introductions done, there was a silence. All of them waited for me to speak, to ask what questions were on my mind. I put aside the issue of Adam, and asked. "How did this happen to me?"
"I told you," Maria said. "The curse."
Yes, she had, but she'd been notably sparse on the details. A curse that was transmitted from person to person. "Okay, so where did it come from?"
"That we don't really know," said the freckle-faced redhead, Barbara, and then went on, speaking with some authority on the subject, certainly more than her apparent age would suggest. "The oldest reported Lolly Anne we can completely confirm discovered her curse in the 1950s. Before that it gets confused. There are stories, but they're closer to legends than anything else. They might be bullshit." I looked at her, silently bidding her to continue, and she seemed to get embarrassed, but said it anyway. "Well, the story goes that a little gypsy girl was raped, and her mother cast the curse on her rapist, to turn him into a girl who would be abused by others."
"That's what you've got for me? Gypsy curse?" I rolled my eyes a little. "Isn't that a little... racist?"
"It's not racist if it really happened," Maria said.
"Big if," Barbara scoffed.
Stanley smirked a little. "Barbara's a little more skeptical of the gypsy story. The truth is, at this point, we're unlikely to find firm evidence. But the gypsy story's believed by a lot of us, both here and in the Company."
"Exactly why I don't trust it," Barbara insisted. "They're the enemy. Anything that comes from their side is bound to be misinformation. They lie even to their own people." She leaned over to grab a finger-sandwich from the plate in front of her. My own stomach quietly rumbled.
"The Company?" I asked. They were described as the enemy, and that led to a more pressing issue. "They're the other group who were after me?" Maria nodded slightly, and I reached over to get a bite to eat myself, coming up with what looked like little triangular turkey sandwich with lettuce and mayo. Nobody seemed to object to my taking it, so I assumed it was okay. "Who are they? What do they want with me?" I popped it into my mouth and began chewing. It tasted different, somehow, than I expected... still good, but maybe they'd thrown something into the mayonnaise to give it flavor.
"The Company... well, they're the bad guys," Maria said with gritted teeth.
"The Company was, as far as we know, the first organized collection of Lolly Annes. Originally, they were a lot like us... sort of a mutual support group, everybody helping everybody out, researching the origins of our abilities and, like us, looking for a cure. Eventually, they became... corrupted." Samuel spoke, and, being the oldest of the group as far as I could tell, I wondered if he was there himself.
"The leadership now believes they're above concerns of right and wrong," Pierre continued, "reveling in sexual depravity and willing to abuse real children for fun, using their curse to help them engage in blackmail and murder."
Erica illustrated the point. "Picture a little girl knocking on a target's door, crying, and claiming that they're lost. Before the target can call the police, a gun with a silencer is drawn and fired. It's even easier if the target's a pedophile. Get some video of a politician fucking an eleven year old girl, and he's in your pocket forever."
Adam spoke then, for the first time ever. "Normally we try not to interfere with each other unless we have to. This is a practical decision rather than a moral one... we're philosophically opposed to them, but open conflict is bad for everybody. Recently, though, they've become bolder, and whenever a new Lolly Anne is discovered in the wild, they go after it. They'd like to get all of us under their thumb, but first timers are particularly vulnerable."
I swallowed what was in my mouth. "Why?"
I waited for Adam to answer, and so did everybody else, but when it became clear to all of us that Adam wasn't going to say anything else, Barbara jumped in. "One of the rules of Lolly Annes is that your Lolly Anne body reverts to the same state at the beginning of every transformation. Break a bone as a Lolly Anne, and when you next transform, it'll be fixed. However, your first time, for some reason, sets the state you return to."
"So watch yourself," Maria warned. "If you break a bone in the next three days, for the rest of your life you'll become a girl with a broken bone three days a month. Same with scars, and everything else." I noticed again the bandage under her eye, relieved that it wouldn't be permanent.
"If you haven't had sex yet," Malcolm suggested. "You really should... losing your hymen over and over again is really overrated."
I stared at him a moment, wondering if he was just trying to get me to fuck him, and if I'd let him. Probably, but not until I got some answers. "That's not going to be a problem for me," I said simply. "So, if they can't have me, they'd, what, break my legs so I can't do anything?"
Adam answered again. "It's happened, but their favorite trick is to catch new Lolly Annes and inject them with an addictive designer drug, so their bodies are high when they end their first cycle... so every time they transform back into a little girl, they're in instant withdrawal and can't escape the pain. In order to get your fix, you'd have to do whatever they want. They do it for all their own converts, now, and you, they'd love to get their hands on you, because you're not a normal Anne."
"No. You're a natural born. Your mother... your real mother was a Anne."
He said it casually, like he didn't expect the revelation would bother me, like it might not rock my whole world almost as much as waking up as a girl myself. I mean, I knew I was adopted, my parents never hid that from me... but this, this was something else. "My mother... was a guy?"
Adam just nodded, with the faintest of shrugs, and a tiny smile, as though he was trying to convey he was sorry to have to break the news to me, and yet he found it hilarious. Pierre broke in, sounding genuinely sympathetic for how upsetting this might be. "Not when she had you. She was a girl, and she loved being a girl so much she stayed that way long enough to have you. She hated having to give you up, but she knew it was for the best."
"You knew her?"
He nodded. "She was one of the original group fighting against the corruption of the Company, working with the people who would become the Alliance. She was... incredible."
"Was," I said. I knew what it meant by using the past tense, and his sad nod confirmed it. Gone, one of my old dreams. Not that I resented the people who raised me, but I always did have, in the back of my mind, the idea that one day I would find my real parents. "What about my father?"
"She never said," he said. "It wasn't me, I was out of the country when she started. We have no records of him. I'm not even sure she knew." He knew her first hand, at the time I was born... he was either pretty young then, or he was even older than I thought.
"Wait," I said, suddenly realizing something else wasn't adding up. "If we only turn into a girl three days a month, and we revert back... how could my Mom have been an Anne?"
Stanley said, "There are ways to put off the change. Silver, chiefly, if worn against the skin it prevents you from changing." He tapped his glasses, and I realized then that they had silver rims and earpieces. "Trying to stay a man is a balancing act, you never lose your time as a little girl, just postpone it."
"If you want to stay in your girl form, that's easier... and if you're in Anne form long enough, you can get pregnant," Pierre explained.
"The interesting thing is," said little Barbara, "natural born Lolly Annes are rare. Firstly, it has to be a boy child."
"What, there aren't women who turn into little boys?"
"The Complimentary Curse? Everybody asks about that. But no, we've never found anything like that. Or ones that turn into little girls, either. The Lolly Anne curse is targeted only at men. Although if that were to change, it would be with an Alpha." I looked at Barbara uncomprehendingly. "Another word for natural borns. Alphas, if they inherit the curse at all..."
"Only about one in three do," Pierre jumped in. "The others seem to be inoculated, and cannot even be deliberately converted."
Barbara continued, "If they do get the curse, sometimes there are... mutations."
My voice wavered. "Mutations?"
"Nothing like shooting lasers from your eyes or telekinesis. Just... changes, to the usual rules of the curse. On our side, we've got one who spends a whole month as a girl, then a year in his normal form, and one who doesn't seem to have the normal sex drive. I know a neutral who becomes a new girl each time he changes, and there are plenty of Alphas among the unaffiliated that we don't even know about. The Company has a lot more, they had a breeding program for a while... there's even a Company agent who turns into twins, as hard as it is to believe."
Erica piped up, "They've also got a girl who keeps her adult-sized dick through transformations. I've thought about switching teams just for her."
Pierre got a prissy disappointed look, like he'd sucked on a lemon. "Don't talk like that."
"I was joking!" she said exasperatedly.
"Don't even joke about it."
Erica rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'd never really switch sides. I'd love to get her to defect, though. Best of both worlds, am I right?"
Barbara looked between the two of them, briefly annoyed at the continuing interruption, and continued, "Changes to the cycle duration are by far the most common variation, but the chance for something really dramatic keeps them especially interested in Alphas."
"Us, too," Adam said. "That's how we found you so fast. We keep tabs on all of the children of Lolly Annes we know about, even the ones like you we thought didn't inherit the curse. We hope one day they might contribute to finding a cure."
The news that they didn't think I inherited the curse was at that point less important than the other bit of information he revealed. "You keep tabs on us?"
"Nothing creepy. We don't have you followed or anything like that. But your name and address are in a system. Anytime it hits the news or a government computer, police or social services, we know about it. And when the police got a call about a little girl being abused in your home... well, it's not a big leap to assume what happened. Perhaps all natural borns really do inherit the curse, and instead of manifesting at the usual time, some just require some extra trigger." He grinned widely for the first time. "You change all the rules. Isn't it exciting?"
Exciting? Did he have no compassion? "Yes, I'm thrilled," I said through gritted teeth. "So, how did the Company find me, then? The same way?"
"Possibly," Pierre said, but I could tell he wasn't confident about it. "They do look for the same types of things we do... they've got people in their pocket who inform them of such things, and they go after any Anne who hits the radar. They might not even know you're an Alpha."
"No," Maria said. "I'm convinced they knew what they were after. If they just thought it was a neutral Anne, they wouldn't have come on so strong." She looked at me, and explained, for my benefit, "Normally it's too risky to make a scene over a new Lolly Anne. If we approach one before they do, they might turn on the charm, and try to tempt you over to their side, but unless it was completely private, they'd probably let you go without violence." Now she was addressing the whole group. "No, I'm sure, they knew they had a potential Alpha, which means either they had our list of the children of Annes, or somebody on the inside told them after I was sent out. Either way, it means in somebody in the Alliance has betrayed us. Again."
"Indeed," Adam said. "I'd hoped last month's incident was an anomaly, but I don't think it can be ignored."
"We don't know for sure," Pierre said. "They were familiar with his mother, they might have simply had Michael's name on their own. But you're right, we can't afford to take the risk. That's why I thought we should hold the meeting here."
"Normally our meet-and-greets are a lot less formal and a lot more fun," Erica said. "There's even gift bags."
Pierre brightened. "We still have one of those," he said. "Adam, you keep starter kits here, right?"
Adam nodded. "Yes, it should be in the store-room."
"Erica?" Pierre suggested.
She stuck her tongue out. "You get it yourself. I'm not even sure where the store room is in this place."
Pierre sighed, but got up and headed towards the back. "So now that you've got me here," I asked. "What do you do with me?"
"That's up to you," Maria said. "I mean, obviously, we're going to need to put you in protective custody until you change back, but after that, you can probably return to your own life."
I hadn't had to think about it until then, but now that seemed impossible. "My own life? My life's ruined. My girlfriend's never going to forgive me, the police are probably after me thinking I'm a pedophile..."
"It's not like we don't have experience with this problem," Barbara said. "You can tell your girlfriend that you weren't even home last night, and if a girl showed up in your apartment she must have been a street kid. We'll even handle the cops, and we've got a guy who'll give you a perfect alibi... and O'Brien'll create a fake identity for your girl form, too, make sure you don't accidentally wind up in the wrong place."
"Actually," Maria said, "I think it would be better if we use someone else... Walters."
"You sure?" Barbara asked. "He's an independent..."
"Exactly. For all I know, O'Brien's the leak, and even if he isn't... he talks too much. Walter's independent, but sympathetic to our side, he does good work, and he'll keep his mouth shut if we pay his price."
"Are you willing to pay what he'll ask?" Adam asked. "Beyond the money, I mean."
Maria shrugged. "It's no big deal."
"Your call," Adam decided. "I trust your judgment."
"So this... Walters guy will fix it? So I can just go back to my life?"
Adam shrugged. "If that's what you want. Of course, with your new condition it might be difficult to maintain a truly normal life. You'll have to make sure you get days off when you change. That's why I think your best option is to come work for me."
Adam shrugged. "We'll find something. I have many companies. Some of them you can even continue to work whether you're a little girl or not. We're not asking you to become an agent, although that might be an option if you turn out to have the aptitude."
"Found it!" Pierre announced, returning with a small pink backpack. "I'm sorry it took so long." He held the pack towards me like a present. "This is for you."
"What's in it?"
