From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:35:16 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (01/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:35:16 GMT
Hi.
Due the problems which recently apprared on AOL postings I take the
liberty to repost the story agin. As far as I know I got approvement
from Waldo.
BTW, I like to get your attention for the nym.alias.net remailer. It
seems to me that this server has alot of possibilities and for me as
an interested person in stories it would give me a way to correspond
to persons more directly instead of open letters. For further
information send a mail to help@nym.alias.net. It's not so complicated
as it sounds, even I would be able to do so and I'm really dumb (or
may be not ?).
As ever I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim on it. If
you have some usefull hints or some good coments, your mail is then
welcome. Flames, you know, they will be piped to /dev/null.
If you are an author and wish to remain anonymouns or just try to
avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your
stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands for
story postings and for nothing else.
Enjoy the story.
Ciao
Nostrumo
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Death Row
by Waldo
This is a multi-chapter story with a transgender theme.
While there's very heavy sex, I concentrate more on the
story than on the sex. If you're underaged or have any
major hang-ups, I suggest that you don't read any further.
Chapter 1 - The AhChing
The solid clank of the heavy metal door echoed
through the long hallway. Although the hallway was
brightly lit by overhead lights, there was a cold and
unfriendly pallor that could only be understood by
someone that has personally been within the confining
walls of a prison's Death Row. The escort guard
nodded to the old man to continue, wondering how the
old man was avoiding the claustrophobic and clammy
feeling that most people experience; remembering his
own, first apprehensive walk down this corridor.
Leaning on his hand carved cane, the very ancient and
dispassionate Chinese man slowly walked down the
hallway to the next checkpoint - the checkpoint where
the prison guards would take away his cane.
The clicking sounds of the guard's hard leather steel-
toed boots echoed off the walls, drowning out the soft
whisper of the old man's soft-leather wrapped feet. The
boot sounds had a weird rhythm - two sharp clicks
then a long pause as the guard stopped to wait for the
old man as the old man stepped out silently with his
right foot and then softly and silently dragged his left
foot, then step out again with his right foot, dragging
his left foot. The old man's shorter step and inability to
fully use his left leg, caused him to take ten steps to
the guard's two steps.
After what seemed like an extremely long time to the
escort guard, they reached the Death Row checkpoint.
The two guards manning the checkpoint examined the
paperwork presented by the escort guard. After
reading the papers, the senior guard said "Mr. Chin,
you're here to visit prisoner 14718, John Augustus. I
have to remind you of the standard rules that you
agreed to; upon your entry to our federal facility today.
Because we're under a security alert, we have to take
extra procedures with certain prisoners, which
includes prisoner Augustus. We'll escort you into a
special visiting area, where we have a chair placed
outside a holding cell. After you sit down in the chair,
we'll take your cane from you. From the time that you
sit down, you can't get up or cross the yellow line
that's four feet in front of the chair upon entering or
leaving the holding cell. We'll escort prisoner Augustus
into the holding cell. Then we'll leave the room, so that
you may talk to him. While there won't be any guards
in the room, you'll be monitored at all times by a silent
camera - we can see you but can't hear your private
discussion with the prisoner. If you leave your chair or
attempt to pass prisoner Augustus anything, we'll re-
enter the room and arrest you. Do you understand the
rules and agree to comply?"
The old man slightly nodded his head affirmatively,
displaying no emotion within his cold, dark eyes.
Unable to accept the nod as an official answer, the
guard repeated his request in his official sounding
tone "I have to have a vocal acknowledgment."
"Yes." Replied the old man in an ancient, creaking
voice, rotted by the years.
The other checkpoint guard flipped some switches on
his control panel, resulting in an electric motor's whirl
sounding as a heavy metal door unlocked and opened,
reveling a large room. The escort guard and checkpoint
guard escorted the old man into the room and to a
heavy metal chair against the wall that was fastened to
the floor, facing a small jail cell. The chair was ten feet
away from the jail cell and four feet in front of the
chair was a bright yellow painted line.
The old man sat down in the chair and the guard took
his cane. Then they waited, not saying a word as they
stared at the empty cell. About five minutes later, the
sound of another motor driven door announced the
prisoner's arrival. A door within the jail cell opened
and three guards escorted a prisoner wearing a bright
orange jumpsuit-type coverall into the room. The
prisoner took short halting steps because his feet and
arms were restrained in heavy metal manacles; the
jingling sounds of the manacles echoing quite loudly in
the bare room.
The prisoner's general build and facial structure was
so similar to the deceased actor Peter Lorre, that the
few visitors (reporters, social workers, etc.) who hadn't
known John Augustus previously, would experience a
series of late night movie flashbacks as they stared at
the prisoner; expecting a psychotic killer. The prisoner
was almost a clone except that he had a neatly
trimmed beard and was bald-headed. The three guards
helped the prisoner sit down in a similar chair within
the jail cell and fastened his arm manacles to the
chair. After checking the locks, the three guards
marched precisely out of the jail cell, the sound of the
heavy metal door's clank sound echoing through the
room.
The checkpoint guard repeated his instructions "Mr.
Chin, you have one hour from the time that I exit this
room. We'll constantly monitor your video image with
our camera but your privacy is ensured because we
don't have any audio capabilities on our cameras. If we
observe you violate any of the rules that were
explained to you at our main gate and by myself - then
this session is instantly canceled. We'll forcibly remove
you from this room if necessary and you're subject to
possible arrest and/or detention. If you wish to leave
before the one hour is up, press the button on the side
of your chair and wait for me to enter the room."
The old man nodded acceptance of the mandatory
rules. The guard frowned, knowing that he was
supposed to get a verbal response; but accepted the
nod. Satisfied with the compliance to procedures so
far, the checkpoint guard nodded to the escort guard
and they left the room, taking the old man's cane.
Neither occupant spoke or moved, as they stared at
each other until about ten seconds after the guards
shut the door after their exit.
The prisoner was the first to break the silence,
speaking in a deep baritone that seemed so out of
place to anyone expecting Peter Lorre's pip-squeak
irritating monotone voice "It's so nice of you to visit
me. I don't get many visitors, since my appeals were
denied. Even my lawyer won't come to see me unless I
pay him."
The old man's ancient voice cracked as he spoke about
the issue that brought him to the prison "Where is my
grandson? Why are you doing this to us"
"Whoa, old man. Before we get down to business, let's
share a few friendly social amenities. You know - get to
know each other. How's the World Series coming? Has
the frost killed the flowers yet? I don't get much
opportunity to find out about the outside world, in
here. Death row has some very strict social rules that
limit long term friendships. I would offer you one of my
cigars but as you can see - the guards won't allow us
to share items and also are very restrictive in allowing
me to have any privileges."
Ignoring the direction that the prisoner was leading
the discussion, the old man continued "If my grandson
is harmed, I'll destroy you and your offspring."
"I like a good cigar. It's one of the few enjoyments that
the guards permit me. They x-ray them and steal a few
of them but it's nice to sit down and think while I
smoke a good cigar. I only get to smoke one a day and
I'll be glad when I can have as many as I want again."
"My grandson's safety and his return to me - I have
nothing else to discuss with you."
"Shit, don't you believe in getting to know anyone
before getting down to business? Don't worry about
your grandson - he's all right and if anything
happened to him, you've got at least thirty more
grandsons - so what's one more kid in this already
overpopulated world? At least he's all right now that
you're here to see me, but if you don't cooperate with
me - well, let's just say that your coming here today
saved my friends from doing more drastic things -
such as cutting his tongue out. If you'd come here last
week like we politely asked you, then we wouldn't have
had to cut his ear off to get your attention. While his
ear won't grow back, he can let his hair grow long to
hide the slight imbalance that having only one ear
causes. You see, I don't have much time - the denial of
my last appeal had a small technical problem that will
only suffice to delay my execution, not free me. So I
don't have much time to pussy-foot around and had to
convince you that we mean business. I had a feeling
that you'd be willing to cooperate once you saw his
ear."
"I want him released - today! Then I'll do what you're
requesting." The old man calmly stated.
"No. I thought that seeing your grandson's ear would
convince you that I'm in charge and you're working for
me. I call the shots. As long as you do what I say, he's
all right. The first time that you hesitate, we cut his
tongue out - the next time, we chop his dick off - and
the next, he loses an arm. Then I get really mad.
Believe me when I say that I have nothing to lose, so
I'm quite ready to do what ever it takes to get your
cooperation. Understand?" He hissed the last word to
emphasize his point.
"Let's get it over with. You have arranged it so that I
have no choice but to comply with your demands - or
lose one of my favorite grandchildren. Can you arrange
for my herbs to be smuggled to you?" the old man's
angry, dark eyes glinted in the harsh prison overhead
light.
"Yeah, but first I have to make sure that your magic or
whatever you call it - can do what you're supposed to
do. I don't want to take any of your herbs without
knowing that it works. I want a test and I've got a
volunteer in here that you can use to demonstrate that
it works."
"I can't do that. My ancient Chinese rituals are
extremely difficult to plan for. It won't work if the star
positions aren't lined up correctly. I can estimate a
target site for one body exchange but two exchanges is
impossible. It's something that probably can't be
done."
The prisoner's yellow teeth gleamed as he laughed "I
don't take nothing until I see it work - and KNOW IT
WORKS. Remember that your grandson is running out
of easily removable body parts. I've spent a lot of time
talking through the bars to the man in the cell next to
me. His name's Robert Williams - in here for killing a
clerk during a robbery. Well, to tell the truth, it was
his second liquor store shooting in less than five years
and they threw the book at him. From spending the
last three years on Death Row with him in the next
cell, I know Bob better than I know my own brother. I
want you to work your magic on him, then after I see
his new body, I'll try it. The day that he's sitting in that
chair - a free man with a new identity - and confirms
to me that it's really him, then I'll let you do your
hocus pocus on me. Until then, your grandson is the
guest of my friends."
For almost a minute, they just stared at each other.
Then the old man said "I don't make the rules of the
AhChing. I just follow them. The position of the stars
determines the start date and the location of the guest.
If you were free to move to a different location, then I
might be able to do it. But with you locked up in here,
I can't predict the correct combination pattern twice in
a row. To successfully exchange your friend, it takes
25 days for the whole process. Each day for the first
ten days, he must digest a small pinch of my herbs,
which will invoke a coma each day for his body. It'll
start off with him going to sleep and waking up in his
new host body while his real body remains in the
coma. He'll be awake and in control of his new body,
but it'll only last for an hour the first day. For the next
twenty four days, it will increase by one hour each day
until the last day, when it becomes permanent, after
he's spent a full twenty-four hours in his host body.
That day, his former body will die while still in it's
coma and he becomes the person whose body he's
invaded."
"Fuck, that might be difficult to get to work in here. I
was hoping it was an instant change which I could
control - but to pull it off for twenty five days in a row
is a different story. I can get the herbs in here but I
can't bribe all the guards. Someone not on my payroll,
will notice the fucking coma and transfer him to the
medics. At first, the stupid, asshole guards won't
notice anything because it'll appear that he's just
sleeping, but when it gets where he can't be woken up
after his nightly eight hours of sleep, they'll become
suspicious. Then when it occurs the next day also,
they'll become very suspicious."
"Then release my grandson. I can't change the way the
AhChing works. I don't understand how it works or
have any control over the ancient rituals taught to me
by my grandfather. If your friend's transferred away
from this general location prior to the last day, it'll be
over. As long as he's within a mile of this location, it'll
work. If he's moved and loses his starting position, it
can't be re-tried with him. The stars only give any
person one chance."
A grim smile formed on John Augustus's face "Ok,
we'll find some way to live with that limitation. What
sort of body will he wind up in? Any options?"
"No. And the rules are very strict. I've calculated a
triangle using the stars and this prison, finding a
location where the other leg of the triangle comes to
earth. I've rented a house and started the process of
luring a prospective recipient there. It will be difficult
to get a second person there for you."
"Well, you'll figure out some way to do it. What does
Bob's new body look like?"
"I don't know and can't do anything to influence the
choice. The ritual demands that I issue an invitation to
many people and accept whoever arrives, if they arrive
within a ten minute period of my scheduled time. I
only know that his and your new bodies are going to
be female."
"Shit, a woman - Bob's going to love being a cunt. As
for myself, I don't care. I only want out of here and
could live with anything short of a fucking cat's body. I
hate cats. Why can't you invite a man?"
"I don't make the rules. It won't work unless the
recipient is a woman."
"Make sure it's an attractive body that's healthy and
young."
"I have no choice. The stars will pick someone to
respond to my invitation."
The prisoner stared at the old man for several seconds
and then softly said "I guess that being a fucking bitch
is better than being in here. You've got a deal. When
can you start?"
******
The car turned off the dirt road and slowly wound
down the twisting, narrow dirt road that led to the old
farmhouse sitting in the middle of very pretty pastoral
farm lands. Many shafts of glimmering sunlight cut
through the trees of the forest on one side of the road.
The driver parked the car beside the small empty
chicken-house, rolling down the window because it
was a warm day. After cutting off the engine, twenty-
seven year old Andrea Bell looked at her folded
newspaper. An ad was circled that read:
FOR RENT - Small, remote farmhouse. Close to
mountains, ideal for writer or artist wanting
to get away. 555-1268
She stepped out of the car, adjusting her skirt. She
was 5'10" tall, but the type of heels that she always
wore, put her at eye level with any 6 foot tall man. She
always dressed as if she was a very prim and proper,
expensive, real estate broker or lawyer - very
businesslike. For example, the clothes that she had on
today - her very tailored gray skirt, blouse, and
double-breasted jacket were perfectly coordinated,
with a scarf around her neck to add a touch of
femininity to her professional look. It was the type of
clothes expected of a rich minister's wife.
A simple gold ring on her finger hinted of a potential
husband, but her close friends knew that she only
wore the ring to scare off any potential suitors,
preferring to have a good book in her bed instead of a
man. She had never been married but had tried some
lovers, discovering that she didn't like sex. At least sex
with a man.
Her gray-green eyes were hidden behind a pair of
glasses that she really didn't need to wear, except she
liked the way the glasses helped her desired image;
thinking that the glasses hid the worry lines that were
already forming on her young face. She had little need
for make-up; her looks were well-defined and classic,
with high cheekbones, a small straight nose, and high
forehead, giving her face an Ivy League look that a
model would be proud to have. Her black hair was
pulled into a small upsweep French twist bun on the
back of her head, wrapped around one of those hidden
little gizmos that secured every strand of hair, making
her look somewhat like a schoolteacher. She was
slender, with long legs, narrow wrists and skinny
arms, weighing only 127 pounds. Most people that
knew her, thought that she could use a little more
meat on her bones.
Because she believed in a presenting a positive image
at all times, she forced a light smile to her face and
adjusted her suit jacket so that it camouflaged her
breasts. Under the suit, was the body of a woman,
with soft flowing curves that the suit hid, instead of
complementing her very nice figure. A former lover had
declared her body to be too exquisite to be hidden
behind such prim and proper clothes, but she hadn't
believed him. Her breasts were round and firm, well-
proportioned breasts, with no sag at all due to her
constant bra wearing. Her bras were chosen to
minimize her chest and to keep her breasts from
jiggling as she walked. Her small waist accented the
firm roundness of her hips, but as usual, was hidden
by the bottom of her jacket. Her legs were slender, firm
and shapely, but her skirt hid her knees, ending just
below her knees, instead of the current more-in style
mid-thigh length.
Her quick, bright smile was aimed at the house, as she
wondered where the owner was. Fighting to keep from
frowning, she was rewarded as the house's back door
opened. A small, young oriental man held the house's
back door open. Andrea nodded to him, saying "Your
directions were excellent. Didn't have a bit of problem
finding this place, but you were right - it's definitely in
the country. There's not another house for at least a
mile. I love it's solitude."
The man politely smiled as he looked at his watch.
Seven minutes past the scheduled time. This was the
person that his grandfather told him to expect - the
host. Smiling at her, he started his sales pitch to rent
the house to her "The house belongs to my grandfather
and he doesn't like to see it sit empty. While I was
waiting for you, I called him. He told me to cut the rent
in half for the first six months and take it off the
market."
She looked at the two-story farmhouse, pleased with
its rural setting and county charm. It was a house that
had been built years before all the houses were built
from the same blueprints. Staring at the little back
porch, with its wooden screen door and freezer sitting
on the porch, she knew that it was the type of remote
country place that she had been looking for.
"I can easily afford the rent, so money's not an issue.
I'm looking for a place to live for a year while I prepare
for my next art show, where I don't have to worry
about neighbors butting in or being sociable. I really
don't care what the inside looks like, now that I see it's
location. I'll rent your house and accept your reduced
rent."
******
The guard sitting at the monitor station, stared at the
silent monitor, knowing that his co-worker was
explaining the mandatory rules to the visitor, knowing
that the visitor knew the rules as well as either of
them. Augustus's expensive lawyer visited at least
once a week even though they were on the last appeal
processes available that would be officially turned
down soon, ending his long stay on Death Row.
The guard zoomed in his camera so that he could look
at the expensive clothes that the lawyer wore, knowing
that the clothes were bought with funds from
defending this thief. The guard sneered as he stared at
the lawyer's expensive double-breasted suit of the
finest cloth, with a beautiful gold silk tie around the
neck of his perfectly white starched shirt. His shoes
were the finest Italian leathers which seemed out of
place in the jail cell.
Pulling his camera back to wide angle, he propped his
feet up on the counter, and watched as the other
guard left the room, then flipped the switch that shut
the door. Staring at the monitor, he watched the
movement of their lips, wondering what they had to
say to each other.
Within the cell, Augustus asked "Well?"
"I can't keep coming here and risk becoming involved
in your nefarious schemes. You've got to get someone
else to do your dirty work."
Augustus hissed "Listen you stupid fucker, I pulled
your ass out of that phony land scandal and taught
you how to make real money. As long as I have proof
that you made over three million dollars that you
haven't reported to the IRS, you're going to work for
me. As a lawyer, you know when the guards are
jerking your chain and how to ensure that they don't
eavesdrop on us, so you're the best man to be my only
contact with the outside world. How's the old man's
ritual coming?"
"Apparently the old man's got his mumbo-jumble
figured out and selected a location. His grandson's
visit to me today, informed me that the must-do clock
starts tomorrow morning and only lasts three nights. If
not started by the third night, it will be eighty-four
days before it can be attempted again, with the next
opportunity being one hundred and forty-two days
after that. I don't think that you'll be around seven
months from now, the way that your appeal is going.
You might even want to consider forgoing the
demonstration and trying the old man's magic this
time. Are you sure that you can sneak the old man's
herbs in here?"
"Yea, my brother's got it all worked out for 25 grand.
I'll have the gook's fucking herbs by breakfast
tomorrow morning. Stuff looks like course ground
pepper and we'll hide it in a pepper shaker that I'm
allowed to keep in my cell."
"John, this is an extremely risky venture that you're
contemplating. It's further compounded by doing it
twice, risking the guards monitoring you very closely
when you start going into the unexplained comas. Why
don't you go first and if you want your friend to escape
also, let him go last. It'll reduce the chance of them
stopping you."
"You fucking asshole. I'm not sure that I really want to
do this. I would prefer to walk out of here a free man -
yeah, a free man, wearing my own clothes, in my own
body. As long as there's one slight chance that my
sentence can be overturned on a technicality, then I'm
going to wait for the jurisprudence solution. When all
other options are turned down, then I put myself into
the old man's hands and his mysterious far eastern
herbs. Where's this place where the exchange will take
place."
"The kid wouldn't tell me. When I asked him, he only
replied that we can't interfere and must stay away
until the exchange was completed."
