Previously, in The Lolly Anne Conspiracies: Michael never expected to wake up one morning in the body of a preteen blonde girl. Soon after he learned what he was... one of the Lolly Annes; men who, for three days a month, become oversexualized little girls because of a curse. He became close to another Lolly Anne, named Maria, who represented a group called the Alliance, and wanted to protect them from a rival group, the Company, who wanted their hands on "Michaela" before he turned back into Michael. And with good reason... the safehouse she was taken to was assaulted, leaving several dead... Michaela only barely escaped and was able to contact Maria, who was away at the time. Maria decided the only option was to take the new Lolly Anne to her home... and Michaela discovered that Maria was married.
The Lolly Anne Conspiracies (tg, magic, g*, ped*, loli*, viol)
Installment 4: "Sleepover" (additional codes: Mg*, Fg*, nc, oral)
(* 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 got into the backseat of the Chevy Malibu, trying to figure out why I felt sad, even betrayed. It was a totally irrational feeling. Before that day, I'd never even known Maria, the little girl who I'd come to depend on so much, now that I was also a little girl and wanted by a shadowy organization. I barely knew her now... mostly I knew was that she... or he, was a Lolly Anne, like me, which meant that, twenty-eight days a month, she was an adult man named Mario. I knew that Mario was a cop, and that, as Maria, she was nice to me, and had a cool head in a crisis. Beyond that, there wasn't much I knew, aside from, of course, the latest revelation, the one that stung...
Mario was married.
It shouldn't hurt, and yet, it did. I didn't want him to be married. I was... conflicted about the thought of him being a man at all... for the time I'd known her, while I was in the body of an oversexed preteen, the thought of her being a man and fucking me held a strange appeal, but I knew that it would be incredibly awkward when both of us were men at the same time. I didn't see myself wanting any relationship of that kind, but, while I was a girl, I felt possessive of him.
Jealous, that was the word. It didn't make sense, but I was jealous.
Maria slid into the front passenger seat after I was settled into the back, and the wife, she was in the driver's seat. She didn't LOOK like an interloping bitch. Nor, really, did she seem like a wife, although most of my mental images of that probably came from out of date television shows. She was maybe mid-thirties, with dark hair in sort of a wispy bob, with red highlights. From what I could see of her body, she was in good shape, with maybe a little too much meat on the hips if anything, and had a large bust. She certainly wasn't dressing to impress a husband, in sweat pants and a long shirt, but maybe the spark had gone out of their relationship.
As to her face... well, she was cute, for a woman her age, which was older than I was even when I was a man. She had brown eyes, and a round face, with a weak chin, and a nose that turned up a little. And she had a genuine, though slightly nervous, smile which endeared me to her a little. She wasn't wearing any makeup, as far as I could tell... with it, maybe she'd be quite pretty.
"Michaela," Maria said, as she did up her seatbelt. "This is my wife, Ellen."
"Hi," she said, turning back. "I've heard a lot about you."
"She knows about... all this?" I blurted out, which was stupid, because Maria just said "This is my wife" in front of her... if she didn't know about Lolly Annes, she wouldn't let that slide. But I was still in shock a little.
"I tell Ellen everything," Maria said, and then also turned back towards me. "Lie down on the seat, like you're taking a nap. They're probably looking for a blonde girl, so I won't raise eyebrows, but if somebody sees you in the backseat..." She let the thought trail off as I quickly complied.
As a little girl I was a lot smaller than I was the previous day, but I'd mostly grown used to it... but there are moments that really reminded me of that fact. Lying down, comfortably, in the back seat of a car was one of those moments. I could do it as an adult, but it'd be uncomfortable, awkward. This was like a miniature bed. I saw Ellen's reflection in the rear-view mirror looking at me, and smiling in amusement, like she understood what I was thinking. "You know all about the... Lolly Annes?" It was surprisingly hard to say out loud among a stranger.
"Mostly through what I see him go through, and what Mario tells me," she said. "I've only met a few of you. He likes to keep me apart from his business."
Maria seemed impatient. "We should get going."
Ellen pulled the car onto the street, and we'd gone just a few car lengths before I found myself asking, "So why are you involved now?"
"Because you needed help," Ellen said. "And we both owe you. She told me about how you saved her life."
Saved her life? Wasn't it the other way around? Then I remembered and shuddered a little, remembering the gunfight beneath my apartment building. "I just warned her, that's all."
"If you hadn't been there I'd be a widow."
"If I hadn't been there, she wouldn't have been in danger..." I pointed out.
"You didn't have any say in that, though," she said. "Besides, knowing how my husband is when he's a girl, she'd be getting in some kind of trouble or another." She smiled at Maria and extended a hand out to tousle her hair... like it was a joke, not like she was seriously concerned and trying to nag.
It was weird to watch, almost like a mother/daughter gesture, which made me wonder how their relationship could possibly work. Did they have sex like this? Was she jealous about what he did as a Lolly Anne? What he did with me? Maria said she knew everything, but if she wanted his wife to think she knew everything, while secretly holding some things back, she'd say the same thing, right? I wondered if I was expected to steer away from the subject.
Maria didn't seem especially tense, like she was worried I might blow her secret though... what she did seem was tired. She closed her eyes for long moments at a time, and then, suddenly, opened them again. After doing this twice, she turned the radio on to the news, but turned it very low, and looked back at me. "It's going to be a long drive. You can get some sleep if you want."
"It's okay," I said, and then remembered how tired she sounded when I called. "But you can, if you want."
"She can't," Ellen explained. "Not until she's alone enough to change back. She'll just be really tired." I remembered somebody telling me that... Barbara, I think, who was now in a hospital, fighting for her life.
Maria stared into the rearview mirror, but not at me, over my head through the back window. "Besides, I have to make sure we're not being followed. But you can sleep, and you probably should. It's been a long day."
I was tired, but I didn't think I could sleep, with so much going on. Turns out, I was completely wrong. I started by closing my eyes, just to make Maria think I was trying, and maybe to listen to the two up front talking and get a better idea of their relationship. But they didn't talk much, mostly just Maria giving directions on where to turn, and with the measured, almost monotonous tone of the newscaster, I found my mind wandering, and suddenly realized that they had skipped weather and traffic and were detailing the top stories again... or, more accurately, I'd nodded off.
Even with that awareness, it was hard to resist it happening again... sleep sneaks up on you. And, I found, I didn't want to resist anymore, so I just let myself go...
I was walking downstairs, one step at a time, until I reached the bottom. "Where's the light?" I heard a girl saying. I could barely see in front of me... very dim, but not completely dark. And dampness. It felt like descending into a cave formed with surprisingly right-angled walls and with wooden steps.
"Just keep walking, I'll hit it."
I moved forward, and suddenly there was a click from behind me, and the lights came on. I spun around, and there was a heavyset man with a close-cropped beard and what looked like a military haircut, only grown out. One of his beefy hands held a chain of beads connected to the light, one of the old styles, not the compact fluorescents.
I was in a basement, partly finished... there was carpeting through about half of it, the rest bare concrete. "Where is it?" I heard myself ask. It was the same voice as before, but now I knew it was mine, even though I felt disconnected from it, like I was an observer in my own body.
He pointed to one of the unfinished parts of the room. "I think it's in one of those boxes over there."
I strode over there confidently, and bent down to start looking through the collection of boxes, many of which were wrapped with tape. "Is there a label... or?" I froze, as I realized there was a hand on my thigh, my bare thigh, under my skirt. I pulled away after I felt the hand squeeze gently. "You know, it's okay, maybe you can find it later and give it to my Mom, I really need to go, thanks though."
But his arm snapped out and fingers locked around my arm and he drew me right up to him. With his other hand, he fumbled my skirt up against my waist and then slid into my panties. "No," I said, as his fingers spread open my slit, roughly stretching the hole and causing me a jolt of pain.
"Shhh... I'm just playing around..."
"I don't want you to..."
The finger retreated, finally, but the hands remained on my body, and the one that was in my panties went to my legs and helped to lift me off my feet. He carried me over to a beaten down couch and thrust me down on it. "Don't move," he said. "Unless you don't care about your Mom."
"Your Mom owes me a lot of money. You know about her gambling habit, right? And she can't pay me back... and normally what I'd do is set an example and kill her. I'd get away with it, too, I've done it before. But I'm giving you a chance to help her pay up... and it won't take much. I'll make sure you enjoy it..."
I couldn't move... I guess I could, I sure was trembling, but I was frozen in place.