He sat down beside me and unzipped it. "Everything a little girl needs for her first three days. Three pairs of shirts, three pairs of panties, three pairs of socks, and three pants." They were all rolled up into little tubes for easier transportation. Lipgloss and makeup if you want to experiment with that. Most importantly, there's this." He held up a small metal piece of jewlery, something that looked like several rings stacked together.
"A bracelet. Or an anklet. It's silver, or at least the inner surface is. If you want to hold off your scheduled transformation for a few days, or stay as a little girl a little longer, you wear this and tighten it until it fits." He demonstrated, the ring shrinking as he pressed the middle, like a pair of handcuffs, although not as inescapable... simply popping a bead on the outside returned it to being open. "The clothes are meant to be temporary... they're yours to keep, of course, but you may find your own style and you may not want to keep them around your home. The silver bracelet you will want, for scheduling if nothing else. There are other methods, but this is good to start with."
"Yeah, I guess it could come in handy. Hard to explain wearing to bed to somebody," I said, but then smiled. 'But I guess it's easier than explaining how I transformed into a girl."
"That's another thing, by the way," Maria explained. "You have to be alone when you transform."
"What happens if I'm not?"
Barbara explained. "It won't happen. But it's very uncomfortable. Unless you're wearing silver, you probably won't be able to sleep if you're scheduled to transform and somebody's too close, and there'll be a strong urge to find somewhere private to hole up. It's just one of those things."
"There's a pamphlet in the backpack," Pierre said. "Detailing everything else you should know about your conditions... although it is designed for recruits, not natural borns."
Because natural borns usually manifested long before me, I assumed... there was a usual way, something they'd have watched out for. I looked down at the bracelet that I now held in my hand, thinking it over and pieces clicking into place. They keep tabs on Alphas, and expect them to turn into little girls at the same time, or under the same circumstances. Which meant they would be in my life at that time, and I'd met Pierre before... when he was Mr. Nabokov. Father to Jenny. "They transform on their first time, don't they?"
"Not on," Adam said. "Shortly after. At least, normally. Once again, you change the rules on that."
I locked eyes with Pierre, who looked resigned and a little guilty. He must have known where my mind was. "Jenny was one of you, wasn't she?"
"Jenny?" Erica asked, and then her mouth formed into a comical 'o' shape as she figured it out.
"Yes," Pierre said. "I'm very sorry. There's much about our condition that is unpleasant, but one of the ones that bothers me the most is that it forces us to take actions that are... the lesser evil."
"That's why we're looking for a cure," Adam said.
Pierre ignored the interruption. "We find it's kindest to have our people to shepherd natural born Lolly Annes through their first change, and that means triggering it ourselves, under controlled conditions. That means getting to them before anybody else does, and it would be wrong to send a real child after them, so..."
"So where is Jenny now? Is she still around?"
"No," Pierre said. "I wish I had an answer for you, I truly do. Jenny went off-the-grid several years ago, and we haven't seen either her real form or her Anne form since. I don't even know if she's still alive."
I felt like crying, and in fact felt myself tearing up. I'm a little more emotional as a girl, but still, it was my first time, the summer romance I always wondered about, the girl I still, secretly, dreamed of running into one day as an adult and her being my true love... and she was really some guy. Not just that, on her side, there probably wasn't any love at all. "So I was just a mission to her."
"She did like you, I know that much. She was disappointed that you didn't turn, even wanted to try again... but we had to move her on. We don't condone sex with real children... it's just sometimes it's the lesser evil."
I felt one hand on my knee, looked, and saw it was Maria, staring at me with sympathetic eyes, and it was somehow more comforting than any of the words Pierre had said. I took in a deep breath and tried to suck back my tears, my hurt. "What now?"
Maria answered. "Now we take you to get you an alibi and an identity, and then to a safe house."
"A safe house?"
"For you to spend until you're back to being Michael..." She looked around the room. "I know this is a little unusual, but because of the leaks and because Michaela's an Alpha, I'd like to keep this to as few people as possible, say two outside, two inside?"
"I'll assign two of my private security, for outside." Adam suggested. "If they've been compromised, I'd be dead by now."
Maria nodded, scratching her nose. "Yeah, good call. That means we just need two agents inside, and I'd like to keep them between us. Anyone here on the Inner Circle not able to pull a chaperone shift over the next few days?" Adam raised his hand, but he was the only one. "I didn't really think you would," Maria said with a smile, and then looked to me. "I guess this should be your choice."
"Everyone here's a trained agent, and can protect you if it becomes necessary... but for chaperone duty, you should think about things like, who you'd most like to have sex with. The urges are going to strike you. How you fulfill them is up to you. Two of the guys? Or would you prefer to be with Barbara and Erica, for a more womanly touch? Or one guy, one girl?"
"What about you? Aren't you coming?"
"Sorry, kid. I can't..."
A rush of panic welled up in me. "But... I don't want you to go... I don't know any of these people, and I thought you were going to stay with me and..." The words came out in an anxious flood.
"Awww, isn't that cute," Erica said. "Looks like she's imprinted on you already..."
"Shut up," Maria said, and turned to face me, taking in one of her little soft hands my own, calming me a little. "I can't, Michaela. I'll go with you to get your alibis sorted out, and take you to the safehouse myself, but after that, I have to go. I'll try to look in on you, but... I change back tonight. Tomorrow I'll be Mario again."
It was strange, but it felt a little like she was saying she going to die, that feeling that I was going to lose her. In some ways, I guess I was, she was going to become a different person, and there are a few emotional changes that go along with the curse, aside from the increased sex drive. At that point I'd never seen another person who'd gone through a change... I've seen men who claimed they became girls, and girls who claimed they were really men most of the time, but I'd never met anyone who was a little girl and met them again when they were a man. Maybe I wouldn't even like Mario. When I was Michael, I certainly wouldn't be attracted to him, or at least I hoped I wouldn't be... but I didn't want to lose Maria.
Pierre cleared his throat. "I'd like to volunteer. I can tell you more about your mother, and Jenny, if you'd like."
Irrationally, I hated him right then, just for a second. Maybe it wasn't so irrational, I still had a lot of anger for the way he ruined my memory of my first time. No longer was it a beautiful story of lost love, the 'one who got away', it was someone using me. Yet, I did want to hear more about her, and my mother, just... "Not right away. I'm still processing that. Maybe another time." And I wasn't sure I ever wanted to have sex with him, at least not if my hormones weren't running out of control.
He looked disappointed, but nodded. "I understand."
Looking at the others, I nervously asked, "So, uhm, does anybody else want to be with me?" I didn't want to force myself on anybody, or be a chore.
The two girls hands went up quickly. The guys were a little more reticent, but they went up too. I looked them over, realizing that, perhaps for the first time in my life, I was the chooser, not the one hoping to be chosen. All of these people wanted to be with me, and it was my decision which would get the chance... or at least, who would get the chance first. Still, it felt incredibly empowering, and I decided to make the choice as selfishly as possible. If Maria wasn't an option, I'd choose who I was most interested in.
My first instinct was to choose the two girls. I still thought of myself as a man, and so, just out of habit, I considered them first. They were very pretty girls... were I still in a male body, the thought of them sexually servicing me would give me an erection, a shameful one, hidden from everybody else, but an erection all the same. Yet, instead of an erection, I felt a little bit of an antsy heat, centering around my hole, a hole I knew I wanted filled, and their fingers were small and delicate and didn't seem like they'd do the job, not as much as I wanted them to.
So I looked to the men... for all that they were hesitant about volunteering, some of them seemed pathetically eager to be accepted, and I wanted to make them happy. That thought turned me on almost as much as the thought of them penetrating me.
I decided I'd go with one girl, one guy, the best of both worlds. Out of the girls, I could either have Erica or Barbara. I liked Erica's bubbly spirit, but there was something about the redhead's more reserved demeanor that made me want to have her, to see what she was like when the urges struck her. "Okay, how about Barbara, and..." I hesitated over the second choice a little longer. Would it be totally slutty to ask to see their cocks? I thought it might be. Of course, I was doomed to be a slut regardless, if what they said was true, at least while I was a little girl. Still, if I was going to be a slutty little girl, I'd rather be one for people who reminded me of myself.
Ironically, Adam might have been my first choice, if he hadn't disqualified himself, and if he had been a little nicer. Not because he was in charge, but he was the guy that, if we found ourselves meeting at a big stuffy social function, I could see myself gravitating towards because we both looked uncomfortable... that he was good looking in a boyish sort of way didn't hurt either. Of the other guys, the one who was the best looking, Mel, looked a bit like a jerk... I'm sure he was perfectly pleasant, but he had the look of those entitled jocks I knew in high school who could have everything and yet still made life difficult for other people. The others, I didn't get much of a read off of... Malcolm, though, struck me as the kind of guy I could have a beer with. I tried not to think about how the last guy I thought that about turned out to be a rapist and murderer as I said his name. He smiled kindly at being chosen.
"Which safehouse, do you think?" Adam asked. "Tango?" Maria shrugged. "Tango it is. I'll have my men waiting outside... You know what, just in case, I'll also station teams at other locations in the city. We can change every day, if it makes you feel better."
"Clearly I'm too new at the Inner Circle stuff," Erica said. "I don't even know where Tango is."
"I'll give you a briefing once we conclude here," Pierre promised.
"I'd rather that be now," Maria said. "This place isn't entirely secure either. Even if we weren't followed, too many of our people know we're meeting here and if one of them's the leak, they already know where we are. The longer we wait, the more time the Company has to put things together. A new Alpha, and Adam, all in one place? It might be too tempting to pass up for long. They might even have watchers on the building already."
"I think that's a little paranoid..."
"I'd rather be paranoid and wrong than underprepared and wrong."
"I have to be going anyway," Adam said. "My meeting."
"Malcolm? Can you drive us?"
Barbara begged off on coming with us, wanting instead to check on the safehouse in advance, taking Samuel along with her, and so after a few minutes of logistics and goodbyes, and I had another finger sandwich and some bottled water to wash it down with, Maria and I were in the back of Malcolm's car. He was driving, and talking... trying to find common ground. "Mets or Yankees?" he asked.
I wasn't all that into baseball before I was a girl. Or most sports, for that matter... I watched the Superbowl for the spectacle, and occasionally I liked basketball or hockey, both of which at least were fast-paced, but for the most part I didn't have much interest. Maybe, I wondered briefly, I was better off being a girl. Girls usually didn't even have to pretend to care. Still, I could tell he was at least trying to make it easier on me, so instead of shutting him down, I said, "Mets, I guess."
"See, I knew I was going to like you. You understand that there's more to the game than flash. Maria here likes the Yankees."
"Nothing wrong with wanting to root for a team that has a shot," she said calmly. "And nothing sillier than hating them just because they're winners."
"I don't dislike the Yankees," I said suddenly, a strange desire to please her. The only reason I chose the Mets was because Yankees fans were more in-your-face. "I guess I just root for the underdog."
Maria just gave me a dismissive nod, put her phone in her lap and said, "I better call ahead, let him know we're coming," while she dialed.
While Maria spoke quietly with whoever was on the other end, Malcolm tried to engage me in more small-talk, starting with where I grew up. We'd both grown up in New York, and at times we lived within a few blocks of each other, but always went to different schools and, as far as we could determine, never crossed paths. He told me he was turned into a Lolly Anne while he was in his first year of college, and then launched into a story about how he was gangbanged by some of his fraternity brothers at a keg party. None of them knew the girl they'd fucked was Malcolm, he had a place to crash during his time of the month, but tried to sneak back in to get something from his room, and got caught. She let them trick her into strip pool and then did her on the table. His brothers used to tease him about the time he missed out on a hot slut who crashed the party. "Of course," he said, "they tried to tell me she was a high school senior, when anyone who looked at me would have known I wasn't even old enough to be out of middle school yet."
The tale had me squirming in my seat rubbing my thighs against each other so that the hot spot between my legs felt a little friction. It wasn't the story as much as imagining myself in that position, opening myself up to guys I knew, them not knowing who I really was, basically being used as a group fucktoy. "How many guys were there?" Meaning how many guys did she fuck or suck off.