"Yeah, well, we're going to stay away. Fuck him. I want
someone there to make sure that she doesn't pick up
and run away. I have to make sure that this exchange
works and that it's a permanent exchange. Find out
where this house is and put a couple of trusted men
there to watch out for my interests. Make sure that
they don't interfere unless she tries to run away."
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:35:34 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (02/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:35:34 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 2 - An Understanding between crooks
"...so everything's set up for this ritual. I know that
you've said that you would do it, but now that it's time
to really do it, what are you going to do, Bob?"
Through the bars of their adjoining cells, Bob Williams
whispered back "I'm not like you and there's no chance
for me to get out on a technicality, so I'm going to try
anything - no matter how wild or dangerous it is. I'm
your man."
"Yeah, but soon, you'll be a woman - a woman with a
clean slate -free to do whatever you desire. Does the
sex change bother you?"
"Nah, I wound up in reform school when I was a kid
back in the Bronx - a kid that was much too cute and
small for his own good. As a young kid, I found out the
hard way that a dick up your ass, ain't going to kill
you. After learning to stop resisting their advances, my
life greatly improved when I became the prison
girlfriend of one of the older gang leaders. For over two
years of reform school, I became a woman at night to
serve my man or whomever he wanted to reward with
my young and tight body. Don't get me wrong. My only
choice back then, was to use my body to service men
or die. I did what I had to do to live. If you'd seen me
back then, you'd thought that I was a flaming Homo,
so good did I act the part that they expected from me.
Did I ever tell you about him?"
"No."
"My boyfriend was the primordial, conquering male
stereotype who believe in taking what he wanted. I
tried to resist at first, but it was no use. He played
with me and toyed with me until he was ready to
ravage me. He pulled some strings so we were alone in
the Laundry Room. Before I knew it, his arms were
around my waist, his lips pressed firmly to mine. I
tried to resist, but couldn't as his heavier body held
my body pinned beneath his. I still remember the first
taste of his lips. They felt so rough, not like a woman's
lips at all. After I quit struggling, I knew that I had lost
my virginity when I felt his firm moist tongue penetrate
my lips. I enjoyed his roughness, the feel of his
unshaven face on my neck - and when I felt his hungry
mouth on my nipple, I surrendered, completely
submitting my mind and body to his heated desire.
Later, I became embarrassed when I felt his firm cock
pressing against my naked belly; but I quickly began
to relax and even enjoy the feeling of his balls slapping
against my ass. Afterwards - well there was no further
reason to struggle, and I found the situation to be a
pleasant one. So I obeyed his royal highness and held
my head up as proudly as I could. I kept a big smile on
my face and made sure that I kept him happy."
"Sounds like you didn't have too much of a choice."
"Only being allowed to live versus a quick death. So
today, I don't have to deal with any mental barriers in
my mind about putting on a skirt or doing a blow job
on a cock. I won't be effeminate but I'll be the fucking
slut that every man desires to have in his bed. My
personal preference is that I'm the one eating pussy,
instead of the pussy being me. I can handle a cock
shoved in my face and if I have to metamorphosis
myself into a fucking whore to escape here, then I can
do a very good imitation of a bitch in heat. I just hope
that my new body is a hard-bodied young female with
a halo of fluffy blonde hair and a face like an angel,
with a nice set of tits. What are you going to do, when
it's your turn?"
"Good fucking question. I don't know. I've always led a
- shall I say, celibate life. I preferred the joy of having
life or death power over someone; rather than the
momentary thrust and bump of fucking. While my
cohorts in whatever the venture of the moment was,
were celebrating by spending their hard earned money
on women, I was saving my money, using my money to
buy me expanded power. I had a lot of bimbos that
hung around me because I was Mister Big, that
sucked me off at my desk while my men watched, but I
could take the pussy or leave it. I was rather
disappointed when my initial research into the old
man's magic, revealed that I would have to become a
woman and then the old man confirmed it. That's why
I'm waiting - hoping that I can walk out of here a free
man, instead of having to escape to a life where I have
to flounce my ass around while my boobs jiggle and
men ogle me. If that's the only way that I can get out of
here - then I'll do it. That new body shape and lifestyle
are going to take a little time to get used to, but I'll
adjust eventually. After all, I'll still be a human with
two arms, two legs, a head, the ability to reason and
most of all - I'll be alive. There'll be some slight
changes in taking care of my personal appearance. It'll
just take longer to brush my hair and instead of
shaving my face - well, I'm not really looking forward to
wearing makeup. I've been telling myself that being a
woman isn't that much difference from being a man.
The breasts may get in the way, but I suspect that it'll
be in the bathroom where I notice the most difference
when I have to take a piss. But I'll adjust - just as I've
adjusted to being a prisoner here in this hell hole.
Having sex with a man is probably going to be the
most difficult hurdle to overcome. And that's why .."
He said pausing to look at his cigar as he spun it
around in his fingers.
Putting the cigar back into his mouth, he continued
".I'm probably going to be a lesbian. I'll kill any man
that comes near me, thinking that he's going to fuck
me."
On the other side of the wall, Williams laughed "It's not
that bad. Once your hormones kick in, you'll probably
change your mind. It's not as bad as you think it is.
After all half of the population on earth enjoy it from
that perspective. From a psychology viewpoint, every
person has an inner self and I've heard you let your
inner self out sometimes when we talk, as we're
talking now. Most of the time, you project a strong,
masculine `I don't give a fuck' image but every once in
awhile, you let the real you loose. I've heard your
deeply buried feminine side of your personality speak.
I've heard and understood your intuitive, emotional
side, your `inner woman,' speak to me many times.
There's a soft side of you, a side that desires to expose
it's self to the world - that you've hidden all your life.
When you decided years ago that you were going to be
this super criminal, you tried to suppress your inner
self - causing your feminine emotion to remain in
eternal conflict. John, we've talked to each other about
things that we'd never discussed with anyone else on
earth. I know you and think that you're secretly glad
that it's a woman's body that you're going to inherit. I
think that you were getting tired of your `top of the hill'
daily existence and were looking for a way to get out
when you got caught. I think that you wanted to leave
the big city and go live on a farm, listening to the
ducks quack and knowing that your neighbor isn't
going to shoot you. I think that when you wake up in a
woman's body and discover the freedom that it brings
you, that you'll turn into one hell of a woman - a
woman that can't get enough cock."
Augustus laughed as he replied "I must be getting soft
in my old age. In the old days, I would've shot you for
saying that and all I'm doing is sitting here on my ass
on the cold concrete floor, with my back leaned against
the bars, nodding my head in agreement with your
different points. I've given it some serious thinking and
have concluded that when I do become a woman, I
won't be one of those silly, effeminate, giggling sluts.
There's no way that I'll step daintily out of a car, then
walk with the quickest and tiniest mincing little steps
down the sidewalk. One of my men's wife used to piss
me off with her exuberance and exaggerated motions. I
can still see her, lifting her hands up to both sides of
her face, her face all aglow with a wide open face of
wonder or mock alarm as she exclaimed in her loud
and shrill voice. I fucked her once. Didn't want to but I
had to show her that she belonged to me. Pissed her
husband off, but he soon forgot about it. No, if I'm
going to be a woman, I'm not going to be a silly nilly."
"Have you ever had sex with a man?" asked Williams
with a smile on his face, knowing that just asking the
question would be considered an insult.
"When I was younger, I did an all-night train on a
prostitute with one of my friends. She was his woman
and I started in her mouth and then we swapped
around. She was using her hands to jack us both off
and she pulled us together so that she could rub our
cockheads against each other's cock. We both got off
three or four times. That's the closest that I've ever
been to another man's cock." Replied Augustus after
several seconds.
"Yeah, but how about sex with a man. Tell me the
truth - Dead Man Walking to another Dead Man
Walking truth which the purest truth possible. I know
that you've not had sex - except with yourself - since
you wound up on Death Row. But did you have sex
while you were in the common prison during your
trial? That's someplace where it's very easy to get
buggered or to allow yourself to cross over that
imaginary line. After all if the hole's tight and
lubricated, it provides the same relief to your cock."
"I had a small army of incarcerated felons protecting
me. I've cause a lot of people to die over the years and
there were several people that wanted to silence me; so
I needed protection. Jamie, who headed up my jail-
house guards, brought me a small man one night who
sucked me off twice. Aside from that, I've never let a
man touch me."
Williams voice changed to a low whisper "Who do you
think about when you masturbate at night? Have you
day-dreamed about getting it on with a man? Maybe
getting in on with your old buddy - me - or maybe even
one of the guards. Mahoney's got a nice tight ass and
I'll bet he's also got a big cock tucked between his
legs."
There was no answer for ten seconds then Augustus
responded "I don't like this. I'm going to take a nap."
Williams laughed "Did I get you all aroused, old man?"
"NO! SHUT THE FUCK UP." As a clanking sound
indicated something metallic - a coffee cup? - was
hurled across the small cell.
"I still love you and I'll be waiting for you outside -
thanks to your generosity for letting me participate in
your escape and for letting me go first. I'll be your
lesbian lover and I'll teach you how to suck a cock. Not
only will I teach you about sex, but I'll teach you how
to be a woman - how to wear a bra can be a very
complex learning experience. I'll show you how to be a
sexpot - we'll go to bars and pick up men. I can see
you now as a bar girl with a slit skirt sitting on a stool,
your lips all painted and drooling as you look at the
bulge in a cowboy's jeans. If you want to be more
passive, I'll dress you as a barbarian slave with a dog
collar around your neck - I can see you now, down on
your knees, wanting and needing the touch of your
master as he stands above you with his whip."
There was a hissing, angry sound to John's voice as he
angrily responded "Do you know why I'm letting you go
first, when my execution is so close? It's because
you're the one fucking bastard that I can talk to. My
brother's helping me on this, knowing that I'll be in his
power forever and very helpless. I need someone that I
can trust and talk to. You're an asshole and I think
that you'll fuck up a wet dream - but you understand
me. You're right about a lot of things. I want out of my
gangster life and I want a new life. I want to fall in love,
get married and have a family. I would prefer to be the
male and be in my body but I'll take whatever I can
get. I'll learn to do the woman's work while he does the
guy type things. I'll learn to clean the house, do the
laundry and make dinner while he keeps my grass cut,
takes out the trash every week, and spends our
weekends watching sports on television. I'll be a
woman, but I won't be a slut or babe. I'll be a lady -- a
lady of obvious grace and dignity as I raise my family.
Yeah, you're right. I do masturbate and occasionally
think about men, wishing that I really was a woman.
But most of my masturbation's are about women."
"Been there - done that also."
"I've been lonely all my life. More alone than it is here
in this ten by twelve foot cell. When I was king of the
mountain and had anything that I wanted, I was very
lonely. I wasn't shy but women made themselves easily
available for me just because of who I was. I really
wanted to go find someone that didn't know me and
see if I could have a real date - to take her out for a
nice dinner, a little dancing and a lot of friendly
talking. I'm looking at this as a chance to correct the
things that I did wrong. To live my life as someone
else."
The sound of boots approaching, stopped their
discussion. The boots stopped outside Williams cell.
Augustus didn't turn his head, knowing the distinctive
sound of each guard's different stride; recognizing
Officer Mahoney's walk. He leaned back against the
bars, his cigar sticking obscenely out of his mouth as
he listened to the guard talking to Williams.
"Your lawyer wishes to visit you tomorrow. Any
objections?"
"No, I need a good laugh so let him come on in."
After the guard walked away, Williams said softly "Did
you ever notice how firm Mahoney's butt is?"
After five seconds of reflection on his answer,
Augustus responded simply "Yes."
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:35:47 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (03/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:35:47 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 3 - Andrea - Day One
Putting her newspaper down, Andrea ran her hands
through her long dark hair that hung freely down her
shoulder blades. She was sitting on the front porch
swing that overlooked the farmland acres that
surrounded the farm. She was dressed in only her silk
pajamas as she enjoyed the morning air and the
silence of the countryside. On the floor beside the
swing, were yesterday's newspaper and the coffee pot.
She had been here at the farm for a week now and had
quickly adjusted to her solitude.
Every morning, she would arise at 7 a.m., turn the
coffee pot on, use the bathroom, fix some toast and
then sit on the porch, drinking her coffee while she
read the previous day's local newspaper that she
collected from the mailbox during the previous day's
afternoon hour-long walk. It was the typical small-
town newspaper that was full of the local gossip and
only a little national news, which suited her purposes.
After the leisurely breakfast, she would shower, put on
her jeans and sweatshirt, turn the stereo on with its
stack of CDs loaded into the jukebox, and adjourn to
the living room. She didn't use it as a living room, but
as a studio for her paintings. Against one wall were
thirty some canvasses of artwork in different phases of
completion. Every morning, she would pick a different
canvas and work on it until two p.m.; when she would
fix a light lunch, then change clothes into a jogging
outfit, complete with a baseball cap to hide her hair
and sunglasses. Then she would go for a leisurely walk
through the country dirt roads for an hour; picking up
the newspaper on her return. She had loaded the
dining room with exercise equipment so she spent the
next hour working out; followed by a leisurely bath. A
small snack for dinner and then two more hours
working on her artwork, before she retired to her
bedroom, to read a portion of one of the sixty plus
books that she had purchased in anticipation of her
new reclusive live.
She intended to live a hermit's life for the year that she
planned to be at the old farmhouse. Her expensive
clothes were carefully packed away and she had
purchased a new wardrobe of blue jeans and casual
sweatshirts - clothes that none of her friends would
ever believe that she would be caught dead in, much
less wear. Her normally perfect styled and tightly
pinned hair was allowed to hang free, controlled only
by a rubber band forming a ponytail or her baseball
cap when she was out walking. She was here to paint
and to relax.
******
Two guards pushed a cart down the corridor, stopping
at each occupied cell only long enough to slide a food
tray through a narrow slot at the base of the cell's
bars. John Augustus stared at his covered tray,
knowing what was supposed to be on his tray, worried
that it wasn't. He sat on his bunk, listening to the
guards drop their tray's off to the six occupants of the
prison's death row. When the guards finished their
delivery rounds, John picked up his tray and placed it
on his small table. Removing the lid, his face lit up
with a big grin as he saw that the normal clear salt
and pepper shakers had been added to his breakfast
tray. While it was normal for the items to be on each
prisoner's tray, it wasn't normal for the shakers to
have their tops reversed. So that the salt shaker had a
top where the punched holes were in the shape of the
letter P and the pepper shaker's holes were in the
shape of the letter S.
He quickly swapped the caps on his shakers, then
picked up the set of salt and pepper shakers that he
was allowed to keep in his cell, to flavor his snacks
that he was allowed. Exchanging his shakers with the
new shakers, he walked to the corner of his cell that
adjoined prisoner 14879's cell.
Whispering loudly, he said "You see it?"
A couple of seconds later, a hushed whisper from the
other cell replied "Yeah. I'll add it to my dinner."
John Augustus returned to his small table and started
eating his breakfast, thinking about how enjoyable
tomorrow's breakfast should be.
******
The book was titled "Nomadic Paintings - A Wanderer's
Odyssey through the Sahara". Sticking out of the top
of the book were several yellow stickie notes, where
she had marked the pages that she was interested in.
She was wearing her pajamas, and was propped up
with several pillows so that she could study the book's
glossy photographs of the crude art, seeking details or
procedures that she could include in her own art.
Beside her on the nightstand, was a glass of freshly
squeezed juice. She liked to sip on fresh juice as she
read her bedtime books.
It had taken her a full day to decorate her new
bedroom, turning it into the feminine retreat that she
liked. Her bed covers and curtains had matching frills
and flounces, and matched the pastel color that she
had painted the room her first day in the farmhouse.
Topping off the carefully planned frilly bedroom, was
the scent of the sweet, spicy potpourri that she used to
add that special little fresh smell. For her new
bedroom, she had looked for a bed with a canopy,
finally giving up when she realized that the ceiling was
too low for the type of canopy that she wanted. Beside
her bed was a stack of romance novels that she
planned to alternate with her work books.
******
The cell lights were turned out, but the cell's interior
was dimly illuminated by the corridor's night light,
used by the guards during their sleep time hourly
rounds. John was in his bed, listening to the faint
sounds of the very quiet Death Row, hearing the very
faint sounds of someone's loud snoring.
Bob had already consumed a small portion of the
herbs with his supper meal. John and Bob had talked
through the bars as they normally did every evening,
being careful to change the subject as the guards
made their rounds every fifteen minutes. While the
potential body exchange would only last for an hour, if
it worked, there were a lot of things that Bob had to do
during his brief periods in the host's body. They had
carefully and thoughtfully worked out the details of
what had to be done, to prepare for John's follow-up
exchange.
******
In the dark room, Andrea's eyes suddenly opened as a
light gasp escaped her lips. For five seconds, she didn't
move as her eyes adjusted to the dark and she made
sure that she was awake. Rolling over under the
covers, she searched for a nightstand, feeling the hard
wooden top with her hand; searching the nightstand
top until she found the bedside light's base. Her hand
probed the light until she discovered the on-off switch.
Switching the light on, brightened the room, hurting
her eyes that were used to the darkness. Shutting her
eyes and then peering through the slightly slit eyes,
she stared at the bedroom, observing that she was
alone in the very feminine bedroom.
A roguish, weird, exuberant smile formed on her face
as she sat up in the bed, her long dark hair hanging
down over her face. With a quick jerking move, she
cupped her breasts, finding the abundant evidence of
female breasts on her chest. Then still cupping her
breasts, she fell back on her pillow, a loud maniacal
laugh emitting from her lips.
******
"Psssssssstt. Psssssstt. John" Came the husky
whisper through the fog of sleep. John opened his
eyes, recognizing that he had fallen asleep.
Throwing the light blanket off himself, he fumbled as
he walked over to the cell corner, his body still
drugged with sleep. Pressing his face against the bar,
he responded in a whisper "I'm here."
"The fucking shit worked. I woke up in a cunt's body -
some wanta-be artist named Bell. I went through her
pocketbook and found her driver's license. She's from
Utah, but it sure don't look like Utah outside the
house."
"Good. Do you know how long you were in her body?"
"Nah, I got so excited with being outta jail - being free,
that I forgot to do what we planned. Tell you how
excited I was, as soon as I realized it wasn't a fucking
dream and I was really in someone else's body, I peed
in the bed. Didn't mean to do it, but my bladder just -
well, I peed."
"What does she look like?"
"Beautiful. She's tall and skinny, but she's one
attractive dame. I didn't find any pictures of her all
fixed up, but looking at her face in the mirror, she
looks like she can be a beautiful woman when she's
fixed up. She's got a closet of expensive clothes so she
must have money. I didn't see any evidence of any
boyfriend."
"Does she appear healthy and viable for our project?"
"Yeah. She got a nice set of knockers. I pulled the
pajama top off and looked at her naked boobs in the
mirror. I've always been a breast man, and having my
own mammaries was heavenly. The nipples were
tremendously sensitive - I just had to pinch, roll and
suck them. I discovered that my lips could reach them
if I worked at it. And she's got a nice, thick mound of
dark, curly pubic hair. If I woke up in bed with her, I'd
fuck her."
"Did you call my brother and identify yourself?"
"Naw, I got so involved in checking her body out that
time slipped away from me. Haa,ha,ha,ha." He
laughed.
"What's so fucking funny?"
"I stuck my finger up my cunt - just to see what it felt
like - while I was in the bathroom and - she ain't no
virgin, but she's got one tight pussy. It was the
weirdest thing to be looking in the mirror and seeing
this naked bitch finger fuck herself and to know that it
was really me."