He bent over and grabbed my panties, pulling them off my legs, even though I did my best to keep my thighs together. "Shhh..." he said, although I hadn't said anything new, except maybe let out a whimper. "Don't scream. Nobody'll hear you, but it might piss me off, and you don't want to piss me off."
The hand reached for my pussy again and this time, he put the finger in deep inside, so much that it hurt, like a sharp stabbing pain...
I woke up with a gasp, still in the back seat of the car. It was very dark, but I think we were on a expressway. Maria looked back. "You okay?" I nodded warily. "Nightmare?"
"They can be pretty bad, the first few days. After that, you'll usually only get them if you're due for a change." She looked forward again. "You can probably go back to sleep... it won't happen every time you close your eyes."
I didn't think I could get back to sleep, but I did close my eyes again. I turned the dream over and over again in my mind. Why should I dream of such things as part of my new condition? Was it part of the supposed 'curse' origins of the Lolly Anne condition? I couldn't remember the man's face, over than that he had a beard... like in most of my dreams, if I didn't know the person, the specifics of features vanished almost immediately upon waking. The scene was more consistent and specific than any of my usual dreams, though... was it from a movie? Could it possibly have really happened, somehow? Probably something much like it had happened at some point, somewhere in the world.
I couldn't come up with a definitive answer, but I might have fallen asleep considering it. I'm not sure... I didn't dream again. But the next thing I remember was the car not just stopping, but parking. It was brighter too, a sickly, artificial light. "You go on up, get things ready. Let me know when everything's okay." That was Maria.
The door opened, and then closed, and I decided to open my eyes and sit up. "What's going on?" Through the windows, I could see, we were in an underground parking lot, surrounded by concrete walls and other cars.
"We're here," Maria said, simply, with no emotion. "We'll go up in a minute."
"Are you worried we might have been followed?"
She appeared to consider it for a second. "No, I'm pretty sure we're good. It should be safe for tonight, at least. I just want Ellen to make sure there's nobody lingering around the hallways. I'm not so worried about anybody connected to the Company, but the fewer witnesses we have, the better."
I nodded, pretending I understood, and finally I said what was on my mind. "So, you're married."
She nodded. "Thirteen years." She laughed a little. "I don't even look like I'm thirteen years old, right?"
"And she really knows... everything?"
"Everything except for some of the Alliance's operational secrets. She doesn't need to know that and doesn't ask." She pursed her lips a little. "And I guess sometimes I downplay the danger. But you probably mean the sex stuff... yes, she knows all that. It's the only way our relationship can work." Before I could ask anything about that, she said, "You have a girlfriend, right?"
I thought about Sharon, and more specifically, the look of loathing she had when she caught me, a little girl, in her boyfriend's bed. "Had, probably."
"You might still be able to salvage it."
I hadn't had very high hopes of it before... I could give her the prepared story we'd come up with, and if I was a good enough actor, she might even buy it. Although Ellen did suggest another possibility. "So, what, you think I should tell her?"
"Oh, hell no. Not right away, anyway, not unless you're absolutely sure you love her... then you kind of need to. But until then, you can still manage a decent relationship, if you're careful, build an alibi in advance for your Lolly Anne times." She shrugged. "It's not easy, but it can be done. It all depends on whether you think she's worth it."
"I'm not sure she is," I said. I winced at how that sounded. "I mean, she's a nice girl, but there was just something missing... no... spark."
"Yeah, the spark's important."
It was, and I didn't have it... and as crazy at it was, I felt more of a spark between me and Maria than I had with Sharon. Except, that couldn't go anywhere, for any number of reasons. The biggest, and newest... "You have that with Ellen?"
"Since the day we met," she said wistfully. "Ellen is definitely worth it." She turned around to look back towards me, then crawled between the front seats and reached out to place a hand on my knee. I almost jumped. Yeah, the spark was there on my part. "You'll find somebody."
I didn't have anything to say to that, but when Maria yawned moments later, I said, "You're really tired."
"Yeah," she said, and then her phone vibrated. She put it to her ear, and said, "Okay, be right up." After taking one last look around for anybody in the area, Maria flung herself to the side to pull the door open, and started climbing out, then, from the outside, opened the door for me.
I climbed out, and after she locked the car door, we made our way to the freight elevator. "Why don't we use the regular elevator?" I asked as I watched concrete wall descend while the metal-grated elevator rose. It was surprisingly quiet... it rumbled, of course, but I expected it to be creaky and loud.
"I don't want you on any cameras," she told me. "Just in case." I nodded.
When we reached her floor, she got out first, then peeked around a corner before waving me onward. It wasn't a long walk, and she lived at the end of a hall... I could tell, because the door was open. Once it was in sight, Maria took my hand and speedwalked inside, and the door was shut behind us. Both of us took a breath at the same time.
Inside, I turned in a slow half-circle and looked around the place. It seemed... cozy, homey, the white walls adorned with art depicting scenes from out of the 19th Century, fluffy pillows on the couch, and clean... certainly an apartment with a woman's touch, not the bachelor pad I'd somehow assumed when I first contemplated going home with Maria. "You think we're safe?" I asked, still needing reassurance.
"Probably," Maria said, yawning again. Even without that, I could see it in her eyes, she was beat. There was a dullness there, like she was half asleep on her feet already. "I really need to crash, though. If anything does happen... and I don't think it will, but just in case... don't worry about me, just run. Try to go to ground until you turn back, hide on rooftops, dumpsters if you have to. If you absolutely need to make contact with another Lolly Anne... go to the statue of Alice in Wonderland in Central Park, there's an Asian girl named Kelly, wears a silver bracelet, there almost every morning. She's not officially one of us, but she's against the Company, and she's good people. Got it?" I nodded.
Maria's wife stepped into the kitchen and turned on the faucet, leaving Maria and I to just look at each other. "If you need anything just ask Ellen, okay?"
"Yeah, goodnight. Sleep well."
"I'll see you in the morning." And I'd see Mario for the first time. Or maybe not the first time. Maria went over to Ellen, who leaned down, bending over at the waist, and the two kissed softly, romantically. I surveyed room again, mostly in an effort to avoid watching the kiss, and this time I noticed something. There were picture frames, presumably with photographs in them, but they were all turned down, glass to the shelf. I casually wandered over, reached out...
"I'd rather you not," Maria said. I looked up at her. She seemed a little annoyed, but not outright angry. "They're down for a reason."
"I just wanted to see..."
"I know," she said. "But it'll be better as a surprise, don't you think? And you're a guest here, okay? I'd rather you respect our privacy."
"Okay," I said. It was a reasonable request, after everything they were risking for me. "I'm sorry."
She smiled. "It's okay. Just don't touch anything, and don't wander around. You'll make up the couch?" he asked Ellen, who nodded.
"Just get to sleep. You've earned it." Maria nodded, gave me a little wave, and disappeared down a short hallway.
That left me staring across the room at Ellen. "I'm sorry," I said again, waving towards the photo I almost turned over. Mostly because I couldn't think of anything else to say.
"It's okay." She also smiled, and then pointed. "There's a bathroom over here, if you need it, or want to wash up, and if you're hungry, I can make you something to eat before bed..."
I was at the stage where, if somebody had put food in front of me, I could probably eat a meal, but I wasn't especially craving one, so I said, "No thanks... but I think I will take that shower."
She didn't say anything else, just let me get to it, and I went into my second shower of the day. If I kept having sex and running around as a Lolly Anne, I foresaw myself needing to spend a lot more time showering. Maybe I should start having sex in the shower, it'd save some time.
The bathroom was a light rose color, with a bowl of potpourri, some decorative soaps, a little cabinet on one wall that must have been for stuff that wouldn't fit in a regular medicine cabinet, towels neatly folded in a basket. Another reminder of how married Maria was, as a man... the open part of the apartment could maybe have passed as something a stylish guy would have, but there was no way you could confuse this for a single guy's bathroom. Though I was amused at the brightly-colored kid's toothbrush beside the other two, which I only noticed after coming out. I guess my teeth were smaller now too, I probably still had my baby teeth. I ran my tongue between my lips and teeth, feeling them... it was one of those things about being a Lolly Anne that you don't notice at all until you do, and then, for a while, you can't stop noticing.
My teeth did feel a little unclean, but I didn't want to use any of their toothbrushes without permission... I mean, Mario even had a separate toothbrush for his Maria form (unless it was meant for me, but I didn't think so, it seemed well-used), so I didn't want to impose. I decided I'd use the mouthwash, though... get the lingering taste of cock out of my mouth. Maybe I could ask if they had a spare brush later.