"Only about six... They've run much bigger trains, but I guess they were afraid of getting caught by letting everybody in on such a little girl, so they kept it to just whoever was in the games room. I actually was caught before the party started, but they kept me locked in there and everyone else out, and fucked me while it got going."
"They kept you locked up?" I couldn't decide what was hotter, that or that it was going on while people were partying... the fact that they thought she was so young and then went ahead and used her sexually anyway.
"Well, sort of. It's not like I was trying to get away or anything. I was up for everything. If I really made a fuss about it they probably would have let me leave. They weren't bad guys, really."
"If they did that, they'd probably do it to a real girl," Maria said, having ended her conversation a couple minutes ago. "One who was too scared to say no."
"Maybe... but you can't arrest everybody who fucks your loli form," Malcolm said. "Where would we be without pervs?" Maria grimaced. "Don't mind Maria," he said to me. "When he was Mario, he used to be a cop."
My eyes widened in surprise. "You did?"
"Yeah." He didn't elaborate, but pointed ahead at a small apartment building. "There it is. Let us out out front and then find a place within sight of the doors."
"You sure you don't want me to come in with you?"
"I'd rather you keep watch. If anybody comes in, call me."
"It's an apartment building. People are going to come in."
"Anybody suspicious. Someone who doesn't have a keycard or shows up in a hurry." Malcolm sighed and pulled up at the curb, and then Maria grabbed my hand. "Come on Michaela, let's go."
At the vestibule, Maria pressed a number. There was no answer, just a buzz which indicated the door was open. We went in and got in the elevator. "So you were really a cop?"
"Yeah," she said again.
"But not anymore?" She shook her head. "What happened?"
"You don't exactly get to choose your schedule when you work for the NYPD. Not showing up three days in a row every month isn't really an option."
"Oh." It didn't seem like enough. "I'm sorry."
She shrugged. "I tried for a while, using silver to stave off becoming Maria, and I guess I could have kept doing it, but I accepted an offer to come work for Adam." The elevator dinged, and we got off, and walked a short distance down a hall before knocking on a door marked 302.
A few seconds later, a girl answered it. Our age, or maybe a little older, she had a mischievous-looking face with dancing eyes and a slightly upturned nose. She wore her dirty blonde hair in pigtails... not the long braided type of the Lolly Anne in the parking garage, but the kind that were just like long tufts of hair emerging from ribbons near the top of the head. Most impressively, though, she had boobs, or she had something the shape of them... they weren't huge, but there were two distinctly round shapes under her top, and she was the first Lolly Anne I'd met who had a body that looked like she was in the stages of puberty. Until then, I'd just assumed we were all flat. The girl wore a white shirt that left her belly exposed, and a ruffly rose-colored skirt, and, out-of-place on such a young girl, was wearing shiny black boots with a high heel, which made her seem to tower over us. A silvery chain hung around her neck, disappearing into the shirt. As she looked us over, the girl's pale lips were curled into a self-satisfied smile. "Well, well, well, if it isn't little Maria. It's good to see you after so long."
"Hello, Wanda." Maria didn't seem especially happy to see her.
"I go by Wendy now," she said.
"Are you going to let us in, or what?"
Wendy pouted. "What, no kiss hello first?" Getting no reaction, Wendy shrugged and retreated into the apartment, and I followed Maria after. "You were a lot more fun back in the day."
"Let's not drag this out," Maria said. "You know what I need."
"Yeah. This is the new fish. What's your name, honey?"
"Michaela," I said nervously, raising my hand to half-heartedly wave. I was going to compliment her on her place, just to be polite, but it just then struck me how bare it was. Beyond the kitchen, which was pretty well spotless, I could see a living area that had virtually no furniture, no crap on the floors, nothing. Likewise, there were no shoes piled up by the door, or jackets sticking out of the closet. Whoever lived here had either just arrived or was a minimalist neat freak.
"You're cute. First time as a loli?" The question jarred me out of the train of thought, and I nodded in response. "Don't worry, you'll get over being freaked out, and when you do, you can have a lot of fun." Her eyes darted to Maria. "Speaking of, you know what I want for this, right?"
"Yeah, I know. I'm willing."
"What's this?" She pointed to the bandage on Michaela's face. "We didn't agree on this."
"If it bothers you, I can do my part next month."
"Honey, I already made promises. I guess it's not that big a deal. I just wished you'd warned me. Little Michaela here must be really special to you," Wendy said, looking me over speculatively. I felt warm, even blushing a little, whether at being the center of attention or my growing awareness that taking me here had cost Maria something, which meant that I meant something to her. "What is she, family friend? Or..."
Maria answered quickly. "It's not her, it's us. I'm not sure I can trust our people right now, there've been some leaks. You and I don't... agree on a lot of things, but I know you can keep your mouth shut."
"I thought you liked me for just the opposite..." Wendy put two fingers up to her mouth like a V, and began wiggling her tongue in between them suggestively.
Maria rolled her eyes, and said "Can we get started?"
Wendy sighed. "Fine. Step in to my office, will you?"
She waved towards the living room area, and we followed her in, where I saw evidence that one of my initial guesses was closer to the mark. There wasn't any furniture, or any adornments at all, except a small fold-up table with a laptop on it, and a chair. On the floor rested a backpack.
"You live here?" I asked.
She laughed. "No, I just use it. Nobody's renting the apartment, got the super bribed to give me a head's up before anybody needs to get in, and I get good WiFi reception, which is all I need, really." She pointed to a wall. "Stand right there?"
I didn't know what she wanted, but I complied, and she retrieved a digital camera and snapped a picture. "Okay, another..." She clicked, and said, "Okay, this time, don't smile though." I hadn't realized I had been. "Just look kind of sad or zoned out. Like you're taking a driver's license photo." She took a picture. "Good. Now, let's change your shirt and do your hair, and take a few more."
"What are you doing?" I asked as she got up close and started to pull my shirt over my head. I let her, raising my arms up as high as they would go, and soon I was topless. Wendy tossed a shirt at me, a little big, but I didn't think it would show on my photo.
"Taking pictures for your file."
"What file?" I pulled the new shirt on top, while Wendy tugged at my hair. She made it into a ponytail and wrapped and elastic band to hold it in place.
At my question, Wendy looked at me as though wondering for a second if I was just playing dumb. "Let's say you're outside, as Michaela, and you get picked up by some concerned citizen. They want to bring you home, right? Except... you don't have a home. You don't exist. And maybe you can get away before they look too deeply into it, but if not, you're in trouble. So, what we do is, we create a file for you. Child Protective Services has already heard of you, you're a homeless orphan kid, or your dad's in prison, or something. You're just part of the system. They send you to yet another foster home, nobody pays much attention to you, maybe the foster dad's a little grabby but you don't really mind that, eventually you get out, and you're just another runaway. Get it?" She finished with my hair, then stepped back and took another picture.
"Oh, yeah, I guess."
"We've done this before, and I've got some connections on the inside, it's all pretty routine. Do you have a last name you want to use?"
"Uh...." I tried to think of one, but I was on the spot. "I don't know."
"You want me to pick one?" I nodded. "Okay, you're Michaela Johnson."
She chose it so quickly I was curious. "Why Johnson?"
"Second most common last name in the country. First most common is Smith, but that raises suspicions because it's too common." She giggled. "It's also a euphemism for penis."
I broke into my own giggle at that. "Okay, whatever."
She asked me a few more questions, than gave me my story. My mom died when I was too young to remember her, nobody knew my dad, and I'd been bounced around from home to home and lately started running away. "They see that story all the time."
"Okay, that's great," I finally got the nerve to say, "But I thought I was here for more than an identity as a girl. We're supposed to help sort out my real life."
Wendy nodded. "I'm getting to that. You've got a cell-phone?"
"Not on me."
"All I need's the number." I recited it, and she typed it into a computer. "Okay. When was the last time anybody saw you... or anyone you care about talked to you?"
"Yesterday at around... eight? Why?"
"I'm going to put a phone call in the records, one that gives you an alibi. It probably won't be necessary, but when you get your bill, you can show them. Now, hand me your credit card."
"Uh, I don't have that either."
She frowned and looked to Maria. "Really? Come on, this is basic stuff."
"She didn't know this was coming, and her girlfriend caught her in Anne form the next morning," Maria explained. "She left in a hurry before the police could get there."
"Really? You didn't know you were going to change?" I shook my head. She looked me over, like she was re-evaluating me. It seemed almost... predatory, for a second, but then the look vanished. "Okay. That's going to be a little trickier. Normally, the best way to build an excuse is to backdate some credit card charges in another city, make it look like you got called out of town, friend dragged you off to Atlantic City or something for the night, and you forgot your cell phone. Obviously, that's not going to work. People can forget their phone, but their wallet's another matter. We can work around that... but a convincing story is key... so, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?"
"I work for a company that does IT support for various companies that don't want to hire their own department, or need to supplement it. Some hosting, too."
She asked a few follow-up questions about the specifics, looked the place up online, and then took a few seconds and thought about it, finally coming up with an idea she liked. "That has potential," she said, to her own, as yet unvoiced idea, and then shared it. "Okay, it's a bit cheesy, but we can pull the terrorism card." She looked at Maria like she would understand what she meant, and then explained for my benefit. "We say the government needed to question you on a matter of national security. Maybe one of your customers had terrorist ties, or they were using your network to exchange messages, and you might have seen something vital. The feds couldn't risk the chance that you might be involved, or that you wouldn't accidentally talk to somebody who was, so they sequestered you for questioning for a few days while they sorted it out."
"So how do we do that?" I asked. "At least, without making me look like a suspected terrorist and a pedophile?"
She waved a hand dismissively. "The pedophile thing's easy to fix. We'll put in your file... Michaela Johnson's file, I mean, that you have a history of breaking into unoccupied homes instead of sleeping on the street. In fact, we'll even say she was picked up sometime today, and told them that she found an apartment window ajar and decided to stay there, raid the fridge, sleep in the bed, wash her clothes in the laundry room, at least until she got caught. My friend in CPS is willing to forge a few documents and make a few phone calls. Then you were put in another foster home and disappeared. You just give anybody who asks you about it the number to CPS and her case worker."
It might work, although I worried it would still leave me with a stain of suspicion that would never quite go away. "The terrorist thing sounds much harder, though. What, do you got friends in the department of homeland security, too?"
"None you should know about," she said, making me wonder. "That's the beauty of national security, though. Nobody wants to ask too many questions. All you need is a convincing person who looks like a government agent," she looked to Maria, before continuing, "Who warns your girlfriend that disclosing information about an ongoing investigation can result in serious criminal penalties, yadda yadda yadda." She grins. "Then you agree with your girlfriend that if anybody asks, you were dragged off to Atlantic City for three days by a friend. It's a perfect system, and since a real money trail isn't required, I don't even have to do much work." That particularly seemed to delight her.
"And yet you're still going to charge the same," Maria pointed out.
Wendy shrugged, unconcerned. "A girl's got to make a living. And you're paying me in damaged merchandise, aren't I allowed to cut some corners? Besides, Michaela's file is still going to keep me busy for a while... is there anybody else who's going to miss you? I mean, enough that they might not be satisfied with hints of terrorists or an Atlantic City adventure?"
I thought about it and, sadly, there didn't seem to be, except one. "Just my job. If they're supposedly being investigated, they'll have plenty of questions."
"They don't have to know. Are you supposed to work today?"
"No, but tomorrow..."
"Tomorrow is another day. You've got emergency sick time, right?"
"Yeah, but I'll need a doctor's note, and how am I going to call in...?"
"You don't have to. It's a big company. You can do it by e-mail." Wendy smiled a little. "You know what? I'll do it by e-mail, just so Maria has no cause to bitch about me not pulling my load. And... I'll fill up your voice mail so they won't be able to get in touch with you and it'll look like you're pretty much dead to the world. Doctor's notes are easy. Come visit me before you have to go back into work and I'll have a forged one. No extra charge."
"Okay," I said. "Thank you."
"I didn't do it for thanks. I plan to make plenty off this." She looked at Maria. "So, you agreed I've done my part?" She nodded. "Then you're ready?"