"You stupid asshole, I told you to save that personal
exploring for when you had more time. You were
supposed to call my brother and tell him how to find
you."
"No one's going to find her. She's out in the fucking
boonies. They had cows outside the house. I looked
inside her purse, but there ain't nothing in there with
that address on it."
"Did you see any mail - a newspaper, by chance?"
"No mail, but there were some newspapers stacked up
downstairs in the living room. She's a fucking artist.
One of those landscape painters. Wonder if she's got a
lot of money?"
"You have to find out where she is and call my brother.
Then he'll arrange to be outside the following night.
After you prove to him that he watching the correct
body, he'll make sure that she doesn't leave until that
body is permanently your body. No fucking around
tonight - do what you're told. Understand!!!" he
commanded in an angry hiss.
"Yeah, ok, I hear you. I'm going do it - I just got all
caught up with being out of jail for the first time in
three years and in a woman's body."
"Understand, but the purpose of having a plan is so
that we both know what to do during the limited time
that you're in her body. Did you put her body back in
bed and clean up the mess that you made?"
There was a long silence and then Bob replied "Yes."
"You fucking liar. Don't lie to me or I'll find some way
to kick your ass. What did you do?"
"I was playing with myself in the bathroom - then next
thing I know, I'm back here in my body. So I guess
that I left her naked body in the bathroom."
"You fucking moron" he yelled, not caring who heard
him. The sound of John cussing Bob loudly, attracted
the attention of the guard. John was cussing loudly as
the guard walked down to his cell.
"It's after hours. Do you want to lose your exercise
room privileges for tomorrow?" the guard asked,
shining his flashlight through the bars.
The guard observed an angry John Augustus sitting in
the corner of his cell, mumbling to himself. Highlighted
by the guard's flashlight, the prisoner bit his lip before
he responded "Sorry. I had a nightmare and walked in
my sleep."
"Go back to bed or I'll write you up. I don't care who
you think you're or how much money you have. I'm
someone that you can't bribe." The guard declared,
resting his hand on his Mace can, hoping that he
would be given the opportunity to use it on this
particular prisoner.
John reached into his pocket, found a cigar, put the
un-lit cigar in his mouth, and looked at the guard's
face. A cruel smile formed around the un-lit cigar
hanging from his mouth as he softly said "Why, Officer
Mahoney. I didn't recognize you. It's been awhile since
we've had the opportunity to chat. Tell me, did you
ever find out who killed your dog and hung it on your
clothesline? You must live in a trailer park where some
pretty unsavory characters live."
"SHUT UP AND COMPLY WITH MY ORDERS." The
guard angrily declared as he grasped his mace,
resisting the strong impulse to spray the asshole who
he thought had ordered his dog's killing, to revenge the
time that his exercise privileges had been revoked for a
week.
Another guard's voice echoed down the hallway
"Officer Mahoney, any problems?"
"No" responded Augustus in a loud voice that he knew
would reach the other guard's ears. "Officer Mahoney
was kind enough to inquire about my health. I had a
small nightmare and did some sleepwalking, but
everything's ok now. Good night."
He stood, looking at the young, muscular guard,
knowing that he would never survive a fight with him.
But that's why he was in prison - because he had
other means to battle people, ways that involved
money and guns. The young guard hadn't taken the
hint with his dog, so stronger methods would be
applied to get him on Augustus' team.
Lying back down on his bed, Augustus listened to the
sound of the guard's steel-toed boots clicking on the
corridor floor as he returned to his office. Taking a
deep breath to concentrate on his immediate problem,
John thought about what he was going to have to do,
to bring Bob back into line - to coerce him to comply
with their plans, but not make an enemy. John still
had the cigar in his mouth, enjoying the taste of the
tobacco, wishing that he could light it, but knowing
that if he did during this non-smoking time, he would
lose his smoking privileges again.
******
It was still dark outside, but a slightly shivering
Andrea Bell was sitting on her porch, sipping her
coffee, trying to recover her composure. She had
experienced the weirdest nightmare - so bad that she
sleepwalked, undressed herself and obviously played
with herself. She woke up to discover that she was
lying naked on the cold tiled floor of her bathroom, her
body flushed as if she had been exercising - and most
mysteriously of all, her finger was coated with her jism
- and her vagina - her dripping and swollen vagina was
obviously stimulated.
Walking down the hall to her bedroom, she observed
that all of the lights in the house were turned on.
Going through the rooms turning off the lights one at a
time, she discovered that the front door was standing
wide open and the door unchained - a chain that could
only be removed from the inside.
She rushed back to the kitchen, hurriedly opening a
drawer, seeking a long, sharp knife to use as a
weapon. Carrying her knife, she re-traced her steps
through the whole house, checking it to make sure
that she was alone. When she finished her search in
her bedroom, she noticed that her bedsheet was
soaking wet. Examining the spot, she smelled the
strong scent of urine - her bed and brand new
mattress had recently been peed on.
That's why she was sitting in the dark on the porch.
She was dressed in her pajamas and robe, but beside
her coffee cup was the knife that she still carried
around.
******
John sat patiently at his table, waiting for the guards
to bring Bob back from his turn in the exercise yard.
When he was back in his cell, it was normal for the
prisoners to talk to each other through their cells.
Hearing the clank of the outside door opening, he
pretended to read his bible. After the four guards
escorted the handcuffed Bob Williams to his cell and
secured him in his cell, they spent a few minutes
preparing the prisoner a few cells further away, then
escorted that other prisoner outside to the exercise
yard.
As soon as the door clanked behind them, John
pressed his face against the cell bars "Bob, I'm sorry
that I got mad at you this morning. Neither one of us
understood the different emotions and feelings of what
it's like to be free and in a different body - especially in
a female body. We can modify our plans so that you
contact my brother on your fourth night - that'll be
soon enough. That'll give you four hours to explore
your new body, look around the house and then call
him."
"Yeah, that'll work. I don't know what came over me
last night. I intended to pick up the phone and call but
when I saw that naked pussy reflected in the mirror, I
just had to play with it. I ain't had any pussy in over
three years and it was calling me. Daring me to touch
it - to finger myself. As soon as I touched my little slit,
I lost all control and couldn't help myself. I was still
aroused when I woke up back in my real body. Did you
hear me last night when you and Mahoney were
arguing?"
"No, I didn't hear nothing."
"Well, I did it - I couldn't help myself. I was hearing
you two argue and all I could think about, was the
delicious taste and wonderful feel of that woman's
pussy - my new pussy. It was a very tight pussy so I
know that she doesn't have a steady boyfriend. I put
my finger in it, enjoying the feel of my long slender
finger snaking deep inside my dry cunt. Within a few
seconds of stroking myself, I was feeling the most
wonderful feeling as my body lubricated itself for my
finger. I couldn't help myself and tasted the juice that
now coated my finger - it was truly the nectar of the
gods. While I sucked my finger clean, my other hand
was ramming deep inside me - then I swapped fingers.
I was jerking myself off - then the next thing I knew, I
was lying in my cell. Sitting on the floor, talking to
you, my cock got awful hard as I remembered what it
felt like. Then the guard heard us. While Officer
Mahoney was playing the big man with you, I was
using the time by sitting on the floor, silently pounding
my pud, thinking about her pussy. Then after he went
back to his desk, I pumped my cum through the bars
onto the corridor floor."
John shook his head, biting his tongue to keep from
expressing his anger. Then through clinched teeth, he
mumbled "Yeah, I've done the same thing."
******
Andrea wasn't following her normal routine. She was
still slightly upset but now that it was broad daylight,
her nighttime terror had subsided somewhat. She had
checked all of her windows, ensuring that they were
locked and that the house didn't have any secret
entrances that she didn't know about. She even
checked the attic.
After she had satisfied herself that there was no way
that anyone could enter the house without breaking a
window or kicking the door of the hinges, she stripped
her bed sheets, throwing all of her bed clothes into the
washing machine, as she aired out her brand new
mattress, trying to get rid of the fresh urine smell.
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:36:00 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (04/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:36:00 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 4 - Andrea - Day Two through Four
She had awaken about four a.m. and felt strange.
Stirring slightly, she felt a slight twinge of discomfort
between her thighs. Turning on the nightstand light,
she smelled a familiar odor. It was her own body smell
- the strong smell of sex. Holding her hand in front of
her face, she smelled the strong residue of her
sometimes musky vagina on her fingers. Flexing her
legs slightly, she felt a slight tenderness within her
genitalia that she recognized as being caused by rough
masturbation.
Sitting up in her bed, she recognized another
indication - her breasts were extremely tender and her
nipples were still turgid, sticking out from being
manipulated.
Laughing out loud, she had proclaimed to herself "Not
only am I sleepwalking, but I'm masturbating myself.
Andrea Bell, it's a good thing that your mother's not
here to see you doing this foolish and childish school
girl self-mutilation."
Throwing the covers off herself, she walked to the
bathroom to wash the smell from her fingers. As she
soaped her hands, she glanced in the mirror, seeing
something that scared her. Her lips were thickly
coated with lipstick. She hadn't put any lipstick on
since the day that she moved in over a week ago. And
she would never wear it that thick. How had her lips
got coated with lipstick?
Feeling her legs grow rubbery, she sat down on the
commode, her mind panicking as she tried to reason
how she could have put lipstick on. Jumping to her
feet, she jerked the medicine cabinet open, staring at
the tube of lipstick she kept there. For thirty seconds,
she just stared at it, knowing it was the shade that
was on her lips. Not only had she masturbated herself
in her sleep, but she had also walked down to the
bathroom and put lipstick on her lips.
Feeling a strong need to cleanse herself, she locked the
bathroom door and jumped into the shower, washing
herself as she stared through the foggy, misty, shower
glass, at the bathroom door. During her whole shower,
she didn't take her eyes off the bathroom door - afraid
that some monster would burst in any second.
******
The sound of someone groaning woke Augustus up.
For a few seconds, he was slightly lost until he realized
that he was in his cell. He could hear the sounds of
someone's bedsprings squeaking as they masturbated
themselves and some heavy breathing. Because it was
so loud in the quiet corridor, it could only come from
one place - the next cell where Bob Williams lived.
Rolling over and covering his head with his pillow,
John tried to drown out the sounds of his friend's
masturbation, recognizing that the man must have
just returned from being in her body. This time, he
had two hours to explore her body. John mumbled
something under his breath, as he wished that he
really knew what Bob was doing - was he leaving
everything in place so that the woman wasn't aware
that her body was being invaded every night for an
increasing number of hours?
******
All of the house's interior and exterior lights were on.
Andrea was sitting at the kitchen table, not at her
usual spot, but so that her back was in a corner. On
the table in front of her, was a large pot of fresh,
strong coffee. She was wearing only her pajamas and
some running shoes; her wet hair was frizzed up where
she hadn't taken the time to dry or brush it.
After drying off from her shower, she had picked up
her pajamas and realized that there were no panties in
the pajamas that she had hurriedly pulled from her
body. She distinctly remembered leaving her panties
on as she dressed for bed the previous night.
Somehow, she had taken her pajama bottoms off,
removed her panties, walked to the bathroom, put
lipstick on her lips, and then masturbated herself
before putting her pajama's bottom back on and going
back to sleep. She had found her panties on the floor
on the other side of her bed.
******
"Boobs feel funny when they jiggle. I don't see how a
woman walks around all day with their tit's flopping
up and down. Just a few minutes of it last night and I
was very aroused."
"You didn't do anything that would make her
suspicious, did you?"
"Nah. I undressed her body and looked at it again in
the mirror, checking out her titties and pussy. She's
got a nice ass on her but she's beginning to get some
of those funny looking skin marks on her butt - what
do you call it - cellulite? Don't get me wrong - it's a hell
of a nice body that you'd have to be crazy to turn
down. I've been know to dip my wand in some pretty
ugly pussies after getting drunk. She doesn't fit that
category - I guess that you can describe her as a classy
woman. I remember staring at my new image as I
brushed my hair, watching all that beautiful long hair
cascading over my shoulders in the mirror. Her
breasts are masterpieces, soft, proud, and delicious
enough to get the Pope horny."
"Good. Well, you have to be careful to not do anything
to make her suspicious that something is occurring to
her during her sleep. It would be difficult to complete
the exchange if she was the slightest aware that
anything is happening to her."
"You can depend on me. I'm behaving myself. Hey, I
found out the name of the town. One of those stacked-
up newspapers, had the name of the town. A little
place call Berryville Virginia. Did you ever hear of it?"
"No, but by tomorrow morning, I'll have someone
nearby in a hotel. Here's what you need to do tonight."
******
Andrea walked into the town's only drugstore. It was a
combination drugstore, hardware store, and coffee
shop. Sitting at the coffee counter were several of the
old men that had no where to go and used this as the
social center of their daily life. She was wearing blue
jeans, running shoes, an oversized sweatsuit,
sunglasses, and a baseball cap pulled down so that
her face could barely be seen.
She ignored their glances, knowing that they would
talk about her as soon as she was out of hearing. She
found the aisle with the over-counter sleep remedies
and stared at her limited choice. Selecting two of the
boxes that she was familiar with, through the mass
advertising campaigns, she quickly walked to the
store's only cash register, which was beside the coffee
counter. She placed her purchase on the counter and
waited while the clerk rang it up.
One of the old men sitting at the counter asked "You
wouldn't be that woman who's rented the Jarvison
place, would you be?"
"I don't know the name Jarvison. I'm renting a house
near here." She replied, wishing that the clerk would
hurry.
"Big, white, two story house out in the country, just
past the river bridge?"
"Yes, that's it."
"Know it quite well. I'm Ralph Emerson and I live two
houses past you on the right. Feel free to stop by and
meet the missus. We've lived here all of our lives and
would be glad to have you and your husband come by
for dinner."
"I'm not married." She said, picking up her change,
smiling a nervous smile at the old man, and walking
out of the store quickly before he could ask any more
questions.
******
Andrea was sitting at the table, crying.
The previous night, she had taken a strong dose of her
sleep medication and gone to bed, drifting off to sleep
finally. She woke up and discovered that her body
pajamas were coated with sweat. Sitting up in her bed,
she saw that it was five a.m. She held her hand up to
her face and smelled the smell that she was afraid that
she would smell - her jism. She had masturbated
again in her sleep. Wandering in a daze down to the
kitchen, she fixed a strong pot of coffee, still feeling
slightly drowsy from the medicine that she had taken
at bedtime.
Then she noticed it. Her purse was on the table and it
looked as if someone had been prowling through it.
Grabbing her knife from the kitchen drawer, she
noticed that there were two empty glasses and a coffee
cup in the sink. When she had gone to bed, she had
put one glass and the coffee cup in the sink.
******
"Hi, I hope that you don't mind my dropping by
unexpected but I didn't know your phone number and
I need some advice." Said a slightly embarrassed
Andrea as she stood on the front porch, staring at
Ralph Emerson. After several preoccupied early
morning hours of sitting in her kitchen, she had finally
decided that she needed to talk to someone. She had
put some make-up on, but still only wore her casual
clothes and a baseball cap.
"When I retired, I didn't want to hear the sound of a
phone jingling from one of those dab-blamed tele-
whatachamacallits. So we've got an unlisted number.
If anyone calls during meal time now, we know them.
Martha, we have company." Declared the old man as
he held the door open for her.
Andrea entered the house as Mrs. Emerson came into
the living room, carrying a tray with some coffee cups
and a pot of coffee. Her husband said "Martha, you
remember me telling you last night that I met our new
neighbor but I didn't get her name."
"It's Bell. Andrea Bell."
"Pleased to meet you. This is a small community but
it's a friendly one. Where are you from originally?"
"Utah, but I've been in New York for the last six
months, working on a project. I'm a artist and I rented
the house so that I could be alone to work on my
current project. Are you familiar with the house that
I'm living in?"
"Well, yes. Used to be the Jarvison place until the kids
grew up and moved away. When old mister Jarvison
died last year, the kids moved their mother to their
new home and sold the place. I haven't been in it,
since the funeral, but I know it quite well." Declared
the husband as he sat down on the couch.
As Mrs. Emerson poured the coffee, Andrea said "I
don't know how to say this but is that house
haunted?"
"Haunted? Ha, ha, ha, I wish. We could use some
excitement around here." The man laughed.
Seeing the worried look on his guest's face, he realized
that her question had been a serious inquiry.
Changing his tone to a more serious tone, he
continued "That's a third generation house. Herman
Jarvison's grandfather built that house and cleared
the woods. Then he passed it down to his parents who
eventually passed it to Herman. Herman, his parents
and his grandparents died in that house, but I've never
heard anyone talk about it being haunted. Are you
having some sort of problems?"
"Weird things are happening after I go to sleep. This
morning, I read up on ghosts and wondered if there
could be a poltergeist type phenomenon causing my
problems."
Mrs. Emerson sat down beside Andrea and declared
"There ain't no such thing as ghosts. It has to be
something simple such as some of the local boys
playing tricks on you. What have they been doing -
letting the air out of your tires, moving your patio
chairs?"
"I wish it was something that simple. Someone's been
getting into the house at night while I sleep and
roaming through the house. I don't know how they get
in because I locked the doors, put the chains on the
door and made sure all the windows were fastened."
"You don't say. That don't sound right. This is a
peaceful community and no one around here would do
anything like that. Well, I take it back. Clive's son used
to get a little adventurous when he was drinking, but
he's behaved himself for the last four or five years."
Reported the husband as he thought about other
things that could have been related.
"I don't like it Ralph. Why don't you go check her
house out for her?"
******
Andrea watched Ralph's old pickup truck pull out of
the driveway. He had followed her back home and
checked every window and every door for sign of
tampering. He had stomped through the house looking
for trap doors and had found nothing. Before he left,
he wrote his phone number down on a pad and told
her to call him if anything happened - or if she needed
him.
Mrs. Emerson had insisted that Andrea stay with them
until they found whatever was causing her problem,
but Andrea had politely refused; feeling embarrassed
at their attention, yet happy that she had someone
that she could talk to. She insisted that she wasn't
scared, although she was lying.
She stared at her paintings, not really feeling like
burying herself in her work. Walking out on the front
porch, she looked at the small flower bed next to the
porch. It was overgrown with weeds and hadn't been
taken care of this year. Feeling like some good physical
work would clear the cobwebs from her mind, she
decided to clean out the flower-bed. Going around
back to the small shed, she found some tools and
spent the rest of the morning weeding the flower-bed
and making it presentable.
******
"It's a little town about sixty miles west of Washington
DC and it's only about one hundred and twenty miles
from this prison. It's a typical small town that's getting
ready to be overtaken by a sprawling population. Do
you know anything else?"
"Her name's Andrea Bell. She's 27 years old, is an
artist, isn't married, has a checking account with four
grand in it, and a savings account with fifty-seven
thousand in it. She likes expensive clothes, drinks a
lot of coffee and doesn't eat enough food to keep her
alive. She's got strange food tastes, with her fridge
being full of stuff that you put in salads and a little
chopped chicken. She doesn't smoke, which really
pissed me off as I searched the house for a butt. She's
one of these healthy, skinny bitches that think they're
too good for most men. And her pussy tastes like Texas
pussy."
"I don't understand. I've never heard that phrase
before."
"Most Texas women are long-legged and wide thighed
so that plenty of air flows over their genitalia - or that's
my theory as to why it tastes different. When I grew up
in the Bronx, all of my local pussy came from short-
legged, Italian women whose mother's bellies were
wider than their father's belly. For the first ten years of
my life after puberty, I thought that all pussy tasted
the same as I fucked my local bitches between jail
terms. Then I found a long-legged Texan bitch, who
taught me that her pussy tasted like honey. Since
then, I've used that woman as a standard to measure
other women. Her pussy juice could be bottled and
sold as nectar of the gods without violating any truth-
in-advertising laws."