The mouthwash seemed a lot more intense in the mouth of a little girl, but between it and the shower, I soon felt clean again, almost relaxed... if only I could stop thinking about poor Malcolm and Barbara, dying or in the hospital because of me.
I left the bathroom in just a towel, hoping I could maybe borrow something to sleep in... and yet, at the same time, I kind of hoped Ellen was gone, so I could just go to bed without having to talk to her. I could always just sleep naked.
Ellen, I quickly discovered, had anticipated one of my hopes... she had another set of clean pajamas waiting for me right outside the door. As for just disappearing quietly... no such luck. I could hear her in the kitchen.
Still, I did appreciate the clothes. All the windows were drawn, and Ellen couldn't see me directly anyway, so I just dropped the towel and put them on right in the hallway, then kicked the towel back into the bathroom and went to the couch.
It was made up with a pillow and a blanket, perfect for a young child to sleep in. All it needed was a comforting teddy bear. Although in my case, I would have been more comforted with another way out. We were too high to just jump out a window, and, although I couldn't be sure, the building looked on the newer side and might not have a fire escape off one of the windows. All the shades were drawn anyway, and I didn't want to go peeking through them, especially after how Maria reacted to my peeking at the photograph...
I noticed it then, the photographs weren't just turned, some of them were actually removed, ones on that hung on the walls, were actually removed, you could tell by the spots where the wall was slightly paler. And a few of the stand-alone ones that were there when I went for my shower seemed to be gone now. Weird. It's not like I was going to peek... probably, anyway.
The clang of dishes made me look back up to the kitchen, and I saw Ellen walking towards me, a plate in her hand. She placed it in front of me... on it, arranged in a circle were wedges of sliced apple and horizontal chunks of cheese. "Just in case you were hungry."
It did look good, I'd probably have some, although maybe not right while she was watching. It was stupid, considering how nice she was being, but for some reason I didn't want to give her the satisfaction.
She sat down on the edge of the armchair and rested her hands on her knees. "You can watch TV if you'd like, or take anything else from the fridge. You don't have to eat this, it's just my.... Maria likes it as a before-bed snack." I nodded. "If there's anything else you need, just knock on my door there... don't go into Maria's room, though. It might interfere with the transformation." Which raised an interesting question... how exactly did it work? Does she transform at a certain time in the sleep cycle, and if I'm there when that time comes, it messes it up? Does it happen all at once, or over a period of time? I was about to ask, but Ellen wasn't even a Lolly Anne, and if what they say was true, she'd never watched it happen. "Okay. I'm going to try and get some sleep myself. If there's anything else you need... anything... just knock, okay?"
I realized that I hadn't answered anything she said for some time. I never intended to be rude. Even if my feelings were a little confused, deep down I knew that none of this was her fault. "Oh. Thank you, so much, for everything." She nodded, and smiled, and for a moment it was easy to smile back, genuinely. My thank-you probably wasn't quite so sincere-sounding, even though I meant it.
Ellen got up and went to her separate bedroom, gently patting my head as she passed the couch, and I was alone.
While eating the apples and cheese I flipped through the TV, and then peeked at the shows recorded on DVR. Some reality shows, a couple dramas I liked, and, to my surprise, a fair amount of tween-girl shows, stuff from the Disney channel or Nickelodeon. I wondered if, just like I enjoyed action-adventure cartoons, Ellen had a weakness for tween comedy shows she enjoyed in her youth. Or maybe it was Maria, indulging her childish side as I'd been told Lolly Annes sometimes did.
I decided to watch one, something about friends who become dancers on a TV show, but whether it was the show itself or my own tiredness, I just couldn't get into it. So, about halfway through I turned it off, turned out the lights, and tried to sleep.
The next thing I remember, I was in a partly finished basement again. A man had his hands on my shoulders, and pressing down with such force that I was unable to move. I looked down and saw that though he wore a shirt, his pants were down, out of sight, maybe around his ankles or maybe off entirely, and he had a stubby penis bouncing out of a dark cloud of pubic hair.
I was naked too, and the cock was getting close to my pussy... a thought that didn't even carry with it an undercurrent of dissonance, about how strange it was I even had a pussy. I was too worried about what was going to happen next... and before I could worry anymore, it was in, pushing, painfully. My eyes snapped shut and I let out a grunt of pain, through my teeth... I wanted to scream, but I was afraid to, too. The pain went on for a minute or so, a searing, invasive pressure down to the core of me, jabbing me and then pulling out just enough to make me think it was over, only to go back in again.
Until it was over, and the thing, the penis, disappeared, and most of the pain went along with it (leaving only a dull throb), and I opened my eyes to see a white liquid squirting out and on me, just below my belly button. It felt impossibly warm for a moment, and then rapidly faded so much that, other than by sight, I couldn't tell it was there at all. "That's enough for today... you did such a good job." the man said, but I wouldn't look him in the eye. In fact, I just stared at the puddle of pearly white, and then, the sheen of blood on his dick. Red was coming out of me, and I started crying. "Shhh," he said, suddenly sounding almost nice, like he was a father trying to comfort a daughter, not like he was just trying to shut me up. "We'll get you cleaned up and it'll just be our little secret."
One of his meaty hands went to his chin, and pulled me up to look at him, but before he did... I woke up.
Still in the couch made up like a bed, I was safe, as far as I could tell. I exhaled a long and measured breath, to calm my racing heart. It was terrifying, and, to be honest, I was left with a feeling of disgust for men, even though I spent most of my life as one. And yet... down between my legs, I was warm and wet, and down beneath the disgust, there was something pulsing.
I slipped one hand tentatively down into my pajama bottoms and stroked the slit. Even wetter than I thought it was, and before long what was a gentle touch out of curiosity lingered and persisted and returned with renewed force. One finger was joined by another, and then by my whole hand, groping the absent space that used to have a cock, and playing around in the mess of a gooey crack.
And while I masturbated, I thought back about the dream... not exactly as it happened, there was too much pain and fear to be turned on by that directly, but I knew I could take a much larger cock and enjoy it. But the notion of being held down, completely under somebody else's control, leaving him free to ravish me in any way he wanted, and me being able to do nothing but take it... or maybe multiple men, taking turns, switching off, leaving me no time in between to rest, just giving me orgasm after orgasm until I was all worn out...
I let out a little moan, half-pleasure, half-frustration. I was so hot, so slick, and for all the rubbing I was doing, I couldn't reach that point, couldn't crest that peak where everything afterwards was a high-energy thrill-ride downhill.
Instead, I was stuck. Turned on, wet, hot all over, I continued trying until I got too tired and stopped for a while... but stopping didn't quell the urge. I'd try to sleep, turn over a few dozen times, and then go back to rubbing and groan, remembering one of the golden rules of Lolly Annes... you can't get yourself off.
So, what was I supposed to do? Stay here all night, kept awake by an almost irresistible urge to masturbate, and yet unable to just finish, get it over with, and sleep? Risk waking up Maria? Or sneak out and see if I can find somebody to fuck? That last one was crazy, the stupidest way to solve it I could possibly come up with, but it goes to show how hard to think straight it was, because I actually considered it. Another moan escaped my lips. I was trying not to make noise, but it was so maddening.
I froze stiff as I became aware of a long creaking noise. It came from inside the apartment, rather than outside, and once I got over my initial panic, I pulled my hand out from my pajamas and looked over the top of the couch.
Ellen was emerging from her room. She wore a long t-shirt just barely covering her butt. The sweatpants were gone, and she was barefoot. On her face, there was an expression of concern, like a parent checking on a child... no, not quite, maybe like an aunt checking on a child sleeping over. She approached slowly, and it was only when she got to the couch that she whispered, "Is everything all right?"
I didn't know how to answer. It was so embarrassing. I just shrugged and tried to turn away.
"It's okay," she said. "Do you need help to get off?"
My head snapped back and I looked her in the eyes. She held my gaze, her smile looking sheepish but her overall demeanor calm and confident. My eyes broke away first, roaming over the rest of her body. Even that was looking more attractive now, somewhere between a pear-shape and an hourglass figure, with breasts that were looking particularly plump, even though they were slightly smaller than her hips. My tongue ran out over dry lips. "Kinda, but..." I let the objection remain unspoken. But what about Maria?