"I suppose," Maria said.
"Then let's step into my other office." She closed her laptop and slung it under her arm, then grabbed her backpack and headed for the bedroom.
"Stay here," Maria said. "We won't be too long."
Wendy had stopped just before the door. "She can come too, if she wants. Two is better than one."
"No," Maria said firmly. "It's just you and me."
"Don't you think it should be her decision? She might want to."
I just looked back and forth between the two of them, totally confused. "No," Maria said. "If she wants to some other time, that's her business, I guess. But I'm not going to let you prey on another new Lolly Anne her first time out."
"Prey on," Wendy repeated, rolling her eyes. "You're so overdramatic. Fine, we'll leave her out of it. I promise. But there's no reason she can't watch, if she wants."
Maria sighed, and I got the feeling she didn't want me to, but... I was just too curious. So when the two of them disappeared into the bedroom, I waited half a second and followed.
To my immense surprise, the bedroom was furnished like a normal room... or, at least, mostly. It had a bed, and posters on the wall of popular bands and a few cartoon characters, but one wall was completely bare except for another fold-up table. It was like somebody had made half the room look like a little girl's... but only half.
Like a movie set, I suddenly realized, when Wendy put her laptop down on the fold-up table. She worked on the computer for a minute, and then said, "Okay, we're ready to go live any second. Michaela?" I looked up. She pointed to a corner beside the fold-out table. "Stay in this corner, okay? Don't worry about being quiet, if anybody hears you and asks, we'll pretend you're just shy and want to watch but aren't ready to be on camera. If you want to sit, grab the chair from the other room, but do it now before we broadcast."
I thought about it and didn't think I'd need one, so I stood in my little corner. From this angle, I could ignore the half that wasn't decorated and imagine I really was just in an average girl's bedroom. "What are you broadcasting?"
"Just a little girl-on-girl fun for a few exclusive clients."
Maria glowered. "Can we just get this over with?"
"Okay, but remember to smile. We want them to think you're into this."
Maria put on a smile... one that didn't reach her eyes, but a smile nonetheless, and Wendy started up her little webcam show. "Hello everybody, it's me, Wendy, your favorite little webcam star." Wendy's smile was genuine-looking, seeming excited, but a little smug, like she had a secret. "And today, I've got a special guest!" She stepped back so the camera could see the rest of the room, and put an arm around Maria's shoulders. "This is Maria, my good friend, and I've been telling her about the kind of stuff we do, and we're going to have some fun today." Maria waved nervously.
At first the fun seemed innocent, or almost that way... enough that I thought it might be. The two didn't do anything outrageous right away, they just danced together, goofily, like any two kids might do for an imagined audience. Wendy started the dance, and Maria was urged to join in, which she did, a little awkwardly, but willingly. The worst they did was show their bellies, in Maria's case by tying up her shirt under where her boobs would be.
"Okay, you guys know how this works. When you donate enough, we'll start doing dares," Wendy said, looking close at the screen. "And it looks like we've already got enough for our first level dares. That's either showing bra, or showing panties, or a kiss."
"I'm not wearing a bra," Maria pointed out.
"Oh really?" Wendy said with a smirk. "Well, they haven't donated enough to see your boobies, so I guess it's panties or a kiss."
"A kiss, I guess." Wendy leaned forward, and Maria closed her eyes, and their lips met slowly, and held. It was a very chaste kiss, no tongue, more cute than anything else, except for one thing. After their lips touched, Wendy's hand ascended and squeezed Maria's chest, right where boobs would be if she had any.
This made Maria pull away. "Don't be shy, girl, we're going to have to do a lot more if we're going to make the real bucks." Another check to the screen confirmed they were ready for level two, which supposedly was flashing bare ass, bare chest, or making out with tongue.
"I'll show my chest, I guess," Maria suggested. She got ready, by unbuttoning her shirt and letting it hang loosely. Wendy readied herself too, although in her case it was by reaching under her shirt and waiting for Maria so they would both show at the same time.
It was only for a few seconds that they did it, but it was exciting to watch all the same. Wendy had the better boobs, and they were real, or at least mostly real. I had wondered if she simply stuffed, but no, when she raised her shirt and bra, it was clear she had genuine breasts, small ones that I might have called large buds except they were a perfect shape already and, although I didn't have much experience with underage chests, I always assumed, perhaps from the name, that buds were more pointy, first growing outward rather than developing their form. The nipples were dark red with a lighter ring around them. Also revealed was the silver cross she had on under her shirt. Knowing what I now do about silver, I wondered if Wendy was trying to stay a girl for some reason.
Though Wendy's breasts were better, I was more curious about Maria's... maybe I really was imprinted on her, like Erica said. Wendy actually had boobs, after all, and Maria was about as flat-chested as I was, but it was still more exciting to see what she had under her shirt. Her nipples were sort of brownish, but with very small areolas, and all of one uniform color, and they stuck out a little. I thought they were cute, and felt a fleeting urge to kiss them.
Level two dares could be done multiple times, because apparently level three cost a lot more. So, they did each show ass (Wendy's was more defined, but again, I thought Maria's was far cuter), and made out, tongues partially extended and wrapping around each other, for an uncomfortably hot thirty seconds, and then flashed their chests again, before level three hit.
Level three included my brief fantasy, kissing each other's nipples, which they did with a giggle like they were real girls who knew they were being a little naughty, and showing pussy. I'd seen Maria's, but I licked my lips at the chance to see it again when she raised her skirt. Wendy waited for Maria to display first, and then showed her own, which had more of a floral look, with lips that hung out a little. She wasn't satisfied to just flash, either, she put her fingers right in there and spread the lips, just for a second.
Showing pussy seemed to inspire donations, because things progressed swiftly from there. Before long, they had shed the clothes completely and were walking around naked, except Wendy kept her boots on, and were spreading their labia for a close-up for the camera, pressing their chests together, or their butts, and soon moved up to full on a half minute of full-fledged masturbating, followed by the two of them sitting on the bed and rubbing each other's pussies.
It was at this point I started masturbating myself. It wasn't that the sight was hot... well, it was, certainly, as embarrassing as it was to admit, seeing two obviously underage girls fingering each other was beautiful and got my heart pumping, not the least of which was because of the taboo, that this was not something anybody should be seeing, or want to see without being a pariah to society, and yet plenty of people were doing just that. The fact that I was only watching, off to the side, that I might as well have just been on the other side of the webcam, also played a role. It was like I was getting a little illicit, voyeuristic thrill. All of that played into what got me aroused... but mostly, it was imagining myself there, somebody stroking my pussy, an idea that now was no longer merely hypothetical. I had a pussy. I didn't have to just imagine, I knew what it felt like when a set of tiny fingers rubbed it. Just like a guy jacks off to the sight of somebody else's cock being pleasured, imagining it's him, I couldn't help but think about Maria's fingers rubbing me. Or Wendy's, in truth my fantasies went back and forth, but mostly it was Maria I was focused on, remembering our time in the hallway.
So, watching her rubbing Wendy in the same way, I popped the button on my jeans and slid my hand into my panties. I was surprised at how wet my panties were. Before I started masturbating, I'd been clenching my upper thighs, squeezing my mound between them, just to provide a little bit of release of tension before I finally went all-out and into my jeans, but I had no idea how moist this was making me until I felt it firsthand. My fingers went underneath me and came back slick... and I smelled them, but they didn't seem to have much smell, at least beyond the smell of my own fingers, which surprised and disappointed me. Maybe it was just that you couldn't really appreciate your own smell, or maybe I really just didn't have much. Regardless, I was having a lot more fun rubbing myself than I was smelling myself, so I returned to that, while I watched the show from backstage.
Wendy noticed me first, and nudged Maria with an elbow. She looked over to me a second, and then away, but from that moment, I noticed she'd glance over in my direction on a regular basis. Of course, there were more things that they had to do besides watching me. Apparently in Wendy's little game, they reached a point where people donated more money to suggest 'big dares'. These ones, there was no choices, if somebody paid, the two of them had to do it, as long as it was deemed safe, and Wendy would have to refund the money if they did that. The first of these was when they came real close to the camera, and so to me, and in turn, each took a long lick of the other's pussy.
It must have been an act... Maria seemed to have no problems licking my pussy earlier, but when she did Wendy's, she hesitated, like she thought this might be the point she was going to back out of whatever deal she made, but finally gave in. Wendy's turn was definitely playing to the camera in a different way. She smirked at her viewers like it was something she'd done many times before but still found funny, and then let her tongue snake out and into the hole, lingering there, causing Maria to stand on her tiptoes.
Maria's apparent reluctance must have inspired the next big dare, which was to eat Wendy out. He wanted it in a very specific position, though, with Wendy sitting on the bed, legs spread, still with the boots on, and Maria on her knees between them. It specified that she had to lick until Wendy came, and Wendy seemed to be quite far from that, she sat calmly, proudly, one hand on Maria's head, looking like a little loli-dominatrix getting serviced. She suddenly grinned at me as though she could read my mind and was saying "yeah, that's right, this bitch is mine."
I watched that scene, masturbating probably as furiously as many of the people watching over the Internet, but in my case, there would be no satisfaction. Or at least, that's what they said. We can't reach orgasm on our own... and yet I was inspired to try anyway. How hard could it be? And if it was impossible, how close could I get, how long could I stay on the edge without being able to tip over? Would that be heaven, or hell?
Either way, I couldn't stop myself from experimenting with it, as part of the sexual urges that come with being a Lolly Anne, I had to do something with what I was watching, just like Maria had to reach beneath her and between her legs and rub her own pussy while she was licking Wendy's. That wasn't just a show for the audience, she must have been in the grip of the same arousal that had overwhelmed me.
Soon Wendy closed her eyes, and the self-satisfied look faded, her mouth opened, and she repeated the syllable 'ah' several times, each at a higher pitch, and her body quivered in pleasure as an orgasm rocked through her. I envied her. I was just horny as fuck, so aroused that all I could think about was sex, that I wanted to crawl under Maria's legs and stick my tongue in her pussy and make her cum while Wendy did, in the hopes they'd do the same for me, but I couldn't get over that crucial hump. It was neither heaven, nor hell, as it turned out, more like purgatory... stuck waiting and unable to change it, and unable to think of much else. Even though it felt good, that was no state for a human to be in, it was probably the closest I'd ever be to feeling like an animal. I felt like I knew why dogs humped legs... because there was an itch, and the only thing there was room for in their minds was trying to scratch it, even if they couldn't do it in the way they really wanted.
With her orgasm, Wendy's dare was over, and so, it seemed was her in the dominant role... at least temporarily. The next big dare was that Maria had to spank her, ten times. The two girls exchanged a look after reading that dare aloud, and then Wendy shrugged and climbed back on the bed, ass facing out this time, while Maria hit her, ten hard slaps with the palm of her hand, right on the ass. Each one caused Wendy to call out in a sharp yelp of pain. Maria didn't seem happy about it, or unhappy, her face was like stone... this task didn't even inspire her to masturbate, and I found myself stopping temporarily as well, even when the girl getting spanked turned her head to the side and I could see a smile on it, or she wiggled her ass between smacks.
After all ten were delivered, Wendy moaned and rolled over, rubbing where Maria had been smacking, and moved to give the camera a close-up of it, especially pointing out where it turned red. "I hope you're happy, I'm going to have trouble sitting down to dinner tonight." Only Maria and I could see her smiling as she said it, and she even gave me a little wink. "I think we just have time for one more big dare, and then Maria has to go. So, next one decides." She only waited a few seconds, and read off, "Why don't you show her how you use some of your toys?" Her eyes lit up. "How about it, Maria? You want to see some of my favorite extra-special toys?"
"Ummm... okay, sure."
"You have to play with them how I say, okay?"
"I guess. If it's a dare."
"It is. Okay R-G-1982, your dare is the last of today. But the rest of you can keep donating. Remember, the more money we earn, the more likely Maria... or maybe one of her friends... will want to come play again." Wendy went to the backpack, at the bottom of her fold-up table, and pulled out a long slim silver rod, with a point at the end. A vibrator. I knew what it was, of course, but I'd actually never seen one in person, as sheltered as that makes me sound. My girlfriends, if they ever used them, kept them well-hidden, and I was always too nervous to buy one myself, for fear someone might think I was sticking it up my ass.
