It soon became obvious that no answer was going to magically appear. It didn’t seem like I was going to suddenly turn back, and believe me, I tried. I wished, I prayed, I visualized my body expanding and growing a penis. When all that failed, I was left once again with no idea what to do. I began to cry. First a sniffle, then full on tears streaming down my cheeks. It was the first time I cried since I was twelve, but then, I was around twelve again. I had good reason to cry. I was stuck in a little girl’s body, police surely on their way to my home, my girlfriend thought I was a pedophile, and I was all alone in a dim stairwell, with nothing to my name except literally the shirt on my back.

What’s worse, I had to pee. I had felt the urge a little since I’d first woken, a light pressure in my abdomen, but it was getting worse. I should have taken care of it instead of exploring myself. Oddly, though, it was that growing biological urge that kicked me out of my tearfest. I wiped my eyes on the shoulder sleeves of my shirt, and stood up. Either I would have to urinate in the stairwell, or I’d have to find somewhere else to do it, and I would prefer a toilet.

There was no public washroom in my building but I supposed that I could knock on a door and pretend to be a lost girl. There were a lot of elderly people living here who were home during the day and would probably not notice that I was naked under the T-shirt.

At least it seemed like a viable plan, which put it a step up above everything else I'd thought of doing. I took a deep breath and got to my feet to focus on the next question: where? I was near the fourth floor landing. Fifth floor was out of the question, in case Sharon saw me, and I didn’t want to wander around the fourth in case Sharon somehow knew where I exited the first stairwell. I might run into cops on the first floor, so that left me with either the second or third floor. At first I was going to choose the third floor, because it was closer, and there wasn’t any other difference between the two. Except, there was, I suddenly realized. I knew somebody on the second floor.

I met Colin a couple months ago in the building’s laundry room. When I went in to put a load in, he was waiting for the dryer to finish up. I noticed he was reading a Stephen King book, and commented on it, because it was a good book. We got to talking, and we liked a lot of the same things, so we’d hung out a couple times, grabbed some drinks at a bar or shared a pizza at one of our apartments.

I didn’t have many close friends, I guess I was a little bit of an introvert. Most of the people I associated with was through Sharon, another reason I was reluctant to break up with her even though she wasn’t The One. I had a few friends of my own but most of them now lived pretty far away, and I was pleased to be developing a local friendship of my own, the kind of person that I could just call up and do something with without preparation.

I didn’t yet know Colin well enough to know if he would be home, but I knew he was unemployed and looking for a job, so my odds were good. It was better than nothing. If I could talk to him, I was sure I could convince him who I was. Even if that failed, I’d get to pee.

Soon after making my decision, I found myself knocking at his door, my legs crossed and thighs squeezing together tightly. It really wasn’t an act, the need was getting to be pretty intense, and I was relieved when I heard somebody moving around inside. If I had to wait much longer, I’d go on the hallway carpet.

The deadbolt opened first, with a click, and then the door swung open, but only a crack. It wasn’t Colin looking down at me. It was his roommate, Rick. He was taller, rounder, less groomed than Colin, who wasn’t exactly a metrosexual himself. Colin at least shaved regularly. Every time I’d seen Rick, it was like he had about a day and a half of beard growth, like he couldn’t be bothered to either grow a full on beard, or shave more than once every few days. Today was no exception. I didn’t know Rick very well, he came out for one of our shared pizzas, and we played a few games online, the three of us, but that was about the extent of our interactions. He seemed okay but I hadn't entirely warmed to him. Looking out of his door, Rick's eyes darted first to my new body, then down both directions of the hallway.

“Can I please use your bathroom?” I begged. “I got locked out of my place.”

“Oh,” he said, seemingly flustered a moment, but then he opened the door wider and stepped out of the way. “All right.”

Inside, the place seemed pretty much like it did the last time I saw it, a little dingy, cluttered, in need of a woman’s touch, but I didn’t really care. The smell of the air, a little like acrid sweat, was stronger than I remembered, but all in all it was a relief to be on familiar ground. The halls and stairwells are too generic to be comforting, but in this place it was almost possible to forget what happened.

At least, until I got into the bathroom. I ran there as soon as he let me by, like I owned the place, but after I'd closed the door I was about to pee like a man. Flipping up my shirt and grabbing hold of myself wasn’t all that was necessary this time, especially with nothing to grab hold of. It took me a second or two before I realized how my new body worked. I put down the seat, quickly wiped it with some wet toilet paper just for peace of mind, and then sat. For a second I was worried that I wouldn’t know how to pee as a girl, no matter how much I wanted to, but the instincts were roughly the same.

There wasn’t the force of my previous urination, but it still came out in a warm rush, not a trickle but a torrent that felt like it would be difficult to stop until I was done, not that I wanted to try.

It was such a relief, the swiftly decreasing pressure as I emptied my bladder of what seemed like far too much liquid to fit inside my new body. Almost like an orgasm, in its way, the release of so much tension and anxiety all at once… but anybody who tells you it’s as good as sex is a liar, at least in my own experience as a girl... but then, that might not be typical.

Finally it was over, and I was left with a new problem. I didn’t know how girls took care of their business after they took care of their business. There wasn’t exactly anything to shake, and the little tight-mouthed vertical smile between my legs didn’t seem dirty or anything, but, just to be safe, I took a square of toilet paper and patted myself dry there. Contact with the pussy still provoked a shudder of pleasure, and I had a feeling that if I stayed there I wouldn’t be able to resist masturbating, so I flushed, made sure the t-shirt covered myself, and washed my hands.

When I emerged, Rick was there, a few steps away from the bathroom door, like he was waiting, maybe even listening. “Thanks,” I said. But what now. “Um, do you mind if I hang out here a bit? Like I said, I’m locked out of my place."

“Oh, um, sure. Do you need my phone or anything? To call your mother?”

If I was who I pretended to be that would certainly be the next step. I did want a phone, but I still had to figure out who I was going to call. Luckily, remembering numbers wasn't a problem... I've always been pretty good at memorizing those, to the point that I always found it a little odd that others had trouble. Then again, forgetting sometimes served as a good excuse... one that could afflict a kid just as well as an adult. “Yeah, the problem is I left my cell phone in my apartment,” I said. That part was the truth, even if the rest wasn't. “And her number’s in there, I don’t have it memorized.” I quickly added, “But I’m sure somebody will be home soon.” In the meantime, I could try and figure out exactly who to call about my problem.

“Sure,” he said with a little smile. “Just make yourself at home, you can watch TV if you like.” He waved towards the living room couch, and then disappeared into his room. I sat, thinking carefully about what to do with my legs. I was going to have to get some kind of clothes soon. As it was, any inadvertent movement could expose me. I tried various positions, including sitting on my legs with my shirt pinned between my ankles and my ass, but was worried that my feet might hurt after too long. So finally decided that I’d just sit normally, feet on the floor, back of the shirt tucked underneath me. As long as I remembered to keep my knees close together, the shirt would still cover my modesty.

A few minutes later, Rick returned. He sat on the couch beside me. There was something new in the air, a scent… not an especially pleasant one, either. Overpowering, almost oily. The main problem was the strength, if it was softer, milder, it might have even been enjoyable. “So, what’s your name?”

Mike, but that didn’t seem appropriate. I did the obvious thing, feminized it. “Michaela.”

“And how old are you, Michaela?” he asked.

“Twelve,” I replied automatically. There was no good answer to that question, but twelve was about how I decided that I looked.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

He laughed, a short nervous one. “Touché. I won’t tell if you won’t.” He shifted slightly closer to me, and I realized what the smell was. Cologne. Probably Axe or something like it. I felt like laughing. Did he actually think something was going to happen?

Apparently so. His next question was, “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No,” I said coldly. “I think I’m a little too young for that.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said and suddenly his hand landed on my knee, like it was some kind of casual, friendly gesture. His hands were rough, but very warm, or maybe my knees were cold and I’d just gotten used to it. I sucked in a little bit of breath as he continued. “Lots of girls your age have boyfriends.”

“Well, I don’t.” I shuffled my body away from him, towards the edge of the couch, near the arm.

That was a mistake, for he must have been looking at my legs. He tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “What are you wearing under that shirt?”

“Nothing,” I admitted. “I didn’t really expect this to happen.”

His hand returned to my knee, then slid quickly above it. Once it stopped on my thigh he pulled back, spreading my legs and making my pussy visible. I didn’t know how to react, it was so surreal. My first day as a girl and already I’m getting molested. “Let me see,” he said, but he already saw, and more, he moved right on to touching without even asking.

I’d always expected a girl would feel outraged, even terrified at something like this happening, and probably most do, but the only fear I felt was at myself, how much I wanted it to continue. When his hand closed over my little mound it was like an electrical connection had been made and I started getting aroused and tingly, especially down there. Hot, too, and starting to get moist inside. “Wow, that’s really nice,” he said softly. “You’ve got a really nice pussy here, Michaela.”

“We shouldn’t do this,” I said. Even though I wanted to, even though I was practically squirming against his hand.

“Shh,” he said, and slipped one finger between my labia, and inside, not deep at all, barely more than the tip, much like I did myself not long before, but was much, much better. How do I describe that, the penetration? It’s like there was a missing piece to my body, and he’d just put it in. No, that’s not quite right… it felt like he put something that was almost right in there. Not quite, enough for me to feel complete, but enough that I noticed the missing bit and but was happy with something, something, anything to fill the gap. I instinctively squeezed on his fingertip, trying to make the hole fit around the intrusion. “You like that, don’t you?”

I couldn’t help myself, I made a sound, like an “Uh-huh,” and that encouraged him. Rick slid another fingertip. When he inserted the first, it didn’t hurt, but it was a little rough. It barged in. By the time the second finger approached, I was well lubricated, it slid inside on my own wetness. And two felt so much better than one, even though neither went in very deep at all, like he was taking his time so he didn't want to spook me. I inhaled sharply and then exhaled deeply, trying to control the pleasure. I feared if I didn’t, I might become a slave to it. I already wanted him to stop teasing and thrust his fingers all the way in. Instead, he rubbed around the hole, and then came out entirely to rub up and down the slit.

“Wow, you’re getting pretty wet,” he said. “This is one of the best pussies I’ve ever touched. You really should be proud of it.” What he said wasn’t really important, though. At that point he could have been reciting the Gettysburg Address and I would have been just mentally begging him to skip the four score and just give me seven inches. My eyes fell on the crotch of his sweatpants, visibly tented. He caught me at it, and met my eye. I blushed and looked away. “You want to see?” he said. “It’s only fair.”

He let go of me for a second, and then pulled the front of his pants down. There, standing proudly though not especially tally, was his cock. It was uncut, maybe four inches, but to my new eyes it looked enormous, and it was wider than average. There was plenty of pubic hair around it, and the head glistened with moisture. I stared openly.

It shouldn’t have been so fascinating to me. Up until yesterday, I had a cock of my own. They held no mystery. I hadn’t even had any experimental gay experiences growing up. Yet there I was staring at it like a slut. Whatever had turned me into a girl, had changed my sexuality as well.

“Go on, you must know what you do now, right?” Rick asked. “Every twelve-year old knows how to give a blowjob. At least, every cool one does. You’re cool, right?” It was ridiculous, amateurish. I hoped it wouldn’t work on an actual girl, but for some reason it was working on me. Maybe it was because we have the sexual knowledge and appetites of an adult transplanted into the body of a little girl, or maybe we’re made sluts at heart, as some people think. As crazy as it was, I wanted to try it.

Despite my worries that I was losing myself, treading down a path better left unexplored, I leaned forward and opened my mouth. My tongue touched first, encountering a salty, slimy taste. I didn’t want to linger on it, but instead try to imitate the girls on porn movies, and get as much of it into my mouth as I could. My mouth wasn’t very big. I couldn’t get more than halfway down before I began to fear I might throw up. I wasn’t all that happy with the increasingly powerful chemical aroma… he must have sprayed the body spray directly on his crotch and that was threatening my gag reflex as much as the hard rod threatening to hit the back of my throat. Startlingly, other than that, the cock in my mouth didn’t disgust me, it felt a little weird, a little warm, but filling. I liked the way my lips slid over the head. My main problem was my tongue, it felt pinned to the base of my mouth. I wanted to move it, like some girls had done for me when I had a dick, but the best I could manage is a bit of a wiggle.

That seemed to be enough for Rick. “That’s it,” he said, and then, as I began to pull back, I felt his hand on the back of my head, pushing me forward again. “You’re a natural. Keep going.” I didn’t have much choice, the pressure he was exerting was gentle, but increased the closer I got to pulling off. He must have been afraid I’d back out. That wasn’t the only reason I kept it up, I found it inexplicably arousing. I always assumed oral sex was something girls did because they were taught guys liked it, rather than because they wanted to, but if I was any indication, that was a lie. Between my legs a fire was growing, and just thinking about what I was doing fanned the flames. I shifted on my knees as much as I could with Rick’s hand on my head, and managed to get into a comfortable position where I could slip one hand between my legs. “Yeah, you like it, don’t you?” I did, as mysterious as that was even to me, and I couldn’t resist letting a sound out that betrayed that.

A minute later, the hand stopped forcing me down. I didn’t stop, not until he pushed me backwards with one hand. “Okay,” he said. “That’s enough. I want to take a look at your hot body.”

I looked down at the t-shirt still covering myself. I was curious, too. I reached down and pulled it up over my head in one smooth move, and then looked down. “I have no boobs,” I said, a little disappointed. I was being hard on myself, there were the faintest little bumps, but they didn’t have much heft to them. For all I knew, that’s what little girl pecks always looked like from their own perspective. The nipples were very light in color and seemed almost oval rather than circles. In the center was a nipple, a little darker than flesh, and, at the moment, standing up from the skin like an oversized goose-bump.

Rick ran a hand over my chest, squeezing. There may not have been much there, but they had some give to them, and when he squeezed, I felt it like never before. “That’s okay,” he said. “They’re just the right size if you ask me.”

He pinched my nipples, both of them at once, and it hurt a little, but overpowering the hurt was a little rush of pleasure, and another pulse of warmth stoked the fire in my loins.

“Yeah, they’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. Hey, why don’t you get up on your hands and knees for me, show off that cute ass.” As he spoke he guided me into the position he wanted, and I don’t know if I could have resisted, but I know that I didn’t, I just wanted him to keep touching me. I felt his palm on my ass, and he gave it a squeeze, then I heard him shifting behind me and felt the mass of him get close. His slightly overweight belly was in contact with my ass, and I could feel something hard and warm sliding up against that realm of pleasure I was beginning to associate with my slit.