"It's okay," she said again. "I can help, if you want." She circled the couch and then sat down on the couch near my feet. "Maria's told me how hard it is when the urges hit, and nobody's around. Especially the first time." She must have sensed reluctance from me, and added, "It's up to you. But I don't mind. And neither does my husband."
My eyebrows seemed to raise of their own accord. "You've, umm... discussed this?"
"It came up when we were on our way to get you. Maria knew you might need help while she was asleep. And it's not like I never touch my husband while she's a girl."
I'd wondered. "It doesn't freak you out?"
She shrugged. "It was a little weird at first, just because it was hard to believe it was actually Mario. But otherwise... my first sexual experience was with another girl, you know? We were both around the same age as Lolly Annes are. So it's not like I didn't know what to do."
I looked down at my pajamas, suddenly strangely uncomfortable. It was somehow more intimate for a grown woman to suggest helping get me off. A man, okay, that just meant, as a girl, I was sexually desirable. Another Lolly Anne, well, they understood exactly the feelings I'd been suffering, and in my mind, I could pretend we were just two girls experimenting. But a woman? That harkened back to something in the part of my brain, my self, that was still male, and a little flummoxed when a woman directly came onto me. The thought made my face warm. But then, my pussy was also warm. And if somebody was offering, I didn't think I was in a position to refuse. "Okay..." I said. "I guess I could use a little help."
"Which of the two hungers are you feeling most?"
Two hungers? "... What?"
"Didn't anybody explain about the two hungers?"
I shook my head. Maybe it was in the pamphlet. I never got a chance to read it.
"Oh." She paused, and sucked on her lower lip for a second as she thought about how to explain it. "From what Mario's told me, when you're in your girl form, because of the curse, you have two hungers. There's the hunger to please, and the hunger to be touched. Lolly Annes want to both... give and receive."
She nodded, and for the first time looked a little embarrassed herself, her lips twitching before she spoke again. "Maria always sleeps better when both hungers are satisfied. But you're not all the same, and I don't know what else you've done today, so... just tell me what you need."
The last time I'd personally climaxed was in a sixty-nine with Barbara, before all the shooting began. Since then, I'd made those black guys cum... I hadn't realized the desire to do that was part of the curse, although it didn't entirely surprise me, either. Really, though, how would I know? When you're aroused, don't you usually want to make the other person cum? Maybe not everybody does, but I always had, even when I was a guy. Hell, the thought of getting somebody else off was itself a turn-on... taking them to the limits of pleasure, feeling them practically lose control of their bodies for a short time, it was empowering.
So the thought of Ellen's pussy quivering under my tongue... yeah, that had a fuckload of appeal to me in that moment. But I didn't want to ask for that, even if it was offered... it seemed wrong, somehow, and not in the fun sense of the word, that this was Maria's wife. I was uncomfortably horny and that wouldn't change without help, so if she got me off, I could just look at it as charity, like she was rendering assistance to a medical need. And it sure felt like a medical need at this point. But if I got her off, it felt like some kind of cheating.
Some kind of cheating I really wanted to do, mind you, and for which she'd given me the excuse... I could claim it as another kind of medical need. But it felt dishonest. So I said, "I think I just need help getting off." And then, my mouth betrayed me by leaving the door open when I found myself adding, "Right now."
She nodded, and patted her upper thigh. "Come, sit here."
I slid sideways on the couch, and then, seeing her expectant look, hopped onto her lap, the feeling causing my suddenly reduced size to once again come to the foremost of my thoughts. I hadn't sat on a woman's lap since... well, I couldn't even remember. Even my mom... well, my adopted mom, I'd never really done it much with her, at least after I was a toddler. It felt surprisingly comfortable.
At first I was sitting on it like I would on Santa's lap, but she turned me so that my back was resting against her boobs, my legs hanging off either side of one knee. Her hands were around my waist, but one began to slide towards my front, and then worked its way beneath my pajama bottoms. I shuddered in anticipation when I felt her fingers hit my mound and leaned back into Ellen. My head must have been resting on her boob... it felt a little like a pillow.
Ellen's fingers had gotten to my mound quickly, at least compared to their movement afterwards, which seemed almost agonizingly slow, advancing over the seemingly red-hot terrain, parting around my clit as if by instinct, and then sliding along the lips of my labia, providing light pressure that spread them, getting them prepared for a penetration that wasn't forthcoming, at least not yet. When they reached the bottom, Ellen squeezed and an unexpected finger made contact with the hole, teasing, getting wet, and then the whole hand started to retreat.
I shuddered and squirmed, my head jerking to the left, chin mashing up against her boob. "Shhh," she whispered, and I could feel her soft breath on the top of my head, like she was super close, close enough to kiss.
The fingers returned to her pussy, now sliding in the groove, making contact instead of going just around it, and only barely avoiding the clit. When the fingertips reached bottom, a finger slid inside her hole to the middle knuckle, and my hole clenched around it and I let out a little moan. Her hand coming around me from behind made me wonder if she was just doing the motions she'd be making if she was getting herself off... if so, she was an expert.
"You like that?" she asked, and I whimpered in the affirmative. "I usually just stick to the outside, when it's me." It was as though she read my earlier thoughts and was answering. "But Maria likes the penetration... maybe it's a Lolly Anne thing..." She sawed the finger in and out as she wiggled it inside me, and drove me wild.
I was close, but it wasn't enough. I needed at least another finger.. and more, I wanted to do more. My chin brushed against her shirt-covered nipple and my mouth opened, searching for it, like I was going to put it in my mouth and suck right through the fabric, but after a few attempts, I gave up... mostly because the heel of palm had begun grinding on the area around my clit. Every time the finger thrust inward, her hand pressed against my pleasure button and that was all I could think of. And I was already so worked up from my fruitless earlier attempts.
I was getting close to that long-denied orgasm when she slowed suddenly, the finger withdrew, and she went back to stroking two fingers along each side of the slit, practically teasing me, and then her fingers converged around my clit again.
When they squeezed, I lost it, my whole body shook with pleasure, and I must have cried out, or been about to, because a hand clapped around my mouth and she again shushed me and whispered, "Not so loud... the walls are thin..." I made up for my lack of ability to make noise by writhing more forcefully than I remembered doing before, my shoulders jerked back and forth and my back arched. Eventually, it was over... not just the orgasm, but the pressure on my clit, and instead she was stroking the edges of my pussy like she'd pet a nervous animal. The hand on my mouth vanished, and I caught my breath in one big gasp. "You want to keep going?" she asked. "Have another?"
Who would ever say no to having another orgasm, assuming you could? So I hurriedly nodded and made a grunt of agreement. I probably could have just said yes, but I wasn't feeling very verbal. I wanted another orgasm, and I was still horny enough to get one.
I guess it's a good thing guys can't have multiples, we've already got the reputation for being always horny, if we didn't have a refractory period we'd pretty much do nothing else but masturbate. Having a new time-share deal with a girl's body, I don't even understand why women don't. But then, Lolly Anne bodies don't quite work the same way as an average women, either, although the most prominent example was that we couldn't get ourselves off at all.
Ellen, though, was doing a good job at doing it for me. After the first orgasm, my level of pleasure had gone down to a more manageable level, where I could enjoy it without getting totally swept away by it, and able to focus on more than just getting off as quickly as possible. I did have other needs... or at least other desires, other hungers.
So, after a few minutes, as her fingers slid in and out of my warm, wet hole, I arched my back, and it was only partly my body reacting against the feeling of penetrating, although the way she her fingertips curled while they were inside me, stroking the inner roof of my hole, was making me tremble. Mostly, though, it was an excuse, and as my back pulled away from her body, my arm slipped into the gap, and felt around until I reached the bottom of her shirt.
I had intended it to be something of a surprise, I guess... not so fast that she couldn't stop it if she wanted to, but with the spontaneous ease that would seem like I hadn't really thought about it as much as I had. Because it didn't seem like the sort of thing that I should think about, plan on happening. As I said, this was Maria's wife, and so even though the two of them had supposedly agreed that this was okay, feeling her up felt a little like I was the other man, or woman, or little girl... but when I was that turned on, I guess I didn't care as much. Shame on me. But I still wanted it to be something that 'happened' as opposed to something I planned. Like a kiss, where you can fall into one for a few seconds before you entirely realize what you've done... except in this case, it would be more like, "Oops, I just started fingering you, didn't I?"