If I had any doubts about what it was, they were erased when Wendy turned a switch on the end and it began to buzz loudly. "Rub this up and down your pussy," she said, tossing it to Maria. "I'll get my other toy ready.
I watched as Maria picked up the vibrating wand, looking at it cautiously, and then, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs spread, she carefully touched it to her glistening slit, and brushed her clit. Immediately, her mouth opened wide in a gasp and she doubled over, like the sensation was too much for her to handle. The only thing that made you think it was pleasure instead of pain was the delight in her eyes and the way she went right back to it after initially pulling away. She couldn't seem to keep her eyes open the second time, aimed lower down, avoiding the clit, and just enjoying the sensation.
So was I, albeit the sensation I was experience wasn't quite so intense, nor was it battery-powered. My fingers, having taken a little break while the spanking was going on, were once again trying to prove that it was possible for me to orgasm alone, once again getting me to the purgatory of all-consuming desire, as I watched Maria reaching the same point. Maybe she might pass the point... did vibrators count, I wondered? Could I get over the hump if I walked over there, straddled her, and shared the vibrator between our mounds. For a moment I considered it, despite knowing that she didn't want me on camera. The leg-humping impulse was almost too strong to resist.
Staring at Maria enjoying the sensations of a toy I now envied more than any childhood toy I ever remembered wanting, I had stopped paying attention to Wendy, who was still working in her bag. When she stood up again, she had a cock.
Not a real one, of course, but a strap-on, a rubbery black appendage that was shaped very much like a man's long dick. It waved back and forth while she walked, now attracting all of Maria's attention, and mine as well. I flashed back to what Erica said about a Lolly Anne who had a real one... what would that feel like?
"Okay, Maria. First you're going to suck on this, get it good and wet with your slobber. Pretend it's a guy you like at school." Maria's eyes were wide, but she complied, opening her mouth wide enough to get the head in, her lips wrapping around it tightly. Wendy pumped her hips forward, making a bulge in Maria's cheek that was impressive, and she let out a little, stifled moan before the cock withdrew.
"Okay, get on your hands and knees," Wendy advised. "Keep the vibrator ready, and keep it on your slit, it'll make it much better, okay?" Maria nodded, and assumed a doggy style position, except one hand was between her legs with a silver wand that buzzed furiously. "Now I'm going to fuck you, like a boy. Just remember what you're doing this for." Me... she was doing it for me, wasn't she? Not that it seemed like much of a sacrifice at the moment.
The black rubbery dick pushed its way into Maria's hole, slowly at first, but then once it had gotten half way in, Wendy pulled it most of the way out and went in much farther and faster. "Oh god," Maria yelled, and Wendy grabbed onto her ass, a hand in each cheek, and began a regular, rhythmic humping that must have been a familiar habit from when she was a man.
With a fake cock in her pussy and the silver wand vibrating around her clit, Maria came very quickly, although it sounded like whimpering you could see it in her eyes and body how overwhelmed with pleasure she is. "You like that?" Wendy asked. She had a delighted, maybe even demented grin on her face, her loose pigtails waving about wildly. "You like me fucking you like a slut?"
"Uh-huh," Maria cried when she could.
"You want some more?" Maria repeated the sound. "Then tell me, ask me to fuck you."
"Keep fucking me, please." It was went on for another few minutes, and I think Maria had at least one, maybe two more orgasms before she finally dropped the vibrator. It rolled off the bed and clattered on the floor, and kept clattering as the motor inside it kept moving. Maria's arms looked like they could no longer support her, although her ass was in the air and Wendy was still fucking her pussy, Maria's face and chest were buried in the bedspread.
Finally, Wendy pulled out, a huge grin on her face, pushed Maria over and wiped the rubber dick on her face, before picking the vibrator off the floor. She turned it off and said to the camera, "Okay, I guess that's enough for today. Did you enjoy your first show, Maria?" Maria pulled herself into a seated position and shrugged, unsmiling. "Aww, she doesn't want to say. How cute. Well, bye guys. Until next time, this is your Willing Wendy, signing off. Peace out." Wendy flashed an improvised gang sign and then ran to press a button on the mouse, then suddenly straightened up and started undoing the clasps that kept the strap-on connected. "Thanks Maria, you were just perfect."
"So what was that about?" I grunted, hand still in my panties, still unsatisfied, still trying to get there, but now willing to concede the point... if I could possibly have given myself an orgasm, surely I would have while watching Wendy fucking Maria with a big rubber penis.
"Oh, just a way to make some extra cash off my condition. You'd be surprised how much perverts are willing to pay for the feeling of control. You should come by some time and join me. Normally I split the take of two-girl shows, unless I'm doing freebee work in exchange. I also do some prostitution, if you're interested, it's a good way to make your Lolly Anne days really profitable."
"She's not," Maria said. I was considering it, though. If we get super horny this often, and we need somebody else to relieve it, what's wrong with making a little money off it? It's like letting somebody pay you to let them cook you a great dinner... you'd almost have to be crazy not to go for it.
That was mostly my hot, wet, pussy talking, though. It was all I could do not to ask if they'd help. "So, what now?"
"Now we go," Maria said. "Get you to... where you're going next. We've been here too long as it is."
"So soon?" Wendy asked. "Don't you have any sympathy? Can't you see your friend here got herself all worked up? And you're not even going to help her finish?"
Maria sighed and looked at me. "Well, I was going to do it in the car but... do you want to cum now?"
"Yes," I cried urgently.
Wendy grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet, and then pushed me towards the bed. "If time's a factor, she can use the vibrator. It probably won't take you very long. She's practically ready to pop."
I sat on the bed, which was a lot less comfortable than it looked... it sagged a little too much, like the mattress was just really old and lost its spring. Still, I didn't need to sleep in it. Maria helped slide my jeans and panties down my legs, and Wendy handed me the silvery vibrator. "Will... this work?" I asked. "I thought we couldn't get off on our own."
"It won't work on your own," Wendy said. "But if we're with you, it will." I felt Maria's hand on my bare leg, and I could almost believe it. Already I felt a little closer than I'd been from what felt like hours of masturbating. "Turn it on."
The switch was pretty simple, on the back, and it came alive in my hands, vibrating like its name implied. It was a little stronger than an electric toothbrush, it felt almost like when I used to mow lawns as a kid. The whole engine within made the handle shake subtly, which, if you held on it too long, made your hands feel like they were buzzing for minutes afterwards. This wasn't quite that powerful, either, but it was close.
Tentatively, I lowered the device between my legs. Maria's head was now resting on my thigh, watching, but perhaps more importantly, reminding me of her presence, or completing some circuit in my head that would finally allow me to cum. The moment the buzzing silvery tip made the contact with my pussy, it was like I was in another world. The buzzing seemed to take over my whole body, like somehow, impossibly, I was the one vibrating and it was staying still. Virtually everything else in my perception was blotted out, except that shaking, the feeling of a cheek on my thigh, and the pleasure that was growing to a climax.
It only took a few seconds from there to reach it, and I cried out. The orgasm was intense and mind-blowing, but it didn't last as long as my last one did, and soon I was ready to remove the vibrator... although I might have been able to cum again, what I was feeling felt like it could tip over into pain at any moment.
My eyes opened, and I saw Wendy, about to lower herself over me. "Okay, now, my turn..."
The pussy got closer and I opened my mouth, my tongue extended, ready to do one more task, when suddenly she was gone. Maria had pushed her away. "I told you, you leave her out of it. Besides, you've already had your turn." She pulled me to my feet, and said, "Come on Michaela, get dressed."
As I pulled my panties and pants back up, I watched Wendy, who had a little bit of a pout on her, but it was a playful one. "Spoilsport," she said, and then winked at me again. "Don't worry, I'm sure we'll have our time together."
"You'll take care of the rest of his alibi and shit, right?" Maria asked while she put her own clothes back on.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll handle it. Most of it will be in place by tonight. When it's time for the doctor's note, give me a call."
Maria nodded, and pulled her white stocking legs back on. "Thanks," she said... grudgingly, it seemed.
"You know I'm always here for you, Maria. It's you who walked away from me." She seemed almost sad, and didn't even bother to dress before she went to sit in front of the computer. "I'm sure we'll see each other again."
Soon, we were back in Malcolm's car. "Have fun?" he asked. Maria just grunted, and told him to get going. "Everything go all right? You get your life sorted out?"
"I think so," I said, although I was still unsure. We'd have to wait and see how the lies would go over. "Are you okay?" I asked Maria.
She looked at me, quirking a smile, but I wondered if maybe she was faking it. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know, it's just... I know you didn't want to do that with Wendy. I don't quite know why..."
"I just don't like supporting... what Wendy supports. Participating in it makes me feel dirty. That I came doesn't make much difference. I just hope you don't wind up going to her and creating porn with her or fucking guys for cash a few months from now for kicks or some extra cash, or I'm going to be very disappointed."
I promised myself then that I wouldn't, not just for fun, no matter how much fun it looked, or for extra cash. "It clearly bothers you... and yet you did anyway," I pointed out. "For me." What did that mean? She'd risked her life for me, too.
"The lesser evil," she said softly. "Letting a few perverts get their jollies isn't as bad as leaving someone like you out in the cold, or letting O'Brien handle your case."
"What's wrong with O'Brien?"
"Nothing, maybe. I like O'Brien. I just don't trust him. Wendy... I don't like. But whatever our disagreements, I can trust her."
"But you trust this... inner circle? They could all turn me in to the Company too."
"The inner circle is the inner circle for a reason. If they couldn't be trusted, we'd never have lasted this long. They're good people."
"I'm touched," Malcolm said dryly. "Hey, Maria, you want me to drop you off somewhere on the way?" Malcolm asked. "Make your trip home a little easier?"
I looked at her, and she looked back. She had a bit of a pained look in her eyes, like she wanted to go, but I was guilting her into it, and using the classic puppy-dog-eyes without even realizing it. "No, I told Michaela I'd see her to the safe house. I'll catch a cab or something from there if Samuel's already left."
"Can't you stay, after?" I asked, hopefully. "I mean, just a little while?"
"I wish I could, kid, but I can't. Besides, if I stay, I'd probably wind up playing around. I told you I'm changing back into Mario tonight, right?" I nodded. "Well, I'd rather not have a load of Malcolm's spunk in my stomach when I do."
"Your loss," Malcolm joked. "It's good shit!"
"Don't worry, Michaela. They'll keep you safe... and so entertained you'll barely miss me."
I didn't believe that, but I realized that I had been whining and I didn't want Maria to be disgusted with me. It struck me then as a little odd that I was so clingy to her... whatever we looked like, we were both guys, weren't we? And with what she had said about Malcolm's cum, and Malcolm himself, earlier, eagerly recounting one of his sexcapades... it was starting to worry me how this would affect me after I stopped being Michaela. "Can I, uh, ask you guys something?"
"When we stop being girls... are we like, gay?"
Maria winced a little. Malcolm shook his head. "No, it doesn't work like that. If you weren't gay before, you wouldn't be after."
"But you still remember fucking guys, right? And sucking cock."
"You compartmentalize," Malcolm said. "You remember it, but it's like it happened to somebody else. Like, watching a really good porno. You've seen porn, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "Of course."
"Ever watch gangbang porn? Or bukkake, shit like that?"
"There's a girl in those, but there are also a lot of dicks. And mostly, it's the dicks getting the attention. But you sort of... ignore that, and focus on the girl. To be honest, I doubt most guys would admit it, even to themselves, but I think a lot of the appeal of that kind of porn is you're imagining yourself in the girl's position. It's not that you want to be surrounded by dicks, but you want to... you want to WANT to. You want to be able to devote yourself to sexuality, so nothing else matters but giving pleasure. But it doesn't change what attracts you. Like, if a guy dropped his pants in front of me and asked me to suck him, right now, it has no appeal for me at all. But imagining being somebody who would, that still turns me on." He shrugged. "I guess it's difficult to explain. It's confusing at first, but you find a way to handle it. And there are guys who do handle it poorly, and go into sissification and things like that, but most of them just wind up staying in Lolly Anne form most of the time."