"Do you know where the house is yet?"
"No, but I'll find out tonight. I'll have four hours in her
body to explore. I think that I'll slip into her jeans and
drive her car into town. Then I'll know where she
lives."
"Make sure to draw a map so that you get back safely
and on time."
"I'm no fucking jerk. I know what I'm doing."
******
The previous three nights had been rough on her, but
she woke up refreshed and everything appeared to be
the way it was supposed to be. After waking, she had
examined her body and her house, not finding
anything out of place or that she had masturbated
herself. The only difference was that she had a slight
hoarse throat and a funny taste in her mouth, but
aside from that, everything looked normal. Feeling
relived, she fixed a pot of coffee, her toast, and
gathered her newspaper, retiring to the front porch to
relax.
Sitting on the front porch wearing nothing but her
pajamas, she was startled to hear the sound of a
vehicle coming up the driveway. Standing up, she
could see the top of Emerson's pickup truck coming
up her driveway. She ran inside and upstairs to her
bedroom, grabbing a robe. She ran back downstairs
and stepped out on the back porch just as he turned
his engine off.
"Morning. I was on my way to the drug store for
another cup of coffee and thought that I'd check on
you."
"Thanks. Everything's ok this morning. I've got a fresh
pot of coffee on the front porch if you'd like to join me.
I can't cook anything more sophisticated than toast,
but I make a good pot of strong coffee." she replied
with a smile, slightly embarrassed that he was
concerned enough to check on her.
"Naw, if I don't go by the drugstore, everyone will think
that I died in my sleep. After seventy years in this
town, they think that I have to do the same damn
thing every morning. Stop by and see the missus when
you have time."
He started his pickup truck and waved as he turned
his truck around, then drove down the country lane
that was her driveway. She watched him leave, then
walked around the house to the front porch.
As she started up the three steps, she saw something
in the flower bed that she had worked in the previous
day. She bent over and picked up a cigarette butt that
had been casually thrown by someone that was
probably sitting on her porch. A fresh butt, with
lipstick on it that was the lipstick color that she wore.
Looking around the flower bed, she saw three more
cigarette butts.
******
"After you fill out those forms, we'll submit them and
then it's only a ten day waiting period." the clerk
stated in his nasal twang as he stared at the young
woman on the other side of the counter.
"But I need a pistol tonight. Someone's hanging
around my house and I need something to protect
myself."
"Can't help you. There's a ten day waiting period to
buy a handgun, while the sheriff checks to see if you
have a criminal record."
"Is there a waiting period for shotguns?"
"No."
"Then while we're waiting for my handgun permit to be
approved, let me have a shotgun and a box of shells.
I'll need you to show me how to load it.", grumbled
Andrea as she bit her lower lip.
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:36:15 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (05/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:36:15 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 5 - Andrea - Day five through six
She woke up, feeling a pain in her neck. Opening her
eyes, she stared through her windshield, trying to
figure out why she was sleeping in her car. Then the
panic hit her. She had gone to sleep in her bed,
wearing her pajamas and now she was wearing her
jeans and sweatshirt and was in her car. The sun was
coming up, highlighting the sky.
Looking around, she recognized that her car was
parked on the side of a road that she knew was close
to town. An opened pack of cigarettes was lying on the
front passenger seat and there were four cigarette
butts in her ashtray, with her lipstick on the butts.
Jerking the mirror to look at her face, she saw that her
lips were coated with the lipstick - the color that she
used to love, but now hated.
She reached for the cigarette pack, poking herself with
her fingernails. She stared at the long, fire red
fingernails protruding from her hands - she had never
had fingernails this long. Grabbing one, she pulled it
off, wincing in pain as the glued-on fingernail pulled
loose.
Now she knew why her lungs felt slightly weird and
why she had that funny taste in her mouth the
previous morning. Not only was she walking and
masturbating in her sleep, but she was also sleep
driving and smoking. She jumped out of the car and
ran into the field, where she collapsed as she cried.
For several minutes, she lay there sobbing as she tried
to reason why this was happening to her.
Sitting up suddenly, she realized that there had been
no one prowling around her house. It had been her,
only she didn't remember what she had been doing.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks and walked back
to her car. She examined the hood, feeling the warmth,
knowing that the engine had been shut off recently.
Starting her car up, she stared at the pack of
cigarettes and the ashtray that had never seen a butt
before. Ripping the ashtray out of the dash, she flung
it into the field, followed by the pack of cigarettes.
******
"YOU DID WHAT?"
"Listen, all those roads look alike. I dressed and drove
her car into town to see where she lived. I stopped at a
seven-eleven and got a coke, because she's got a fridge
full of juice. It'd been over three years since I had a
coke. On the way back home, I got lost. All those roads
look alike."
"So you pulled over and parked the car as you waited
for your time to expire. Knowing that she would wake
up someplace besides her bed. You fucking idiot. If I
could get my hands on you, I'd choke you to death. I
try to do you a favor and you fuck over me."
"Accident's happen. I was simply following your orders
to discover her address."
"If you fuck this up, I promise you that you won't die
in the electric chamber - because I'm going to find
some way to kill you myself."
******
"Let me carry your purchases out to your car for you. I
only sell one of these video cameras a month and
never sold three of them at once before. What are you
going to do, where you need three separate cameras?"
the drugstore owner asked.
"I'm keeping one for myself and giving the other two
away as gifts. Are you sure that when I plug them into
this switch, they'll turn on automatically when I turn
the electricity on?", Andrea responded hastily, as she
signed the credit card authorization.
"Yes, all you need to do is plug it up the way that I
showed you and then turn the lights on to activate it.
When the lights turn on, the camera's turned on in
record mode and when the light goes off, it stops
recording."
******
It had been a long day. She hid one of the cameras in
her bedroom, aimed so it was pointed at her bed. Then
she hid another camera in the bathroom in the linen
closet so it was aimed at the mirror. Then she hid the
third camera in the kitchen. After it got dark, she
tested each of the cameras, making sure that when
she cut the light on, that the camera worked. Satisfied,
she re-wound all the tapes and prepared for bed.
Instead of reading herself to sleep, she took several of
the sleeping pills and lay down, trying to fall asleep in
the dark room.
******
"Prisoner Williams refuses to respond to my
commands. Request assistance to open his cell and
evaluate his status." proclaimed Officer Mahoney as he
was on his rounds to wake up the inmates.
Augustus sat up in his bed, knowing that the guards
would start watching Williams closer as his repeating
comas became longer and longer. Williams had just
spent six hours in her body and had eighteen days to
go before it would be over. He sat up on his bed and
watched at another guard joined Mahoney and also
attempted to get Williams to comply with their verbal
commands. Two other guards joined the guards but
before they opened his cell, there was a sound from
William's cell.
"Hey, can't a man sleep in once in a while without the
whole fucking National Guard being notified." He
grumbled loudly.
As the other three guards walked back to their posts,
Officer Mahoney declared "Prisoner Williams, it's my
duty to remind you that you must obey all orders of
the guards. Failure to obey an order is punishable by
removing your privileges. Do you understand your
responsibility?"
"Yeah, now why don't you go get fucked." Mumbled
Williams.
Mahoney proceeded on down the row, knowing that
the other inmates were already awake, because most
of them were watching through their cell. As he walked
by Augustus's cell, John said "Have you got a new dog
yet? If not, I have some friends that can deliver a dog
to you. What type would you like?"
Mahoney ignored him and returned to his post. As
soon as Mahoney was out of the corridor, John
whispered "What happened?"
"Nothing. I got dressed, drove to that little one-horse
town and used the telephone at the service station to
call the number you gave me and repeated the
directions on how to get to the house. Then I drove
back and sat on the front porch, waiting for the sun to
come up. She's got a body that gets cold easily - a little
more meat on her body would make her look better
and be warmer."
"Did you see any signs that anything was wrong?"
"Naw, she's a fucking stupid bitch that only worries
about her fucking artwork. As soon as I'm permanently
in control of her body, I'm going to trash most of that
shit that she calls art."
******
She started with the camera that had been in the
bedroom. She pulled a chair up beside the VCR
connected to the bedroom TV. She stared at the TV as
the screen filled with a picture of her bedroom, from
the perspective of a top shelf in the closet. She
watched as her video body stretched and sat up in
bed. Then her video body swung the covers off the bed
and walked straight toward the closet where the
camera was hidden, staring at something below the
camera. For a moment, her video body was out of
camera range and then came back into range as she
opened a pack of cigarettes and stuck one in her video
mouth, lighting it with a match. Apparently there had
been some cigarettes hidden within the closet. Her
video back was turned to the camera but she tilted her
head as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. She put the
cigarette pack and matches on the nightstand as she
undressed, dropping the pajamas on the bed. She
opened a drawer and removed a pair of jeans, pulling
them on. With the cigarette still hanging from her
mouth, she walked over to the dirty clothes hamper
and removed the sweatshirt that Andrea had worn the
previous day, pulling it on over her body. She sat down
in a chair and put her tennis shoes on.
While Andrea was watching herself, for some reason
she felt as if she was watching a complete stranger.
Her video body's posture had changed, the cigarette
dangled constantly from her video mouth and Andrea
remembered none of those actions.
Still looking at her image on the video, she watched
herself stand up and pick up the cigarettes. Then her
filmed image walked out of the room, turning off the
light and stopping the video recorder.
Turning the first video off, Andrea switched on the
second video which had been hidden in the bathroom.
As the tape started, it showed an image of Andrea
standing in front of the mirror, staring at herself.
Andrea watched her taped image open the medicine
cabinet and select the lipstick. The video image pursed
her lips and applied the lipstick, then put the lipstick
back into the cabinet.
The video image smiled at her mirrored image as she
said out loudly "Andrea Bell, you're one attractive,
fucking bitch. Bob Williams is a hell of a lucky man to
be given your body." Her video image brushed her hair
back and slapped a baseball cap on, turning out the
light and video recorder.
Andrea rewound the tape and listened to herself again,
not believing the words coming from her mouth. Who
the hell was Bob Williams?
Stopping the tape, Andrea put the third tape from the
kitchen into the player, watching as her video body
grabbed a slice of cheese from the fridge, picked up
Andrea's purse, car keys and walked toward the door.
When her video image got to the door and turned off
the lights, the video image stopped.
Andrea stopped the recorder and clinched her fist as
she thought about what she had just seen. Jumping to
her feet, she ran to the kitchen and grabbed her car
keys. She ran outside and opened her car door,
checking the odometer. Her car had been driven
twenty seven miles since she parked it yesterday. It
was six miles to town, so her car had been driven
fifteen miles more than a round trip to town.
Stunned by what she had seen so far and unable to
comprehend what was happening to her, she walked
in a daze around the house. She found the expected
cigarette butts in her flower bed where her body had
apparently sat and smoked on the porch.
Going back in the house, Andrea turned on the third
video, knowing that her body had to come back in
sooner or later through that door. After thirty seconds
of blank screen, Andrea was rewarded with a video
image of her body walking back into house. Her body
placed her purse on the table and stared at it for a
moment, before adjusting the purse so it was
approximately how Andrea had originally left it. Then
her video image turned off the light. Andrea fast
forwarded through several minutes of blank tape,
recognizing that her body hadn't came back through
the kitchen.
She put the bathroom tape on again and speed
forwarded through it, finding only a short film where
her body wiped her lips, removing the lipstick,
brushed her teeth and gargled with mouthwash to
attempt to cover up the tobacco. Then the screen went
blank and stayed blank.
Andrea grabbed the tape from the bedroom and
forwarded it until she saw her body sitting in the chair
undressing. When she was completely undressed, her
video body folded up her jeans and put them back into
the drawer and put the sweatshirt back into the dirty
clothes hamper. Then Andrea's video image walked
straight toward the camera again, going out of range
as she hid her cigarettes within the closet. Then her
image sat down on the bed and began cupping her
naked breasts, stroking and kneading them and
watching her nipples slowly become erect from the
playing. The video image moved one hand down to her
groin, pressing into the curly hairs, and stroking there
also. She parted her legs, lifting one leg. Then, she
reached between her legs and rubbed her fingers
against her clitoris in a slow, circular motion.
As Andrea watched herself on the video, she felt
terrified as she watched what looked like her, but
convinced that there was no way that it could really be
her. Her video image was displaying an
uncharacteristic animalistic behavior as she played
with herself. While the real Andrea frequently
masturbated herself, she had always done it in a
reserved manner, propping herself up on some pillows,
sipping a glass of wine, lightly stroking herself,
enjoying the sensuous feel of the gentle pleasures of
her slow hand. The only time that she hurried herself
was the last thirty seconds as the orgasm's fire roared
through her body.
This video image was a animal that couldn't get
enough and liked it rough. From the first touch to the
last, it was one rough and fast masturbation that
startled Andrea but at the same time held her glued to
the television as she watched her video image ravaged
her body - ravaged the way that a horny man would.
Not the way that a woman would.
As one hand roughly squeezed and nipped at her
nipples, the other hand was probing within her vagina.
Her fingers were squeezing the turgid nipples between
the thumbs and forefingers of her and squeezing the
nubbins in a manner that obviously was painful. Her
video image's mouth was gapping open and she was
grunting out loud as she repeatedly called out "fuck"
or "suck", in a husky voice with her longest phrase
being "Fuck me, baby! Give it to me! I need your cock!
Oh, it feels so good!"
The video image was pumping herself in a frenzy,
plunging her fingers in and out of her vagina with
complete abandon. She grunted, she groaned, she
moaned, she bucked her ass, groaning as she gasped
for breaths.
The video image had two fingers deep inside the lips of
her vagina now, her thumb rubbing her clitoris with a
jerking motion as she thrust in and out of her very wet
passage. Then the video image's legs started shaking
and quivering as the obvious onset of an orgasm
roared through her naked body. She gazed across the
room in a dazed look - not seeing anything but just
staring, then dropped her eyes to stare at her jerking
hand.
She cried out "I'm coming! I'm coming! YESSSSS" as
she came, her eyes closed, her wrist still vibrating as
fast as she could move it. The video image's body
began to jerk and thrash, her head flailing from side to
side as the rest of her body wildly twitched.
Sweat was dripping from Andrea's face as she watched
her video image shake from the orgasm and then the
video image collapsed on the pillow, gasping for
breath. Andrea recognized that her own breathing was
almost as ragged as the video image's breathing. She
continued watching as her video image lay on the bed
for two or three minutes, a totally satisfied smile on
her face, the rest of her body still twitching as the last
vestiges of her orgasm subsided.
Stupefied by what she had just witnessed her own
body doing, she kept watching as her video image
finally recovered somewhat and sat up, licking the jism
from her fingers. The video image stood up and picked
up the pajamas, putting them back on. Then the video
image lay back down on the bed and turned off the
light.
For several seconds, Andrea just stared at the now
blank television screen. She fast forwarded it, seeking
more images, but found none. Reversing the tape, she
backed it up to where her video image undressed and
began masturbating. This time, as she watched it, she
tried to keep from becoming involved in the sex and to
watch it with an objective eye, trying to find some clue
as to what was happening to her.
After watching it for a third time, she had a strong
urge to undress and masturbate herself. She fought
the urge to caress her breasts or to touch herself
between her thighs.
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:36:26 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (06/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:36:26 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 6 - Andrea - Day Seven through Nine
It had been a long morning for John. Officer Mahoney
had been unable to wake up Williams. Nor had any of
the officers that went into his cell. A doctor had been
called and examined Williams. As they loaded him on a
gurney to transport him to the prison medical
facilities, he woke up. They transported him anyway so
that they could observe him.
After lunch, four guards escorted Williams back to his
cell. After the guards left, John whispered "What
happened?"
"Nothing. They poked me and probed me but didn't
find anything wrong, so they send me back here."
"How about at the house?"
"I met your man and he followed me back to the
house. He's bringing in some assistance and they're
going to start watching the house."
"Good. My lawyer's coming tomorrow and I don't think
that he's going to have any good news for me."
*****
She had never experienced any doubts about her
personal psychological limitations before, but now that
she was suffering from this traumatic loss of memory
and dual personality, she knew it was time to seek
professional help. After waking up to find other
evidence that she hadn't slept all night, she decided
that she couldn't live with that feeling of terror
anymore.
Andrea was dressed in her normal city clothes. She
had spent the morning on the phone with her doctor
and the doctor had come up with a diagnosis over the
phone - she had a hidden personality that assumed
control of her body. Startled by his diagnosis, but
accepting it because it seemed more plausible then her
poltergeist explanation, she accepted his proposal to
arrange for a local specialist in Washington to examine
her. She drove to the specialist and told him about her
supposedly memory lapses and how another
personality assumed control of her body. He listened
to her and then prescribed some drugs whose main
benefit would be to relax her and to help her sleep.
She got mad and screamed at him, but he didn't
change his mind - just re-scheduled her for another
appointment.
Driving back to her house, she felt very frustrated. She
had explained to her doctor what was occurring and
he thought it was some sort of new schizophrenia that
she was experiencing - another personality taking
control of her body.
Stopping at the local drugstore to get her medication
filled, she stared at the rows of cigarettes, wondering
why she started smoking as much as she hated to be
around smokers.
"The missus has fixed a big roast beef for tonight.
There's always room for one more around our table if
you'd like to join us."
Startled by someone talking to her, she jumped before
she recognized Ralph Emerson. Laughing to cover up
her embarrassment, she said "I'm sorry. I was so
wrapped up thinking that I didn't hear you. Maybe
some other night."
He nodded and started walking away when she said
"Wait, I'm not thinking correctly today. You've been
very supportive and I don't want to hurt your feelings.
I was just trying to remember how to get to the motel
where I plan to spend the night. I can't go back to my
house any more."
"Well, sorry to hear that you feel that way. Why don't
you come join us for supper anyway and then spend
the night with us. My daughter's old bedroom has a
comfortable bed and in the morning, I can help you do
whatever you need to do at the house."
She paused momentary before responding "That
sounds good. I need to talk to someone. If you don't
mind, I'll accept your invitation."
She followed his truck, going by the turnoff that would
take her to her driveway, not realizing that there was a
car parked down the lane, waiting for her to come
back.
At the Emerson's, she helped Mrs. Emerson by making
the salad while the elder woman finished the gravy.
Sitting around the table with the friendly couple,
Andrea felt a little embarrassed about what was
happening with her and decided to keep her troubles
to herself, not wishing to end the couple's jovial mood
at having some company. After dinner, Ralph offered
her a shot of whisky, but she declined because she
didn't drink alcohol. Sitting around their coffee table
talking small talk, she didn't feel like opening up - not
even when Ralph hinted that she had promised to talk
to them.
Mrs. Emerson escorted her up to their daughter's room
- a daughter who had grown up and moved away with
her husband. Sitting on the bed after saying good-
night to her hosts, Andrea felt very tired and worn out.
It had been a long day and there was so much
happening to her that she didn't understand. Lying
back against the pillow, she relaxed for a moment,
knowing that she had to get up and undress.
******
Ralph Emerson was sitting at the kitchen table,
working a crossword puzzle. He had one of his
frequent bouts of insomnia and had retreated to the
kitchen, so he wouldn't keep his wife awake. He was
staring at the puzzle and trying to figure out what an
eleven letter word with the clue "Female Impersonator"
and a mixture of already filled-in letters "t_ansve_t_te"
could be. Scratching his head, he mumbled "must be
one of those things that only a city slicker can solve."