It didn't really work out that way, there was too much fumbling in those first few seconds, trying to get under her shirt, and then, when she used her free hand to help pull it up, I almost fell off her, and even after all that, my hand still had to work its way beneath panties.... I couldn't claim that I wasn't thinking about what I was doing, because it took far much effort.
But I did get there, and she made no move to stop me. The closest thing to a negative signal was the fingers inside me had briefly stopped moving while she moved to ease my access, and that hardly counted.
She had hair on her pussy, which I guess isn't that odd for a woman her age but still surprised me. It wasn't overly much, giving way to warm flesh just above her clit rather than a huge forest surrounding the lips. Clearly she kept it trim, but didn't go for the shaved look... maybe her husband liked it that way, having had enough of hairless pussies among the Lolly Annes that a little hair became a welcome change.
Her pussy was hot, when I finally made contact, but not as wet as I was expecting... there was some, but perhaps I'd gotten too used to the practically dripping pussies of Lolly Annes... real women sometimes need a little outside lubrication. I could also tell, feeling around like a blind person trying to get a really good look, that her pussy was wider, more open, probably with more in the way of visible labia.
I started rubbing her pussy, along the edges of the crack, like she said she did for herself... she had to know the best way to get herself off, didn't she? So I took her earlier comment as instruction. The position I was in, with my back to her and reaching behind myself, made everything a little awkward anyway, and at least this was a simple motion.
Even with that, I came again before she came at all... she gave me some soft "mmm" sounds, but no loud moans or sharp intakes of breath... maybe she was just more reserved in bed than a Lolly Anne was.
When I came the second time, I remembered my legs trembling, and I stopped stroking her, and this time her hand clapped over my mouth before I even started to get loud. After it ended, my hand began to move again, but my arm muscles were starting to get a little sore and pinched... I was young and supple, but it was an awkward position to be in for too long.
So, since I was no longer craving orgasm, I slipped away from her touch and turned around so that I was facing her. My hand went back beneath her underwear, and I watched the dreamy look in her eyes as I made contact with her pussy, squeezed it lovingly, and began to caress.
That's when I made my mistake. Not a fatal one, but I still feel somewhat guilty about it, and cringe a little when I think about it. I guess I got swept up in the moment, I mistook the dreamy look in her eyes for an invitation, and clambered forward for a kiss.
A hand stopped me at the last moment, popping up between my face and hers, so we never actually made lip to lip contact, but it was clear I was trying for it and had gotten shut down. I drew back and squinted my eyes so they were almost closed. I realized my mistake instantly and the shame was building up all over, making my face red. "Sorry."
At least she was understanding about it, which, well, it didn't make my embarrassment go away, but it at least made it less painful. "It's okay. Just... I'll only do that with my husband. Not like I do everything else with other people, but... kisses we save for each other."
It seemed like a reasonable restriction, at least as reasonable as anything else in these last twenty-four hours. Before I'd have thought a woman telling me we could fondle each other's privates, but kissing was off-limits to anybody but her husband would have been crazy, but in a world where people transformed into little girls who NEEDED sex on a regular basis? It seemed to make sense. Although I remembered Maria kissing Wendy (or was it Wanda? I couldn't remember)... did that somehow 'not count,' or was he in some sense cheating? He only did it as part of a dare on a webcam show, in order to pay for the documents I was going to need, so I certainly wasn't going to bring it up and potentially get him in trouble with his wife.
I still felt embarrassed, though, and unsure what to do next. The momentum of our encounter had been broken, and everything became awkward again. I couldn't look her in the eye for a while.
As it turned out, that wasn't as much of an issue as I feared. After I retreated, she took advantage of the added space to pull up her t-shirt, pinning the bottom under her chin. There was no bra, as I'd already determined from the impression her nipples made in her shirt, but now her breasts were exposed... large... more than a handful even if I didn't have tiny, kid-sized hands right now. Maybe they drooped a little, without outside support, but they were still attractive, although the areolas were larger and a darker red than I was used to. It wasn't a problem, and when she said, "If you want to kiss, you can kiss here..." I hesitated only a little bit before putting my lips on them, sucking the nipple which became very stiff and prominent, letting me nurse on it almost like a baby, although of course without the milk.
There was no special taste, but it was exciting nonetheless, and I quickly moved past my earlier embarrassment and returned my hand to beneath her panties, rubbing her as I sucked, licked, or occasionally nibbled on her nipples, all the while enjoying the sensation of her breath quickening beneath me.
When she came, if she came at all, it was a surprise. I say it like that because, later, I would come to wonder if it was faked, that she just wanted to give me the sensation that I'd got her off, to satisfy my 'second hunger.' I didn't, then, know whether it mattered if she really got off, or was it just psychological, and the important thing is that I believed I got her off? For most of my sexual encounters, it wasn't going to make much difference... Lolly Annes, well, we cum easily, and guys? It's hard for a guy to convincingly fake an orgasm. I suppose I could have asked somebody, but it didn't matter much... even though I frequently wondered about it, on the whole, I preferred the ambiguity.
It didn't even occur to me then. It was enough that she seemed to get off... although she was a quiet cummer. She just tensed up and held her breath, and then finally relaxed, breathing out deeply, and, a minute later said, "Phew, that takes care of me..." She looked down at me... I still had one of her boobs in my mouth. "We should probably both get some sleep... unless you need it again."
I pulled away and shook my head. I probably could have cum again, but the hunger... it wasn't there. So I climbed off her, and let her cover herself again, and then she got up and shuffled off to the bathroom, so quickly that I was left a little surprised. I imagine it was a sudden flush of guilt... I'd had similar feelings with my girlfriend, where I enjoyed the sex, but afterwards, felt bad because I knew she had a lot more feelings for me than I had for her, so I was sort of using her. What I'd been doing all day might be considered cheating on her, too although considering she thought I was a pedophile at that moment, in her mind the relationship was already over.
Ellen briefly made another appearance, moving from the bathroom to the spare room she was sleeping in, but only said a quick good night, which only added fuel to my speculation that she was feeling guilty. Her potential guilt, oddly, made me feel better, when I would have figured it should do the opposite. Maybe it was just because for the first time in hours I felt completely sated. I lay back on the couch, turned off the TV, and tried to get to sleep.
It didn't take very long. And this time, there were no dreams, or at least none I could remember, although I woke with the faint feeling that I'd been touched by somebody, and a weird sense of shame at the fact, like I was harboring a secret that I couldn't remember.
The first things I saw when I opened my eyes were my feet, and wiggling my tiny girlish toes dispelled any hopes that I'd somehow turned back (it was two days too early from what everyone told me, but that could have been my supposed Alpha mutation, for all I knew), or that the whole day was just one elaborate dream. But I was at least rested, and it took a few whole seconds before I thought about how there were people out there trying to abduct or kill me.
I pulled myself up into a seated position, and looked around. In the light of day, the apartment seemed both bigger and also a more conventional place, still homey, but like something out of a magazine. Maybe it was the lack of photos... all of them were still turned down or missing entirely. Then I looked down the hall, towards the master bedroom, and remembered why. It was to be a surprise... Maria was, supposedly, now gone for a month, and in her place was Mario.
The door was still closed, but I could see signs of movement underneath the door... not actual feet, but flashes of light and shadow reflected off the shiny wood from somewhere inside... and it was quite enough that, when I focused, I could hear soft conversation from within. Ellen was inside, with Mario.
I noticed the knob jiggle from contact, and my heart began pounding in anticipation. When the door opened, it was Ellen, who smiled and said "Good morning."
"Hi," I said, and then looked past her, into the room.
"Are you ready to meet my husband as he is the rest of the month?" I nodded. "Honey? Your guest wants to see you."
He came into view then, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I guess I was expecting the worst... or maybe it's just that, with a name like Mario, I had the subconscious association that he was a short, chubby plumber-type with bushy black hair and a thick mustache.
No, he looked... normal. Or maybe a little more attractive than normal, for a guy who was possibly even pushing forty. He seemed tall, at least a head taller than Ellen, and fit, like he spent time in the gym. His hair was short and dark, just a little longer than a military cut, and maybe very slightly balding, or just with one of those hairlines that are naturally high. On his face was just a hint of a smile, but his features seemed closed off, hidden, like he was used to not being open. But then maybe that was my own subconscious prejudices at play again... after all, I knew he was once a cop. He certainly looked like the kind of guy who might be... one of the ones that might go undercover as a drug dealer or something, if he just grew out his hair and maybe put a beard on. These days, I guess he could go undercover as an innocent little girl, lure out pedophiles... at least if he was still a cop.