I looked to Maria. "What about you?"
She was quiet for a while. "Being a Lolly Anne isn't easy," she said finally. "But worrying about whether it makes you gay is missing the point."
"Maria's more worried it makes Mario a pedophile."
"I'm not a fucking pedophile," she snapped.
Malcolm grinned. "Yeah, you just fuck little girls even when you're a grown man."
"Just Lolly Annes. They're not actually little girls."
"But your cock doesn't know the difference."
Maria was getting irritated, I could tell, but she just shook her head and looked to me. "Look, Michaela.... Michael." It was the first time she'd addressed me directly by my male name. "The most important thing is not to lose track of who you are. Who you're attracted to... that's beyond your control. And it's probably the least important thing about you. But you are who you choose to be."
Somehow, that made me feel a little better. Maybe I was worrying about the wrong things. "Thank you," I said. Maria simply shrugged, as thought what she'd said was nothing.
The ride proceeded in silence for a while, but evidently Malcolm didn't like a silent car, so he asked if I minded if he turned on the radio, then without waiting for an answer, did so anyway. We didn't talk much, but occasionally something on the radio would prompt a bit of discussion, a song we liked or disliked, or some bit of news, and that lightened the mood.
Finally, we arrived in front of the safe house. Maria had us proceed slowly at first, and Malcolm stopped and made a call. Up ahead, two men came out of the side of a minivan, and approached. They looked a little intimidating, too, moving with a confident ease. Maria watched them carefully. "Okay, I recognize them."
"Me too," Malcolm said.
"I don't," I said.
"They're the guard team. Malcolm's just going to go get us cleared to enter." She looked out the window, and then to me. "Oh, and don't mention your Lolly Anne stuff to them, or try to seduce them."
"Why? Don't they know?"
"A few of Adam's bodyguards know, but most of them are just guards, and even I don't know which. These guys probably do, but I don't want you to get into the habit of assuming. Even the ones who know, not all of them know everything."
"So, assuming they don't, what do they think they're doing here?" I wondered.
"Probably guarding the children of foreign dignitaries, UN diplomats, things like that. Maybe even organized crime families. I don't know the specifics, guys like this get work because they're not too eager about asking questions as long as they get paid. They probably won't talk to you, but if they do, pretend you don't speak English or something."
They didn't speak to us at all. Malcolm talked to them for a couple minutes, and then led us inside while they stayed out. The place was a small apartment building, three floors, without even an elevator, just a set of stairs. We stopped on the second floor and knocked at an apartment. Barbara let us in.
Samuel, who gave her a ride there, was also there, a sour expression on his face. But then, he always seemed a little annoyed by something. This time, it was apparently by how long it had taken us. "Finally," he said. "I do have a few other things I needed to do today."
"I told you that you could go if you wanted," Barbara said.
"Two of us here at all times, that's what protocol said." She shrugged, and Samuel looked to Maria. "You need a lift somewhere?"
"Uh, yeah, sure," Maria said. "Even just to the subway's fine." She glanced at me, and then added, "You mind waiting for me downstairs? I'll just be a minute."
Samuel nodded. "Just don't keep me waiting too long." He departed, and Malcolm went into the apartment and sat down on the couch, talking quietly with Barbara.
Maria and I stared at each other, knowing what was coming. The goodbye. "Well, I guess it's time for me to go," she said. She raised one hand to rub the back of her neck. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be safe here. If they were going to attack us, it would have been at Walters'.... Wendy's, I mean."
I had the beginnings of tears in my eyes. Malcolm seemed nice enough, and Barbara was probably okay, but I'd been with Maria almost non-stop since I met her and I don't know how, but it felt like we'd forged some kind of bond. "When will I see you again?"
"I don't know. I can check in on you tomorrow, if you'd like, but..."
"You'll be Mario." I filled in. That's why it hurt so much. Maria was going away, not for a day, but for about a month. Even if Mario was the same person, it didn't feel the same way. Again, what if we didn't get along at all?
Maria nodded, as though she could read my mind. "Maybe it'd be easier if I don't."
"No, please, do," I said. "I want to see what you're like." The tears kept welling, and I knew I couldn't hide it, so I wiped my eyes and tried to make a joke out of it. "God, you'd think I was losing a best friend or something. You probably think I'm some crazy person."
She spoke softly, sympathetically. "No... it's normal. We get a little more emotional when we're Annes. Sometimes you can get attached to somebody quickly."
"It's just... you have a way of making me feel safe," I said. I looked back towards where Barbara and Malcolm were in the living room, either not listening in or pretending they weren't. "I don't really feel that with the others."
"They'll grow on you." She sighed. "Okay, I don't normally do this, but... I'll give you my phone number, okay?" My eyes brightened immediately. She reached for a scrap of paper on the table by the door. There was a pen in a bowl. "I'm going to be busy so try not to call it just for chit-chat, but if you're really having a hard time and you need somebody to talk to... I'm here, okay?"
She handed the slip of paper to me and I looked at it a second before taking it, my mind playing with the digits, seeing relationships between them, a pattern... it was something I did automatically with long strings of numbers, a habit, which tended to help me memorize them quickly. Seconds later, I took it, knowing the number was probably safely stored in my head, but liking the feel of the paper nonetheless, like a talisman. "Thank you," I said. "Is it okay if I hug you goodbye?"
She smiled, genuinely. "Sure."
We embraced then, nothing sexual about it but it felt so good, like nothing else was wrong in the world, we were just two little girls, best friends hugging, the warmth of our cheeks pressed together. It could have lasted an eternity but broke after only a few seconds, and I thought I saw Maria's own eyes glistening. "Okay. I better go. You'll be fine, I'm sure."
I nodded. "Bye."
She reached behind her to open the door, and then departed with a wave that was almost an afterthought. I heard her footsteps running down the stairs to the street and suppressed an urge to run to the window and watch her go. I'd embarrassed myself in front of the others enough.
I stepped out of the little foyer and into the living room proper, where Malcolm and Barbara were waiting. Even though they must have seen and heard the goodbye, they didn't comment on anything when I sat down beside them on the couch. "So," I said, trying to start a conversation but not knowing how. They were the experts at this, not me.
"So," Barbara said. "Do you have anything you want to do, or any more questions?"
"I'm kind of hungry." The last thing I ate was a couple small finger sandwiches, and before that... well, the only thing in my stomach was slimy and not very filling.
"No problem. We can order take-out. Your choice."
"A pizza's fine. I'm good with any topping except anchovies or olives. And... I'd kind of like to take a shower."
"Sure. The bathroom's at the back there. In fact, why don't we give you a quick tour, first." It was a small place, just two bedrooms. "In case you feel like sleeping alone," Barbara said. She also pointed out the exits, saying that one of the reasons that they chose this place is that, if anyone had to, a little girl could get out easily. There were windows in the bedrooms, wedged so that they couldn't be easily opened very far, and one in the bathroom that a grown man couldn't fit through. "Probably nothing will happen," Barbara said. "But if it does, run. There's a subway station less than a block from here." I didn't think much of it at the time, they did their best to assure me that this was all routine, and that the worst Barbara had seen happen at a safehouse was a police investigation after a nosy neighbor reported children being 'sexually abused'. "The girls had to sneak out and hide in a cold alley until we satisfied them that there were no girls in the place, we just had our porn up too loud." So, I felt comfortable leaving them to take my shower.
In the bathroom, after taking a quick piss, I began to strip off. I took off my shoes first... I probably should have done it in the foyer, but I wasn't thinking. The shirt was due to come off next, and I'd raised it just past my navel when I noticed the window, one of the supposed escape routes. It was open, screened, but open, giving a view of the building on the other side. There was a window on the opposite side... nobody was there now, but that didn't mean that nobody would ever look in. I was about to close the frosted glass so nobody would get some kind of illicit thrill, and then thought... what did I care? The thought somebody might see me naked was exciting, not terrifying.
I began to undress with that thought in mind, removing my clothes slowly, sensuously, like a stripper might, if a stripper was a preteen, whirling each piece around in my hands before casting it aside, and regularly checking the window to see if anybody caught my show. Sadly, no one did, and by the time I was completely naked I began to feel a little silly about the whole thing, and stopped playing to an imaginary audience. What else was I going to do, anyway, masturbate? I already knew how satisfying that was.
Instead, I turned to the shower and turned it on, leaving the window open but knowing, unless someone physically stuck their head in the bathroom, there was no way anybody could be watching. The water heated up quickly, and there was a sublime pleasure in feeling my now long hair become wet and cling to my neck. With a bar of soap in one hand, I rubbed down my body, a ritual I'd performed thousands of times as a man, but now the body suddenly different, with strange contours. My feet were especially dirty, from running around my apartment building before I got shoes, and so I gave them a good scrubbing, and finally I turned my attention to my pussy.
I could handle it with remarkable roughness, when I wasn't already very aroused. When I wasn't using the delicate touch of beginning masturbation or rubbing directly on my clit, I shuffled the labial flesh around like it was just any other bit of skin, it didn't feel bad or especially good. Lighter or unexpected touches seemed to trigger arousal, and when I was already aroused, any touch would do. So cleaning myself didn't get me very hot... what did was when I let my pussy directly into the flow of water. The unanticipatable rhythm of water droplets hitting me with sudden warmth, then sliding down into other sensitive areas, now that felt good. My thighs squeezed together and my fingers slid down to spread the lips and expose the pink inside to the spray, which felt even better. I told myself at first that was to wash out any remaining trace of cum, but I spent several minutes like that, and much of that was spent rubbing myself clean.
It was happening again, I was getting hotter and hotter, and it would do me no good, it would just leave me frustrated, so as good as it felt to keep doing, I forced my fingers away and turned my back to the spray, letting it splatter on my little ass while I reached for the shampoo. Rubbing that into my hair, my scalp, that felt good, but not sexually good, it was like relaxing a muscle I didn't realize was tensed.
Those pleasures could only last for so long, and eventually I felt like I was the definition of squeaky-clean. I shut the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel. After patting myself dry, I spotted the pile of clothes and shoes and wrinkled my nose at it. I'd been wearing those all day, and I liked this clean feeling. Wearing old clothes felt grimy. What was funny was that it never bothered me before. As a man, I'd cheerfully throw on an old, unwashed t-shirt just because it was handy.
I didn't have any other clothes on hand, so I just wrapped the towel around me as best I could and stepped barefoot out into the hall.
In the living room area, the TV was on, and I figured they were watching it, so it was a bit of a shock when the couch came into view and I saw Malcolm lying back, pants undone, with a mane of red hair in his lap, and a small, pale, naked body leaning off it. She drew her head back, and the hair fell to the side, giving me a good view of his cock filling her mouth, moist with her own saliva.
I licked my lips involuntarily, staring at the scene, my heart pounding with another little illicit thrill. I'd been with men, I'd been with little girls, and I'd seen girls together, but I had yet to see a grown man with a little girl, as a spectator, and it felt far dirtier, more taboo than any of the other things I'd seen that day. It was like I'd stumbled onto some hard core child pornography on the internet. For an instant, I even forgot that I was a girl, except when I flexed the muscle between my thighs, my cock didn't jump up and bang against my towel.
Malcolm opened his eyes and looked at me, looking just a little embarrassed. "Oh, hey Michaela. Sorry. Figured we'd have time for a quick blowjob before you got out." He stroked Barbara's hair gently, and I could see her looking at me out of the corner of her eye. "Hey, you probably never sucked cock before... why don't you let Barbara teach you."
I started to speak, to say that actually I'd already sucked two cocks that day, but I only got out "I..." before I decided, what the hell. Part of the tradition of this place seemed to be that you have sex with the people watching over you, so now was as good a time as any to get started. My pussy was already warmed up from the shower, so I was in the mood for a little action. "Okay," I said, sidling up to the couch and falling to my knees. Barbara was lying on her stomach, ass up in the air, as was one of her feet. I took a look back, at the ass, not the foot, it was small bit very cute. There were even freckles on it! Not many, especially not compared to her shoulders, and of course the bridge of her nose, but there were a few that stood out.