There was an instant of panic, and I turned back to look… my fears were confirmed, it looked like he was just about to fuck me. It looked like he was fucking me, to be honest, but I knew that wasn’t quite the case, he wasn’t inside me. “No,” I said, but weakly. I didn’t want it, it was humiliating, but somehow my body wanted it.

“Shhh,” he said again. “It’s okay, you’re so hot, I can’t resist.” He pulled back a little, positioned his hard cock right at the hole, prying the lips apart with his head, and then slammed in. I groaned with the impact, and this time, with pain. It felt like something deep inside me had pinched and then tore away. “It’s okay,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d be a virgin, a girl like you. It won’t hurt for long.”

Most of the pain was already gone, replaced with a dull throb, a little exacerbated by his thrusting, which never really let up… but after about ten thrusts or so, the pain, although still there, became background, and it started to feel really, really good, that feeling of completeness I’d craved, combined with pleasure. Like I felt when I was a man, masturbating to something really hot. My first day as a girl and I’d already lost my virginity and was moaning as someone who was practically a stranger fucked me from behind. “I’m a slut,” I said breathlessly.

“Yeah, you are,” Rick said. “You’re a dirty, dirty slut. Be a hot little slut for me. Come on, push back.”

And I did, discovering not only did it feel good to have something inside me, it felt good to push back, to feel my ass slamming up against an unyielding presence. In addition to the thrusting and penetration, there was a regular slapping that felt good, his balls against the bottom of my pussy.

He slowed for a second, and I found I couldn’t bear it, it was getting so good and I wanted to see how far that could go. “Keep going,” I said. “Faster.” The pain was now a dim memory.

To my relief, he picked up speed again. “You like my cock? You like it slut?”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “I need it.”

I closed my eyes and surrendered to the pleasure, heard a faint jingling and some squeaks, followed by a “Oh, what the fuck…” It wasn’t Rick’s voice.

I opened my eyes and saw Colin there, at the door. Rick had stopped thrusting, and, not caring that we were watched, I rammed my ass back against him.

Continue this or else I'm going to hunt you down and frown at you. Frown at you LIKE THE VISAGE OF A DISAPPROVING DEITY.

And I'll shake my finger disapprovingly.

> he could have been reciting the Gettysburg Address and I would have been just mentally begging him to skip the four score and just give me seven inches.

ahahahahahahaha oh man that's fucking awesome

You keep writing this shit you hear

Not typically a fan of the gender transformation genre, but you good sir just made me one.

Now MOAR!

I love your use of humor in the narration, it gives the story so much more texture.

“Oh, hey,” Rick said, resuming his pace, slower, but still without shame that he was fucking a preteen in front of his roommate. I looked back at him and he seemed a little ashamed, but only a little, like he'd been caught watching a soap opera, but, now that it was all out in the open, he might as well get back to it.

Colin turned his head back and forth, clearly frustrated. Finally, he spoke. At first it was just one word. "Fuck." Actually, it was more like "Fuuuuuuuuuck." Not angry, but like he realized he was in for a lot of trouble. Colin had a deep voice, deeper than you would have guessed by looking at him, when I first met him I thought maybe he was trying to make up for looking a little scrawny and baby-faced by affecting the voice of a much larger man. Actually, Rick probably deserved Colin's voice, and vice versa. For all I know, they touched some magic idol at the same time and swapped voices... it really wasn't any less plausible than what had happened to me that day. “Seriously, man? How old is she, like twelve?”

“Yeah, and I’m telling you, she’s a little slut. Look at her.” I couldn’t see myself, until I spotted the television, where I could see a dim reflection of a girl, her hair wild, her mouth hanging open a little, getting fucked by a guy more than twice her apparent age. That was me, now. I wondered if someone could ever come back from that.

Rick leaned over, reached out, and grabbed me by the chin with one meaty hand and turned my head as far as it would go back towards him. “Hey, baby. You are awesome. What do you say, you wanna help out my buddy here? He hasn’t had any action for months.”

“Uh-huh,” I said in between two breaths. “Okay.” And the thing of it was, I wasn’t just okay with it, I wanted to. The only thing hotter than the thought of one man using my body to vent his sexual lusts was two men doing it... maybe more. I'd always wondered how girls who were in gangbangs felt, since it seemed so degrading, but I didn't feel degraded, I felt powerful, useful, like I'd found my purpose... but mostly just incredibly turned on.

Colin wasn’t as obviously eager as I was, he stood watching as Rick continued to fuck me, for half a minute, but eventually he muttered, “Fuck it,” and stepped forward, fumbling with his belt. The pants came down and the cock came up, and my mouth widened. It was significantly bigger than Rick’s, both in girth but especially length. Maybe they swapped cocks as well as voices. It could happen. I’d have guessed Colin had comfortably eight or nine inches, but my sense of scale was still out of whack from my recent size shift.

Once Colin made his decision and exposed his prick, it approached my mouth with a pace that didn’t give me much time to do anything but open my mouth as wide as it would go. His hands curled in my hair to direct me and I did the only thing I could in that situation, I sucked, tightening my lips around it and using my tongue to try and slather as much of it with saliva as I could. That mostly meant the underside, my mouth was again too full for my tongue to have room to maneuver much.

The sight of me going to town on his friend seemed to inspire Rick to keep up the pace, and that delicious force thrusting inside me increased in speed and ferocity, and his fingertips dug into my tiny ass, squeezing it tightly.

“Oh, Jesus,” Colin gasped, and pulled out just for a second, long enough for me to take a breath and sputter out an inarticulate grunt as Rick pushed in once more. Then the cock returned and I started to become completely overwhelmed by the pleasure. The heat between my legs was starting to boil over, and my pussy seemed to sprout whole new muscles that took over my whole awareness, even though they did nothing but clench and release, clench and release, so rapidly I couldn’t count.

I felt tears well up in my eyes, but not of pain or fear, but just as though water had to leak out of me somewhere.

It was an orgasm, my first as a girl, and let me tell you, there was one big difference. As a man, cumming is phenomenal, but once it’s over, often even while you’re still squirting, the pleasure fades and, not just that, it’s like you go through a sudden personality shift, things you cared intently about only seconds ago are barely interesting. Before a cum, the sight of porn or my naked girlfriend is almost too entrancing to tear myself away from, but immediately after, even going to sleep is more interesting.

This time, though, I had that climax, that moment where my mind and entire body just exploded with pleasure and nothing else in the universe mattered, and then, that pleasure ebbed away… but only to a point. I still wanted more. Unfortunately, I noticed that Rick’s dick left me. He’d cum sometime while I was blissing out. I was now full of cum. I marveled at it, wondered if I could get pregnant.

Rick patted my ass a few times and said, “Man, that was awesome. Colin, you’ve got to try this girl’s cunt, it’s tight as hell.”

“Yeah, I might as well,” Colin said, withdrawing his dick from my lips. A long string of drool followed it out, falling between us like a parabola. “Can’t get much more in trouble, right?”

He took me by the shoulders and pushed me towards one armrest of the couch, forcing me onto my back. My legs spread automatically, and I watched in fascination as his cock approached my pussy. Rick’s felt like it had filled me, and this seemed twice as long. But I was still so hot in there, and wanted something inside me again.

He pushed my legs so far apart that my knees touched opposite sides of the couch, and then lowered himself onto, into me. I thought I was stuffed before, but it was nothing compared to this, his swollen member felt like it was stretching out the membranes of my hole to their limits, and when he thrust all the way inside me, it reached parts of me I didn’t know I had. I couldn’t even feel the whole thing, not directly, but I could feel how full it made me, how complete.

More than that, there was an intensity to it, him on top of me, his weight bearing down on me, making it hard for me to move, and escape was impossible even if I’d wanted to. Colin’s face just inches next to mine, grunting in passion, and somehow that turned me on even more. It was crazy that somebody was reacting that way to me, and crazier still that it made me feel so wanted.

The combination of the intense physical sensations and how fucked up yet frankly hot the whole situation was began to push me into another climax. I moaned in my soft little girl voice as it washed over me, and for a while after floated in contentment. Colin continued to pound, but it was while I was floating that he stiffened up, pushed one last time, and came. This time, I could swear I felt the pulse of his cock inside me as he ejected his seed, four times inside of me... maybe it was more than four, I know when I had a cock there were around twenty jolts of rapidly decreasing power to every orgasm, but after four I couldn't feel him squirting inside of me.

With a grunt, he pushed off the couch and pulled away from me, his dick shrinking rapidly. I didn’t move, just lay there, my arousal at a plateau but not shrinking, like I could have another orgasm if only somebody would fuck me again.

“What did I tell you?” Rick said.

“I need to talk to you,” Colin said urgently, then to me, with a little smile. “I just need to have a few words with my friend here, you’ll be okay, right?”

I nodded and let them go off and rubbed my hand over my pussy. It was a little tender, and although my fingers didn’t quite provoke pain, the pleasure in it was subdued, and pretty soon I stopped. I was no longer outrageously horny. I had the feeling I could have gone longer if I was still getting fucked, but my own fingers didn’t quite thrill me.

After I came down from the high, and got over the novelty of cum leaking out of my pussy, I began to wonder what was going on with the two men who’d just filled it. So I got off the couch and crept towards the bedroom they’d retreated towards.

“Girls her age can’t keep a secret! Especially virgins!” Colin was whispering furiously. “You never should have touched her!”

“It wasn’t just me, man…”

“Yeah, but once I saw what you were doing, I was fucked anyway, unless I turned you in, I was already an accessory. Shit, I can’t go back to jail.”

“Look you saw how much she liked it. I really don’t think she’s going to tell anybody.”

“But you don’t know that!”

There was a long, thoughtful pause. “Nobody even knows she’s here. We can take her out, through the side door, where there are no cameras, get the van there, chances are nobody will see. We can have a little more fun with her, then do her like that runaway in LA.”

My little heart began to beat rapidly, more than it had when I was having sex. I was acutely aware of how vulnerable I was. Not just physically, either. Yes, in my new body, either of those two guys could probably restrain me without much trouble, and the two of them together would make it impossible to get away… but what’s more, if they did want to do something, who would be looking for me? A few days from now people might look for Michael, but who else even knew Michaela existed?

While the thought of being kept prisoner and becoming a sex slave for these two guys appealed to some dark part of my brain that I can only hope were part of the changes that included a girl’s body and an attraction to men, the thought of them murdering me to keep me from talking held no attraction whatsoever. I knew I had to get away again, and do it fast.

I found my t-shirt, put it on, then took a quick look for anything else I could wear. There was nothing in immediate view. What I wouldn’t give to duck into one of their rooms and steal some boxers, or even something as simple as a pair of socks, but I couldn’t risk it.

I made it to the door before I heard a, “Hey,” from behind me. I got one look at Colin staring, wide-eyed, then pulled the door open just enough to escape through it.

I ran down the hall as fast as my tiny feet could carry me, hoping they wouldn’t choose follow me out where they might be observed and I might make a fuss, but not willing to risk even a look back if it would slow me down. I didn’t even know where I was running, once again I was just running away. I felt a little more comfortable when I reached the stairwell, and more still when I ran up the stairs, back towards, though not on, my old floor. I stayed very still, ready to bolt if I heard the door opened, but after a few minutes of breathless waiting, it didn’t seem like they were following, and I relaxed and once again tried to think about what to do.

I realized I was back where I was a half hour ago, only with no urge to pee, two loads of cum in my pussy, and feet that were getting colder the longer I stayed in the stairwell. And now zero clue of where to go next.

I went up to my floor and stepped out into the hallway. I was on the stairwell farthest from my door, and I kept very quiet, then realized I could hear voices. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they were male. I couldn’t remember if I’d told Rick I lived on the fifth floor and wondered if they decided to beat me ‘home’, or if it was the cops, or maybe just a neighbor having a conversation with an open door.

I had some quick decisions to make, though. If it was the police, I could go with them. I could try to go to another neighbor, but now I realized that would almost certainly lead to the police or another molestation. My shirt had cumspots down at the bottom and I probably smelled like sex. Maybe I could convince them of the truth about what had happened to me.

Neither choice was attractive, but my only other choice was to try and make it out of the building. To do that, I’d need clothes. Maybe I could find a neighbor with kids, borrow some clothes, then sneak out the fire escape? That seemed to be a decent plan, except I didn’t know who had kids and who didn’t in my building. If I knocked on doors, with my luck today, I’d run into another secret childkiller like Colin. Who would have guessed? Well, he was reading a Stephen King novel when I met him in the laundry room… maybe it wasn’t so much that he was in to supernatural horror, but because murder turned him on.

An idea struck then, as I remembered again where we met. The laundry room. Maybe somebody was doing a load and had left it unattended... hell, sometimes there were even piles of clothes on the ‘free to take’ table. It was a longshot, but better than any idea I’d had so far.

I met Maria in the hallway leading there, in sight of the laundry room door. A kid, like me, although not exactly, even in that first look I could tell she outclassed me. I was cute, she was beautiful, like a girl who was destined to grow up to be a model. Her face already had that look, features a little sharper, more angular, with higher cheekbones, and green eyes slightly more almond-shaped than my own. It was like her face was built to be a little distant, even regal. She was a brunette, the hair almost but not quite black, and done up in a braid. I would have guessed she was about twelve, mostly based on the size and lack of a defined figure... she was petite like me, although a little taller, and certainly better dressed. She wore a school uniform, white top, dark skirt, and white leggings, and had a pink backpack slung over one shoulder.

The girl could have been a kid who lived in the building, except for those eyes, they were wary, searching, alert, and they fixed right on me, appraising me in an instant. “May have the new Anne,” she said, and I stared at her, confused, because it looked like she was talking to me but I had no idea what she meant.

She skipped forward, taking me by the hand, and said, “Come on, we have to get out of here.” She pulled me back towards the stairwell door.

“I need to go to the laundry room,” I protested weakly. It was my only plan and she was taking me away from it… then again, if she lived in the building, maybe it would be good to play along.

“Nothing in there except a pair of holey socks,” she said. As my feet once again made contact with the concrete floor, I thought that I’d take what I could get, but then she raised my hopes with, “I’ve got you covered, don’t worry. What’s your name?”

“Michaela,” I said with a little bit of a stutter.

She nodded. “But last night you were Michael, right?” I stared at her, hard to believe it was true. Part of me had started to wonder if I ever was Michael… maybe I was just a crazy little girl, maybe with Multiple Personality Disorder. “I did the same thing,” she continued. “My first time, I just went with the first name that I could think of. Maria, born to be Mario.”