Startled by a noise behind him, he turned, observing
Andrea standing in the doorway behind him. Her hair
was all messed up and her clothes wrinkled as if she
had slept in them.
"Where am I?" she asked.
Pointing at the freshly brewed pot of coffee, he said "In
my kitchen. Seems I'm not the only one that can't
sleep. Coffee?"
"No, but I'll take a shot of your whisky." She stepped
forward and picked up the bottle of whisky that he had
been drinking from, earlier in the evening.
"Help yourself. Glasses are in the cabinet."
She picked up the bottle, selected a small glass and
poured herself an amount that Ralph estimated to be
at least two jiggers. Raising the glass to her lips, she
tilted her head and emptied the glass in one quick tilt
of her wrist. Setting the glass down hard on the
cabinet as she spread her feet to brace herself, she
groaned "that's some good shit. I can already feel the
burn in my stomach."
"I like it and have bought that brand all my life.
Thought you didn't drink."
She turned and smiled at him. While she had smiled
at him many times before, her smile seemed different
now - almost as if she was laughing at him. Then she
replied "It's been awhile since I've had anything to
drink, Pops. At least three years. Now, where am I?
How do I get back to my house?"
"You turn right when you get to the end of my
driveway and you live on the second driveway to the
left. Sure you don't want to go back upstairs and
spend the rest of the night?"
"Nah, I need to get home and get out of these
pantyhose. Thanks for the whisky, Pops." She said as
she picked up her purse.
He watched her as she walked out to her car - slightly
unsteady in her high heels although Ralph thought it
was too soon for the alcohol to affect her functioning.
It seemed weird to watch someone wearing clothes that
were so professional appearing but to be wearing them
as haphazardly as she was wearing them tonight. It
was like she was drunk but he knew that she wasn't.
After she unlocked the car door, she looked up, finding
him standing in the doorway, watching her. She
pursed her lips and made a kissing motion with her
lips to him, then got into her car. After she pulled out
of the driveway, he turned around to find his wife
watching him.
"Why did she leave?" she asked.
"I don't know. But she sure was acting funny - almost
as if she was someone else. Remember when she told
us the other day that she was originally from Utah and
you winked at me? Well, you know I've got a gift for
accents and had already guessed either Utah or
Colorado as being the state that she grew up in. But
the woman that just now left our house now has a
Bronx accent."
******
"Why haven't you been watching the house. She
almost escaped." An angry Andrea shouted out her car
windows at the two men standing beside their car.
"We were told to play it cool and to allow her to do
whatever she wanted. We don't know when it's her or
you, so we've been waiting at the motel for your
instructions."
"Follow me up to the house."
******
Officer Mahoney looked at his watch, being slightly
unhappy because his shift was only half over. He
hadn't slept any during the day because someone had
broken into his trailer during his previous shift and
placed a live and quite angry large rattlesnake in a
tied-up pillowcase in the middle of his coffee-table.
He'd spent the complete day gently probing and
searching every inch of his trailer, not finding any
other deadly surprises. The police had investigated,
but they had been useless - only interested in filing the
report and moving on.
He looked at the keyring lying on his desk, knowing
how easy it would be to open Augustus cell and bust
him up a little. Augustus had been behind this, being
the only one that had the resources to find his
residence and to harass him on a regular basis.
Pushing the keyring to the far corner of the desk, he
ignored his strong desire to whip the shit out of the
criminal, smiling that it wouldn't be too much longer
until he had the privilege of escorting the asshole on
his last walk - the walk to the Execution Room. As
soon as this last appeal was denied, then John
Augustus would become what they called a Dead Man
Walking.
******
Several empty beer cans were on the kitchen table.
Andrea's high heels were kicked off and she was sitting
in a slouched, un-lady-like position with her legs
spread as she sipped her beer. Across the table from
her, where two of the five guards that had been sent to
help her. Her words were beginning to be slightly
slurred as the accumulated effect of the whisky and
beer impacted her much lighter body.
"So that's it. Everyday, I'm in control of this body for
one additional hour. Now that she's scared and trying
to make a run for it, you've got to keep her here until I
take over again."
The two men looked at each other before one asked
"How do we know when it's you or her?"
"I've been taking over sometime during the middle of
the night. So until I fall asleep this morning - it's me.
Otherwise, it's her. We'll use a password - use
Mahoney until I can think of something better, so that
you can see which one of us, you're dealing with."
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:36:37 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (07/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:36:37 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 7 - Candice's Intro
The curtains were blowing lightly as the ocean breeze
blew into their hotel room, bringing with the breeze,
the recognizable smell of the Hawaiian beach - the
smell of ocean salt in the air. The sound of the surf
crashing could be heard faintly on the beach six
stories below. The room was lit by the moonlight
coming in through the open patio door.
The man was sleeping soundly, but the woman was
wide awake. While he snored, she lay on her back,
feeling her naked nipples, enjoying the feel of her
hands teasing her nipples as the warm salt air lightly
caressed the rest of her body.
Rolling over and curling up around the man's body so
that his ass was touching her pubic hair, her fingers
slowly encircled his cock, feeling it's warmth and
heavy feel. She gently squeezed it and slowly started
stroking it, listening to the change in his breathing.
After a minute of gentle stroking his flaccid cock, she
was rewarded by the cock's hardening and lengthening
so that it became a stiff rod, a rod coated with velvet,
in her hand. His breathing had changed - becoming
slightly ragged but still deep as his sleeping mind
dreamed of being fucked.
Pleased with his body's reaction to her hand-delivered
suggestions, she propped her body up on her elbow so
that it was easy to hold her face next to his ear. She
began blowing gently on his ear as she moved her face
closer to his ear, knowing that he enjoyed the feel of
her warm breath on his ears. She opened her mouth,
continuing her blowing, and gently placed her lips
around his ear, creating a warm spot on his ear. She
was rewarded with a noticeable increased hardness in
the shaft that she was gently stroking. Her warm and
slightly wet tongue probed gently, finding his ear lobe.
As her tongue glided into his ear channel, he groaned
lightly in his sleep. Smiling at his reaction to her
teasing, she pulled her lips away, knowing that the
relative coolness of the air on his wet ear was
something that he enjoyed. True to her guess, he
shivered as he came out of his sleep.
"I had the most wonderful dream. Your sister was
sucking my cock."
Grinning at his attempt to harass her, "Does that
mean that you don't want to fuck this beautiful
creature who's in bed with you? The woman that wears
your ring and now has your last name?" she whispered
to him and kissed him gently on his closed mouth.
"Before we got married, we fucked. Now, it's called
making love. What have you done to my cock,
Candice?"
Still slowly stroking the cock in her hand, she
responded with a quick kiss on his ear and whispered
"We're married now, so it's legally half my cock. I can
do anything that I want to. Don't you like what I'm
doing to my half, Mickey?"
Mickey smiled broadly enjoying the teasing. "Don't
stop if you know what's good for you."
She nibbled on his ear as she whispered "Why should
we let a good hard-on be wasted?"
Candice released his cock and rolled over on her back,
spreading her legs, enjoying the feel of the warm
breeze blowing across her golden pussy hair. Mickey
rolled over so that he was facing her, a wild glint
reflected in his eye as he stared at the luscious body
next to him. Her long, thick blonde hair framed her
beautiful face perfectly on the pillow. He smiled as he
realized how lucky he was to be married to such a
striking woman with a full, incredibly sexy figure.
Wanting to make love to her as much as she wanted
him, he placed his hand on the soft underside of her
breast, cupping the firm but jelly-like breast with its
wonderful nipples.
"What are you going to do, big boy? Do you know how
to satisfy a real woman?" she asked softly, her voice
getting husky as her nearest hand wrapped around his
cock, gently squeezing it.
Mickey's forefinger casually outlined the woman's
puffy areola, watching it react to his teasing as she
squeezed his cock harder. She closed her eyes and
raised one leg, feeling that familiar wetness fill her
aching cunt. She ran her tongue lightly over her lips,
feeling her nipples react to her husband's light touch
to her nipple, recognizing that her breathing was
becoming deeper.
His finger touched her rigid nipple, rubbing around
her areola in slow, tender circles feeling her hand
squeeze his cock harder. She bit her upper lip then
whispered "God gave women two tits. My other boob
feels left out."
"But I like this one," he teased.
Her silent response was to roughly squeeze his cock,
resulting in a sudden groan from Mickey. In response,
he threw his leg over her legs and shifted position so
that he was in a push-up position over her prone body,
his heavier weight resting on his knees and elbows,
pinning her to the bed as his cock rubbed against her
golden mound.
They kissed, mixing their soft lips and letting each
other's warm tongue probe their mouths. His hands
cupped each of her breasts as he squeezed and
kneaded her warm, resilient flesh. Her long and thick
nipples pointed upwards and darkened as they
became turgid, in response to his fingers.
His tongue filled her mouth, but she was groaning
deep in her throat, letting him know what she liked as
his fingers tweaked her nipples and his hard cock
rubbed against her throbbing mound.
Pulling his tongue from her sucking mouth, he scooted
down her body to where he could kiss and suck her tit,
enjoying the way that she responded as his lips teased
her sensitive tit. Her hands wrapped around his head,
her fingernails digging into his scalp as she guided his
head - her fingernails digging deeply as his lips
encircled her nipple and sucked it firmly between his
lips, while his fingers continued to knead and squeeze
her other tit in upward milking motions. The smell of
her musky body filled the room, increasing his desire
for her.
Her hips began a gentle humping as he teased her by
swirling his tongue around her rigid nipple, sucking
and licking it slowly, unhurriedly - knowing that she
was primed for him and wanted his cock. He ignored
her gentle suggestion, knowing that she was enjoying
his tonguing action as much as he was. He alternated
sucking on her turgid nipple, switching breasts after a
few minutes and sucking on the other. As he sucked,
his kneading and sucking became rougher, his oral
actions rewarded by her fingernails digging into his
shoulders, goading him on.
He shifted his weight from her body so that her lower
body was open to his finger's probing. She moaned
loudly as his thick fingers parted her golden pubic hair
and slid between her delicate folds. As his lips leap-
frogged from one nipple to the other, his fingers
stroked her slit with the same masturbatory rhythms
that she was using on his cock. His fingers glistened,
coated with her heady honey.
As soon as his finger touched her clit, she stiffened,
her body arched as she pushed her golden mound up
to meet his fingers and her legs locked together. For
about five seconds, she held that position as her body
quivered.
As suddenly as it started, she relaxed, falling back
down to the bed, her body coated with a light patina of
sweat.
She gasped "Fuck me! FUCK ME!" her words rising in
pitch and volume as she commanded him to take her.
Sitting up on his knees, he grabbed her lighter body
and spun her over on her belly, then pulled her hips
up into a kneeling position. She spread her legs,
arching her back as she lowered her face to the pillow,
rubbing her ass against his cock as she offered her
firm, rounded ass to him. He reached around as he
bent over her, feeling her drenched pussy and rubbed
her vagina lips.
With his other hand, he rubbed his throbbing cock
against the crack of her firm ass, bringing it down to
where it lined up with her eager, waiting pussy. He
stroked it against her soft skin, enjoying the feel of his
cock head rubbing against her matted pussy hair.
With a groan, Candice's hand shot up between her
legs, grabbing his cock as she guided it into the hot,
wet, swollen folds of her excited pussy.
"Fuck this foreplay shit. FUCK ME." she screamed in a
high pitched voice, not caring if anyone else heard her.
Holding her hips, he positioned his throbbing
cockhead against her waiting hole and plunged his
steel-hard cock into her in one, swift, and violent
thrust of his hips. A weird sound escaped from
Candice's lips - it started as a scream but turned into
a high pitch moan.
Pleased with her reaction, he pulled out and rammed
her again, trying to go deeper, not caring if it hurt her
or not. Holding her hips, he repeatedly pulled out and
repeatedly rammed his cock deep into her, the sound
of his grunts rising in volume to match her pleasure
groans and gasps. Bending over her, he grabbed a
handful of her hanging down tits, squeezing and
kneading her boobs as he continued fucking her doggy
style - his heavy balls slapping against her thighs, her
gushing pussy juice dripping down his balls.
Suddenly he tensed as he felt his balls tighten - the
warning sign that he was going to cum. He rammed
faster into Candice, as her ass wiggled and bucked
against his hard, fast thrusts. His cock repeatedly
plunged deep into her pussy with each violent thrust
of his hips, his balls swinging and slapping against her
thighs.
Candice responded by increasing the volume of her
gasping and groaning. Hearing her own screams so
loudly echoing around the hotel room, she buried her
face into the pillow, muffling her screams; knowing
that she couldn't control either the volume or the
intensity of her passion. Her elbows were buried in the
pillow, her hanging down breasts were jiggling in all
directions at once as her upper body reacted to the
force and intensity of the cock ramming into her
hungry cunt.
The room was full of the animal-like sounds of their
lovemaking - the merged gasps and grunts, the loud
cries, soft whimpers and panting as they fought to re-
fill their lungs with oxygen; as their uninhibited bodies
lustfully entwined in their lovemaking.
Groaning, he grabbed her body, plunging into her
pussy with all his strength, ramming as deep as he
could and then holding his cock there, feeling it pulse
with excitement within her velvet lined sheath.
Candice recognized his signal and pushed back,
meeting his thrust, welcoming him to fill her with his
cum - feeling her own orgasm so close that she knew
that they would occur together. His entire body
stiffened as his balls erupted, his cum exploding
through his tightly constricted shaft. The frantic pace
of his previous ramming stopped as his whole body
and mind concentrated upon only one thing - letting
his cum pump into her pussy.
The first stream of jism exploded into her - releasing
her own orgasm. Her vagina muscles clinched tightly
around his cock, milking him, urging him to release all
of his cum inside her. For over a minute, they held
each other tightly, while his cock repeatedly convulsed
as it shot salvo after salvo of hot cum deep into her
hungry pussy.
While he was holding her so that his cock was buried
deep within her, she suddenly stiffened, then her body
began shaking and shuddering uncontrollably. She
had been relatively quiet during the sex, but now she
was screaming at the top of her lungs as she came.
Her lungs screaming and gasping as she fought for
oxygen. Just as suddenly as she started screaming,
she stopped as she collapsed onto the bed, pulling his
cock out of her pussy. Rolling over on his back, he
stared at the ceiling as he tried to get his breathing
back to normal.
Raising his head to stare at her sweat covered body, he
stared at her golden mound of pussy hair that was
now matted and glistening with their mixed body
fluids. Her chest was still rapidly rising and falling
from her deep breathing.
He said "Wonder what the hotel manager's going to say
this time. He already politely warned us twice that we
were too loud when we made love. I hope he doesn't
throw us out of here. This is a nice hotel with a pretty
view of the ocean."
"I'm sorry. I just get so carried away that I can't
concentrate on being quiet." She whispered, in those
sexy whispers that only lovers share after a night of
sex.
"Well, we've been asked to leave better hotels, so it
won't be the first time - and I hope that it's not the last
hotel where we're asked to leave."
"What are we going to do, when our honeymoon is over
and we go back to the states?" she asked as she
cuddled next to him, running her fingers through his
sweat-coated chest hairs.
"I've got about two months left on my current contract,
then I would like to move. It doesn't matter where we
move to, because I can write my computer book
anywhere. We have to find a house. Can't be just any
old house. It has to be a big house - on a big lot - in
the middle of a field - a big field - with lots of empty
land surrounding it. Then I'm going to fuck you over
and over until you're hoarse from screaming your head
off."
She curled up next to him, whispering "will you rape
me again - and again - and again?"
"You really liked that, didn't you?"
"yessssssss, just thinking about how rough you can
be, gets me turned on again. How would you like to
risk getting thrown out of this hotel before morning?"
she asked bending her head, letting her long, golden
hair trail over his body, as her warm and hungry lips
found his cockhead. As her teeth nipped at his
foreskin, he groaned, knowing that when she was this
aroused, neither of them rested until her sexual
appetite was satisfied.
******
A slightly drugged Andrea staggered down the steps.
Her head hurt, her mouth tasted foul, and she still
had her rumpled clothes on from the previous day.
And worst of all, she was back in her house. The last
thing that she remembered, was lying down on the bed
at the Emerson's house. She walked in a daze to the
kitchen, seeking the relief that a strong pot of coffee
provided.
Entering the kitchen, she jumped as she saw the two
men sitting at her kitchen table, an ashtray full of
cigarette butts on the table. They stared at her as she
asked "Who are you?" hearing the panic in her own
voice."
******
John twirled the cigar in his fingers, staring at it, then
he lit it, knowing that he was violating the smoking
schedule and could lose his smoking privileges for
another week. But he needed to think. For the second
morning in a row, Williams had been carried out by
the prison's medical staff because he was in his coma.
And this was only the ninth day of a twenty-four day
cycle. What would they do when the comas become
longer? Would they move him away from this place
where he would be so far away that the ritual wouldn't
work?
******
"Ralph, why don't you go by and see if that young lady
is all right. I worried about her and her leaving
suddenly all night." Suggested Mrs. Emerson as she
put her husband's lunch on the table.
"I did all ready. On my way to the drugstore this
morning, I stopped off to see her. She came to the
door, still dressed in the same clothes that she had on
last night, her hair was rumpled, a cigarette was
hanging from her mouth and she was clearly
intoxicated. She introduced me to two men that I'd
never seen before, who she said that she had hired to
protect her and thanked me for coming by, then asked
me to mind my own business."
"Goodness sakes. That doesn't sound like her."
"When she gets drunk, she's got a Bronx accent and
talks like a sailor. I'm sorry that we ever got involved
with her. She's not the type of woman that I like to be
around."
******
Andrea's door was unlocked, but she had it shut and a
chair placed against it to slow down anyone that tried
to walk in on her. Her eyes were bloodshot and her
face was swollen from where she had been crying. She
had changed into her jeans and sweatshirt, not
bothering to shower. As long as those strange men
were in her house, she wouldn't risk taking a shower.
One of the men sat in a recliner that they carried
upstairs and put at the top of the stairwell landing.
They allowed her to roam the upper house, which
included the bathroom and escorted her whenever she
needed to go downstairs to the kitchen. They had
found the shotgun that she had hidden behind her
door and removed it. It was very clear that she was
their prisoner.
Her room smelled of old stale cigarette butts. Although
she had flushed an ashtray full of lipstick coated
cigarette butts down the commode, the stinking smell
still lingered on in her room. Someone had lain in her
bed, smoking. The way that her hands smelled, even
after a through scrubbing, indicated that it had been
her who was smoking. Something was seriously wrong
- with her and with those men in her house.
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:36:48 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (08/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:36:48 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 8 - Andrea - Day Ten
"Hi, big boy. Got any beer." Asked a smiling Andrea.
She was only wearing a bra and panties as she stood
in the doorway to her bedroom.
"Password?" asked the guard as he stared at the
woman's boobs and her obvious dark mound of pussy
hair that the panties barely hid.
"Mahoney. Now I've got ten hours tonight and I plan to
enjoy every minute. Did my alter ego take a shower
today?"
"No, she stayed in her room. She wrote a message on a
sheet, using her lipstick and hung it out the window,
but we took that down."
"Little bitch is getting nervous. I hope that she doesn't
get suicidal or do something that hurts this body
before it belongs to me. Well, I'm going to take a
shower and clean up. I hate to say it but I smell like a
ten day old fish. Are you familiar with the phrase
Texas Pussy?"
"No."
Andrea smiled that weird smile that was appearing
more frequently on her face - as if she was laughing at
a private joke, before she responded "Then you've got a
lot to learn and I'm a hell of a good teacher. See you
after my shower, big boy."