Barbara let Malcolm's dick slide out of her mouth. His cock was uncircumsized, about six inches with a nice glistening head and a little bit of a curve to his left. "It's not so bad," Barbara said. "Just think of it like you're sucking on a meat popsicle." She used her hand to point the dick in my direction. "Go on, try it."
I leaned in, opened my mouth, and took it into my mouth. This time I didn't have anybody fucking me at the same time, which was a pity, but it allowed me to focus on the sensation. It tasted a little milder than Colin's dick did, and much less than the Axe-smothered cock of Rick, but it was more or less the same in general sensation. It filled my mouth, although I was getting a little more used to using my tongue in such conditions.
For a guy who hasn't sucked cock, it's hard to describe. I mean, the taste is pretty much skin-like, most of it, although the pre-cum is a little more bitter. The sensation... well, the best way I can describe it is if you took one of those big sausages, the ones with a little bit of cheese already built into it, heated it in a microwave and let the outside cool to just above body temperature, while the inside might still be piping hot, then stuck it in your mouth and sucked on it without biting. It's a little gnarly and your tongue can feel the little bumps of veins. Some of the juices can even spurt out, so it can be closer than you'd think... except, of course, the cock really is alive, regularly twitching, pulsing, and there's a pair of balls dangling at the other end of it, and a guy attached to those. Still, it's close enough that I can't eat those sausages anymore, at least not while I'm a guy.
That time, my third cock, I took it into my mouth and took a good long suck, bobbing up and down on it, before going deeper than I ever had before, at least willingly. When Colin was mouth-fucking me and Rick was just plain fucking me, it occasionally went pretty far in, just because I was pounded at just the wrong moment, but this was a more leisurely encounter, and I was in control. I got it just about to the back of my throat. "Not so far," Barbara advised. "You don't want to choke." But I wanted to see how good I could do, and maybe impress them a little. They didn't know it wasn't my first time.
Malcolm seemed to enjoy my go-getter attitude more than Barbara did. He moaned a little, running a hand over his sweaty head and into his busy hair. "Okay, good," Barbara continued, leaning in to get a much closer look. In fact, she blocked my view of Malcolm himself... right then all I could see was cock, Malcolm's belly, and Barbara's freckle-covered face laying against it. She really was cute, close up. "But it doesn't all have to be going all the way down," she suggested. "You can pull off and lick the sides and head." As my mouth retreated to the head, she leaned in more and ran her tongue along the shaft. "Okay, let me have some now."
I let it go, swallowed reflexively some of the excess saliva, and some of Malcolm's precum and watched as Barbara's tongue swirled over the head of Malcolm's penis. "Come on, don't be shy," she said. "We can share it."
I licked along the underside, while she focused on the head, and then she moved away and we switched for a while. "I don't much care for licking balls, myself," she said. "But if you want to, they're there." I didn't feel like trying... they were a little too hairy. Soon we got into a pretty good rhythm going, one of us taking Malcolm into our mouth, our lips sinking down the flesh, while the other working our tongue in any space we could find.
It was in my mouth when Malcolm said, "I'm just about going to blow..." I just kept on sucking, enjoying the feel, how it seemed to get stiffer and almost vibrate, and then... it squirted.
I liked it, for an instant, the feel of something shooting in my mouth... like a hard candy with a gooey center that suddenly gushes out, even if you know it's coming, the exact moment is still a surprise that feels good.
Immediately afterwards, I had a moment of panic, and started pulling back. I wasn't even thinking, it was just a reaction, like I suddenly remembered I was really a guy, a straight guy, and the thought of what I was doing scared me. The second spurt started on my tongue and dribbled down my chin as I swallowed without even thinking. The third landed on my face. I put up a hand to block the next shot. After that, Barbara took my place and nursed on the cock, getting the remaining cum out of it herself.
After it was done, I realized how crazy my reaction was... or maybe it was sane, but at least compared to everything else that day, it was crazy. I'd already done so much, enjoyed so much. What was one more thing? Especially since... I'd only had it in my mouth for a second or two, but that's all you need, especially when it's surprising. I'd smelled my own cum before, and it didn't seem like anything anybody should want to eat. Part of the reason I loved getting blowjobs so much was the knowledge that the girl was actually willing to go through that. And yet... what was just in my mouth didn't taste horrible.
I had some of the slop on my hand, and I raised it to my mouth, licking it off my palm. Yes, I wasn't imagining it. "It's... sweet," I said with surprise. It wasn't completely sweet, there were sour and even bitter undercurrents to the flavor, but the sweetness was distinctive and made it taste almost like candy. "Is this part of the curse?" I asked. Making us cum addicts would fit in, I guess.
Barbara, who'd gotten all she could off the cock, giggled, then leaned in close to me and ran her own tongue along the outside of my face, where Malcolm had shot on me. "Nah. I mean, you probably do like the flavor of cum more than you should, but how the hell do we know how much a girl should?" Another swipe of her tongue ran along my neck. I didn't even realize I'd gotten some there. "But that's not why it's so sweet."
I looked at Malcolm, who'd recovered from his orgasm and was smiling, confident and relaxed, his eyebrows arched with delight as he revealed the secret. "Pineapple juice. Most of us drink it, since we wind up helping each other out so much. Makes the cum go down much easier. Told you it was good shit."
"Adam actually owns a company that sells it," Barbara said
She laughed. "No, Pineapple juice. He's got a company. It's just a local one, it doesn't compete with like, Dole or anything, but most of us use it."
"Doesn't drink it, but the guy knows a money-making opportunity when he sees one," Malcolm said. I couldn't tell if it was meant to be a snide dig, or honest admiration.
Malcolm shrugged. "Adam doesn't have sex with Lolly Annes. Even when he's a girl, and the urges strike, he usually sticks to just one guy to help him through them. A shame, because she's cute, but..." he shrugged. "He's the boss."
"Speaking of urges," Barbara said, smiling at me, and wiggling her shoulders, one up, one down, and then switching them. "Want to 69?"
"Okay," I said, trying to sound like I was just casually into it, but my pussy was moist all during the blowjob and Barbara licking my face made it start to throb. I stood up, and the towel fell away... it wasn't a deliberate act, I must not have properly secured it, but there was no need to be embarrassed, since it was going to have to go anyway.
She pulled me to the couch, kicking at Malcolm with one toe to get him to shift over. We were small enough to only need two of the three cushions, so he didn't need to get up entirely, just move a little. At Barbara's direction, I lay down, head towards Malcolm, and Barbara crawled on top of me and turned so that her feet were on each side of my face. Soon, or torsos were on top of each other, but in the opposite direction. Above me, I could see her pussy... no freckles on it, no hair either, a pink slit, with visible folds buried inside, and you could even see the hole, like arousal had made it open wide. Her whole mound was a little pink looking... almost angry, but still beautiful.
She looked back down at me between my legs, upside-down, and grinned like a madwoman... or mad child, anyway. "You ever licked pussy before?"
"No," I said, although almost, with Wendy. "I mean, yes, but not as a girl."
"Same principle, anyway. Only difference is, now you have a pussy of your own, so it's easier to find out what you like, and improve your technique on others. Those skills carry over to when you're a man, too."
She licked me first, a long lick right down the slit (or up, from her perspective), clit to hole, an action that made me shudder and my eyes roll back a little. When she didn't repeat the action right away, I figured it must be my turn, and I stretched my neck so I could reach her own cunt, and began licking. Soon, her body lowered to meet me, and her mouth spent more time between my legs, making me squirm and lick harder. She tasted a little sweet... maybe pineapple juice worked on her, too, though the flavor also reminded me a little of metal. The weird parts of the flavor were no deterrent, though, I loved the taste, and even more, the feel of licking while being licked.
I have, rarely, engaged in a sixty-nine with girls. I always enjoyed it, but the experience is a little different as a girl, and when you're with a girl, even aside from the feelings that come from having a pussy instead of a cock. Because when you're both girls, and you have all the same parts, and they're being stimulated at the same time, there's a weird vibe to it, with several moments where you feel almost like you're licking your own pussy. This doesn't happen all the time, but when you get into a certain synch with your partner, it occasionally pops up, and it did that time. Far from being disturbing, though, it's actually kind of awesome. I found myself trying to keep up the pace with her, to imitate what she was doing, and I thought at some times she was deliberately imitating what I was doing... this seemed to happen especially when I'd done something that felt particularly good, like when I grazed her clit after a lot of tonguing her crack, and she attacked my clit with more force.
It wasn't just tongues, either, fingers came into play too. She started that, and I immediately started rubbing my finger in her hole to catch up. Soon we were finger-banging each other while our tongues were working on the outside of the pussy, in perfect tandem.
Malcolm was the one who spoiled our beautiful symmetry. He was beside me, and there was no corresponding man watching near my feet, and so when he decided he wanted to help, by rubbing the space between Barbara's ass and her pussy, and then slid down to the pussy itself, the illusion was broken as no hand did the same to me.
I withdrew my finger and let him put his in, and use my hands to spread open her slit so I could lick more of her labial lips more easily. Barbara was moaning now, sometimes into my pussy, sometimes pulling off to do so vocally. She was loud and shrill, and it soon became almost a girlish scream. Her hand squeezed my mound while she couldn't make use of her tongue.
She was twitching, having an orgasm, a pretty loud one, too, and I was close but not there yet, feeling perversely disappointed that I would have to wait. But I didn't have to wait long, she caught her breath, four or five deep ones after her scream ended, and then her tongue slopped on my clit with renewed vigor, and her fingers rapidly slid in and out. She used two of them, like she was making a gun with her hands and fucking me with the barrel. I came, again, losing myself, aware only of the pleasure, and, faintly, the tongue and finger behind it, not as themselves, but like they were threads, barely connecting me to the real world while I floated in heaven like a kite.
I couldn't stay aloft forever, and soon began drifting down to reality, still feeling great, still with more pleasure than anybody could hope for, but grounded. The tongue left, for a moment. "You cum?"
"Uh-huh," I said.
"Wanna try and cum again?"
"Sure, I'm up for it."
"I'm about ready for it too," Malcolm said. He had two fingers of his own in Barbara's pussy, and a thumb playing around her ass. "Do you want to fuck me, Michaela? Or would you prefer I do Barbara, while you watch?"
"You can fuck me," I said. I wasn't as excited as I would have been a minute or two ago, but the thought was still very appealing.
"Okay," he said. "Got a position in mind? Birthday girl's choice."
"In a way, it's your birthday. First day as a girl, right?"
I guess he had a point. "I don't really care, just fuck me."
The phone rang then. "Just a second." Malcolm went for the phone. Barbara rolled off of me and onto the floor, watching him answer is, and I leaned on my elbows for a few seconds before pulling myself into a seated position. "Oh, right. Yes, should be okay, just keep watching and be ready to come in, just in case." He hung up.
I looked at him. "What?"
He grinned sheepishly. "Pizza's coming."
"Oh, right. Good, I am kind of hungry."
"Come on," Barbara said, standing up quickly and extending a hand to let me do the same.
"What?" I got to my feet as I asked, though, ready to follow her.
"Pizza boys may be cool and up for everything in porn, but in real life, seeing two naked girls is going to lead to questions. We'll let Malcolm handle it, while we get dressed. You don't want hot pizza grease dripping on your naked skin, right?"
She led me into one of the bedrooms, where there was a suitcase filled with girl's clothes. "Pick out something to wear. There are some sexy nighties if you like that sort of thing." I went to look, then noticed that she wasn't following. Instead, she'd gone to the bedside table, where there was a small handgun.
"What's that for?"
"Just procedure. Don't worry."
Seconds later, we heard Malcolm's voice. "Kids, pizza's here!"
Barbara nodded, her whole body relaxing. "That's just a signal. Means the pizza guy's here and he doesn't seem to be a threat. We can come out on the second signal." She smiled and repeated. "Don't worry. Malcolm's armed too, and there's two trained bodyguards outside. Like I said, get dressed."
I looked through the clothes, and, for some reason, chose a pair of pajamas, a sort of mauve color with animal characters on it. I guess I wasn't feeling particularly sexy any more, with the reminder that people were after me... and of course the fact that I'd just cum and was feeling altogether more rational about everything.