By the time I was able to get my mouth working, we were already halfway up the first staircase. “It happened to you, too?” I asked. How many other people had it happened to? And how did she know to find me?

“Yeah. There’ll be time for explanations later. Right now, I’m not even sure if you’re really who I’m after. This is your first time, though, right? You’ve never transformed like this before?”

If that was even a question, that had to mean this was reversible. I’d all but given up hope. “Yeah.”

“Too bad, this would be easier if you were just in hiding. Okay, I’m going to tell you two things to set your mind at ease. One, you will be back to being Michael. Two, you’re very lucky. You were found by the good guys.” We passed by a door to the second floor. "Now come on, the faster we get to the roof, the better."

The roof? What, were we catching a helicopter or something? Still, after a difficult morning of not having any idea where to go next, I was ready to follow somebody who knew where we were going and, although I was lining up my questions, I didn't ask any of them, hoping she'd just start explaining on her own, and by the time I realized she wasn't going to, I was getting a little out of breath from climbing so many stories at the pace Maria was setting. By the time we reached the top of the stairs, I put my hands on my knees and had to suck in breath.

Maria didn't seem bothered. She shrugged off her backpack, unzipped it, and pulled out a neatly folded bundle of clothes and dropped them on the floor. “I had to guess at your size. Get dressed.” While I picked up the shirt, she tried the door and then nodded as she found it locked, as though it was expected. She retrieved something from a side pocket of her backpack and began methodically picking the lock, like an expert.

I dressed quickly, relieved to finally have socks, even if they were pink, and then after that, to have underwear, and a t-shirt that was sized almost right for me and had “Future Celebrity” on it. I practically squealed when I realized that underneath the jeans there were shoes. Maria had guessed well, erring just a little on the side of ‘too big’. Everything fit, if not perfectly, than at least without any danger of falling off of me.

By the time I was done, Maria had the door open, and we were out on the roof. I squinted against the sun and heard her say, “We’re on the roof. I might have been handed a decoy, so ideally I’m still going to need a secondary team to secure and keep searching the building.”

“Who are you talking to?” I asked.

“My people,” she said simply. She went back to her backpack, and this time pulled out what looked like some kind of little makeup kit. When she pressed a button and it opened, however, I could see that it was actually a pair of mini-binoculars. She leaned over the edge of the rooftop and scanned the street below. “There’s a team inside already, and I think I just saw one of their watchers by the entrance.” Suddenly, she drew back. “Fuck, I think he spotted me.” She looked at me. “Okay, we need a new plan. They’re going to have the main exits guarded, that’s basic. We could drop down to a fire escape, but chances are their man outside will be watching for that. It’s just you and I, and they’ve got adults. And if they did see me, in a few minutes, their advance team will be here.” She raised one leg on the ledge, and pulled up her skirt. It turned out that what I initially thought were leggings were actually long stockings, which ended just above where the line of her skirt would normally be. Strapped to her milky-white upper thigh was an incongruous holster with an even more-out-of-place gun. She retrieved it and flipped the safety. “And if that happens, then I’ll need this, and I don’t want to need this. So, any ideas?”

“Who? Who’s coming?”

“The bad guys. They want you in their power. I’m here to try to stop that. So, what do you think? Any way we can get out of here?”

“I don’t know!” I shouted, feeling on the verge of tears. This was all too much for me.

“Okay, calm down, I think I see a way.” She pointed. “That building’s pretty close. If we can cross over without them seeing us, we’re safe. Even if they do see us, it buys us time, they won’t be able to cover the exits as easily.

“And how are we going to cross over? A zipline?”

“No… the gap between the fire-escapes… it’s not much, we can probably jump it.”

I walked to the edge and looked over. A queasy feeling overcame me. I’d never been afraid of heights before, but they suddenly seemed a lot bigger, and the gap between fire escapes didn’t seem jumpable. Worse, to even get down to the fire escape, you’d have to crawl over the edge and jump down a scary distance. “I don’t know about this…” I said. Whoever these people after us were, they couldn’t be that bad, could they? "I thought you said they'd be watching the fire escapes..."

"They probably will be, but if they've got enough people to watch all of them at once, we're fucked anyway... they've probably just got one guy circling the building as a lookout. With a little luck, we can cross over while he's on the other side." She pursed her lips as though doubting her own plan, but then insisted, "It’ll be fine. It’s our only hope anyway, we can’t risk going down the main staircase now, they’ll be here any second.”

“But the drop…”

“It’ll be okay. I’ll hold onto your arms. Just climb up and hang over.”

My heart was pounding like mad, but I did as I was told. I climbed onto the edge, made sure the fire escape was beneath me, then turned around, on my belly, and let my legs dangle over. Maria held on to me as more and more of me slipped over. Soon, she too was on the ledge, and the only thing supporting my weight. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to let you go. It’s only a little drop.”

It seemed like a lot to me, but I didn’t have much choice or time to protest. Suddenly, I was falling. I landed on my ass and bumped my head a little on the metal railing.

When I looked up, I saw Maria’s legs dangling over the edge. Her skirt was caught between her belly and the ledge, and her uppermost thighs and tight white panties were exposed to the air. “Do you want some help?” I offered hesitantly.

“No, just get out of the way so I don’t land on you.” I complied, and second later, she was down. She still had the gun in her hand, and waved it as a pointer. “Okay, now we just need to get over there.”

The gap didn’t seem completely insurmountable, but if I was wrong, the fall was incredible. My legs shook when I considered risking it. “There’s no way I can jump that,” I said.

“Sure you can. What, were you fat, before? Because you’re a lot lighter now.”

“No,” I said, the words coming from some deep part of me. I’d never thought I’d had a fear of heights. “No, no, no…”

Maria looked at me appraisingly, then around. She picked up a small rock about the size of her hand. “Okay, I’ll tell ya what. You start going down, one by one. If you can find an open window on our side before we get spotted we’ll take our chances doubling back inside. If not, we jump, no matter what.” I stared at her for a second, and she said, “Believe me, you don’t want these people getting a hold of you. You’ll never get your life back. So get moving.”

That threat, that I’d never get my life back, inspired me. I moved to the two windows on the landing I was on, tried them, found them both locked. That’s New York for you. I descended, checked again, and again no luck. Maria didn’t try any of the windows, or even come down with me, she held her gun ready and watched all over from the top. Up, the street, and all other directions, regularly switching, like guarding against threats was something that was second nature to her.

Four floors down, I finally found a window that was propped open with a pencil, of all things. I lifted it, but and at first I thought I’d never get it open, but I put almost all my effort into it and finally there was enough room to get in. “Here,” I said.

“Okay, get in.” But I didn’t, not right away. As I watched from below, tucked the gun into her skirt, then Maria lifted the stone and threw it overhand like a baseball. It went through the window on the other side with a crash, and she started sprinting down the stairs to where I found an entrance. Once she reached me, she shoved me inside and followed.

“What did you do that for?” I asked.

“So they’ll think we went in there. I didn’t see anybody with eyes on us, so we might be okay.” She closed the window and the blinds, and only then thought to check if there was anybody here. Nobody was in the living room area we were in, but that wasn’t good enough. Maria’s gun came out of her skirt and back into her hand, and, keeping her back along hallway, she kicked open the bathroom door and held a gun to it. It was empty. Next she moved on to the bedroom, which had its door open, so she paused by the doorframe, then spun quickly to get the drop on anybody inside. After a similar check of one more room, she said, “Okay. Now all we have to worry about is if somebody outside saw us.”

Her head darted around in all directions again, then she sat in the hallway, legs pulled up to her chest, and put a finger to her ear. “What’s your ETA?” In the silence of the apartment, I could hear the response as a faint buzzing. If nothing else, it proved she wasn’t just crazy. “Okay, we’ll try to meet you in the underground parking.” Finally, she looked at me exhausted, and motioned me to sit. “Stay here, though. We can’t be seen from the window, and we’ll know if anybody tries to get in.”

“So, can you tell me what’s going on, finally?” I asked.

“I can try. The short answer is, it’s magic. You and I, along with a whole bunch of other people have been..." she hesitated, but finally shrugged with a self-conscious grin and said the word she thought might not quite say everything. "...cursed. This body you’re in now? You’re going to turn into it for about three days every month.”

Finally, a light at the end of the tunnel, although with the promise of many more tunnels ahead. “And after that?”

“You go back to what you looked like before.”

“And what did I do to deserve this… curse?”

“Nothing. Deserve doesn’t mean shit. As near as we can figure out, curses are a bit like landmines. Someone uses them for what they feel’s a perfectly good reason, and decades later they can still explode and hurt somebody. This particular curse is transmissible. I got it because somebody wanted to infect me with it.” She took a deep breath and spread her legs. “Fuck, adrenaline always gets me hot. How horny are you right now?”

“What? I’m not.” Not very. My eyes were drawn to her crotch, just visible beneath her skirt, and where I could see a wet spot on her panties. Once I saw that, I couldn’t look away.

“Really? First time, you should be practically dripping, unless…” She eyed me speculatively. “You had sex already, didn’t you?”

I could feel the blush creeping into my face. “I couldn’t help it!” Then I panicked. “Does this mean… that I can’t change back? If you have sex as a girl, you’re not stuck as one forever, are you?”

She laughed. “No. Actually, it’s better that you have sex in your first three days. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon." I was surprised she couldn't smell it. "What happened?”

“I, um, went to a neighbor’s to try to figure out what to do.”

Maria frowned. “And he took advantage of you?”

“Sort of. There were two of them. And…” I couldn’t finish.

“And you wanted them to. I know. It’s part of the curse, while you’re a girl you’ll get really horny from time to time. You can resist it, but the first few times it can be overwhelming. The worst part is, you can’t even masturbate.” I looked up at her, and she clarified. “Well, you can, but it doesn’t satisfy the urge, it just makes it worse.”

“What kind of a curse is this?”

“We think it was originally cast on a pedophile. You know, poetic justice, turn them into the same type of sex toy they wanted. If that was the case, it backfired horribly, a lot of the Annes love their situation, and sickos are much more dangerous around children when they become one. Even some of the responsible of us can slip, the urges get so strong… that’s why we try to help each other out.” She took a breath. “And speaking of which… do you mind?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I already knew what she meant, I just could hardly believe it.

She pulled the crotch of her panties to one side and flashed her pussy… tight and wet with a little pink tent at the top. “Just sit here beside me and rub my cunt,” she said, patting towards the floor on the side that lead into the hallway. She still held a gun in that hand, which seemed like an implied threat even when it wasn’t pointed at me, but when I hesitated, she said, “If you don’t want to, that’s okay, but I’m a much better shot if I’m not all keyed up.”

I scooted up beside her, and she pulled her skirt up to give me access. I was very tentative about it at first, but my hand gradually extended and found its way towards her belly and landed on the smooth skin. She took a sharp breath when we made contact, even though I wasn’t touching her genitals yet.

Once that happened, I didn’t think I could turn back, so my hand slid downward and under her panties. It wasn’t just warm, it was hot, and wet, and I experimentally kneaded the flesh. Maria bit her lip and turned away from me, as though she was looking out the window, even though she couldn’t actually see the window from there. Maybe she was watching for shadows on the light through the window.

I continued massaging the flesh of her pussy, and found my fingers continually stroking up and down her slit. Two of them dipped inside and got even wetter than the rest of my hand. I noticed Maria’s gun-hand, although still clutching the grip, now no longer held the trigger, as though she was afraid she might accidentally let it go off. She began to inhale and exhale visibly, her chest rising with the deep but silent breaths she was taking. Soon I found I was breathing in and out in harmony with her, and my pussy seemed to twitch with excitement as I fingered hers. Then I thought, “Why not do both?” My own pants were just loose enough that I could slip a hand in without even undoing a button, so I worked my way into my own panties and rubbed myself. Tingles of pleasure ran up my body and I could feel myself start to lube up again.

It felt good and I picked up the pace, on both of us, rubbing more frenetically. Maria’s legs started to quiver and she let out a muffled cry… I realized she was still biting her lip, but this time to keep the sound in. She relented long enough to whisper, “Keep going…”

I kept going, fingering both of us, like I was playing the piano except instead of keys, I was playing it on two preteen pussies, and one of them was my own.

It only took a couple minutes before I triggered Maria’s orgasm, I felt it... her pussy seemed to clench down on my finger, but it was also visible in the way her legs trembled like she was having a seizure, and I heard a soft but continuous whimpering as she rode out the sensation, which lasted about a minute. Afterwards, she took a deep breath, and said, “Thanks.” Her face was deeply flushed, but she shook her head as though to clear it and although the redness faded slowly, the look of utter peace vanished in an instant and she took on a guarded look. Her finger slid back to her gun’s trigger. “You can stop fingering me now,” she said.

I reluctantly pulled my hand away, letting her panties snap back into place, but I was too turned on to just stop my own self-pleasure. Now that I had both hands to myself, I unbuttoned my jeans to give myself more access.

That action was noticed. Maria looked over to me and sighed a little. “I told you, you can’t get yourself off. Here, I’ll help.” Her hand joined mine down my pants, and then gradually pushed mine out the way. I didn’t mind at all, it felt so much better… like a little electric connection that was missing when it was my own efforts. It was more than that, too… Maria must have had a lot more experience rubbing pussies, because there was no hesitation, no fumbling, she just stroked steadily as my pleasure increased. Thirty seconds in when I was good and practically drooling from the cunt, she suddenly went for my clit, rubbing it with two fingers as my legs involuntarily braced myself against the other side of the hallway.

I was close, so close, another few seconds and I’d be over the edge… and then it went away. Her hand left and went to her ear. “What?” she said. “All right.”

My hand tried to finish the job, I did my best to imitate the way she rubbed my clit, but all it did was keep me at that level of pleasure, I couldn’t move past it into the heaven I wanted… and when you’re at the gates of heaven, just not being allowed to go inside can be a hell of its own. I prayed for her to finish her phone call and get back to finish me.

Instead, she stood up. “We’ll be right down,” she said, and then her hand dropped from her ear but instead of returning to me, she used it as leverage to rise. Once she was on her feet, she reached out to offer me help, but not the kind of help I wanted.

“But…” I said, unable to articulate it, or maybe it was just hard to admit that I needed to cum.

“We’ll finish later. My people are in the underground parking, and the longer we wait, the more dangerous it is, come on.”

Reluctantly, I took her hand and she pulled me to my feet, and then we made for the front door while I rebuttoned my pants.