******
Andrea slowly stirred as she fought to wake up. Sitting
up, she recognized that she had another tremendous
hangover type headache. As her eyes focused, she
recognized that she was in her bedroom but she was
naked. She had been dressed in her jeans and
sweatshirt when she fell asleep.
Sitting up, she recognized other symptoms that
something had occurred while she slept. Her belly was
tender, her breasts were extremely sensitive, and her
inner thighs hurt. Looking at her naked body, she saw
the tell-tale signs of bruises beginning to form on her
inner thighs. And her pubic hair was all matted with
some dried cum.
She had been fucked while she slept.
Lying back on her pillow, she fought the tears that
couldn't be held back. For several minutes, she cried,
all curled up in a fetal position. Finally, when there
were no more tears left, she sat up and looked at
herself in the mirror.
Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheek was salt-stained
from her tears; which was a marked contract from the
brilliant red of her lips that were coated with fresh
lipstick. Her face showed the confusion that she felt,
then changed to reflect the shock of seeing her image.
Her face had the remains of mascara and lipstick,
which hadn't been there yesterday. Her neck and face
was red and tender as if she had been bearded by a
man. Her tender breasts showed obvious signs of
recent heavy sucking and fondling. Her pubic hair was
matted with dried cum and her thighs were bruised.
Her mouth tasted foul as if she had been smoking and
drinking all night.
And the room smelled of sex, smoke and beer. The
sheets had dried stains that could only be cum. Beside
the bed on the nightstand was an empty beer can and
an ashtray full of cigarette butts. Putting her ear to the
floor, she picked up a thread of muted conversation
that was almost audible.
Pulling a robe on, she opened her bedroom door,
seeing the guard reclined back, watching her, as he
smoked a cigarette.
"Morning, babe. Hope you slept all right?" he asked in
a sarcastic tone.
She ignored him, pulling her robe tighter as she ran
into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She
locked the door and undressed, jumping into the
shower, not waiting until the water warmed up, trying
to wash the filth from her body. As she showered, she
stared through the glass shower door, watching the
bathroom door, afraid that one of them would try to
enter the bathroom.
When she finally felt clean, she dried off and put the
robe back on, discovering a pack of cigarettes in the
robe pocket, which she flushed down the commode,
not caring if she stopped the commode up. Turning
around to the linen closet, she reached up to the top
shelf where she had previously re-hidden the video
camera. She opened it and removed the tape, hiding
the tape in her robe.
Andrea walked past the leering guard, ignoring his
sadistic low wolf whistle and shut her bedroom door,
locking it. She turned on her TV and inserted the tape,
turning the volume down to where she knew that the
guard wouldn't hear the tape. Andrea watched as her
video image stood in front of the bathroom mirror,
brushing the tangles out of her hair, wearing only a
bra and panties as she smoked a cigarette, the
cigarette obscenely hanging from her mouth.
The video image reached behind her and unsnapped
the bra, letting it drop to the floor. For a moment, she
stood in front of the mirror, rubbing her breasts,
working the bra marks out as she played with herself.
Stopping her masturbatory act, the video image
stepped out of her panties and turned on the shower.
She watched the water until she was satisfied that the
water had warmed up, then stepped into the shower,
pulling the glass door shut as she turned in circles,
letting the water cover every inch of her skin.
The heat of the water fogged up the glass door, so it
wasn't a clear image, but Andrea could tell what her
video image was doing. The video image started by
rubbing a heavy lather of soap with her back to the
flowing water. She rubbed the soapy palms of her
hands against her breasts, lightly kneading herself
until there were some rock-hard rubbery nubs sticking
out of the bubbles. Then the video image began lifting
and squeezing her boobs in a much rougher, more
vigorous manner. She would shove her breasts
together, then roll them around, using the silky soap
suds as a lubricant. Then, she would violently tug on
the hard nipples trying to stretch them. The video
image mashed, tugged, rolled and played with herself
in an extremely rough manner.
Andrea watching her video image do this to her body,
groaning as she felt the very real tenderness of her
breasts, now recognizing why her breasts were sore
this morning. Over the sound of the water running,
could be heard the video image's grunting as her
breathing became louder and ragged.
The video image leaned against the shower wall,
bracing herself with one arm as the shower flowed over
her out-thrust ass. She slid one hand through her wet
pubic hair, spreading her legs so that her fingers could
easily rub against her thighs. As her finger touched
her genitalia, the video image started groaning loud
enough to be heard over the constant sound of the
shower.
For over a minute, she leaned against the far wall,
playing with herself, then the video image squatted
down with her knees spread wide. Andrea knew that
position would result in her vaginal lips flaring open
slightly and allowing a wider entry for the video
image's fingers.
Andrea stared as her video image squatted in the
shower, her hand moving rapidly between her legs as
she plummeted herself. The video image's other hand
was still roughly tugging on her soapy nipples,
alternating between the two nubs.
Suddenly, the video image's body stiffened, which
Andrea recognized as an orgasm. Her hand speeded up
its stroking and the video image cried out so suddenly
that Andrea almost jumped, afraid that the guard
could've heard the noise. The video image's whole body
began to jerk and thrash, as her head flailed from side
to side. Wildly jerking, she sat down on the shower
floor, letting the water cascade over her as she laid
there, twitching and jerking. She lay under the water
for several minutes, until she slowly staggered to her
feet. Then she picked up the wash cloth and really
washed her body.
Andrea was biting her fingernails as she stared at the
image complete its shower and dry off, in front of the
bathroom mirror. As Andrea watched, one of the
guards stepped into the bathroom, a cigarette hanging
from his lips. He held the cigarette out to the video
image, who accepted it as she brushed her hair. The
guard stepped behind her and cupped her breasts as
he obscenely rubbed his pelvis against the video
image's naked ass.
For almost a minute, Andrea stared at two video
images - the mirrored image of the video image and the
video image. The video image stared into the mirror, a
funny smile on her face as the man's hands squeezed
and tugged on her nipples. Her mirrored image's face
reflected a high degree of animal lust that Andrea had
never seen before on her own face; the cigarette
dangling obscenely from her partially closed, red-
lipsticked mouth. Her mirrored nostrils flaring as her
breathing increased because of the man's simulation
of her body.
Jerking the cigarette from her mouth, the video image
spun around, putting her arms around the man's neck
as she lifted one leg, wrapping it around his hip as she
nibbled on his ear, rubbing her boobs against his
chest. For ten seconds, they squirmed in front of the
bathroom sink, then the man pushed her back onto
the sink as he fumbled with his trousers.
The video image laughed at him, then grabbed his
hand and pulled him, after her, leading him from the
bathroom. Andrea fast-forwarded through the rest of
the tape, discovering that it only contained the
constant scene of the empty bathroom. After several
minutes of fast-forwarding, she saw her image come
back into the bathroom and take another shower. After
she dried off, she put some make-up as the naked
guard walked into the bathroom. Slapping the video
image on the butt, he turned the water on, then
stepped into the shower. After his shower, the rest of
the bathroom tape was blank.
Rewinding the tape, Andrea grabbed the tape from the
camera hidden in the bedroom.
******
Andrea stared at the blank wall, stunned by what she
had just witnessed on the next tape. The bedroom tape
had almost a whole hour of her video image being
fucked by the guard. And worst of all, they had sucked
each other. Andrea almost gagged at the thought of his
dick being in her mouth, his cum residing in her
stomach and still within her vagina. Andrea had
experience doing a sixty-nine on one of her former
lovers, but hadn't really enjoyed it although she liked
the man. To do that obscene act on a complete
stranger was unthinkable. And there were no condoms
used.
She sat on the bed, trying to remember everything that
her video image had said or did. Her video image had
an accent - a New York accent. She had repeatedly
called the guard "Big Boy" and the guard had called
her "Williams". The guards relaxed around her video
image and let her video image roam freely as if they
trusted her video image to remain docile. She knew
that there were two more guards downstairs and they
took turns sitting up here, watching her from the
hallway, waiting on something to occur.
Grabbing a notebook, she looked at the page full of
notes that she had been writing to herself since
discovering that she was a prisoner in her own home.
She crossed out the phrases "multiple personalities",
"schizophrenia", "poltergeist", "fucking crazy", "high
school kids playing games" and circled the phrase
"someone else - some type of temporary body
exchange". Someone else was using her body -
someone that the guards knew as Williams - that was
the only acceptable explanation. She didn't know how
or why, but she wasn't going to sit around while it
continued.
Slamming her balled-up fist into her hand, Andrea
decided that there was only one way that she could get
by the guards.
******
"Hi, big boy!" declared Andrea as she stood in the open
bedroom doorway. But it wasn't the frumpy Andrea
that had declared that she was going to take a nap
earlier to the guard. This Andrea wore makeup and her
hair was brushed. She was wearing only a bra, a
panty, and a garter that held up her hose. And a lit
cigarette dangled from her mouth, the smoke curling
up the side of her face.
It was the same guard that her video image had
allowed to fuck her. The guard sat up, as he stared at
the mostly unclad woman. She smiled, her voice
modified to sound like a New York accent "It's me -
Williams. After her nap, I took over again. Got any beer
downstairs."
"Yeah." he said as she walked toward him, still not
moving from his blocking position.
She stopped, and smiled at him, the smirkish smile
that she had spend the last hour practicing. "Well, big
boy, aren't you go to let a lady by so that she can get a
beer?"
"How do I know it's really you?"
"Mhhhh, so you want proof. Well, let me show you who
I am. That little bitch won't treat you the way that I
treat my men." She exclaimed as she thrust her chest
out by pulling her shoulders back, as she strode
across the floor trying to jiggle and sway in the right
places.
She dropped to her knees and leaned forward so that
her breasts were inches from his knees. Her hands
gently pushed his legs apart as she reached for his belt
buckle, unfastening it in one easy motion as she
stared at his face - her face still smiling. Putting her
cigarette out in his ashtray, she exhaled a mouth full
of smoke at his face, playing the tough girl role.
Looking up at the guard's still suspicious face, she
calmly replied "I know what I like and I didn't get
enough earlier."
Her hand quickly unzipped his trousers and pulled
down his underwear, revealing his flaccid cock. As she
stroked it, she looked up into his eyes, asking "You
know what you want me to do, don't you? You want
me to suck your cock - your big cock, don't you Big
Boy? Well, this little bitch is going to give you a
sucking that you'll never forget."
Her face is eye-to-eye with his manhood and her
mouth moves toward it, opening her mouth, while her
mind wonders if she can go through with this
impersonation of her video image. Fighting back a
feeling of revulsion, Andrea smiled as she stroked his
rapidly hardening phallus, watching his large balls
bounce up and down as she stroked his cock; dreading
the moment that she would have to consummate her
impersonation.
Feeling overwhelmed with the role that she's playing
and wanting to buy some time, Andrea suggested in a
sultry tone "Why don't we go into the bedroom so I've
got more room."
She stood up and walked back in, knowing that the
man would follow her. He hesitated long enough to
kick his shoes off and drop his trousers and shorts.
Striding butt-naked into the bedroom, he lay down on
the bed, spreading his legs which hung over the end of
the bed.
Andrea dropped to her knees again, trying to act as if
it pleasured her to play with his cock. She fondled his
balls and stroked his rapidly hardening dick.
With a gentle pressure, he guided the back of her head
until his cock was pointed at her face. With an almost
hidden grimace, she opened her mouth and used her
tongue to lap the underside of his shaft as he rubbed
his cock over her face. He began moaning softly and
shifted slightly as he lifted his cock up so that his balls
were touching her mouth. He arched his back, lifting
himself from the bed as he rubbed his balls against
her nose and up higher so that his balls rubbed
against her eyes. She had her eyes shut, hating the
view of his body from her perspective. With his hand,
he guided her face so that her face rubbed against his
balls.
Easing back down on the bed, he guided her mouth to
his balls "Suck on my balls," he commanded as he
leaned back and shut his eyes. She opened her mouth
wide, accepting one of his hairy balls into her mouth,
where she sucked gently on it, hating the unwashed
taste of it. She released it, but he mumbled "Both of
them at the same time,".
Holding back the shiver caused by her revulsion at
what she was doing, she stretched her mouth wide,
allowing both of his balls and his ball-sack to enter her
mouth. It took every bit of courage that she could
muster to play with his balls with her tongue, rolling
his balls around her mouth with her tongue; feeling
the core of his manhood fill her mouth.
He began to groan loudly as he mumbled "suck my
balls - yeah, like that" he commanded.
She sucked on his balls, fighting back the strong urge
to bite his balls off. She felt him start jacking his cock
and an image of her hair coated with his cum filled her
with so much repugnance that she pulled away from
his balls.
"Whoa, Williams, I was just beginning to enjoy that,
but I know what you really want." He grinned as his
hand guided the back of her head toward the head of
his cock. Seeing it come at her mouth, she opened her
mouth to accept his hard cock. He pushed his cock
into her mouth, holding her head so that she didn't
have many options.
For just a moment, she considered biting it off and
trying to outrun the other two guards. Recognizing
that she couldn't outrun then, she accepted her
misery, knowing that it wouldn't last long. As he
guided her head back and forth on his shaft so that
her mouth was fucking him; she kept mentally
repeating "This too shall pass."
He shoved his large cock deeper into her throat,
forcing her head tightly into his smelly crotch and
fucked her head as she tried to keep from gagging. The
man didn't notice her obvious displeasure because he
was so involved in fucking her face. His hips were
rocking as his cock fucked her mouth in and out and
in and out and in and out. She wrapped her hand
around the base of his cock and began pumping him
with her hand - hoping it would hurry his release,
pulling the cock out of her throat until only the
cockhead was within her lips. He lay back on the bed
and began moaning louder, leading her to hope that he
was about to cum; dreading the moment that she
would feel his hot cum shoot down her throat;
knowing the rest of his expectations.
Suddenly his body stiffened. He grabbed her head,
holding her firmly as he shoved his cock as deep into
her mouth as he could, not caring that it was gagging
her. She resisted, but he held her for a second, then
released the pressure holding her, allowing her to pull
back until only the cock head was within her mouth.
Tears were streaming down her face as she prepared to
let him fill her mouth with his cum.
Then she felt his hot cum squirt into her mouth. She
pumped his shaft with her hand, wanting to hurry and
end it; hating that she had to pretend that she was
enjoying it as much as the man was. The guard
collapsed back onto the bed and she let his cock slide
from her mouth, almost gagging when she saw the
cobweb type stream of cum stretching from his cock to
her mouth. With a determined effort, she swallowed
the mouthful of cum and stood up, with a smile on her
face.
"Wow, I enjoyed that." She declared, remembering the
fake accent. She picked up her sweatshirt that she
had lain on the dresser and pulled it over her head,
still smiling at the guard. She quickly pulled on her
jeans and started putting on her shoes as the guard
started stirring.
"Where you think that you're going?" he asked.
"Downstairs to get a beer. You want one?" she
suggested, trying to buy time to get away.
"You ain't going no where until you tell me the correct
password."
Realizing that her impersonation depended upon a
password, she recognized that she wouldn't get far. It
was time to switch to Plan B.
She picked up the hair dryer from the dresser and
with one fast swing, broke the hair dresser against the
side of his head. He fell heavily on the bed, the sound
of his fall muffled by the bed. The side of his head had
a big cut and was bleeding.
She tiptoed across the bedroom, opened her bedroom
door and tiptoed down the stairs. At the base of the
stairs, she opened the front door and stepped out onto
the front porch; pleased that the sun had almost gone
down. As soon as she was off the porch, she ran as
fast as she could for the fence. She caught her shirt on
the bobwire fence but didn't let that slow her down.
She jerked on the shirt, ripping it as she jumped over
the fence and ran toward the near-by woods. Just as
she entered the edge of the woods, she heard someone
yell at her. Turning, she saw two of the guards running
from the house toward her. She ran into the dark
woods, trying to put at much distance as she could
between them.
******
She was lying next to a log. Her clothes were coated
with mud and were ripped in several places where she
had fallen or run into something. There were three of
them after her in the small patch of woods and they
had flashlights and walkie talkies. She had discovered
that she had ran in circles and became lost in the
dark. Finding a large log to hide behind, she listened
for the sounds of her pursuers, knowing that she
could slip away once she knew which way would lead
her away from that cursed farmhouse.
She was beginning to feel the cold seeping through her
clothes from the ground, so she sat up, feeling very
worn out - as if her body wasn't getting any rest. As
she stared out into the darkness, searching for the
tell-tale lights of her pursuers, she began feeling the
first tell-tale signs of being drowsy. Determined to
remain awake, she shook her head, feeling slightly
more awake. Thirty seconds later, one eye was shut
and the other was merely a slit. Without realizing it or
being able to resist, she fell asleep.
******
Augustus was pacing his cell, although it was after
lights out and he was supposed to be in his bed. After
the warning for smoking the previous day, he was
risking losing some more privileges other than his
smoking privileges which he lost for a week, but he
didn't care. Williams had been taken to the Prison
Infirmary again but they hadn't released him - this
time they had kept him.
And he felt that they wouldn't let Williams come back
to his cell.
******
"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" she screamed as she
cursed the guard. A dirty and disheveled Andrea had
returned to the farmhouse, finding the injured guard.
When Andrea gave the correct password, the guard
contacted the guards who were still searching. After
Andrea listened to what happened, she blew up,
screaming at the guard.
As the other guards returned to the house, they heard
Andrea screaming and cursing the hapless guard.
Turning to the nearest guard, she ordered "We set up a
system of changing passwords - two different
passwords and they'll change every day. When I'm not
in control of this body, I want it restrained to the bed.
Understand?"
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:36:59 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (09/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:36:59 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 9 - Andrea - Day Sixteen
The guard repeated the standard instructions to
Augustus' lawyer. After the guard left and the door
clank echoed through the room, a manacled Augustus
asked "Well."
"He's still in the Infirmary. They don't want to risk
transferring him to a normal hospital, because they're
able to perform the same medical tests on him here.
He's up to day sixteen so that means that his next
coma will last sixteen hours. The doctors recognizes
that it's increasing by one hour each day but are bum-
fuzzled by why he unfailingly goes into a short-term
coma every day."
"What can be done to ensure that they keep him here,
instead of transferring him somewhere else, where the
magic can't find him?"
"Already taken care of. Using my position as your
lawyer, and arguing that you want to take care of your
penniless friend, I've arranged for a specialist to fly in,
who'll make sure that he stays here."
"Good. What happened to my appeal?"
"As I told you, the review panel will recommend
disapproval of your request for dismissal because of
the technicality. I'm supposed to go to a hearing next
week, where I'll be formally told that it's denied. Then,
you'll be called to a hearing where the verdict will be
read to you, the judge will decree that all of your
appeals have been exhausted and order your
immediate execution. Usual time is thirty days after
the hearing."
"I don't care what you say or do. Buy me some time.
Sixteen days from eighty-four days means that I can't
be executed for at least sixty-eight days. Buy me eighty
to ninety days."
"It'll be expensive. I've got to influence some very
expensive people."
"When you're dead, money doesn't matter. Just do it.
What's going on at the house?"
"The woman found out that something was occurring,
so the guards are having to keep her locked up in her
room until she provides the correct password."
"I knew that she would be curious sooner or later. I'm
surprised that it lasted this long, the way Williams
fucks up everything else. Well, make sure that she's
treated like a lady."
******
Once again Andrea was held prisoner in her bedroom.
How much time passed, she couldn't determine. With
the flood of confusing thoughts passing through her
mind, ten minutes could be ten hours.