"Okay, Barb, soup's on." Hearing this, apparently the second signal, Barb put the gun down where she found it, and joined me. She chose a pair of panties and a nightie that looked almost like a short, flimsy dress. It covered, and might have even been sold in big retail stores, but it was far sexier than I'd be comfortable giving a kid, or even buying. I'd get the feeling the cashiers would think I was a pedo. Barbara seemed to have no trouble wearing it, and once she was dressed, we went back out.
"So, the pizza's pretty hot. We could fuck while we wait for it to cool down..." Malcolm suggested hopefully.
"We could," I said. "I am really hungry though." If he'd asked me right after I'd cum, I probably would have gone for sex first, but I'd had some time to settle down and it didn't seem as important, compared to the rumbling in my stomach. Still, if he'd pressed, I might have let him.
"Don't be pushy, Malcolm," Barbara said. "Your cock can wait a little. And you'll be harder, too."
So, we sat down to eat. The pizza came with a six pack of cola, and Barbara ran to get a set of paper plates. We sat on the floor, the pizza resting on the coffee table, and each dug into our food.
A lot of sensations are different as a girl, but pizza is still pizza. I mean, it tasted fantastic, but that was more due to my hunger and it being a very comforting food than any special quality of my new taste-buds. I couldn't wait to get it down, and we ate mostly in silence for a minute, except us agreeing that it tasted good.
I finished the slice, except for the crust which I decided to leave. As an adult, I always ate the crust, but I realized that I had a much smaller stomach now, and I'd rather fill it with more pizza than more crust. Maybe kids aren't just being picky, maybe they're smarter than we give them credit for. After wiping my hands of the grease, the quiet was starting to get to me, and I said, "So, I have a question..." They looked at me curious, and I felt my face flush. It was stupid, silly, compared to all the things I could be asking about our condition. But I couldn't think of anything else right now. "You said your Lolly Anne name is Karen... and Barbara, you were born Richard. Why did you choose those names?"
"There's no easy feminine version of my name," Malcolm said. "I chose Karen on a whim when somebody asked my name my first day. I have a cousin named Karen, maybe that's why."
"Yeah, there's no real girlie version of Richard, either... even if you go with Dick, or Rick... I mean, I guess you there are girls named Rickie, but it doesn't feel right. And since I turned out to be a redhead... well, I decided to name myself after my favorite redhead." I looked at her questioningly, and she smiled and said, "I'll give you a hint... the name goes well with Dick."
That didn't make it any clearer. "It's a geek test," Malcolm clarified.
"Yeah, in a way."
I tried thinking of famous redheads, but I couldn't remember any named Barbara. So I tried thinking up famous Barbaras, and none of the ones that came to mind were redhead. Barbara and Dick... that rang a bell.
Suddenly, it clicked together. There was a Barbara who's major love interest was named Dick, and she was a redhead. "Batgirl?"
Her lips parted into a grin. "See, I knew I was going to like you."
"I guess the age threw me, Barbara Gordon's not a little girl."
"That's okay, I don't look much like Dick Grayson, when I'm not Barbara. Except for the dark hair. Anyway, Barbara Gordon's probably my favorite comic character ever, she's like one of the few cases of a female superhero who's known more as a thinker than a fighter. Plus, she was a librarian, and I sort of am too."
She got excited talking about it, and I let her... we kind of displayed our geek for each other, it was something we had in common, to some degree or another. Barbara was probably the geekiest out of all of us, she actually still read and collected comics and talked about stuff I had no idea about. Malcolm was like me... we would sometimes watch current cartoons and loved superhero movies, but our comic phases were long behind us. We were both more into science fiction television. Still, sitting there, eating pizza, talking about cartoons and superheroes... it bonded us, which helped me a lot, even more than the sex we'd just had... instead of spending this difficult period with strangers, I was with people who easily could become friends.
"You been watching Young Justice yet?" Barbara asked at one point, popping a piece of pepperoni in her mouth.
I shook my head. "Been meaning to get to it." Having a girlfriend put a little crimp in my cartoon watching. It was one of those things she thought was childish and immature, and you never want to be thought that way by your girl, even if you're not that serious about her... maybe especially if you're not that serious about her, because you know she'll be mocking you to her friends eventually.
"You have to, it's awesome. Even though Babs isn't really in it. Tell you what, tomorrow, I'll get somebody to drop off my external hard drive... I've got all the episodes on there, we'll watch them together." She winked. "Then I'll show you my collection of x-rated fanart."
I laughed. "Well, how can I say no to that? This part of the welcoming ritual too? Make new Lolly Annes feel even more like kids?"
"Not officially, but there is something to be said for indulging in the non-sexual benefits of our condition. Lots of Lolly Annes do it, like a chance to relive the best parts of our childhood. Maybe it should be part of the official ritual."
Malcolm leaned back. "I have been pushing to get My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic set up in every safe house." I couldn't tell whether he was joking or not.
"Seriously?" I said, narrowing my eyes. I shook my head. "No, I think that's a little girlie even for me, and I'm wearing girlie pajamas."
"That's normal, by the way. We may act more childish in Anne form, but we don't really have any experience being little girls, so a lot of us turn out to be tomboys. Malcolm here being the exception."
"Hey, you don't have to be a girl to enjoy My Little Pony. I'm a proud brony."
"I think my respect for you just dropped a few notches," I joked. Well, mostly joked. I knew better than to judge somebody based on what they liked, but even in a little girl's body I couldn't see why anybody would want to watch a show like that, much less identify with the fandom.
"Why you gotta be a hater, man? I bet you've never even tried it."
Barbara wrinkled her freckly nose. "I have, and she's right to lose respect for you. I would have, but I never had much to begin with."
It was all a light teasing tone, and even Malcolm's offense was only mock-offense. "Okay, just for that, I'm not fucking either of you tonight. You two can go without cock."
"Oh, sure," Barbara said. "Like that's realistic."
"You guys are the ones with the hungry place inside you, yearning to be filled. When you get the cravings, don't come crying to me."
"Please, every guy's in the same boat as us. Except we can satisfy each other." Barbara put an arm around me and tugged me towards her. "Right in front of you, if we have to. " She leaned half-turned her body and leaned in towards me, mouth open. I leaned back, just a little, in surprise, but my mouth opened as well, and I let her catch me. Our tongues met, sliding around each other delicately, somehow more intimate than when I was eating her out. My first kiss as a girl, I kind of wanted it to continue, just as much as I bizarrely wanted to save it for Maria, but she pulled away and grinned smugly at Malcolm. "By the end of the night, you'll be begging to us to join in. That's what girl power is."
"Hey, I've gone without pussy plenty of times. I was in Chess Club all through high school... closest thing to a celibacy club we had."
"You only went without because there weren't any options." She pulled up her nightgown so her light green panties showed, and then twisted her body to show her ass... accentuated once she pulled the panties tight into her crack. "Five holes you could be fucking."
"Five?" I asked.
"We don't advise anal sex on your first time in Anne form, just in case. You might not want it anyway, especially if you're concerned about what this all means about your sexuality. I mean, you don't have a pussy when you're Michael, so it's easy to tell yourself that liking sex doesn't mean anything... but if it turns out you like it up the ass..." She shrugged. "I don't have that problem, though. If Malcolm wants to shove his cock up my ass, I don't have any problems letting him." She looked pointedly at him. "If he begs me."
Malcolm leaned back with a smug little look on his face. "Okay, fine, I'll forgive you for insulting me earlier. Get that little ass over here."
"Maybe later," she said. "If you're a good boy." He groaned, and Barbara smirked at me. "See, we're not going to get uncontrollably horny again for several hours, but he's putty in our hands right now." Barbara, who'd been drinking water instead of Coke, grabbed her empty glass, jumped up, and went into the kitchenette. "So, you have any idea of what you want to do tonight? I mean besides sex. We could just relax and watch a movie, or explore your girly side and do it like a sleepover, play truth or dare, give each other makeovers, things like that?"
"I don't know, I was kind of wanting to get to bed early... it's been kind of a long day."
"Oh." She sounded a little disappointed. "I guess that's okay. If you want to be boring."
I was going to relent, even though I did kind of want to get to bed, I was at least willing for another round of sex, but I never got the chance to offer.
That's when everything went to hell.
With a crack, the front door flew open, and two men wearing black suits and masks charged in. I stared in shock as one raised a gun at Barbara, who was just turning, on reflex, to the sudden distraction. She had the misfortune of being closest to the door, which made her the first target.
A sound, not like a traditional gunshot, but more like a slap, came out, but the different in sound was only because there were silencers on the tip. The bullet was still as deadly, and caught Barbara right in the midsection. The impact or the shock knocked her down, and a pool of blood began to form under her.
I screamed, heard someone saying "There!", and feeling a hard shove pushing me towards the hallway. That was Malcolm, running with me, practically carrying me, and using me as a human shield. At first I didn't notice, and then did and got angry, but then realized... if they were after me, they probably wanted me alive. It was actually a logical choice, if a bit odd looking.
He immediately abandoned the human shield plan, probably guessing that a little girl didn't provide much cover for a grown man, or maybe deciding that they'd rather risk hurting me than letting the wrong side keep me. Instead, he pushed me towards the bathroom. "Lock the door. You know what to do."
The door was shut in my face, and my shaking hand reached out under its own power and grabbed the lock, and I crouched on the floor. I heard a gunshot, a real one, unsilenced, like a firecracker going off, and a few more of the quiet thumps. Malcolm had reached the other gun, in the bedroom, and was trying to fight them off. Meanwhile, I supposedly knew what to do.
Except I didn't. What was I supposed to do? I was so scared, all I could think to do was wrap my arms around my knees and pull my legs as close to my body as possible, but if they made it through the door, there was no way they wouldn't see me no matter how small I made myself. There'd be no way out...
It was that moment I remembered... there was a way out. On the tour, Barbara mentioned that only a child could get through the window in the bathroom. It was a little high, but if I could get to it, I could get out. Be alone on the street, barefoot in pajamas.
No, not barefoot. A stroke of luck... when I took my shower, I'd left my shoes in here, and hadn't bothered to retrieve them. The rest of my clothes were there too, but I didn't have enough time to get out of my pajamas and change. The shoes, though, that wouldn't take long at all. I grabbed them, slipped them on, and then tried to figure out how to get to the window.
Pulling myself up to the window wouldn't work. I was small and light, but I also wasn't very strong. My first attempt I got my chin up, but then had to fall back in failure. I took a step back and saw a way that might work: Step on the bathtub's edge, use that to climb on the towel rack. Pray it would support my weight, and from there, I could get to the window ledge.
I held my breath and accomplished the first step easily. I braced myself for a fall when I climbed onto the towel rack, but it held... the danger was more that it was so thin I might slip off the edge of it, but luckily that didn't happen either, and I finally made it to the window ledge, where I kicked the flimsy screen away. It was easier than I thought, like it was designed to fall away.
There, I waited, wondering if I should go... I'd be leaving Malcolm behind. What if he won?
I heard another of the silenced rounds, then another, and this time, no answering shots from what I assumed was Malcolm's own gun. All I heard were footsteps, and the door to the bathroom being tried. I hoped against hope that somehow it was Malcolm, that he'd taken their guns and was now checking up on me, but that hope faded when instead of his voice, I heard, practically felt, a loud kick. The door shook from the impact, and seconds later, it was followed by another... this one, knocking the door open. I saw the masked man on the other side and he saw me, and I knew I had to go, get out. I let myself fall through the other side of the window, onto a fire escape, just one story off the ground. It took less than a minute to get down, and during that time, whoever had broken in had checked the other window and determined that they couldn't get through it. They'd be coming around the front, now.
I didn't have any fancy tricks or schemes to outwit them, to make them think I was going one way when really I was going another... I was too scared for any of that. I just started running. I didn't know whether they had more men out here covering the area, or which way they might be, all I knew was that staying there wasn't an option. I was a little girl, alone in New York, after dark, wearing only pajamas and running shoes.
End of Installment #2
Next Time: "On the Streets!"
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