We crept cautiously down the hallway, Maria in the lead with the gun ready, me following behind, my mind more on the yearning ache between my legs, but we moved quickly and silently, at least until we approached a stairwell door and Maria asked, “Does that lead down to underground parking?”

It took me a second to answer. One of the two stairwells did, but the other didn’t, and I had to do some thinking to recall which side of the building we were on. “Yes,” I said finally, only being about 80% sure.

“We’re coming down the stairwell,” she said to the voice in her ear. “Be ready to pick us up.” We went through the door and ran down the stairs. A much heavier door awaited us at the bottom, but Maria hefted it open and pulled me through into the garage.

I didn’t have a car, so I’d only been down there a handful of times, and I didn’t even know where we were supposed to be going, but Maria pressed forward regardless, as though we were being chased. I was starting to wonder again if maybe she was just insane or, more likely, lying. She had a voice in her ear, that was certain, but I’d never seen any of the ‘other side’ she spoke about. The specter of them being after us gave her an excuse to drive me around to her agenda.

That doubt didn’t last long, though. I heard a soft, feminine, “Hey!”, coming from the direction of the elevator. It was another girl, about our age, maybe even a little younger. She could have been ten, but that could have been the blonde pigtails that made her look young. She wore a yellow sundress, and had a small gun in one hand.

Maria whipped her head around at the voice, and then back to me. “Get down,” she yelled, and pushed me in between two cars. Pigtails raised her gun, and fired. I heard a quiet whuff and dull thump, both at approximately the same time, followed by a plink of metal, not at all what I expected a gunshot to be.

Maria’s return fire, that sounded like a gun, or something like a firework going off. It missed its target too, but it was fired while Maria was falling to asphalt herself. “Stay there,” she said to me, then rolled on her side and tried to find the girl with pigtails. I could see pink running shoes behind a car, but was speechless and didn’t say anything.

“Just let the new one go with us,” a high-pitched, amazingly cheerful voice said. “You can go on your way, promise.”

“Sorry,” Maria said, focusing on the sound. She too saw the feet now, and seemed to be weighing whether to try shooting under the car. “I know what you’ll do.” She rolled, getting her outfit all dirty, but putting some distance between where she spoke and landing on her stomach, where she could easily push herself onto her feet.

I didn’t see anything from my position, not even feet, but she must have, for she fired two rounds. One smashed glass, a windshield, probably. I could hear a car in the distance, its wheels squealing. It was getting closer.

Another of the quiet ‘whuff/thump’ shots rang out, and Maria ducked. That was when the car finally came into view, it was a black SUV, tinted windows. Maria rushed backwards to my side, helped me to my feet. “That’s our ride.”

The car skidded to a stop, and the side door opened. Maria pushed me towards it. I hopped in, and turned back… that’s when I saw the other girl, coming up from behind a car. It wasn’t the one with pigtails, this one had neck-length black hair and wore shorts and a t-shirt. She also held a gun in her hand. I found my voice, barely in time, “Watch out…”

Maria spun to see the threat just as the girl fired. The bullet whizzed by me and sank into the seat. Maria fired back, and this one hit. The girl’s shoulder exploded into red, and she dropped the gun. For a second I though Maria had blown the arm straight off, but that was just panic combined with the odd jerking motion she made when she was hit. It was the first person I’d ever seen shot, and it looked like it had just happened to an adolescent girl.

When Maria turned to me, I realized that it was the technically second person I’d seen shot, if grazed counted as shot. A long shallow but wide gash was cut in her face, just under her eye, marring those perfect, model-like features. She crawled into the car, covered her face with one hand, and shouted, “Drive.”

We lurched forward, then back, and the car made a quick turn before accelerating again. “Oh my god,” I whispered, but it was a zombie-like repetition, like it was something I knew I should be saying. .

“Fuck Christ that hurts. You got a first aid kit?” she asked the driver, who I looked at for the first time, without much interest. He was a somewhat pudgy man wearing sunglasses and a hat. I didn’t think he had hair under the hat. He reached between the two front seats and pulled out a little case, then tossed it back towards us.

The SUV lurched to one side as we took a sharp turn, and my shoulder slammed into the other side, but I barely paid it any notice and even when we broke into the sunlight, it made no impact on me. It was like it was happening to somebody else. Everything was just too surreal to be happening to me, the real me. I was just in a little girl gunfight, saw somebody die, and was now in what seemed like a car chase, even though I wasn’t sure we were actually being followed, while another girl, who was really a man named Mario, bandaged herself. There were many times during this day that I thought maybe I was dreaming, but this was the first time I literally felt it, that dreamlike disconnection, that bland acceptance that anything might happen next, and I'd be okay with it, because it wasn't really me, and I'd be waking up any minute. Maybe a dinosaur was chasing us. I could see it as plausible. Maybe it would have missiles.

“Hey, Michaela… hey, look at me,” she said. She slapped my face very lightly, just enough to get my attention, and stared me down. It was silly, but for a moment I just lost myself in her eyes, and then my gaze was drawn to the bandage just below, and what went through my mind was ‘she was so pretty, and she’s going to have that scar forever.’ She didn’t seem to care. “You okay? You still with us? You look a little freaked.”

It was then that I remembered why I was freaked, the last straw that made me all disassociative. “That girl… you killed her.”

“Dana? Nah, I doubt it. Shoulder shot looked clean, she’ll probably be okay. Probably should have, though, the bitch was certainly trying to kill me. Should have known the other girl was just a distraction so Dana could sneak behind us.” Maria smiled a little. “Hey, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have turned around in time. That means you saved my life.”

“Not saved yet,” said our driver. “We’ve got a tail.”

“Well, lose them,” Maria snapped. “They won’t try anything in broad daylight but they can’t follow us to the meet, they'll have reinforcements by then.” She looked back at me, and then bit her lip coquettishly. “Hey, if you saved my life, you should get a reward, right? You never did get off back in the apartment…” With that, her delicate fingers went to the button of my jeans, undid them, and started tugging down.

That hotness between my legs had never gone away, I’d just pushed it to the back of my mind during the firefight, and now I could think of nothing else. So, when she pulled my jeans down, I lifted my ass so she could get them to the knees. When she did the same with my panties, I helped her pull them down.

I scooted to the edge of the seat and leaned back, so only the back of my head was in contact with the back. “Now that’s a cute pussy,” Maria said. “I like how it’s all puffed up.”

“Fuck, don’t tell me that,” I heard from up front. “Trying to keep my eyes on the road here.”

“Just telling it like it is.” She cupped it with her hand, making my ass instinctively clench to rise and meet her. She squeezed it gently, and then spread her fingers so spread open my hole slightly. Maria leaned in, getting her head oh so close while I looked down. First she breathed on it… you know, like people sometimes breathe when they’re polishing a shoe or drying their nails? It was like that, except it didn’t feel like breath, it felt like a storm of tiny needles that didn’t hurt, but made me very aware of every point they hit.

If that little prelude was good, the rest was better. Her tongue made contact and began sliding up my wet crack. I’d already learned today that an orgasm as a girl was far better than as a man, and now I was learning that oral was as well. Visually the was no comparison… looking down at a girl sucking your cock was great, but watching her lick your own pussy was like two great visuals for the price of one. Where it really blew away the competition was in sensation… it was almost like I had multiple cocks, one for each lip, another on the clit, they were connected but they felt like different parts, able to be stimulated alone or in concert. Maria’s tongue slipped inside, less penetrative than the cocks I’d already had, but more dynamic, more exciting, with the ability to curve and hit nooks and crannies that had previously never known pleasure.

The vehicle we were in took a sharp turn and her tongue jammed up against the left wall of my cunt and she looked up angrily. “Little warning?”

“Sorry, you did say to lose them. If you want, you can drive and I’ll get the new Lolly Anne off.”

Lolly Anne? I wondered at the phrase. Maria had called me an Anne before, but I didn’t think much about it. Then again, I couldn’t think about it now, she returned to tonguing my slit and all other thoughts fled my mind. It wasn’t a long lick, not this time, she pulled away and inserted two fingers, sawing them in and out like a small penis. It wasn’t quite the same, but it still felt great, and when she added to it by kissing around my clit, it was like I was having trouble breathing. I panted heavily, feeling like my body was going to start shaking at any moment. Then, when I looked at my knee, I realized it already was.

It suddenly went dark and I thought maybe I’d gone blind, but no, we’d just passed through a short tunnel or an underpass or something. Immediately after it brightened, we turned again and I almost slipped off the chair, but one of my hands was gripping the nearest door-handle with a death-grip, and that was enough to keep me balanced, although I still felt like I was teetering on the edge. Maria’s lips finally closed over my clit directly, and I cried out, and had yet another mind-blowing orgasm. My toes curled up inside my shoes.

When I came down from the onrush of pleasure, Maria pulled back and sat beside me. One hand went to my chin, and she turned my head to look her in the eye again, although it took a few more seconds to be able to focus. “There. You okay now?” I nodded mutely. “Good. Simon, they still on our ass?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I think I might have lost them when I ran that red light.” We ran a red light? I hadn’t even noticed, although there did seem to be an awful lot of honking at one point while I was being finger-banged, to the point that I wondered for a second if the drivers saw us.

“Okay. Let’s pull into that parking garage,” Maria suggested. Simon took us in, and we stopped on the top floor. It didn’t seem like anybody followed us in, at least that’s what they said. I wasn’t qualified to judge, and was still in something of a shell-shocked state. Maria got out to consult with the voices in her earpiece.

This is really good! Interesting story, and well written. I love it! Please, good sir, continue.

I stayed in the car with Simon, watching through the window. He undid his belt and turned back to me a minute after Maria left. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “Hey, there’s a DVD player in this thing, I can put on some cartoons or something?” I looked up at him blankly, and he grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. I know you’re not really a kid, but it’s hard not to trust my eyes. And hell, I like cartoons.”

I did too, but I had more pressing concerns. “Are you one too?” I asked suddenly. “Like me and Maria?”

“A Lolly Anne? Yeah. It’s still new to me, though. I’m about six months in, my cycles are predictable, and yet whenever I find I’ve turned into a little brown girl, I still think I’m dreaming.”

I frowned. “Brown?”

“Yeah, you got a problem with that? A fat white guy’s not allowed to turn into a little brown girl? You racist or something?”

“No,” I said, trying to placate. “I don’t have a problem, it just seems strange.” He shrugged, and looked away. “Did you have to go through all this, too? People chasing you?”

“No,” he said boredly. “But I was recruited. You… you’re special. The faction that claims you might get a leg up.”

“Why?”

But I didn’t get an answer, not right then. Maria opened the door and slid in beside me, dominating the conversation much like she’d pretty much took the lead in everything since I ran into her. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Simon, you head out. If they are still tailing us, they’ll probably think we’re still in the back of your van. Drop off the van where you got it. Michaela and I will leave by foot, grab a cab, take us to a meeting with Adam."

The last I saw of Simon that day was him grumbling about having to pay parking charges out-of-pocket. “I better get reimbursed…”

“Just save your receipt,” Maria called while he pulled out. I waved weakly, and then Maria grabbed my hand. “Come on, the longer we linger, the more exposed we are.” She took me into the stairwell, stopping a moment to put her gun back in its little thigh-holster.

Luckily, if anybody was following us, they seemed to fall for Simon’s decoy, because we didn’t see any sign of anybody. Maria would have been better at spotting it than I would, and she seemed satisfied, although she looked constantly on edge.

Getting a cab was easier than I thought it would be for two preteen girls. We found a cab waiting outside of a coffee shop, and although the driver initially hesitated at taking us all the way to Chinatown on Maria’s suggestion, when she flashed enough cash to do the job, he started the meter, and tried to make nice. “So you girls go to school? What grade?” He looked Middle Eastern, but spoke clearly with only a slight accent.

“Sixth,” Maria said. "It's a half-day today though."

“Ah. I have a son in second grade. What’s your favorite…” He stopped, and in the rear-view mirror, we could see him wave a finger to cheek, just below his eye. “What happened? Hurt yourself?”

“Yeah, we were playing field hockey, and I took a stick right in the face.” Maria lied smoothly, and elaborately, coming up with a whole scenario that lead up to her receiving that wound during middle school sports instead of a gunfight, but I didn’t really appreciate the artistry in her deception. I was trying again to enumerate all the questions I had once we got to wherever we were going, since I couldn’t ask them now.

It was a long drive, with lots of traffic, and when the driver’s attentions turned to me and asked why I was so quiet, I mumbled a few answers until Maria covered for me, explaining that I was really shy, and resumed control of the conversation. As she talked, she kept looking out the window behind her, checking for tails, I guess, but did it subtly, pretending to be looking at the neighborhood, or seeing a dog they just passed, and worked it into the conversation. I listened for a while, but was a little alarmed to find, by the end of the ride, that I was paying attention less and less and thinking more and more about what the driver’s cock would look like. I really couldn’t remember whether Muslims circumcised themselves. That hot feeling began to grow with the thought, and I wondered at whether, if he suggested we pulled over and had a threesome, would we be able to resist, or was the compulsion that strong?

Luckily, I never had to answer that question. He let us off at a corner, Maria paid him and got a receipt, and we were on a street full of Asian people. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“One of Adam’s holdings,” Maria said, and pointed just up at the corner. “See that building?” It had a bunch of Chinese letters on it, and a bunch of different storefronts, including a restaurant, a china shop, and what looked like a number of apartments above it. “That’s where we’re going.”

“Is Adam Chinese?” I asked.

“No.”

“Does he turn into a little Chinese girl?”

Maria rolled her eyes. “No. He’s just a white guy. Not everybody who owns a business in Chinatown’s Asian, you know.” Embarrassed, I shut up, and when we reached the building, we didn’t go in the front, but walked down a side street and then up a set of stairs to a building which had a small sign on it, “A.W. Talent Agency, by appointment only.”

Inside, it didn’t look much like a talent agency. There was a hallway, a potted plant, and four doors. One said “A.W. Talent Agency” again. Two others appeared to be washrooms. The last was marked “Employees only.” Maria pressed the intercom buzzer by the talent agency door, and there was an answering buzz, but she didn’t open that door. Instead, she strolled over to the employees-only door, and opened it. I followed her down a set of stairs into what I guessed was below the ground floor. There, was another door.

Inside was what looked like a large office, with a number of cubicles and a large lounge area with several couches. Six men, and two young girls were seated at the lounge, around a table with a plate of sandwiches cut up into little triangles. Most of the people stood up when we approached. One of the men caught my eyes right away. He was in his late twenties, blonde hair, he looked startlingly familiar, but I couldn’t place exactly where I knew him from.