He was dressed professionally, a dark suit over white dress shirt and silver-and-blue striped tie, something you could wear in an office, or, again, it could have been something a cop wore, one of the ones that were a high enough rank that they didn't have to wear the uniform. And, of course, he was now wearing a wedding ring.
Striding forward, he paused only a second to murmur something in his wife's ear, and then, while she ducked into the other room, he continued towards me, putting a large hand on my head, gently ruffling my hair. "Hey, kid... you have a good night?" I guess I was a kid compared to him, not just now, but also to me when I was a guy.
"It was okay." I stared up at him, getting a good look, trying to see Maria somewhere inside.
"Disappointed?" he asked.
"No, just... not what I pictured."
He shrugged, and turned his head away. "We've got to get going soon, to a safer place." I figured what he meant was a place that wasn't near his wife, considering there were killers after me, but as long as he was coming with me, I was happy enough. Okay, I wasn't completely happy... I missed Maria, and it really was hard to wrap my mind around the notion that this man before me was her. For all I knew, they did a switch, had some other guy sneak in to take me off Maria's hands. I didn't actually think that was the case, but with the picture frames all turned down, I wondered for a moment. "We can't stay here."
I gave him a nod, said, "Okay."
It was then that his wife came back out. She had a bundle of clothes and she handed them over to me, telling me, "These should fit you, when you're ready." I took them, nodded, and then looked around, decided it was best to get it over with, so I went into the washroom and changed.
The outfit was cute, a bright blue short-sleeved shirt and a dark skirt that went down to about the knee, plus clean socks. I wasn't sure it looked very good with my hair-color, which was itself a rather surprising thought, since I never cared much about my clothes before.
When I got out, I was surprised to learn that my worries about color-coordination, right or wrong, would be for naught. As soon as I came out, asking how I looked, Ellen said I looked great, and then Mario said I was missing one thing. He handed a mass of dark brown locks to Ellen, and she came to me, knelt down to eye-level, and put the wig on my head, adjusting it until it looked just right. "Why?"
"They're looking for a blonde," he explained. "It might be worth just cutting your hair. You could probably pass as a boy... but because it's your first time, you'd be stuck with short hair every time you go Lolly Anne."
I didn't want that... which was ridiculous, because compared to being captured by the bad guys and given an addiction that would make me do whatever they wanted just to get a fix, looking like a boy was a small price to pay... besides, I could still dress like a girl and then I'd just look like a short-haired girl. But I liked having my long blonde hair, and I wanted to keep it. "A wig works fine..." I said quickly. It didn't even itch like I thought I would, although I noticed how hot it felt right away.
"It's probably the best option now anyway, and hopefully we won't need to move again after this. You ready?"
Ellen spoke up before I could answer. "Do you want something to eat? I could throw some waffles in the toaster."
Waffles did sound pretty good. But Mario said, "No, we can just grab something at a drive thru. I don't want to be here any longer than we have to," He moved in close to his wife. "You going to be okay?"
She nodded, and they kissed. I looked away at that point. "Just be careful," I heard her say.
"Wait about half an hour," Mario said, to Ellen, not to me, and then stood beside me and gave me his phone. A game was on it, Time Surfer I think it's called, where you're always moving and trying to go as far as you can by diving down at the right time. To me, he said, "Keep your head down. If anybody talks to you, say as little as possible, pretend you're wrapped up in your game or texting or something. Understood?" I nodded. "If I get pulled into a conversation, and you can, wander away a few steps. Not out of sight, just so you let me do the talking." Again I nodded, and he offered his hand. I put mine in his, and it practically enveloped it. Soon, we were on our way down the hall to the elevator.
There was nobody there, but I kept my head down anyway, as we went for the elevator. The regular elevator, this time. I guess cameras didn't matter as much when we were leaving... maybe he even wanted people to see us leaving. He repeated the "Head down," advice just before the doors opened, and we went in.
Nobody was on when we entered, but the doors opened again one floor down. I could feel him tense up right before he let go of my hand, and I kept my head down and lifted the phone close to my face, starting a new game and doing my best to play. It actually took a fair amount of attention to play, or you'd fall off a cliff.
I did notice whoever entered was an older woman in her fifties or sixties. "Hello Mario."
"Hey..." he said, letting it drag on in that way that people did when they didn't remember somebody's name but didn't want to let on.
"Hi, Sara," she said, giving a cursory glance in my direction. Who the hell was Sara? Was that me? I didn't answer, just bobbed my head ever-so-slightly and kept my eyes glued to the phone. I actually died, in the game, but she couldn't see the screen, so I pretended I hadn't. "A little early for school, isn't it?"
I pressed the wrong part of the screen and, accidentally, I swear, exited out of the game... but there was a password prompt so even if I wanted to snoop on his phone, that wasn't an option. It must have been some parental-control type app, so a person could give their kid a game without worrying about them doing anything inappropriate. I could slide back to the game, or call 911, but without his passcode, but that was it.
"I'm taking her to a friend's place on the way to work," Mario said. "Her parents will take them both together." And I had a sudden intuition that I was strangely certain about... that the program wasn't a just-in-case app he'd purchased, and this lady wasn't mistaken. Mario didn't just have a wife... he had a daughter, too. It wasn't just the presence of a kids game on a phone, there was also the way they went out of their way to hide the photos, how they already had an apartment with an extra bedroom... one they never actually let me inside. Not to mention the kid's toothbrush.
I could have been wrong. Maybe he'd been seen with other Lolly Annes and set up a cover story of a daughter so that, if it ever happened, he could claim it was his daughter and not look like a pedo. Or maybe so, when he was Maria, he could claim to be the daughter. But then why use the name Sara? The woman didn't seem to know him well enough to recognize that I wasn't Sara, whatever she was supposed to look like, although perhaps the wig helped with that. She no longer paid me any attention, just nodded at the explanation, and then asked Mario if he heard anything about when they were fixing the dryer in the laundry room. He didn't know, or said he didn't, though he might have just been trying to keep the conversation short. We got to the ground floor, and the woman got off, saying goodbye to both of us. Our stop was the parking garage, and since we were alone as we descended, I spoke up. "So you have a daughter?"
His shoulders slumped, ever so slightly, like he was hoping I hadn't noticed or put it together. But he didn't try to lie at least. "Yes."
"Where is she?"
"Staying with a friend of Ellen's." The elevator opened, and we walked through the garage. Mario had the same style of walking through open areas in a dangerous situation that Maria did... always looking around, cautious of potential threats.
Nobody seemed to be around, though, so I asked, "Does she know? About you? Do..."
His answer was curt, and it stung. "My family life is really none of your business." Although maybe I deserved it, maybe he guessed the next words that were going to come out of my mouth were going to be "Do you ever do anything with her?" Because Lolly Annes got aroused, very aroused... and sleeping with underage girls, albeit other Lolly Annes, seems to be part of the culture. It doesn't seem that out of the question that the same feelings might crop up with a real child of the same age, if the feelings got too much. But it's one thing to wonder it, it's another thing to ask if a guy had sex with his daughter... so I'm glad he cut me off, even if it felt mean, if I'd actually said it he might never have forgiven me.
It still made things awkward until we finally reached his car, no conversation, just me following him. He got in the front, and when I went for the passenger seat, he cleared his throat. "In the back," he said.
I complied without question, and again when he asked for his phone back, but when he asked me to lie down and close my eyes, I had to ask. "Why?"
"Do you know where we are?"
"And I'd like to keep it that way."
Ouch. Was Mario meaner than Maria had been? Or was it all in my head, that everything just sounded nicer coming from a little girl? I didn't know. But he had been risking himself to save my life, so I lay down and closed my eyes, and kept them closed while he drove us out.
We drove for a while, before he spoke, sounding grudgingly apologetic. "Look, it's nothing personal. I like you. I'm going to do whatever I can to keep you safe. But my life is my life, and my family comes first. If I see you trying to stalk my home, or come anywhere near my family, we have a problem, but if you respect that, we're cool. Understand?" I nodded, but since my eyes were still closed, I didn't see if he was looking. "I took you home because it was the best option, but you have to understand I was taking a risk I don't normally take. I don't regret it, but it was a one-time thing. And that goes with whatever happened with Ellen, too." Well, at least I knew he knew about that. "One-time thing." I guess that was part of the reason he was so adamant about keeping away from his family.
"She said you were okay with it."
"I was. As a one-time thing. And I don't want to talk about it. We're just going to focus on getting you through your first three days as a Lolly Anne."