She was naked and tied to her bed with cut-up bed
sheets, her arms and legs stretched toward the bed
posts. A second escape attempt hadn't gone off too well
with her captors, particularly since she had been able
to stab one of her guards with a kitchen knife and hit
another one with a coffee pot, breaking the coffee pot
against the side of his head. So they weren't taking
any chances with her anymore.
She refused to look at the wall closest to the bed.
There were seventy to ninety Polaroid pictures taped to
the wall; with every picture showing the other Andrea
doing some slutty or obscene thing.
It had started with one picture taped to the wall,
showing Andrea's alter ego sitting on the downstairs'
couch, wearing clothes that Andrea had never seen
before. The alter ego's legs were spread in a slutty
position to reveal that she wasn't wearing panties. She
was wearing a tube top, her breasts hanging out
against the elastic proving that there was no bra on
also - her nipples pressing bumps into the tight fabric.
The short spandex mini pulled up her long legs which
were encased in red nylons. Her bright red lipstick
coated lips glistened because of the droplets of cum on
her lips and chin. Sitting beside her on the couch was
one of the guards and her hand was wrapped around
his still erect cock that was sticking out of his
unzipped trousers. It was an obvious deduction from
looking at their positions, that the alter ego Andrea
had just finished blowing the man.
When she had seen that picture, Andrea had shrieked
and cried, fighting at her bonds. The guard called for
assistance and they restrained her better while they
laughed at her attempts to free herself. Her struggles
weren't so much to free herself as to rip the offending
photograph from the wall and destroy it.
After laughing at her vain attempts to remove the
photographs, they had filled the wall with photographs
when she awoke from her next sleep. Just as in the
first photograph, which had been framed and hung in
the center of the wall, all photographs showed her
alter ego engaged in some sexual play with the guards
or acting slutty for the camera. There were several
pictures of Andrea's alter ego taking on all five guards
at once, three in her natural cavities and two with her
hands. Then there were several close-ups of Andrea's
face with her lips stretched wide around a big cock.
And there were several pictures of someone's cock
shooting cum onto different parts of her body - her
face, her breasts, up the crack of her ass; you name
the body area and somewhere on the wall, was a
picture showing cum on that body part. While the wall
of photographs upset her, she didn't allow it to destroy
her sanity as she concentrated on freedom and
thinking about her escape.
A guard was now posted in her room, far enough
against the wall where the guard was safe from her
lunges when they allowed her to be free to go to the
bathroom. And this morning, they had found one of
her hidden video cameras and the tapes that she had
made of the phony Andrea having sex with the guard.
To punish her for her escape attempts, the guard
played the video over and over of the other Andrea
fucking the guard.
After several minutes of watching the other guard fuck
Andrea's body, this guard stood up and approached
her, staring at her naked and tied body. He dropped to
his knees beside the bed, leaning his elbows on the
bed as he whispered "You've got such a pretty pussy.
Do you remember me fucking you yesterday? No, well I
did. And you enjoyed it so much that you bragged
about it later to some of the other guys. Would've
taken a picture and showed you what at good time we
had, but we ran out of film. I'll be glad when this is
over so I can trust you to turn you loose all the time.
Then we can fuck some more. You like it when I fuck
you, you like the way my cock fills your pussy. Yeah,
you're a good fuck."
"Turn me loose, you asshole." She grimaced, feeling a
little terror creep through her body as she stared at his
sardonic smile.
His fingertips touched her nipple. She arched her back
and twisted as she tried to escape, but couldn't shake
his fingertips loose as his hands teased her nipple -
and her nipple responded to his touch by becoming
turgid. She struggled to free herself as he ignored her -
using his unrestrained ability to do whatever he
wanted to do to her body. He used his hands and his
lips to expertly tease her and to tantalize her body.
For several minutes, she cursed him, as she struggled
against him as much as possible with the restrains,
but gradually found herself succumbing to his skillful
manipulation of her body. She found her body arching
so that her breasts would meet his lips and her legs
spreading to allow his hand better access to the very
sensitive area between her legs. Her curses changed
from mumbles to groans and gasps as his hands woke
up hidden sensations that she had suppressed for so
long.
While her body gave in to him, her mind continued to
resist. Suddenly, she realized what he had done to her.
She strained against her bonds, knowing that the cut
up sheets were too strong for her to break. She
struggled because she refused to give up - or permit
him to abuse her body. Without warning, she began to
feel drowsy - a signal that she was getting ready to fall
into that sleep - a sleep that lasted an hour more each
day while that other person assumed control of her
body.
She struggled but it was to no avail. She quickly
calmed down, falling into a deep trance-like state
which usually lasted for five minutes before Williams
would assume control of her body.
Just as quickly as she fell asleep, she opened her eyes
and groaned "jail bait and shit on shingles" - the two
passwords that had been worked out for today. The
guard rushed to untie her arms.
******
"I was worried about you and was going to stop by to
see you later today. How are you doing?" asked Ralph
Emerson as Andrea walked into the drugstore.
The dark-haired girl standing in front of him was very
different from the young, professional woman that had
dinner at his house less than a week earlier. That
woman had taken pains to make herself appear
professional and classy.
This woman looked like an over-sexed teenager. Her
dark hair was teased up into a high ponytail. Her ears
were now triple-pierced and held long, dangling pieces
of junk jewelry. Instead of a conservative business
suit, she wore a tight tube top, no bra so that her
boobs bounced and her nipples showed through the
tube top, high heels and a short, tight miniskirt. Her
eyes had too much mascara, making her eyes look too
large. Her lips were coated with a dark lipstick, making
her look like one of those punk rock stars. Dangling
from her lips was a cigarette. Her fingernails had also
changed; becoming almost two inches long, and coated
with a blue fingernail polish with glitter mixed with the
polish. Her neck had bruises, the type of hickey
bruises that kids gave each other. You could smell her
loud and strong perfume from several feet away.
Her posture and attitude had also changed. She'd
become a woman who apparently desired to visually
tease and caress male egos by flaunting her sexuality,
knowing exactly the effect she had on males. Her walk
was a sensual strut, each step intended to
provocatively tease and draw attention to her swaying
ass. The towering heels on her shoes thrust her ass
out.
In other words, she had turned from being a
successful business woman into a slut - or someone
that was filming an adult movie.
Turning to him, she laughed as she smile that weird
Mona Lisa smile as if she was laughing at a personal
joke. Then she pouted her lips as if to throw a little
kiss, before she acknowledged him, her voice trying to
sound as sultry as possible, "It's Pops. How are you
doing, old man? Hey, I want to thank you for looking
out for me; but I don't need your help anymore. I've got
things under control now - thanks to my main man
here and his friends who've been staying at my place
since the other night. This is Big Al - who really knows
how to take care of me." ending her introduction with
a giggle.
To his ear, she sounded like a little kid trying to sound
sexy in an exaggerated manner - or someone that was
trying to hide an accent. The man that she pointed to,
was four inches shorter than her, had a big bandage
on the side of his head and a very obvious hickey
showing through his open shirt collar. For a moment,
Ralph wondered how the small man got the name "Big
Al" then decided it was none of his business.
Before Ralph could say anything else, she declared
"Come along, Al, honey. We've got to do our shopping
and get back home before the football show comes on.
Don't let me forget to get some more film for the
camera. And we're almost out of beer."
"Yes, Andrea. It's been nice to meet you, Mr. Emerson.
Andrea has told me so much about your kindness to
her when she first moved here. Thank you for looking
out for her." The man responded, staring straight at
the older man.
"See you, Pops. Say hello to the little lady for me." The
woman turned and walked away, her ass wiggling
beneath the tight skirt that she wore.
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:37:12 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (10/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:37:12 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 10 - Andrea - Day Twenty-three
When Andrea woke up, she thought that she was
dressed like a cheap, street whore. She looked down at
herself, observing immediately that her boobs and very
visible nipples showed through a tight tube top. She
was wearing a tight mini skirt which allowed her mid-
thigh garters to be easily seen. It was the type of outfit
that she wouldn't even wear to a Halloween party.
She tried to move, but couldn't because she was tied
to a chair. Two guards were standing in the room with
her. She shivered when one of the guards caressed her
bare shoulder.
"You're one very sexy bitch, you know that?" She
strained against her bonds, knowing from the last
several days, that they took no chances with her
escaping again. The struggling caused her to breathe
harder, resulting in her chest rising and falling.
Recognizing that the guard was staring at her heaving
chest, she abandoned her struggle, feeling nervous
about waking up dressed like this. The last few days,
she had awaken in bed, restrained to the bed. One day
when she woke up from her strange sleep, one of the
guards was naked and sleeping in the bed with her -
her body covered with his dried cum. That was when
she had been able to run naked into the kitchen and
grab the kitchen knife. She had managed to stab one
of the guards during the struggle, but it was a minor
wound.
They kept her restricted to her bedroom. The worst
thing was she couldn't stay awake. Each day, she slept
longer and longer.
Seeing that she was behaving herself, one of them
turned on the TV. A taped image of herself wearing the
exact same clothes that she had on at that moment,
smiled at her.
"Hello, Andrea, it's me - the new Andrea." The video
image proclaimed. Andrea stared at the tape, afraid to
watch it, yet drawn to it.
"Just thought that I would say hello and thank you for
providing me with such a nice body. By now, you know
that I'm spending more and more time in your body as
you spend less time awake. Every day, my time
increases by one hour, so today is your last day - or
rather your last hour. So sorry to do this to you, but
I'll miss you and think about you whenever I look into
a mirror. I was getting used to our challenges of
keeping you from damaging our shared body. You're
probably wondering WHY ME? I know I would if our
situations were reversed. It was just a matter of
timing. I needed a body and you happened to be in the
right spot where my new body had to be. So I've slowly
been taking over your body - and your life. I went to
our doctor yesterday and got a copy of our medical
records, so I know our medical history. And I've been
paying our bills -it's been your money but I'm keeping
our credit in good shape. Our mother's been trying to
get in touch with you, but I responded for us. Dear old
mum's very happy now, knowing that her baby's safe.
Well, dear, I hate to do this, but your time is getting
short. I'm going to a party with Al and the other guys,
where I'll toast your - shall I say - recent demise and
my new birthday."
The video image held up a can of beer as if to offer a
toast before continuing "As you can see, I've taken the
liberty of dressing our body and putting the makeup
on it. You can see that I've got different tastes than
you - I like the horny, party-girl slut look and can't
stand the professional, feminist look. I like men to look
at me constantly, so I dress to please them, so I'll wear
tight, seductive outfits that show off my boobs,
rounded hips, pert little ass, and tiny waist. I'm more
comfortable drinking beer than Champaign, wearing
jeans rather than a skirt, fucking a good-old-boy
rather than a yuppie and there's a lot more areas
where you and I are different. So now that it's almost
my body, I'm taking some liberties and changing the
way our body looks. Within the next day or so, I'll have
a nice little tattoo of a small rose on my ass. By the
way, I'm thinking of having some boob surgery done in
the next month or so - making them bigger. And I'm
tired of your dark hair, so I've already arranged for the
color to be changed tomorrow - I've decided that I want
to be a redhead. When I'm finished with our body, even
you won't recognize our body. Looking through your
photo albums, I see a woman hidden behind expensive
clothes and unflattering makeup. I plan to live the rest
of my new body's life as a beautiful young lady. I'm
going to have piles of artfully arranged flaming curls
highlighting my beautiful face with sexy gold loop
earrings dangling from my pierced ears. No glasses will
hide my long dark eyelashes or sweepingly arched
eyebrows. Men will drool over my seductively pouting
pink lips, wanting to kiss me. I'm going to make the
best out of being a woman and live my new life to the
fullest."
Her demeanor changed, becoming stern. When she
spoke again, her voice was coldly unemotional and
hard instead of the teasing tone that she had been
using "It was a very simple decision. I could die in the
electric chair or become you. If there had been any
other way for me to get out, I would've done it. I'm
sorry. Good-by."
******
Her name was Candice but anyone that knew her,
knew not to call her Candy - a nickname that she
hated. A picture of Candice would make a good
advertising photograph for adolescent day dreams and
night time fantasies. She's a young, gorgeous, tanned,
tall, green-eyed blonde, with the type of well-endowed,
slim, curvaceous body with the vital measurements of
38-24-36 proportional figure that guys pant and drool
over. She's about five foot ten, with long blonde hair
that falls about her mid-shoulders. She spent a lot of
time on the tennis courts, jogging, dancing and
swimming, so she was in really great physical shape.
Not only did she have a beautiful and youthful
appearance, but her personality was so vibrant and
alive, that most men found it difficult to keep from
falling in love with her while she was popular with
other women.
She strode through the airport, ignoring the obvious
stares as she worked her way to the luggage pickup
area. Finding her luggage, she tipped a baggage clerk
to collect her luggage and follow her to the rental car
counter.
After fighting the traffic exiting National Airport, she
headed into downtown DC only long enough to find
her way onto Route 66. She drove west from DC for
about sixty miles before finding a motel for the night.
After taking a warm bath to relax her, she sat down
with a local newspaper and started reading the "FOR
RENT" ads.
******
The doctor stared at the thick set of patient records in
front of him. All lab work reports were normal and
there was no reason for the unexplained coma that
lasted less than a day and repeated itself every
following day, increasing by one hour each day. The
doctor had questioned the patient every time that the
patient woke up, but information from the patient
hadn't been helpful. The doctor's personal opinion was
that the patient knew the reason for his mysterious
illness and didn't care if he was dying. At times the
patient had smiled a weird Mona Lisa smirk at him as
if he was laughing at the doctor's efforts to find the
cause for his mysterious disease.
Reading the most recent entry in the patient's records,
the doctor added three last lines before signing his
name "Patient's time of death was 4:15 am. Body
released to patient's private funeral home. Autopsy not
performed per legal documents submitted by the
patient's lawyer and approved by the judge last week "
Laying the records down, he picked up the form that
his secretary had just typed and signed his name,
authorizing the funeral home crew to pick up the body.
Staring at the two attendants, the doctor wondered for
just a moment why a man from the Bronx chose a
funeral home that was owned and staffed by a Chinese
family.
******
John Augustus was sitting on the floor, with his back
to the bars, smoking his cigar. A cleaning crew was
next door, cleaning and sanitizing William's cell. They
had cleaned out his personal possessions already -
something that wasn't done on death row, unless the
inmate died.
His face was aglow as he silently laughed about his
success in freeing his friend. Now that he knew that it
worked, he was ready to attempt it himself.
Hearing the clicking sound of guard boots coming
down the hallway, he turned, observing Officer
Mahoney carrying his clipboard.
"Good morning, Officer Mahoney. So sorry to hear
about Williams. That was quite sudden, wasn't it."
Ignoring Augustus's comments, Mahoney said "Per the
Prison Doctor's request, I'm asking each prisoner if
they have any details or they observed any symptoms
by Prisoner Williams before we transported him to the
prison infirmary. Do you have anything that you wish
me to report?"
"Report? Yes, I wish to report that I miss my music. I
like to listen to New Age music, because it forms
images in my mind of beautiful landscapes, seashores,
and mountains - causing a soothing, peaceful and
happy feeling to relax me. As for Williams, yeah, but
before I talk about him - have you got a girlfriend?"
"What do you wish to report?" he repeated, ignoring
the question.
"A handsome lad like you must have several
girlfriends. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?"
"My personal life is my own business. Now do you have
anything to tell me." the young officer asked, his tone
obviously revealing his seething anger.
Augustus twirled his cigar around his mouth, using
his tongue, before he replied "Too bad that you feel
that way about me. I really like you and think that we
could be great friends under other circumstances.
While you've used your position to take away my few
privileges on a few occasions, you were very
professional and following the rules. Sorry if I let my
temper get the best of me and that I let myself play
some games with you. If I had the opportunity to live
my life differently, I think that we would really get to
know each other better."
The guard folded up his notebook and walked away. As
the clicking of his boots got further away, Augustus
repeated under his breath "Yes, Officer Mahoney, it'll
be nice to fuck with you the way that you fucked with
me. I think that my new alter ego will find a way to
visit you. There are so many more games that I would
like to play with you."
Augustus' imagination developed a daydream image of
Officer Mahoney's sweaty and naked muscular body
tied to a bed and struggling to free himself. Although
there was terror in his eyes, his erect and very hard
cock was sticking straight up from the young man's
struggling body. In the corner of the room, a very
beautiful and sexy naked woman was sharpening a
straight razor, pausing only long enough to flick the
ashes from the cigar that she was smoking.
A smile formed on Augustus's face as he day-dreamed,
following the fantasy that had been on his mind very
often, since he had discovered a means to escape. In
his fantasy, he was a beautiful young woman, enjoying
the pleasures of her body and the freedom of doing
whatever she wanted to do. And an off-duty and very
friendly Officer Mahoney was a frequent visitor to his
day-dreams.
Multiple years of being in prison, being away from the
relief that women provided, and thinking about his
future body exchange into a woman's body, was
beginning to show as Augustus permitted his mind to
drift back to his day-dream.
******
The old man leaned on his cane as he stared at the
body of the dead prisoner in the cheap prison
furnished casket. Turning to one of his near-by
grandsons, he only said "Proceed. We must preserve
the body and have it at the correct spot prior to the 7th
night."
Bowing his head in respect to his grandfather's wishes,
the grandson replied "We will make it occur as you
request. But, most wise one, I don't understand why
you don't want to bury the dead man's body, instead of
transporting it to Virginia."
"Our culture goes back many, many centuries and
there are so many things that we have forgotten as we
turned from our past to be more like the Western
civilization. I won't go into details now, but in that
house, is a spirit - or sprite that is fighting to take
back her body. If she doesn't take it back in seven
nights or less, she will fade away. On the seventh
night, when the sprite is supposed to recognizes that
it's over and to say goodbye to her friends and
relatives; her soul will fade away to where we can
never catch it. Before we lose her completely, we must
try to direct her soul into the body of this dead man.
We will help her claim his body as her own body. She
will awaken in his body, with our help. We'll give her
new body my drugs to help her forget who she used to
be and ship her new body to our homeland where
she'll learn to accept her new body and new role in
life."
******
The house was unlocked and empty. The young man
looked at the mess in the kitchen, remembering how
neat and clean the place had been a little over a month
ago when he had rented the house to Miss Bell. The
kitchen counter was full of empty beer cans and liquor
bottles, the sink full of dirty dishes. Several full
ashtrays mixed their overpowering smell with the
garbage's smell, resulting in a very stinky kitchen
smell.
Walking through the rest of the house, he observed
that it was just as messy - as if a army of pigs had
lived there. Going up the stairs, he stepped around the
recliner in the hallway and opened the bedroom door,
smelling a strong smell of unwashed and very dirty
sheets. The rumpled and cum-stained sheets seemed
so out of place with the frills on the curtain and lace of
the bed. Going back downstairs, he watched as his
family came in to clean up the house. While they
started cleaning, he picked up the telephone and
called the local newspaper.
When a clerk answered, the man said simply "I would
like to place an ad in tomorrow's paper - House for
Rent section."
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:37:26 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (11/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:37:26 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 11 - Candice - the new house
It was unbelievable that she had found the perfect
house - the house that she had been looking for and at
such a low price. Sitting on the front porch swing,
Candice stared at the neat little flower garden,
thinking how happy her husband would be when he
saw the place that she found.
Going down to the flower bed, she observed that
someone recently had been using it as a depository for
their discarded cigarette butts. Dropping to her knees,
she began picking them up, intending to make her new
home as perfect as possible before her husband's
arrival with the furniture. The house was empty and
she was still staying in the motel, but had come out
here to rest because she wanted to enjoy the peace
and quiet of her new home.