“Gentlemen,” Maria said, “May I present Michaela, our new Lolly Anne.”

“If that is her,” one of the men said doubtfully. “You said you were worried it might be a decoy.”

“If it is, she’s new,” another declared. “Or well hidden.”

“I’m convinced she’s a newbie. I just feel it in my gut,” Maria said. "Besides, they wouldn't have opened fire in public just to sell a decoy."

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. “Would someone please explain what’s going on? Why did you bring me here? Why are people after me? How did I become this… Lolly Anne thing. What does that even mean?”

The man who was so eerily familiar to me chuckled, and I realized I’d heard that chuckle before too. “I suppose I can answer the last question first. It’s an old joke, about the curse, the curse that all of us share. Werewolves used to be called ‘Lycanthropes’, from the greek ‘lykos’, meaning wolf, and ‘anthropos’, meaning man. Except, unlike lycanthropes, we turn not into wolves, but into oversexualized little girls, little lolitas. Somebody chose the name ‘Lolianthropes’ to describe us, and, as etymologically dubious as that term may be, it stuck, and became shortened…”

“Lolly Annes,” Maria supplied, but my attention was still on the last speaker, the man who spoke much like a librarian. He reminded me a little of a young Giles from the old TV series Buffy, and then I suddenly remembered the last person who reminded me of that, the last person who had that distinctive chuckle.

I realized it was the man I was looking at. He should have been in his late thirties by now, that’s probably what threw me, not to mention that I only met him a half dozen times, but now that the memory came back, it came back in force. “You. I remember you. You’re Jennifer’s father!” Jennifer, the girl who took my virginity. Perhaps not my first love, but the one that hurt the most, the girl I thought I might have been meant to be with, until she moved away and I never heard from her again.

“Well, that settles it,” he said sadly. “You’re definitely the one we were after. Hello again, Michael. It’s been a long time. Welcome to the Alliance. Come, sit. I’m sure you have many more questions.”

End of Installment One

Anyway, that's it for the first one. Since this is a serial, lots of them will end on cliffhangers, which I know is unusual for me. It's also a bit of a departure for me in fetishes, but I've been wanting to play with this for a while.

I'm about 75% done installment 2, and there's a chance that I'll complete it by the time I finish posting everything else on this list.

Up next on the posting schedule, although probably sometime after the Easter weekend, will be "Rape Beach", a Phil Phantom tribute story (as is the case in all my stories, rapes are only technical, everybody winds up liking everything). Following that will be issue 2 of Relatively Powered, and then another Phil Phantom.

And most of you already know, but in case there are people new to my work: all of my completed stories can be found at http://www.asstr.org/~AnonyMPC/

You are, as always, amazing.

For the love of a Buddha fucking Haru Krishna MMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!1

Your writing is superb, as always. Not really into this fetish, but I found myself getting some pretty rock hard boners at a couple different times throughout.

>But I was recruited. You… you’re special. The faction that claims you might get a leg up.”
The whole "chosen one" thing is pretty played out and cliche, but this is a serial so I assume it's meant to be more than a little cheesy. Still, things like that tend to make me cringe.

All in all, well done. It's nice to see you writing something that doesn't involve incest. You're such a great writer, crafting fantastic sex scenes and generally believable characters (except in your Phil Phantom tributes where the characters are deliberately cartoonish), but I'm not into incest so the overarching theme of brother-sister incest pervading your stories is always a little disappointing to me (don't take that as a criticism, it's just my personal preference). So it's nice to see you writing something without any incest in it, which I hope you do more of in the future.

>>But I was recruited. You… you’re special. The faction that claims you might get a leg up.”
>The whole "chosen one" thing is pretty played out and cliche, but this is a serial so I assume it's meant to be more than a little cheesy. Still, things like that tend to make me cringe.

Fair enough, but I don't think it spoils too much to say that I don't intend the character to be a 'chosen one' type. There's something special, but it's more along the lines of 'pearl in the oyster' special: more valuable than the average, but not unprecedented... it may still be cheesy, just a different variety of cheese.

As to incest, hey, it's my primary fetish, so it probably will turn up in the series... but in this case it's not going to be a major factor.

>>15770
>it's my primary fetish, so it probably will turn up in the series... but in this case it's not going to be a major factor.
Ha, fair enough. Can't say I'm surprised :) Still, it's nice to see you writing some non-incestuous sex scenes! Some incest is fine, I just never dug the fact that virtually everything you've written so far is centered on incest. Having some non-incestuous sex peppered throughout is good enough for me!

Also, I just want you to know that despite the fact that I'm not into incest, your sex scenes still consistently cause me to tent my pants.

Also, after checking your ASSTR page, I cannot wait for "A Game of Sluts." Haha, wtf!

>>15773
Haven't had much traction on A Game of Sluts unfortunately... love the concept, but just haven't gotten far in the writing. It's a big project, though, one story for each of the "sluts" involved in the game, and a framing story which sets it up. And no, it has nothing to do with A Game of Thrones except the title (and probably including some incest, though again, it won't be the main feature).

On a completely unrelated subject, one of the strangest things in the past couple months for me was the discovery that somebody apparently translated Rent-A-Daughter into Russian (I don't believe it's just a google translate or anything but I don't read the language so I can't be sure.) and added a half-dozen appropriate anime-style images to go along with the story, for a russian loli-art fan website. Full credit was given to me so I don't mind, but it's still very surreal to stumble across it and realize somebody went to that effort for something I did.

>>15775
Ha! I did a quick google and found the site you're talking about. That's hilarious and awesome.

well hell. THAT's why i loved this story so much. it's AnonyMPc brand greatness. well then. carry on good sir. i look forward to moar.

Read this on ASSTR. Love your stories and can't wait for installment 2

Dear OP,

I've bookmarked your page, and plan to read through the rest of your stories. They're wonderful, thank you for sharing your work.

Might as well update - as it stands now, for #2, I just have to write about one and a half sex scenes (well, more like one and a quarter), one plot scene, and then of course general editing and fleshing out. So I'm hoping I'll have it within about 2 weeks, work and life permitting.

Oh, and a minor correction is in order. Since I post my stories here on 7chan first, I usually edit them from how they appear here... I regularly notice an error either only seconds after I hit send (it's extremely common), or from seeing it again and again refreshing to see if there are any comments. Normally, that doesn't mean much, but this time, since I'll be posting each installment of LAC here in the same thread, there will be an inconsistency people might notice.

The character revealed at the end, that Michael/Michaela recognized, was described as being twenties when he should probably have been thirties. This should read he looked in his mid thirties, but should have been late forties.

Early while writing #2 I realized I needed him to be a little older for something else he's connected to... I made the change even before posting #1, but I forgot to go back and edit the age reference in #1. Oops.

The Lolly Anne Conspiracies
Installment #2: "Safehouse" (additional codes: Mg*g*, g*g*, exhib, gsolo, gang, spank, toys, viol)

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 Anne’s 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.”

“I’m not?”

“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."

"Doing what?"

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.

"What's that?"

"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."

"Mine?"

"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 he was saying he going to die, that feeling that I was going to lose him. In some ways, I guess I was, he 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. 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?"

Where can I get a curse like this?

>>16015
Find a gypsy to lay one on you?

---

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 dirty blonde hair in pigtails, and a slightly upturned nose. Most impressively, she had boobs, or she had something the shape of them... they weren't huge, but they were distinctly shaped, 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 either 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 virtal. 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."

"Fine."

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. 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 snaked 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 want, 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 hold, 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 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?"

"Of course."

"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?"

"Sometimes."

"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 thr 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

"Cum?"

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.

"Why not?"

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."

"Birthday girl?"

"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. 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."

"Brony?"

"Bro-pony fan."

"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 their 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 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 Two

Awesome stuff!

PLEASE!!! THIS NEEDS TO CONTINUE!!!

I'm envisioning an alpha mutation in which a Lolly Anne retains her adult male strength. It would have to extend to adult male durability as well, because punching with the strength of an adult male but the fist of a little girl would shatter your fist.

The interesting part is what even an average strength could do with that size. A punch, for example, would lack the inertia of a full-size arm and fist, but that would be compensated by the advantage that a reduced point of contact gives. It would be more like getting hit with a tennis ball or softball at really high speed than getting hit with a fist.

And the speed would definitely be high because of that reduced inertia. Not only could you punch faster, you could run faster and jump higher than even the most accomplished young gymnast.

MOTHERFUCKER

Wow, I was not at all interested in this premise, but you've won me over AnonyMPC! This is great stuff.

The last few days I've found myself looking forward to getting off work so I can come home and read the next installment. Can't say I've ever felt like that about "porn" before.

>>16028
Thanks!

>>16073
I plan on it, but at the moment I'm not feeling it... focusing on MPC4 and Relatively Powered #3.

>>16081
That's an interesting thought. There certainly could be an Alpha with something like that, although it won't be Michaela's. Sometimes I do serials with me not knowing in advance what I'm going to do with a certain element, but I do already know what her Alpha mutation is. Although it probably won't become clear until at least the 4th installment, maybe 5th.

>>16084
I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult. But since I'm an incest fan, I'll take it as a compliment. (Incidentally, I'm sure some Alphas do get to be motherfuckers!)

>>16086
Thanks, it's always an extra compliment that somebody enjoys something they didn't think they'd be into!

There could also be an unfortunate alpha whose time is inverted. Instead of going Lolly three days a month, he only gets three days as a male.

Or one that retains his male voice as a Lolly.

>>16103
I had thought of the inverted-time one, yeah, and I'm sure one will be out there.

The male voice one would just be creepy, though. Still possible, certainly, but disturbing.

Man, this world you've created makes me keep thinking about it. Like how there could be some wheelchair-bound guy, kind of like Stephen Hawking, that would really view Lolly-hood as a blessing that gives him a body that works.

>"Brony?"
>
>"Bro-pony fan."

Stopped reading right there.

>>16171
If you hate bronies, you really should keep reading. I won't spoil, but you'll have a particular appreciation for what happens toward the end.

>>16172

Maybe he doesn't hate them, and he's just offended that I got the characterization wrong.

Anyway, for the record, I'm not a fan, and it's not going to be a part of the series as a whole, I just thought it'd be funny for that particular character.

WTF is this doing on page 4?!? get back to the top!

why do my favorite stories always stop?

Bumping
Needs more udpates

MOAR PLX! K TNX BYE.

Bump for moor! Love this story!

*cough* Page one! *cough*

This is a shorter installment than the previous two. Sorry to those who were expecting more, but I struggled enough with this one as it was.

Installment #3: "On The Streets" (additional codes: MMg*, interr, light analplay, oral)


I don't know how far my feet carried me before I started thinking about the important question of where I should be going. I was just concentrating on running, getting as far away as I could as fast as I could. With the sick feeling in my stomach and the relentless pounding of my heart, there wasn't much room in my awareness for anything else.

Finally, my little lungs started to cry out in pain and I stopped, resting my hands on my knees and sucking up as much air as I could, and I had a second, just a second, to worry about which direction my pursuers would be coming from.

I came out the back, but the window I used was too small for the men, the ones that broke in and shot up my new friends, in an apparent effort to snatch me, to squeeze through. Although I was also a grown man, I was in the body of a little girl, and that let me slip through a tighter space just as they burst into the bathroom. So I got away, but only temporarily. They were almost certainly still after me, but they had to circle around the front, and that had given me a little bit of time... just not very much.

I passed a gap between two buildings, in the direction that would put the most distance between me and them, and came out on a street, which I ran across. A car honked at me and its tires squealed, which almost gave me a heart attack but it didn't really come close to hitting me. As I was thanking my lucky stars for not being hit, I realized that it was almost as bad... the honking almost certainly clued my pursuers in on which way I went.

I took my safety between buildings again, darting in and out, trying to turn as often as possible (without circling back somewhere I'd already been). I only backtracked once, and that was when I stepped on to a street and heard a car at the corner making a sudden turn. Sure they'd just seen me, I turned around back into the block I was just on... but I was running out of energy, and didn't think I could outrun a car, so eventually I hopped a short fence into a small backyard. It was risky, hiding, especially so close to where I was seen, but I needed to catch my breath again. Where I was it was dark, but in moonlight I could see a spot that I could crouch and hide in, a spot that could only be seen from the backyard itself, or perhaps inside the house.

I needed to come up with a better plan, but all I could think is "I hope they don't find me" over and over again. A few minutes later, I heard hurried footsteps near my hiding spot. "There's gotta be a million ways she could have gone. Heads are going to roll for fucking up this badly."

I held my breath, sure they might hear even that. They were talking quietly, whispers... excited whispers, but whispers nonetheless. Yet they were close enough for me to hear them, although I lost a few words to sounds of traffic.

Another voice said, "She can't have gotten far."

"So, what, she's tiny, there's dozens of places to hide. Do we spend the whole night searching trash bins?"

"Nah, let's just get back to the car, one of the others are sure to spot her."

"If they don't? I don't want to take the heat for being the last one to lose her."

"Relax. She's on her own, and she can't hide forever. We'll pick her up again, or catch her trying to get to the subway. Or someone will call the cops, and then... she's ours." That was chilling, but I didn't dare shiver for fear I might rattle something. The footsteps retreated back in the direction they came, and the voices quieted.

Even after they were gone, I stayed hiding, sure it was a trick to get me to come out and go in the other direction. Or even if not, they might spot me as soon as I came out of hiding... maybe they were parked within sight of the alley. But whoever it was that said it, he was right. I couldn't hide forever.

I don't even know how long I did hide... I had no watch or cell phone and fear does strange things to your sense of time. What I do know is that when the fear of staying still finally outweighed the fear of staying still, I got up and started moving.

I managed to cross one more street, a hurried, panicked affair, even though no traffic was in evidence. On the other block, I had a narrow gap between buildings that was too small for a car to fit through, and I took that for some degree of safety.

Then I heard voices and froze again.

Second later, I relaxed. They didn't sound like people who were after me, even though I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying. Their tone, though, the cadence of the conversation... that I could make out. They just sounded like a group of friends, joking around. I got closer, but very slowly... I wanted to be sure I saw them before they saw me.

Snatches of conversation started to become clear. "Seriously, though, we should get moving soon."

"Relax, we don't need to get the shit on the streets until tomorrow."

"Yeah, but he'll be pissed if we keep him waiting without a good reason. I've dealt with this supplier before, he's got a temper."