"So where are we going?"
"You remember how Wendy said she paid off a super to let her know about empty apartments she could use?"
"She stole that trick from me. Only in my case it's not exactly a super, it's a guy who manages low rent apartments... If I need a place, he sets me up. The only problem is, I couldn't ask him until I was Mario... he's a contact from when I was a cop, he's not involved in this world, and he's old enough that he doesn't text or e-mail if he can help it. All of which is a good thing in some ways, because nobody else in either the Alliance or the Company would know anything about it. You can open your eyes now."
I did, and sat up, too, and since I figured we must be far enough away that it was safe to take a look around. It was pretty clear that I had no idea where Mario lived... I didn't even know where I was... New York's a big city, I don't recognize all of it instantly. I did see we were near a drive thru. "Let's stop for breakfast," he said.
I just got a breakfast sandwich, eggs and bacon and cheese on an English muffin. I thought I was hungry but I only finished half of it... all of the bacon, of course, though. While I was eating, his phone rang, and he put a finger to his lips before he answered, on a headset because he was driving. It was somebody from the Alliance, and they talked for some time. Mario pretended to be working on finding me... eager for any news they might have, any sightings, rumors that the other side might already have me... he said something about checking with their contacts there, which I guess meant they had them, and advised whoever it was to keep looking.
By the time the phone call was done, we were approaching a rather drab, but very tall, apartment building. We parked in the underground, and took the elevator to the 14th floor. Then we took the stairs down two floors, and he led us to an apartment that was, apparently, unlocked.
It was a studio apartment, with a tiny kitchen living area and bedroom that was all, essentially, one room, and a second tiny room that was a bathroom. I bet if they could have gotten away with putting that in the main room, they would have. I lived in one much like it when I first moved out on my own, although mine wasn't pre-furnished. I guess they rented out to people who don't can't be trusted to spend long in any one place. To the point that, if you looked closely, the furniture was fastened to the floor to discourage theft (and it wasn't even great furniture to begin with). The fold out couch was already unfolded... whether the owner liked showing it that way, or it was simply left that in that state by the previous tenant (or, more likely, by whoever cleaned the room afterwards, since the place seemed relatively kempt), I didn't know, but it didn't matter, it was a room, and it was safe.
"It's not much," he said.
"It's fine," I told him, honestly. "As long as they won't find us here, it's fine." I took off my wig... it was too hot, and now it was starting to get itchy. I threw it on the pillow and then shook out my own hair.
"It should be safe. That's one good thing about New York, there are a million places to hole up and hide."
I didn't bring up that the last one of the million places seemed to get found pretty quickly. Instead, I plopped down at the bed, after taking one last look to be sure there wasn't any suspicious stains or insects or something suddenly visible close up. "So what now?" I spread my legs in a subtle manner... and then in a not-so-subtle manner. We both knew the score... we were going to be here a few days, and I was going to need sex sooner or later. I already was starting to feel the warm tingly, hyper-alert feeling of arousal. It was a foregone conclusion we'd be fucking... why not start now?
Mario looked over at me and his face sort of made a grimace, but I could see the longing look in his eyes. It was clear he wanted to, but also that he didn't want to want to. I guess I could see how it might fuck with your head, when you were back in your male form, especially if you never thought of yourself as a pedophile but still had vivid memories of being a little girl enjoying sex and being sexually involved with other little girls. Maybe that would happen to me, once I turned back, but right then, my natural Lolly Anne arousal made me not care.
"Now, it might be better if I go..."
"Go?" I asked in disbelief. "I thought you were going to stay with me... keep me safe."
"I want to," he said. "And I will, for the most part. But I can't be here 24/7. And we can't trust anybody to fill in for me... so I'm going to have to leave you alone for some of the time. If nothing else, to pick up groceries for the next couple days."
A grocery run I could probably get through, although I didn't want to be alone. "I could come with you..." Even if I had to put the wig back on.
"If anybody from either organization sees you with me..." He trailed off without stating the obvious... that it was a big risk. Possibly the only thing keeping me safe is the belief that I'm either with the Company or gone to ground alone. "In fact, the fewer people see you at all, the better. I also have to make some phone calls and put in a few appearances, since I'm supposed to be out there looking at you and trying to figure out whoever betrayed our safehouse and your location." My heart sank. It sounded like a lot of alone time, more than I'd expected, or prepared for. "I'll check in on you... and there's a TV." Old, bolted to the wall. I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't even work or just got antenna TV. I wouldn't mind so much being left alone a while if we at least got decent cable.
"Do you have to go right away? We could... do stuff for a while first?"
He smiled, it was tight but I thought it genuine nonetheless, due to the way the skin around his eyes crinkled. "I'd like to, but I could get a phone call at any minute... I don't want people wondering why I'm taking so long to answer. Better we hold off until I can at least establish a reason to be out of contact."
"I can be quiet..." I insisted, knowing it wasn't going to do much good. After all, if he sent his calls to voicemail, how would they know he wasn't just on another call?
"No, we better not..."
"I could suck your cock," I suggested. That the idea appealed to me no longer surprised me, although how openly I suggested it still did. I guess I really wanted to convince him to stay. "I wouldn't make any noises then." Well, maybe some 'mmm' sounds, but I could try my best to cut those out. "Besides, I want to know what's going on... it's my life here."
That seemed to do it. His face softened some, and he said, "Okay, if you're very quiet, I'll make what phone calls I can from here. But I'm still going to have to leave you alone, eventually, you understand?"
I nodded eagerly. "So... was that a yes or a no on the blowjob?"
Turned out it was a yes, although a somewhat reluctant one. He sat down in a metal-legged chair and unzipped his pants, and I got off the bed and knelt in front of him, prepared for my first look at his cock. I hoped it wouldn't be small, although I prepared myself to smile widely no matter what it looked like.
It was, unsurprisingly, about average. Somewhere between five and six inches (my smaller size still fucked up with my ability to estimate exact sizes), maybe on the low-end of that, and small compared to some of the others I'd had the day before, but respectable, and thicker than average... thicker than mine was, when I had one, I was pretty sure. It was circumcised, had a bulging vein along one side, and the skin was of a slightly darker tone than his normal complexion. And it looked delicious, so I gave my big smile and began licking all over with a childlike enthusiasm... not that children, I imagine, are usually enthusiastic about that particular thing.
After I'd moved on to straight on sucking, he picked up his phone and started dialing. I wondered at first if it might be to distract himself and stretch out the pleasure before he came... and then later was impressed at either his natural stamina or how well it worked. My jaw got tired before he reached a climax, and I wasn't even working my hardest... I, too, was distracted, listening in to his phone conversations. He'd left his headset in the car, and with the phone held up to his ear and me in his lap, I could sometimes hear what the other person was saying.
Sometimes I only got half of it, sometimes he was talking with a particularly loud talker, and I overheard most of it, although I didn't always understand it... there were a lot of references to people that I didn't know the context to. Between calls, he'd try to keep me appraised on what the current status was, some of which I already pieced together just by overhearing. I'd felt it in the car, but during this blowjob it reconfirmed my opinion... Mario was a pretty good actor. He talked to several different people who were out there looking at me, and he seemed to dance on the line of resignation over me being lost to the other side, and optimism that I might still be out there. At one point, I heard him on the phone with Pierre, who was less optimistic. "If they've got her, it's already too late," he said. "Even if we get her back, they'll have her so filled with drugs every time Michaela comes back she'll be in withdrawal."
"I know," he said. "But we'll keep looking until we know one way or the other. Besides, who knows what else they might do to her?"
Somebody else called him shortly after Pierre hung up, and came up with an idea, suggesting that maybe, Malcolm or Barbara told me about one of the neutrals, and I specifically heard the words "Kelly" and "Alice statue", memorable because Mario himself once told me the same trick. And while that suggestion was given, he grimaced a little, and although I was sucking on just the head of his dick at that time, I think it was more that he was annoyed that a contingency plan was now no longer as useful, because the Alliance considered it possible that I was there, and if it was compromised, and I ran there, I might head right into the clutches of the enemy. But from his voice, you'd have thought he was proud of the suggestion. "That's good thinking, follow that up, and see if Kelly noticed anything."