They sounded black... and I don't mean just because what they were talking about sounded pretty shady, just they had that style of voice. Any other time I might have run the other way, but right now I couldn't think of anybody who'd be less likely to call the cops on me. Soon, I realized that the building I was coming across was a little garage, in the middle of the block, access to the main streets through an alley-like laneway that you had to turn onto.

I circled around to the front and looked inside. Sure enough, there were a group of black guys, dressed casually, long shirts, jeans, mostly, one guy in a hoodie. There were four of them in total, one sitting on something at the back of the garage, the other three leaning either against the wall or the car.

The car gave me hope. It was a minivan, tinted windows in the back, thick seats that would be easy to hide behind. It was the perfect kind of vehicle to use to get out of the area. And it sounded like these guys were on their way out anyway. "Yeah, but we have time to stop for some food, right? Drive-thru the Burger King don't take very long." That was the one sitting, not clearly visible from my position. He was facing in my direction, but hadn't noticed me either.

"Shit, you and your Burger King, man... if we're going to eat burgers it's gotta be Five Guys." This guy was tall and skinny, facing away from me.

I found my voice, finally. "Excuse me." I sounded small and very scared, but then, I was.

Conversation stopped as they all looked down at me. As unexpected interruptions go, I guess I was more unexpected than usual, a preteen girl in pajamas and running shoes, hair probably all a mess. If I was my normal self, they might have glowered suspiciously, maybe told me to fuck off, maybe even been polite, but there'd be a response right away, but a kid? They didn't know quite what to make of me, and their faces were just a little confused.

Finally, one of them spoke, the tall skinny one who was leaning up against the car, nearest me. "What you want, girlie?" He wore the hoodie, and his hands were resting in the side pockets.

That was the question. I knew what I wanted, at least one part of it, but I was nervous because I didn't think they'd be likely to give it... the other problem with being a kid is people assume they'll get in trouble around you. If I made the right pitch, maybe I could change that, but I didn't know what to do. Play a brazen underage slut? I already knew I was willing to do almost anything they wanted, sexually speaking, to get what I wanted... and not just that, the warmth between my legs was starting to become noticeable, just from contemplating it, and them. But that might spook them off. So maybe I should try to play the cuteness card? The problem there was, if I was wrong about them being dealers, or even if I was right and they had a heart, they might be worried enough to try and turn me over to my parents or the cops, neither of whom were an option right now. They were still staring at me while I considered it, so I decided to start with the truth, at the most basic level, and then wing it from there. "I need a ride."

"I'll give you something to ride on," one of the guys on the wall. He was probably the most chubby-looking of the group, but even so, he wasn't obese or anything, just a little heavy-set. He had a moustache that trailed down past his lips. He didn't look like he meant it, he was just making a crude joke, but my loins squeezed together in the hopes that it wasn't just a joke. His closest buddy, serious looking, big nose, and serious stubble going on his head (the others all either were bald or had more full coverings), elbowed him in the stomach, though.

"Do we look like a taxi service?" said the one closest to me, the one who first spoke to me. "You look like you should be in bed, girl."

"I just snuck out. And I only need to go a short way. Please?" I opened my eyes as wide as they could go, and thrust out my bottom lip, then repeated. "Please?" Their faces were stony... not buying the puppy dog look, so it was time to go for broke. I put my thumb in the bottom of pajamas, and pulled down, exposing my pussy, bending backwards slightly to thrust it out towards them. "I'll do almost anything."

By this point they had all turned towards me and advanced, and even the one who was sitting before was now off his ass and near the entrance to the garage. "How old are you?" Now that I could see him clearly, I decided he had kind of a weasely look to him, but that might have been the very thin moustache. He was skinny too, like that tall guy, but this guy was shorter and his baggy clothes made him look a little guy trying to look bulky. He was also darker-toned than the others.

"Old enough," I said, biting my lip in what I hoped was a sexy way. "I'm sneaking out to see my boyfriend." The lie came out easily as I thought of it. "But we have an open relationship... and like I said, I really need a ride."

The weasel-looking guy had weaved his way to the front and now tilted his head, looking at me speculatively... my pussy, rather, not me personally. "Go home, kid," said the guy right behind him, but he put a hand up.

"Hold on, let's not be hasty... maybe we could reach an arrangement."

"You're kidding right?"

The one who was interested first, he raised a hand and said, "Excuse us for a second..." The four of them withdrew into the garage a little, and had a conversation. It wasn't exactly private, I could hear much of what they were saying. From what I could tell, weasel-face was all for it. Two were on the fence, and it looked like each was leaning towards the other side of that fence. Chubby guy, who'd made the crude joke about giving me a ride, was leaning towards making the joke a reality, the tall skinny guy leaning towards sending me away. The last, the guy who had the stubbly-head and really large nose, was totally against it. A shame, because aside from the nose, he was probably the best looking, and I bet he had a good body, neither too skinny nor too fat.

"Seriously?" that guy said at one point. "You guys are crazy."

"No, crazy would be turning down an opportunity like this..."

The tall skinny guy looked back towards me. "Shit man, I don't know, she's a little girl."

The chubby former fence-sitter, who must have come off the fence, lightly smacked the doubter's chest with the back of his hand and arm. "We're not forcing her to do nothin', she's offering. It's not like we're corrupting her... somebody else is obviously giving her the cock, and if she wants more, I say give it to her. Hey, ten-to-one I scare her off with my Black Mamba anyway." He grinned back at me, then stepped forward and unzipped. "You ever sucked cock before?" He pulled it out, without any hesitation... Black Mamba was right, it was pretty huge, both in length and girth, and it didn't even look fully erect. Even in the glaze of arousal that being a Lolly Anne provides, it was a little intimidating.

"Plenty," I boasted, but then asked hopefully, "Can we do this on the way, though?" The people after me might stumble upon us at any moment. If they did, I might survive, but I had a feeling they'd kill these guys just to get to me.

The big, black penis just got closer. It dangled at first, then jerked up towards me, although it didn't stand up straight, and maybe it was just naturally limp rather than rigid, it was still the biggest I'd seen, and would do well in porn. Thick, veiny, the head just slightly less dark than the shaft, a nice milk chocolate color. It was getting near enough to bump into my lip, so I decided what the hell, and opened my mouth to let it inside. It didn't taste like chocolate... but that's okay, I was growing to like the sweaty-skin taste, and moreover, the feel of something alive and twitching in my mouth. He was bigger than any I'd had before... I couldn't even get close to all the way down, and I didn't try, mostly focusing on slobbering around the head.

I heard a couple of the guys moving around me, getting a better look, and then suddenly I realized that there was another dick in front of me. This one was smaller, darker in color, but hard and happy and I let one cock slip out of my mouth and put the other one in. I looked up and realized, to no surprise, it was the one I thought of as weasely-looking, the one most comfortable with accepting my offer. He was also more comfortable to take in my mouth, and I could go down farther, but I didn't stay on him for long, I kept alternating back and forth, one cock at each side.

Soon it began to seem unfair to leave one completely out, so spit on both of my palms to lube myself up and wrapped one hand on each cock, pumping on whichever black dick wasn't in my mouth. I guess one of the benefits of having been a man is that you instinctively know how to give a handjob... I just moved my hand like I was jacking off, except my cock wasn't in the right place.

They were talking a little, more muttering, complimenting me, but I wasn't really paying attention to what they were saying, I was trying to get them off as quickly as possible... that was another reason I started giving a handjobs at the same time. Sometimes they got close enough at once that I could lick the heads of both of them at once, each glans resting on one side of my tongue, like I was the only thing standing in the way of a swordfight. I kissed both dicks in quick succession, and then went back to sucking on the biggest. I spent some extra time on him this time, getting him coated with so much saliva he glistened in the dim light, and a trail of saliva lingered after I pulled away, took a deep breath, and immediately after that, had the smaller dick shoved into my mouth. He grabbed my head like he really wanted me there and I just complied, picking up steam on the dick in my hand.

That's when he started cumming. He thrust his hips forward to get as deep in me as I'd allow, and I felt the jets spurting down my throat, forcing me to swallow or choke. I swallowed, of course, and swallowed, and swallowed, not even really tasting any of it.

While I guzzled down his cum, I was still jacking off the Black Mamba, and I discovered the one flaw in my theory about how good a handjob I could give. Because it wasn't actually my penis, I didn't actually get all the feedback on exactly how close he was to cumming, so I could slow down and make it last, like I'd do with myself. In this case, that was less of a concern than the other problem with that... without any warning, except a groan that got lost in all the other sensations, he started squirting on me. I felt specks of liquids on my neck and tilted my eyes to see it dribbling out of him and, mostly, onto my pajama top.

I didn't want to stain it and jerked it away reflexively, first in the wrong direction, so a good glob landed just above my collarbone, on a slow slide beneath my top, which I suppose was a little better than on the outside. I immediately corrected and aimed it for the ground, where the remainder started to drip out, runny and viscous.

I also finally got a chance to pull my mouth off the guy who'd gone off inside of me, and took a long overdue breath, then let go of both of them and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. "You got a hanky or something?"

"Here, try this..." Black Mamba withdrew into the garage, dick still hanging out of his pants, and pulled a little scrap of cloth off a bench. He returned with it and started to help wipe it off... the cloth was rough and probably a little grungy in its own right, but at least it got the most obvious cum off of me in a hurry. "There you go, good as new. You might want to keep this handy, though, I don't think we're done yet."

"Guys, that is so wrong..." said the stubbly-headed guy, the one who had seemed most against sexually taking advantage of a preteen girl from the getgo.

"Wrong or not, I'm taking my turn..." said the the tall one in the hoodie. He'd seemed reluctant when I made the first offer, but had watched everything and, I guess, got really turned on, enough to overcome whatever objections he had. "Bend this little bitch over." He started undoing his pants... judging by the bulge revealed, his was almost as big as Mr. Black Mamba.

I was up for it... but we were still out in the open, at least relatively speaking. We couldn't be seen from the main streets, but anybody could walk in on us.

I decided I had to make my stand. "I'm not doing anything else unless we get going." I tried to stand up, but a hand held my arm. My knees were really starting to hurt. Next time I got on my knees to blow somebody, I resolved, I was going to make sure it was on a softer surface. "I'm not going to do all you guys only to have you drive off and leave me here afterwards."

"What?" asked the guy who was ready for his turn, grinning. I noticed now that he had a slight gap in his teeth. "You don't trust us?"

"Please?" I said, trying my little girl look.

"Okay, fine..." He zipped up, then reached into his pockets and tossed his keys to the last guy, the one who was least into the idea of fucking a little girl, the one who now stood with a hand over his mouth looking comically freaked out. I could imagine being in his position, not wanting to do something against a little girl but too paralyzed by shock and peer pressure and perhaps a little arousal to interfere and try to play hero.

He fumbled the catch, and the keys fell to the ground with a tinkling noise, but then he caught himself and fetched them off the pavement. "I still don't think this is a good idea," he said.

The apparent owner of the car helped me to my feet and, with one hand on my shoulder, guided me towards the sliding side door. With one mighty heft he pulled it open, and then pushed me inside. "You worry too much Carl." One name got, at least. "Where do you need to go?"

It took me a second to remember that it was directed at me. I didn't actually have a specific destination in mind, I just needed to get out of the area. I'd promised it wasn't far, but I wanted to stretch it as far as I could. "North," I said mostly on impulse, and then I thought of a subway station and named it. The ones nearby I assumed were being watched, but if I could past their watchers, that would take me anywhere in the city.

"Shit, girl, why don't you just take the subway from up the street?" But the door was closed behind us. One of the two I just sucked off, the one with the huge cock, rode shotgun with Carl, and the dark, weasely one sat in the middle seats as bachelor number three directed me towards the very back seats.

"Don't have a card," I said. "Or change. And the subway smells." I looked towards the front of the car uncertainly. "You promised to take me."

"We'll take you, but why don't you take off your pants, first..."

That seemed like a fair compromise. Now that I was hidden from view by the tinted windows, I had less fear of my pursuers stumbling upon us, and felt better already. So I completely stripped down, not just removing my pants, I felt like being all-the-way naked. As I undressed, I asked, "So, are you guys, like, drug dealers or something?"

"What makes you think that?" said the tall skinny guy beside me, watching my body with a hungriness in his eyes, as he began fumbling with his zipper again.

"I heard you talking about meeting up with supplier and taking it to the streets."

He laughed a little. "Nah, it's a marketing thing. I do work for a promotional company now and then. You ever heard of a pop-up shop?" I looked at him blankly, though I thought I knew what it is. "Company hired us to take a load of their designer shit tonight and some advertising and set up a store on the street for like, one day. At the end of the day, the store's gone. This is just for some extra cash, we're all students." College, I guess, but I thought they were older than even that. "Keith over there occasionally sells some weed or Ritalin to friends, but he ain't a professional."

Another name. Keith, the dark, thin-mustached, less-endowed guy in the row right in front of us, looked back. No wonder I thought he look shifty. "Why, you interested in some? I'm tapped out right now, but if you wanted to ditch the boyfriend you're seeing tonight, suck a few more cocks for me, I can ditch this job and take you to some guys with some good shit..."

I was going to decline the offer, but the guy beside me, said, "Shit, dude, don't try to get her into that."

The guy riding shotgun, the chubby one with Black Mamba, said, "Yeah, I know you always wanted to be a pimp, but don't start with the kids."

"Hey, I just know talent when I see it." He pointed at the guy beside me, who'd begun stroking my leg with his huge hands. The fingers were rough, but the caress itself was surprisingly gentle, and comfortably warm. "You haven't had her yet, but you'll see. She sucks a mean cock."

"I do require that in a girl."

I couldn't help but smile. "Does that mean you have a mean cock?"

He grinned. "Nah, it just looks mean, but it'll treat you right." His zipper was down already, and he'd been speaking with a big bulge of underwear that was attracting a lot of my attention, and at this point, he finally pulled it out. It was big, thick, uncircumcised, although the foreskin retracted quickly as it expanded to its full length and revealed a bright light purplish head, unlike the dark brown-colored one of his friends, which was certainly impressive. However, it wasn't the biggest of the group, so far that honor belonged to the guy riding shotgun, who's cum was still on my chest. "Why don't you come sit on my lap a bit?" I was pretty eager to do just that, but looked over towards the front of the vehicle, towards the driver. He took the hint. "Carl, let's get rolling, we promised the girl a ride."

Once we were in motion, I crawled over this guy, straddling him, and he lifted me up to rest up above his dick, on his chest a little, so we were face to face, close enough to kiss, if we wanted to, although he didn't press that. I could smell his breath, which was a little sour, but didn't bother me... my body was much more aroused by his touch, which was quickly becoming less tentative and more forceful. His actions escalated quickly and pretty soon he was sucking on one of my nipples, a sensation that got me dripping wet. I never thought that something so simple would feel so good, not as good as somebody playing with my pussy, but still incredible... feeling them stiffen up, his lips compressing the flesh around. I whimpered softly in pleasure and he pulled away to mutter, "I'm going to fuck you so good..."

"Okay..."

His rough hands squeezed my ass like he was modeling clay, and my butt muscles strained against them. One long finger went in between my ass-cheeks, and approached my asshole. I took an involuntary breath as it touched the little wrinkled bud, and then forced its way inside. "Fuck, you've got a tight ass, too... maybe I should try that."

I winced... not from pain, or at least, not all from pain. It didn't hurt very much, although it was a little uncomfortable, it also felt surprisingly nice. But there was fear there, fear of being hurt if anything bigger went in, and fear of liking it. Stories from earlier that night about guys who found they still loved anal sex after they'd changed back and became fully gay... I didn't want that, or at least, I didn't think I did. Something about that total submission spoke to me, but I retreated from that voice. "No," I said. But the truth was, I did want to try it, at least as a girl... if not for another worry, the reminder, that this was my first night as a girl. Maria recommended I avoid anal, because if something got damaged, I'd be stuck with that damage every time I turned back.

And I knew this guy's cock was much much thicker than his finger, a finger that already felt like it was too big for comfort. "What, you said you'd do anything..." he said teasingly, pulling his finger slightly out and then pushing it deeper... I could swear I felt a knuckle. "You never done anal before?"

"No," I said again. I wanted him out, and I wanted him in at the same time, but the mental image of something tearing made the fear win out over the desire. "I'm saving it," I said quickly. "For my boyfriend. Anything but that, okay?" I looked into his eyes, making my own as wide as I could, and then upped the ante. "Once he's broken me in I'll come back and let you, I just don't want you stretching me out before then, he's nowhere as big as you." A promise I'd never have to keep, I could just avoid the area when I was a girl next... but if I wanted to keep it, I could take some numbers and come back next month. Then, according to the other Lolly Annes, I'd have nothing to worry about with anal except the lingering worry that it might turn me gay. Pain might still be a worry, it would also be temporary... even if somebody stabbed me and fucked the hole, I'd only have to worry about it until I turned back into Michael. The next time I became Michaela, the injury would be gone.

I must have flattered his ego with the remark about being stretched out, because the finger retreated as, with a chuckle, he agreed, "Fair enough. We'll do it the old fashioned way." He lifted me upwards, my legs sliding up his midsection, and his cock sprang forward a little, bouncing up against my slit, giving me a little shiver of pure pleasure. "Man, you're wet girl..."

That's because I wanted it. "Go on, fuck me."

"What are you doing? You crazy, Keith? Don't film that..."

I looked back over my shoulder. Keith, the wannabe pimp who'd cum down my throat, was holding a smartphone and, apparently, filming us. Surprisingly, I didn't mind. Neither did the guy I was fucking. It was Carl, the driver, who was complaining. "Oh come on, I gotta get some video of this chick..."

"You want to get yourself arrested for child porn is what you want," Carl muttered.

"Nobody else's going to see it. Besides, she looks eighteen to me."

"Yeah, I'm totally over eighteen," I said, playing along, but in some ways spoke the absolute truth. I squirmed my pussy back over the head of his cock, settling it down, hoping to give him a good show... I don't know why it turned me on, I guess I didn't really think of it as my body, just one that I borrowed. Besides, the camera wasn't focused on my face, just my ass and pussy, with a huge black cock worming its way inside.

It just barely thin enough to fit inside without damaging myself, I think. Since then, I've kind of used the memory of that cock as my basis... any dick bigger than that, it's going to hurt. Actually, his cock did hurt, it just hurt at the level where, when you're turned on, it doesn't really detract from the pleasure, but rather heightens it. Nothing tore, but I was stretched to my limit. I'm sure the video Keith was filming got a good shot of my cunt sucking it for all its worth even as I pulled up. I couldn't go all the way down, but I went as far as I could before it hurt too much. "Fuck, this bitch is so tight," the guy said. "I can't..."

I felt it, then... it was like his cock started shaking, and then he was shooting inside me, although I didn't feel that part as strongly as I had with Colin earlier that day. I watched his face as his eyes closed and lips opened, even though his teeth were clenched. And then I did started to feel his cum, only it was sliding out of me. "That's it?" I asked in some surprise.

The unnamed chubby guy riding shotgun cracked up. "Fuck we got a real minute man here."

He finally opened his eyes and muttered, "Shut up..."

"Even a little girl knows you should last longer than that, man."

"It's been a while since Tisha left. Give me a second to recover and I'll rock your world..."

I was disappointed, but the only other man I hadn't gotten off was driving, so I hoped he was telling the truth. I let him slide out of me and I rolled to the other seat, then stepped on the floor and bent down to suck his messy, cum-covered cock into my mouth. He was still surprisingly hard... not as big as he was before, but maybe if I just worked it right he wouldn't lose it...

Sure enough, he may not have lasted very long, but it didn't take him long to stiffen up again. The guys were cheering me on as I went to town on him. In a few seconds cock was clean except for a little froth around the base, and less than a minute after that, it was standing upright, and I could see Keith was still recording it. Now my face was on it for sure, so I just hoped they had the sense to keep it amongst themselves, I didn't want to be on the Internet.

I'd been vaguely aware that there was a whine building up in the distance, and now I realized what it was... I could hear sirens, and they were getting close. Flashes of red light strobed across my field of view. "Fuck, there's a lot of cops," grumbled Keith.

"Fucking hell, I knew it, there's probably an Amber alert out on this girl or something... if they catch us we're fucked." That was the guy riding shotgun.

I pulled my mouth off the cock, which was starting to deflate again, maybe from fear of getting caught, and said, "There's no Amber alert." Though I wasn't sure, it was possible whoever was after me put one out. It was a good plan, really, if they wanted to get their hands on me and they had a connection on the police. But I still figured, if anything, those cops were responding to the house I'd left behind, where Malcolm and Barbara and the guards outside were murdered.

"Shit," said Carl, staring straight ahead. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. I told you this was a bad idea. I told you."

The guy I'd just fucked sounded pretty chill about it. "Relax, nobody knows we got her, and it's not like they can see her." His hand on my head assured that I wouldn't be getting up and visible through the window. "We can just drop her off as soon as they pass."

"Yeah, yeah, that's right," agreed Keith, leaning over to look at me. "You're not going to tell, right?" I shook my head. "Put your clothes back on, girl." I decided that was a good idea, slid out from beneath the hand, and began dressing, right on the floor of the car, between the seats. Meanwhile, Carl turned at the next intersection and began looking around for a place to drop me off.

I guess he was worried that he'd be seen on any main street, because he finally pulled into an alley. The tall guy said, "Here, this wasn't exactly where you wanted to go, but it's only a few blocks away."

Great, on my own again. "You can't just leave me here," I said. "You gotta give me some cash, or a phone call or something. Let me use your phone." I reached out for it, but Keith pulled it away and stuffed it in his pocket.

"I'm sure you'll get along," said the guy I'd been fucking as he hauled open the door. "Don't worry." Keith reached over and grabbed my arm, and jerked me towards the door. That's when the other guy helped, and pretty soon I was on my way out onto the streets again. I tried to resist, but that's one of the problems with being a kid, you're small and light, and if a couple of big guys want to toss you around like a piece of luggage, they pretty much can.

Right before my body passed through the doors, I managed to get my hand on the edge of a window and held on with all my might. "No, I'm not going anywhere until you give me some money."

"No, you stupid fucking whore," the guy I'd just fucked spat out, dropping the nice act completely... and I guess technically they were right about the whore part, except I would have done it for free... I just needed money now. At any cost.

My eyes flared as I realized the power I had, even as they overpowered me physically. "You give me money right now or I scream rape." It was a dirty trick, and under the circumstances, they could have reacted poorly... covered my mouth, even killed me, but they were scared already.

It was Keith who finally reached for his wallet, grabbed some bills, and threw them in my direction. I thought I saw a ten which was good enough to get me started, and as most of the bills spilled out onto the street, I let go and stepped out, losing my balance for a second. That second was all they needed to grab the door from the inside and slam it shut again.

I stepped backwards as the car lurched back into motion, so fast that I practically imagined tires squealing, although I don't think it actually made any noise. Then, I bent down to collect my money... realizing with some frustration that some of the money must have drifted on the floor of the car instead of outside with me. All I could find was three paltry dollar bills. I collected them diligently and tucked them into my shoe and made my way towards the mouth of the alley.

Keeping my body hidden behind some trash I checked the street in front of me. It was one of those streets full of a variety of businesses with apartments on top. Not especially comforting, but I had to do something... there had to be a better option out there than hiding in this alley all night. Especially because I was still horny and unsatisfied from my hitchhiking adventure, and that condition would only get worse, not better.

Most of the stores were closed, and the truth was, I wasn't sure I should try my luck with the ones that were open, either. What's a store owner going to do when a little girl in pajamas, cum-stained pajamas for that matter, comes in after dark? Call the police? Yet I spotted one beacon of hope. I waited for a pedestrian to pass so she wouldn't see me, and then crossed the street, taking a glance at exactly which street I was on, and hustled my ass to the place I saw. After a quick check through the window, both for safety and to get the exact address, I carefully opened the door and stepped inside.

It was possibly the shittiest all-night coin laundry you could imagine still being in business in the area. There was a rack of TVs up, old ones, not flat screens, bolted to the ceiling, although only one seemed to be on, playing a rerun of Two and a Half Men, but there didn't seem to be sound. The place was dingy with crappy lime-green paint and fluorescent lights, and the only person inside seemed to be fast asleep on one of the sorting tables. He didn't even stir at the sound of my opening the door.

It was perfect. At least, for now, and largely because of the two payphones in the back. Calling 911 or the police was problematic... that guy said if the police got me, I'd be "theirs," and I had no reason to doubt it. After all, when my girlfriend called them this morning (was it only this morning?) to report a little girl in my apartment, both sides sent people after me. So the people who killed Malcolm and Barbara almost certainly had some inside line on the police, and they were already in the area hunting for me. No, calling the cops was probably just as good as giving myself up to them. But I knew Maria's phone number... actually, I remembered the way the numbers related to each other, and from that I could derive it... but that was just as good. I could call her. I could trust her, I was sure of it.

But even if I was wrong, it was really the only thing I could think of to do. It was call her, or spend the night on my own, and that prospect terrified me.

The guy on the table gave me a little bit of concern... I figured he was homeless, but I might have been a bit hasty. Maybe he just took a nap while waiting for his laundry to finish. Or maybe he was supposed to be in the booth but he was sleeping on the job. But he was white with a kind of bushy beard, and looked skinny and was wearing what looked like an army surplus jacket that was a little too warm for the weather, at least, for walking around in the day. For sleeping outside at night, or on a cold table, it was probably comfortable enough. So homeless was my best guess.

He didn't smell particularly bad, but maybe he'd taken advantage of the facilities and rubbed soap on himself or something, and anyway, I didn't get close enough for a good whiff... I just passed by him on tip toes to see that he was actually asleep, not just lying there with his eyes closed. His mouth hung open and his breathing was slow and a bit nasally, like he was on the edge of what you'd call a snorer.

I next went to the phone, made sure it worked, and then walked over to the change machine. The dollar was rejected two times before it finally got sucked into the machine, and then I flinched at the clatter made when the coins dropped. The homeless guy's legs shifted a little, but he didn't seem to get up and notice me.

Now came the moment of truth... had I actually gotten the numbers right, or did I screw up somewhere? I went over it again in my head, and they seemed right, but that just meant that if I was wrong, I was wrong at some fundamental level that I'd be unable to fix. I slipped the coins into the slot, listened to the machine take them up, and then dialed.

It rang twice, and was starting a third, and I was fidgeting like mad, certain it was about to go to voice mail and I'd be left once again without any direction, but finally, the ring cut off and I heard a tired, girly voice saying, "Hello?"

"Maria?" I whispered hopefully. "It's Michaela."

There was a pause, and a deep exhalation that sounded like annoyance. "Look, I know I said you could call me, but I'm just about ready for sleep and..."

"Barbara's dead. Malcolm too." I'd kept it together so far, but now, actually being able to say it, my voice cracked, and tears started streaming down my face. Not just tears, I could feel my nose running as well. "Somebody burst in... they were after me. I got away, but..." I rubbed my face with the sleeve of my pajamas.

Maria sounded instantly more alert, and concerned. "Are you okay? Where are you now?"

"I'm in a coin laundry."

"Are you safe?"

"I think so. There's a homeless guy here, but he's sleeping." I checked over again to be sure. Yes, he still seemed to be sleeping.

"Where is it?" I read off the address. "Okay, stay there, I'll send somebody to..." Just as I was about to interrupt with a request that she not send somebody at all, Maria swore. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. I don't know who I can send, I'll have to come get you myself." I breathed out softly in relief. "I might be a little while, probably not more than an hour. Do you think you can stay there? Is it safe?"

I didn't know what the word meant anymore. But I hadn't seen any sign of pursuit for a while. I might risk cops. I might risk rape, or at least a rapist... but maybe it would turn out to be consensual. "Yes... I think so."

"I'll have my phone with me, so if you can't, call me again and let me know, okay?"

"Okay."

"See you soon. Bye."

And it was over. When I was talking to her, it felt like I wasn't alone, but now I was, except for a sleeping man. At least now I just had to wait.

It was a hell of a wait. I tried to watch TV, but without sound, it's hard to stay focused... I found myself craving one of those news channels that scrolls information at the bottom of the screen. At least then I'd have something to read.

When I couldn't take silent sitcoms anymore, I paced back and forth around the area of the laundry farthest from my sleeping companion, reading anything... laundry instructions, change machine signs, even a religious tract pamphlet somebody had left. My soul wasn't saved, but it killed some time.

I tried the bathroom at one point, and it was totally disgusting. It must have been a week since somebody cleaned it. But I really had to go, so I squatted over the bowl and let it dribble. It was harder than I thought. I thought girls were supposed to be cleaner in the bathroom, but I think I got more pee on the floor than I've ever done as a guy (at least, while I was sober).