After that, he made other calls, while I continued sucking on his seemingly tireless cock. I couldn't wait to try it out in my pussy, which was now starting to get noticeably wet again. But that would have to wait until after he was off the phone, and that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
Directing the supposed search for me was only one of the major topics of conversation. There were three others. He checked in with Samuel, on the condition of Barbara, who was stable in the hospital, and had already made the news, although they were currently reporting it as a child bystander injured in a gang shooting. He worked on trying to nail down how the Company found our safehouse, going over possible leaks, hoping to find some explanation that didn't mean a betrayal by the inner circle. This was hampered somewhat by the realization that some of the records they needed to look through belonged to Barbara and couldn't be easily accessed without her presence. There was even some tense speculation that she might have been the leak all along, although nobody wanted to believe it. I didn't either, although I hardly knew her... but it just seemed crazy that a Batgirl fan would be the villain. Naive, I guess, but I believed it anyway.
Mostly, though, Mario was trying to get in touch with somebody who's heard from Adam... and nobody had. That was getting increasingly distressing. People had gotten responses from employees in whatever business Adam ran, who assured anyone inquiring he was fine but just busy, but as for actual contact? Nobody in the Alliance had had any.
After he hung up from yet another call asking after him, and was clearly frustrated, I pulled my lips off his cock and asked, "Do you think he's okay?"
He exhaled with a force that made his nostrils flare. "I don't know," he admitted. "Adam's a bit of a flake sometimes. Brilliant, but a flake. It's less than 24 hours, he's been out of touch for longer than that... he often drops off the grid entirely when he changes into a girl, though that's not due for a while. So it could be nothing... maybe he just forgot to charge his phone and had a late night. But all this happening at the same time... it's troubling."
"So you think the Company might have... attacked?" I trailed off.
"Without Adam, the Alliance pretty well collapses. Not right away, but... we couldn't keep it going for long, certainly not at this level of operation. He's been a big target for a while..."
"What's so special about Adam?" He didn't seem to be much in the way of a leader. I hoped he was okay, but it seemed like they could function without him.
"Aside from being a billionaire?" he asked, and gave an amused grunt when he saw my eyes widen. "You didn't know?" I shook my head. "Billionaire's probably an exaggeration.. but it's definitely in the hundreds of millions."
I remembered then, why his smile seemed familiar... I had seen something about him on TV, once, he was one of those young billionaires who rose to riches after some Internet startup. I couldn't remember which one, maybe Twitter or something... nor could I remember his full name, but I remembered the face, and that he was described as being media-shy. I wondered if he was like that before, or being cursed to turn into a little girl every month made him that way.
I had a sudden gut feeling that Adam was cursed on purpose, by the Company, to advance some end, maybe just something as straightforward as to extort money out of him. It might explain why he came to be so opposed to their methods that he struck out on his own and formed, or joined, the Alliance. Like that old Mel Gibson movie where they wanted a ransom for his son and he instead offered it to anybody who captured the kidnappers... they wanted his money, but he was stubborn enough to make it backfire on them. I was sure enough about it that I was willing to ask, get it confirmed. "Did..."
Mario's phone went off again, and he looked down at it, and I looked down at his cock, still swollen, a little softened since I'd stopped actively sucking on it, but engorged all the same. One hand touched the top of my head and pulled me towards him as his phone still rang. I took the hint, and went back to work on the everlasting blowjob.
"What have you got for me?" he asked the person on the other end of the phone. This time, I couldn't make out what they were saying... but Mario sounded interested. "What time? You have any confirmation on that?" I guess he did, because the next thing Mario said was, "Well, that's a bit of good news... sounds bad, but at this point, I'll take it. Make sure you confirm it, and keep looking. And go over anything that might have been used to track anybody who was at the safehouse... phones, cars... clothes, if you have to. This means Samuel too."
He still hadn't cum by the time he got off the phone, but I had to pull off again and ask. "What happened?"
"O'Brien... he was checking the surveillance footage of where he does most of his work for us..."
"He's pretty sure he saw some Company agents staking out his place."
"...okay." I didn't quite see the point, and the way I said it made that clear.
"They didn't make a move, they were seeing if you'd show up there." He took a breath and said, "Attacking you at the safehouse was probably the riskiest move they could make, since you'd be guarded by professionals. Until now, I've been assuming they simply couldn't get into motion to snatch you earlier... it all happened pretty fast. But if they had a team at O'Brien's, ready to intercept you..."
"They knew about O'Brien then," I pointed out. "So it's still a leak..."
"Yes, but a lot of the Alliance knows about O'Brien... so the Company probably already knew about him, too, and they could have guessed I might go for him. But that means they guessed... if they legitimately were waiting for us there, then this clears the Inner Circle... at least of direct involvement. Maybe they planted a tracking device on one of us, or something, maybe somehow they got a list of our safehouses and sent teams to several. It's still a problem we need to root out, but it's not crippling."
"Why send a team to O'Brien if I wasn't there," I filled in the logic out loud.
"Right. Standard procedure would have been to take you to him... but I took you to see Walters, and the Inner Circle all knew it. If the Company knew we were going there, they could have met us there just as easily, maybe more easily. Walters does work as a neutral, the Company could probably find him, or her, too if they wanted to, but they'd have to know to go there. So if there was a mole in the Inner Circle, they could have used that." He wasn't smiling, but his eyes were, he seemed like a weight had come off his shoulders.
So I smiled for him. "That's good."
"Hell yeah it's good." He nudged me to move out of the way so he could stand up without bumping me. "Come on, let's try out the bed."
My thoughts said, "Yay!", but out loud I said, "Aren't you worried about another phone call?"
"I think I can afford to turn it off a few minutes." I wondered if the phone thing was just an excuse all along... maybe he simply wasn't in the mood, so worried that his friends had betrayed him that he couldn't just let go and relax. That could be why he had so much trouble cumming, too.
So I hoped on the bed and started undoing my skirt. "You sure?" I asked. I don't know why, considering how eager I was to see how good a fuck he was.
"Yeah... don't worry about it," he said, and by now I had my skirt off and I was pulling off my underwear. "Pierre can handle it for a while, he's officially second-in-command until Adam gets back anyway."
Something tugged at a corner of my mind as I removed my panties and spread my legs. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was something about Pierre. Mario shucked off his pants and underwear completely, hopping for just a moment to clear them of his feet. I pulled off my shirt, still trying to think about what it was about him that had caught my subconscious attention.
Something bugged me, but I didn't know what.
The guy could have died, if I'd chosen him to stay with me at the safehouse, I realized. I probably would have taken Barbara regardless, but I wanted a guy, and Pierre had seemed eager to come. But I was a little annoyed at him for what happened in my past, and wasn't sure I could deal with too many revelations at once, so I chose Malcolm... and he died instead. It was unsettling to think that simple, emotional decision I made resulted in one person dying instead of another. Not that I would have wanted to think through the decision knowing the consequences in advance. How would you even weigh something like that? I liked Malcolm a lot, but if Pierre had died, I might never learn about my parents. Maybe THAT was what was bothering me. The answers I'd been promised could have potentially suddenly disappeared, and I was only now realizing it.
As Mario advanced on me, shirt on but tie loosened, and he placed his hands on my knees, I tried to put it out of my mind, telling myself that I couldn't even say for sure what would have happened if I chose differently. Maybe Pierre would have been alert, maybe he could fight them off. Or maybe he'd turn out to be a coward and turn me over without a fight...
I put my hand on Mario's shirt before he entered me. I'd hit on something, and I needed a moment to think before the sexual urges overwhelmed me. "Wait," I said. And he did. His cock bounced against my hole. "The Inner Circle..." he looked at me, waiting. "They all knew you were going to Walters..."
"Except Pierre. He was getting my... orientation kit when we talked about that." Starter kit, that's what they called it, but I remembered a second too later.
His face froze. "You're sure?"
I nodded. "And he volunteered to come with me at the safehouse."
Mario drew back, his cock softening, face hardening into a grimace. He turned away and said one word. "Shit."
It wasn't conclusive. They still might have found us through one of the other ways. But if somebody on the Inner Circle was a mole... well, we had a prime suspect.
And it was Adam's second-in-command.
End of Installment #4
Next Time: "Prime Suspect"
Bonus!: So, now that we've officially met Mario, that's the end of Maria for the foreseeable future, and I already miss her... but, if you miss her too, to tide you over, you can enjoy a picture drawn by artist Polyle graciously drawn at my request as part of his infrequent Original Character themed Make-A-Request-Mondays. The outfit isn't meant to match anything in the story, just one of many outfits (and, for that matter, hair styles), she's worn in her time as a Lolly Anne. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, by clicking here.
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