I went back to TV watching after that, but I began watching the homeless guy, because he would occasionally change position slightly and make me worried he was going to wake up. What would I do if he did? I played with the thought a little, trying to come up with cover stories for why I might be there, but in the end, it always seemed to come down to three options. Either he wouldn't care, being too wrapped up in his own demons to worry about me, I'd have to run, or I'd have to offer myself to him sexually.

The last thought appealed to me most, of course, and although it shouldn't have surprised me given what had already happened that day, it did... I was such a depraved little slut that I was getting turned on by the thought of him, from his perspective, forcing himself on me. Even more than that, for a few minutes I was seriously considering going up to him, unzipping his pants, and seeing if I could get a look at his cock. Maybe I could even suck him off without waking him.

It was incredibly perverted, and I shuddered as I thought about how it would probably be disgusting and smelly, but the fantasy in my head didn't come with smells, just sights and the feel of a warm pulsating thing inside me. I hadn't gotten off with the black guys, and although I'd been hornier that day, it was starting to get distracting again.

I stepped back into the bathroom for a couple minutes before I started masturbating, getting myself too worked up. The bad smell came in handy there, at least. It didn't quench the fires, but it quieted them.

For most of the rest of the time I paced, as boredom and even arousal gave way to fear. It was taking too long. I became sure that somehow the people who were hunting me earlier would find me. I trusted Maria, but for all I knew they had a tap on her phone. When I finally saw Maria open the door, I almost panicked, because I didn't recognize her.

At least, I didn't recognize her right away. She was still the same girl, she hadn't turned back into a man or anything, like I knew was supposed to be coming, sometime tonight in fact, but she looked a lot different than she had the last time I saw her. To start with, her clothes were different. She wore dumpy jeans and a long t-shirt. Her hair was also loose and wild, even a little frizzy, not in the braid I remembered. So at first I thought it might be somebody else. But when she turned to look directly at me and I saw those green eyes, and high cheekbones, and, most distinctively, a little bandage under her eye, I knew it was her, and I let out a breath.

I ran over to hug her, somehow feeling all the tension and anxiety at once again as it flowed out of me. She embraced me, a little awkwardly, and I felt a hard-edged lump on her hip that must have been her gun, but I didn't care. I bawled, "I'm so glad to see you, I was so scared."

"It's okay," she said. "I'm here."

There was a throat-clearing sound, and the two of us whipped our heads towards the third person in the laundry. He wasn't awake, at least not obviously so, it was one of those sounds people make that make you think they might wake up any second. I went still, hoping that not moving would make him drift safely back to a deeper sleep.

Maria took the other route. She let go of me, and walked right up to the table, and poked him in the shoulder with two fingers. He didn't move, so she did it again. Finally, he gave what looked like an all-over shudder, and spun on his side facing her. I thought he might strike her, but the moment he'd moved, she had deftly stepped back outside of the range of his arms.

The man stared at her for a moment, presumably wondering if she was real or a dream, and then looked around wildly, although he didn't look directly at me. "My dad says he's going to call the cops as soon as he's out of the bathroom," Maria warned him, looking significantly towards the back. He looked, then locked eyes on her, and she stared him down, but then finally reached into her pocked and pulled out a crumpled twenty. "Buy yourself some booze or something, but do it somewhere else."

He continued to stare at her for a few seconds, but then grabbed the money, pulled himself to a seating position, took a deep breath, and slid off. He looked back at me as he grabbed his worn bag, then to Maria again, and headed towards the door, muttering, "Fucking kids."

The door slammed shut behind him, but finally we were alone. Maria looked me over like a worried mother, checking for cuts and bruises. "What happened?"

I relayed the story, how the men came through the door with guns, how they shot Barbara first, how Malcolm tried to save me, and escaping through the window. I even told her about the guys I hitched a ride with, although I didn't try to make it salacious or sexy as I otherwise might... the memories, the fact that two people I was starting to like were now dead, I was starting to tear up again.

She wiped away my tears with her shirt, and had me sit down, and then her phone rang. She held up one finger to her lips, and I nodded, doing my best to shut up. "Hello. Any news?" She listened for a while, and then frowned. "Damn." Another pause. "That's good news at least. Set up a guard, just in case. What about Michaela?" She took a deep breath, exhaling through her mouth, and then grunted in frustration, followed by a loud swear. "Fuck! I guess we have to assume they have her... keep looking, though, you never know. She's surprised me so far." She caught my eye, and added, "More resourceful than I'd expect." I beamed with pride. "I really need to crash so I can transform. First thing tomorrow we start figuring out how the fuck the fucking Company learned about our fucking safehouse. I hope somebody just screwed up, because if we've got a traitor, heads are going to roll." I remembered somebody else using that phrase that night, and I had a panicked moment where I wondered if there was a connection, before I calmed down and realized it was just a coincidence. It was a common enough saying. Michaela sighed. "Samuel's in charge until I wake up." She ended the call, and then started making another. "Good news. Barbara's alive."

I was so stunned I couldn't even smile. I hadn't even considered that as an option, and it just seemed so out there that it seemed just as plausible that it was some kind of sick joke. "She is?"

"Yeah. If she survives the next few days, she'll be good as new." That seemed not just implausible but impossible. She might have survived, the initial moment was too much of a blur, but even if she did survive, she'd be in a hospital, maybe a wheelchair the rest of her life. Then I remembered again what Barbara herself had told me... she just had to turn back into a male. The next time she became Barbara, the wounds would be magically healed. "What about Malcolm?"

Maria's face was grim. "Dead. So were the guards posted outside. Whoever did this was thorough."

"You think... you think they'll try to finish the job with Barbara?"

"Honestly, no. They were after you. There's no reason to go after Barbara now, unless there was a chance she recognized the attackers, and even then... it's pretty public. It's one thing to murder a bunch of people in a hidden little safehouse in a bad neighborhood... it's another to kill a little girl in a hospital. There are cops there already, since they think she's the only surviving witness." Maria wrinkled her forehead in thought. "That's going to make Richard's extraction difficult, but nothing we haven't done before."

"Who are you calling?"

"Adam," she said. "I've been trying to reach him since you called. I need another place to take you."

"You're not worried he's the leak?"

"If Adam's the leak, I might as well drop you off to the Company myself. Right now he is literally the only one I still trust one hundred percent." I wasn't so sure, but I was willing to trust Maria that much. She hung up. Apparently Adam didn't answer. "I just wish he'd answer his fucking phone."

Maybe he's dead, I thought. They'd said the Company had made attempts on his life before. Maybe tonight was all part of a big coordinated move on their part. But I didn't say it out loud. "So what do we do now?" is what I did say.

Maria sighed in frustration. "If I wasn't a girl I could set something up, but as it is... for tonight, I don't think I have any other choice." I waited, my whole life seeming to hang on the moment. "I'm going to take you to my place."

"That sounds like it might be okay," I said, doing my best to downplay my reaction. The truth was, I now felt that incredible urge to smile widely, the urge I should have felt when I heard Barbara was alive. I wanted to beam, even after everything that happened... not because I wanted to check out her place or anything like that, but just in relief because it not only sounded like it was safe, but also like a guarantee she wasn't going to just leave me like she had before.

Maria nodded, as though to herself, and then started to the door. She held the door for me on the way out, but after that I had to let her get in front of me to lead the way. We walked along the sidewalk, boldly, openly, and there were people on it up ahead, I was starting to get a little worried. "Where are we going?" I asked after we'd passed a few stores.

She pointed. "My car." It was a dark blue Chevy Malibu, and although the lights weren't on inside, I could see that there was somebody in the driver's seat.

"Who's that?" I asked nervously, unwilling to trust anybody new. As we got closer, I could see that it was a woman. She had black hair, cut short, and it was hard to judge her age in the poor light, but she was definitely an adult, not a Lolly Anne. Maybe in her twenties or thirties.

Maria looked back at me, no expression on her face, and then pulled open the door and said words that, for some irrational reason, made my heart sink. "That's my wife."

End of Installment Three

I feel conflicted reading this.

Wow, this is pretty gripping. Slutty preteens aside, I can't wait for the next installment

Well, one "conflicted" and one positive comment in the three days since I've posted the latest installment (two positive comments if you count every other place I post combined), so I guess it's safe to say this one didn't go over very well compared to the last ones. Sorry. I'll try harder next time, when I get to it.

The next few days will be filled with travel, holiday merriment, family dynamics that are unfortunately nothing like the kind I write about, and probably more booze than is healthy, so I won't be writing anything until things settle down, but I've got a bit of a handle on the stalled part of the next Relatively Powered issue.

So will you be continuing this story? Because it would a terrible shame to stop.

I love this. It falls directly into like, 90% of my weird, confusing fetishes and it's written well. This last chapter was a little rough, I think, but it's still thousands of times better than a lot of the other stuff here.

I very much enjoy this series. Besides being short, I thought this installment was great! Hope you write more. Happy Holidays AnonyMPC.

>>17935
I thought it was good, though I think you should have left it with just the first BJs. I read this mostly for the story though so I might be a bit biased.

>>17937

Yeah, eventually. Although I certainly love praise and feedback, I write mostly because I find the stories hot and I like them better in a concrete form rather than just in my head. Of course, if they were roundly hated, I'd probably just keep them to myself, but that's not in danger of happening either.

>>17940
Sorry it doesn't work for you. Personally, I think of everything I write as somewhat schlocky, so I can't always see what'll work for some people and not others.

>>17941
Thanks! And I agree it's a little rough, but I struggled a lot with this one, it just kept not working the way I wanted it to. Writer's Block sometimes isn't the worst curse of the writer... it's when the story keeps running itself into a ditch.

>>17969
>>17972
Thanks!

>>17976
I prefer this to RP and MPC actually. I like the actual element of mystery going on here.

More please!!!

The Lolly Anne Conspiracies is the best adult fiction I've read since the 90s. While like most reader I felt that Installment 3 wasn't up to the quality of the 1st 2 installments. It was largely because Installment 3 had very little story progression. It was mostly sex punctuated with story. Where as 1 & 2 were story punctuated with sex.

I really hope for another update soon. The character development and intrigue of this wonderful world you created has had me hooked for over a year. But it's so long between updates... Out of desperation for updates I'm making my first ever post to these boards, previously I just lurked. So I repeat...

MOAR PLX!!!

I am glad I got, damn it now I am hooked on another one of your stories..

Wow, are all of your stories this good? I have literally been taking my phone out just to read this story when I get bored whilst out with friends!

>>19504
I, for one, believe all of AnonyMPC's stories to be excellent. Try 'Relatively Powered' if you like the scifi/fantasy themes.

Finally completed another installment... this one took me forever, I'm afraid, and taught me a valuable lesson: Trying to force something just because I haven't done it in a while does not work for me, because I procrastinate like a motherfucker (the expression makes perfect sense to me, for I assume if you're fucking your mother, your mom no longer has the moral authority to force you to do your homework or other chores right away).

So from now on I'm going to try hard to not try so hard, and focus on whatever writing I want to do in any given day, whether it's a new story or new installment of a serial or MPC5 or whatever. All three have been things I've wanted to work on while I was trying to force myself to focus on this, but who knows how long any particular interest will last so I can't even begin to guess what the next one I'll finish will be. I know that's not what you'd like to hear... I'd like to be faster too, believe me.

Anyway, as usual, still rough, editing while I'm posting, so it might take a few days, you might want to wait before reading the whole thing.

But without furthur ado...

The Lolly Anne Conspiracies
Installment #4: "Sleepover" (additional codes: nc, oral, Fg*)

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."

"What?"

"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?"

"Yeah."

"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."

"Orgasms?"

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.

Hot damn, an update! Thank you!

Thanks for the update none the less.

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?"

"No."

"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?"

"Yeah."

"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..."

"...and?"

"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..."

"Yeah."

"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

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, you can enjoy this picture drawn by artist Polyle on hentai-foundry, of Maria. 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: http://www.hentai-foundry.com/pictures/user/Polyle/251575/Maria

Why you gotta make it so serious? Why can't porn just be porn, and not a grim spiral into unending pain and suffering?

Because this is one of his sci-fi serials. He writes straight porn, too.

>>21641
Because porn with plot is awesome. :)

>>21654
True that. Oh, it might not be needed when you watch porn, but when you read it you need fuel for your imagination and that's what the story is.

I'd all but given up hope of seeing this story finished. Thanks for continuing OP!

Mint as always your an amazingly talented writer. Nothing makes my day like checking the thread to find that you've posted a chapter.

I just found this and read through part 1. I'm tired as so I scanned through and saved the rest of the story into a txt file. I can't want to continue reading though!

>>21641
I've got plenty of stories where it's just nothing but porn, but I write this because I enjoy a little plot, too. Though, "a grim spiral into unending pain and suffering"? That seems a little much. I mean, there's less violence than in the average episode of
Once Upon A Time.

>>21689
Well, you should give up hope of seeing the story finished, because, as a serial, I don't intend to 'finish' even if I write 100 parts. Though at the rate I'm going, it'll probably just trail off long before that.

>>21733
I think you may be accidentally responding on the wrong story.

Thanks to everyone else who responded positively, glad you're still enjoying this despite the long wait between installments.

>>21641
This story is pretty captivating. How can you not love it?

I haven't read all your work, AnonyMPC, but I've read a fair amount and this is my favorite by far. The plot is absolutely magnificent.

>>21735

I don't know how to say this so I'll just let it out. My younger brother died of cancer a few weeks ago. He was a big fan of your stories. I left a copy of Notepad with saved copies of MPC 1-3 open on my screen one day and he read them all while I was out. He assumed that I had written them and asked me if I was writing any more. So I linked him to your ASSTR page and he became a dedicated AnonyMPC reader like me. We then both got into writing with the idea of making erotica like you but eventually transitioned one of our ideas into a fantasy novel collaboration that's about 90% done. I don't know if it really has a chance of getting published by writing it was a blast.

I know you probably don't care about any of this but I just wanted to say thanks for giving me some special memories with my brother. It was a weird thing to bond over but we enjoyed the result and I'm glad we were able to become closer before he left.

Where can I find more stories like this?

>>23431
http://www.asstr.org/~AnonyMPC/
Scroll down to Relatively Powered. They're both sci-fi themed and it's really good.

>>23353

Wow, I'm not even sure how to respond to that. Sorry to hear about your brother, and that I didn't manage to finish the story so he could have read it. Good luck with your collaboration, I hope it works out, but even if not, I'm sure it was worth it just for you.

>>23431

Somebody else already posted the link to my other stories, but if you're looking specifically for other stories about men turning into little girls... I know they're out there (I think I even stumbled across one recently), but I'm afraid I can't point you there. Maybe others can.