She was wearing only her bikini and had brought a
hotel blanket with her. She liked the effect the sun had
upon her naked body, relaxing her, yet making her
slightly horny at the same time. Her husband hadn't
believed how much more aroused she could be, until
she showed him. While her body was tanned from her
recent honeymoon, there were obvious tan lines from
having to wear a bathing suit on the beach. Prior to
her husband's arrival, she wanted to remedy that
problem. She planned to spend as much time as
possible this summer, soaking up the sunshine in her
very private back yard, enjoying both the hot weather
and how she could get by with wearing fewer clothes.
If she had a gate where she could keep people out, she
would go naked all the time, but recognizing that farm-
hands would be in the fields working, she would have
to wear some clothes. In preparation, she had bought
some very brief shorts and halter tops. She planned on
going without a bra on all summer.
She walked around to the back yard and spread the
blanket where she could watch the driveway and hide
if anyone came up. Removing her bikini, she sat down
on the blanket and began applying suntan oil to her
naked body. It wasn't an extremely hot day but there
was enough sun to make it worthwhile.
She applied oil to her arms, then poured a bellybutton
full of lotion, which she used to coat her belly, rubbing
the oil deep into my skin. By the time that she started
rubbing the oil on her breasts, her nipples were
already aroused. She massaged the oil on her breasts,
ignoring the fact that most of her time was spent oiling
her nipples.
Stopping before she went to far, she sat up so that she
could rub the oil on her legs, using both hands to coat
her freshly shaved legs. By the time that she coated
her inner thighs, the warmth from the sun, the
sensitizing of her skin by the oil, and the manipulation
by her fingers, she was getting to be very horny.
Laying back on her back with her sunglasses covering
her eyes, she started to rub her clitoris in a circular
motion, observing that she didn't have to use any of
the suntan oil as a lubricant. While her middle finger
rubbed up and down her pussy slit, her other hand
was fondling and squeezing her nipples.
"Ohhh, this feel good - Mickey, where are you when I
need you?" she moaned, thinking about her husband
and how much more fun it would be if he were there.
She continued to fondle her pussy, trying to satisfy the
deep burning itch, getting turned on by the
masturbation, by the sun warming her naked, oil
coated body. She spread her legs apart and moved her
finger in a circular motion, rubbing her pussy as she
thought about Mickey's cock. She started moaning,
her voice rising with her passion as the excitement
brought her to a shuddering climax. Her whole body
quivered as she exploded, her voice rising to a high
pitched scream as she released the tension that she
felt inside.
******
The long, slender arm slowly pulled the cover off her
head, letting the bright daylight help wake her up. She
moved slowly, the effects of all the alcohol from the
night before, causing her head to throb with pain.
With a strong burst of effort, she threw the cover off
and groaned as the slightest motion caused her
intense pain.
She somehow found the strength to sit up, feeling not
only the headache, but the other tender parts of her
body. It'd been a hell-of-a-party. For the last two days,
they had been celebrating her "birthday", with all five
of her guards participating either singularly or in
groups. She had used all of her body cavities to satisfy
them before they had to return to their homes. Big Al
had stayed an extra day and they hadn't even bothered
to put any clothes on to go out for food. The furnished
Washington apartment that she had moved into after
leaving the farm house, was littered with empty pizza
boxes and liquor bottles.
She looked around the bedroom, seeing that she was
alone for the first time. Big Al had left during the
middle of the night - or day - whichever. She staggered
into the bathroom, feeling very nauseated. Dropping to
her knees beside the commode, she positioned her
body so that she could throw up when the time came.
This new body couldn't handle alcohol the way her
former body could.
******
"How long have you known this?"
The doctor puffed on his pipe, staring at his colleague,
who was examining a patient's medical record. As the
other doctor flipped through the different lab reports,
the doctor removed his pipe to say "About three
months. It was discovered during a yearly physical. I
verified the data by specialized follow-up tests. My
analysis indicates that he's only got about six months
to live. The cancer has spread through his body."
"Why aren't you treating him?"
"Because he's on Death's Row. He doesn't even know
that he's dying. I felt it was my obligation to spare him
the pain of knowing about it and any side-affects of
the chemotherapy."
The doctor closed the folder labeled "JOHN
AUGUSTUS" and put it back in it's rack, going to the
next folder.
******
The obviously effeminate man led the jeans and
sweatshirt clad young woman to the shampoo bowl,
where he put a plastic smock on her and shampooed
her hair, then began trimming her hair to shape it for
the new style that the woman had selected from a
book of hairstyles while she was waiting her turn. After
the trim, the hairstylist rolled her hair tightly around
hair rods until the top of her head was covered with
tightly rolled pink rods.
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she laughed to
herself "Wait till John has to do this and sees his new
reflection in the mirror - he'll shit a brick."
A smile appeared on the hairstylist face as he
misunderstood her joking remark "It won't be too bad.
I do a lot of men. You would be surprised at how much
I can make a man look more feminine after I'm
finished with him. Bring him by to see me."
The new Andrea Bell watched as the hairstylist placed
a roll of cotton around the hairline before saturating
the hair wrapped around each rod with a strong
smelling solution to curl the hair into nice tight curls,
then waited while the solution soaked into the long
hair. After the neutralizer was applied to each of the
wound curls and rinsed out, the hairstylist parted her
hair in narrow sections and applied a cream along
each part to color the hair to a shade that was similar
to Ann Margaret's hair color.
While her hair was being worked on, Andrea had
requested the total make-over, so one technician
worked on her fingernails and toenails, shaping and
manicuring the nails. She attached some false nails to
the chewed down fingernails, then filed the false
fingernails into long slender ovals before applying a
clear polish to each nail.
The makeup artist compared her face tone with color
samples, advised the manicurist which color nail
enamel to use and applied a very sheer, almost
undetectable makeup base. As the makeup artist
worked on Andrea's face, she showed Andrea what she
was doing and how to repeat the different procedures.
Andrea watched as the woman lightly dusted her
eyelids with a very light shadow, blending out to a
lighter shade under her arched brows; then added just
a suggestion of blush and a lightest pink lip color to
emphasize Andrea's natural beauty while not
appearing too made up.
A very different looking and much more attractive
woman walked out of the beauty salon. While Andrea
Bell had been naturally beautiful, her choice of
hairstyles and acceptance of her natural hair color;
hadn't been the best image that she could have
presented. As an artist, she had found beauty in
everything but herself, choosing to always present an
unyielding, formal, prim and proper appearance. For
the first time in the twenty seven years of her lifetime,
her new hair color complemented her natural coloring
and her wavy hairstyle highlighted her natural facial
features. The new Andrea was so absolutely stunning
that even close friends would have found it difficult to
recognize her; so drastic was the change in her
appearance.
Instead of the normal pulled back, flat bun or ponytail,
her new, radiant red hair was arranged in a mass of
curls and soft waves framing her face. Every curl and
wave was highlighted from where the hairstylist had
taken great care to place each curl and sculpt waves of
crisp, bouncy curls flowing back and down Andrea's
back; holding the hair in place with a mixture of gel
and hairspray.
Feeling very pleased with her choice of new hair color
and hair style, Andrea's step was livelier as she
searched the near-by department stores for new
clothes; not caring how much she charged to Andrea's
credit cards. Prior to moving out of the house, they
had gone through Andrea's clothes, and she had
rejected most of the clothes owned by the former
Andrea as being too "dull". Today's shopping trip was
to buy clothes that showed off her body - clothes that
looked tantalizing as she walked down the street. At
the end of the day, a radiant Andrea Bell walked out of
a fashionable department store, her credit card still
warm from it's constant use. A completely new
wardrobe had been purchased and would be delivered
to her apartment.
******
"Ralph, you're getting to be worse than old lady
Bradshaw. Why don't you back off and give her some
privacy? How would you feel if some meddling old fart
kept poking his nose into your business?"
"Martha, something's going on at that house. Not only
did Andrea move out, but some new woman has
moved in. Jeff Conway was roaming the woods looking
for his hunting dog and he saw her sunbathing. He's
been in the drugstore for the last three hours, re-
telling the story of seeing her naked body. And every
re-telling is embellished a little more as he remembers
something else that she did. I'm only going to suggest
to her that she be a little more discreet or half of the
county will roaming those woods every day."
*****
The solid clank of the heavy metal door echoed
through the long hallway. Although the hallway was
brightly lit by overhead lights, there was a cold and
unfriendly pallor that could only be understood by
someone that has personally been within the confining
walls of a prison's Death Row. The escort guard
nodded to the young woman to continue, wondering
how the she was avoiding the claustrophobic and
clammy feeling that most people experience;
remembering his own, first apprehensive walk down
this same corridor. Walking with very determined
steps, the very beautiful woman quickly walked down
the hallway to the next checkpoint.
The clicking sounds of the guard's hard leather steel-
toed boots and the woman's high heel shoes echoed off
the walls.
After what seemed like an very short time to the escort
guard as he studied the woman's body wishing that
she would do something wrong, permitting him the
opportunity to strip search her; they reached the
Death Row checkpoint. The two guards manning the
checkpoint examined the paperwork presented by the
escort guard. After reading the papers, the senior
guard said "Miss Bell, you're here to visit prisoner
14718, John Augustus. I have to remind you of the
standard rules that you agreed to; upon your entry to
our federal facility today. Because we're under a
security alert, we have to take extra procedures with
certain prisoners, which includes prisoner Augustus.
We'll escort you into a special visiting area, where we
have a chair placed outside a holding cell. After you sit
down in the chair, you can't get up or cross the yellow
line that's four feet in front of the chair upon entering
or leaving the holding cell. We'll escort prisoner
Augustus into the holding cell. Then we'll leave the
room, so that you may talk to him. While there won't
be any guards in the room, you'll be monitored at all
times by a silent camera - we can see you but can't
hear your private discussion with the prisoner. If you
leave your chair or attempt to pass prisoner Augustus
anything, we'll re-enter the room and arrest you. Do
you understand the rules and agree to comply?"
She nodded her head affirmatively, displaying a Mona
Lisa smile on her lips and a mischievous twinkle in her
gray-green eyes. Unable to accept the nod as an official
answer, the guard repeated his request in his official
sounding tone "I have to have a vocal
acknowledgment."
"Yes, Officer Johnson. What about the cigars that I
brought my friend? Can you give him one and let him
smoke it while we talk?" Replied the young woman in
an soft, sensitive voice, that seemed so out of place
within the stone walls. Her glistening red lips smiled at
the guard, providing a personal incentive to ignore the
gift rules.
"Sorry, but any gifts to prisoners must be examined
first. If the cigars appear to be only cigars, we'll give
them to him tomorrow."
The other checkpoint guard flipped some switches on
his control panel, resulting in an electric motor's whirl
sounding as a heavy metal door unlocked and opened,
reveling a large room. The escort guard and checkpoint
guard escorted the woman into the room and to a
heavy metal chair against the wall that was fastened to
the floor, facing a small jail cell. The chair was ten feet
away from the jail cell and four feet in front of the
chair was a bright yellow painted line.
She sat down in the chair and the guard took her
purse. She turned slightly in the chair so that the
dress slit exposed a lot of her outer thigh when she
crossed her leg. The guard noticed that the exposed
leg would be very evident to where the prisoner would
sit; but because exposing a little leg was not on the list
of forbidden actions, the guard didn't object. He knew
that Augustus would return to his cell and probably
masturbate after seeing this beautiful woman.
Then they waited, not saying a word as they stared at
the empty cell. While they waited, the guard
occasionally glanced at her, wondering why she was
here to see the prisoner. While it was normal for
requesters to see prisoners, everyone had to fill out a
form stating the reason for the visit. Her form only
contained the phrase "requested by prisoner's lawyer."
The guard noticed that she didn't appear to be
imitated by the guards or the prison itself. She
constantly smiled her little smile - as if she had some
secret that the solid prison walls and steel bars
couldn't suppress. As if she was internally laughing at
the concept of imprisonment.
About five minutes later, the sound of another motor
driven door announced the prisoner's arrival. A door
within the jail cell opened and three guards escorted a
prisoner wearing a bright orange jumpsuit-type
coverall into the room. The prisoner took short halting
steps because his feet and arms were restrained in
heavy metal manacles; the jingling sounds of the
manacles echoing quite loudly in the bare room.
The three guards helped the prisoner sit down in a
similar chair within the jail cell and fastened his arm
manacles to the chair. After checking the locks, the
three guards marched precisely out of the jail cell, the
sound of the heavy metal door's clank sound echoing
through the room.
The checkpoint guard repeated his instructions "Miss
Bell, you have one hour from the time that I exit this
room. We'll constantly monitor your video image with
our camera but your privacy is ensured because we
don't have any audio capabilities on our cameras. If we
observe you violate any of the rules that were
explained to you at our main gate and by myself - then
this session is instantly canceled. We'll forcibly remove
you from this room if necessary and you're subject to
possible arrest and/or detention. If you wish to leave
before the one hour is up, press the button on the side
of your chair and wait for me to enter the room."
She nodded acceptance of the mandatory rules;
slightly changing position so that one of her garters
was revealed on her leg. The guard frowned, knowing
that was a little too much skin to reveal and that he
was supposed to get a verbal response. He accepted
the nod and ignored the display of flesh. Satisfied with
the compliance to procedures so far, the checkpoint
guard nodded to the escort guard and they left the
room, taking the woman's purse. Neither occupant
spoke or moved, as they stared at each other until
about ten seconds after the guards shut the door after
their exit.
The prisoner was the first to break the silence,
speaking in a deep baritone that seemed so out of
place to anyone expecting Peter Lorre's pip-squeak
irritating monotone voice "Andrea, you look beautiful."
******
Candy re-filled their coffee cups. At first she had been
pissed off when the old man had told her of the
rumors circulating through town. Then remembering
that she shouldn't shoot the messenger, had invited
him in for a cup of coffee; as she asked him to tell
exactly what the rumors were. Though he was
embarrassed, he gave her a detailed repeating of the
rumors, changing the phrasing that the hunter had
used to phrases that were more acceptable for mixed
company. Phrases such as "buried her hand up to her
wrist" were replaced with "heavy masturbation".
Several times during his recital, he had blushed but
the woman kept asking for more details.
Leaning back on her chair, she said "Sounds like what
happened. Looks like I'm going to have to be a little
more discreet or start using the woods as a target
range to keep people further away."
Ralph smiled, feeling relieved that she was taking it so
well. Then she changed the subject, asking about him,
his wife, his family, the neighbors. After half an hour,
he felt very comfortable with the woman.
******
John Augustus was sitting on the floor, his back
against the bars, braced against the same corner
where he had sat every day while talking to Williams.
The next cell was empty, but old habits were hard to
break. As he smoked his cigar, he thought about how
beautiful and real she had looked. How the guards
had stared at her, not realizing that she was really his
former cell-neighbor. She walked, talked, and sat
exactly as a confident, attractive woman would.
Looking up at the wall, he stared at the single sheet of
paper taped to the wall, where he had started his
countdown to the first day that he could take some of
the old man's herbs - the day that he would fall asleep
that night and wake up in some woman's body.
From nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE Sat Feb 01 10:37:39 1997
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: Repost TG: Death Row by Waldo (12/12)
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Date: 1 Feb 1997 15:37:39 GMT
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Chapter 12 - The Middle
NOTE FROM WALDO: Instead of "the end", it's "the
middle". I may or may not finish this story. But
because there's so much spam in the alt.sex.stories.tg
newsgroup, I wanted to put something out there to
help keep the newsgroup active.
This story was written at the request of a reader who
wanted to read a "Why not let the bad guys have a
little fun in good guys' bodies" type story. While
writing it, I've tried to add a little suspense and terror.
Hope you enjoy it.
I've considered several options for how this story could
continue. Some examples are:
John starts his assimilation of Candy's body, only
Candy's husband has moved in and follows up on his
wife's request to rape her frequently.
John starts his assimilation of Candy's body, only
Candy's husband is still stuck on the west coast and
the hunter (Jeff Conway) has teamed up with the local
bad kid - Clive's son. Between the two of them, they
have plans for the young woman.
John starts his assimilation of Candy's body, and
Big Al and the boys come back. Only John's brother
has given them advice on what he wants to occur to
his former brother. After all, with John gone, the
brother is in charge of the mob and has all of John's
money.
John starts his assimilation of Candy's body and
Andrea comes back, bringing with her a toybox full of
toys and a couple of local men that she picked up.
John starts his assimilation, only something goes
wrong and he's taking control of Andrea's body.
Williams recognizes what's occurring and tries to
prevent it by trying to escape. Each of them fight for
control of the woman's body.
John starts his assimilation, only something goes
wrong and he's taking control of Martha's much older
and plumper body. Ralph sees his wife acting strange
and goes looking for his own wizard.
John starts his assimilation, only something goes
wrong and he's taking control of Ralph and Martha's
daughter who has come home because of martial
difficulties.
John starts his assimilation of Candy's body and
goes after Officer Mahoney, intending to inflict more
torture on the prison guard. After all the prison is
only one hundred and twenty miles away from the
farm.
John starts his assimilation of Candy's body and
while he's in control of her body, she wakes up in his
body in jail. While none of their prisoner's fantastic
story makes any sense to the prison doctors, Officer
Mahoney believes it and goes after the convict.
The old China man has a few tricks up his sleeve.
After all, he's still got Williams supposedly dead body
and was going to do something with the real Andrea's
spirit.
John starts his assimilation of Candy's body and
discovers that he doesn't want to do it, but can't stop
the process.
John starts his assimilation of Candy's body and
several things happen. The hubby's there and despite
her pleading, rapes his wife repeatedly, following her
previous requests for physical roughness where she
can scream. The hubby has to go back to work and
Clive's son/Jeff visit her; followed by Big Al and
Andrea who have their own agenda.
A friend's comments who I asked to review this story:
"I like happy ends, and so I'd like Andrea to return.
She could probably adjust to a male body, so she
needn't return to her old body. But I don't think
Bob should get away that easily. For John/Candy
I think Candy's husband could probably do some
"interesting" things to John, which John doesn't
like. But he'll probably get his boys to "rescue"
him and restrain the hubby or the hubby has
some other business. I can't see how the
assimilation can work with the hubby around.
Andrea could show Candy some "fun" perhaps.
Candy/John then could visit Mahoney and
torture him. There she could tell something
about her plans while she thinks he can't hear
her - like in all those movies. Of course he can
hear it or it is recorded and manages to remove
John's body from the prison, so that Candy can
reclaim her body and gets her hubby free. This way
they could perhaps discover the full truth and can
go after Bob in Andrea's body too - perhaps a
private revenge by Mahoney and the old man.
Perhaps Andrea wants her body back then, too."
Another reviewer (the friend who originally got me
thinking about this story line) suggestions:
"As for the final outcome, John got Candy's body
but the old man got Williams back into John's
body and he was found by the prison guard after
he was arrested for trying killing the old man
and the finger prints check got him back to the
prison, dying in John's body (few days later due to
the cancer and the drug increase the speed of the
cancer spread.) The prison people figure both of
the people faked their death by using some sort of
voodoo drugs and the manhunt for Williams
began."
"The old man got the two women back in their
bodies and John in William's body which arrested
again and lived the whole life in death row, until
the time come, and no one believe his story,
thinking he got the drug mix up his mind. His
brother won't believe a thing he said (John's
brother) since he got the control of the mob and
the money."
"Or almost the same above except the two women
exchange with each other."
"Or let John got in two bodies in the same time
because of error or took too much of the drug."
After their reviews, I came up with one more possible
ending:
If I went with the John/Candy routine, the husband
would be a problem. I'd considered having the
husband come in for about a week of early
assimilation's, then being called away on business -
only to return and find something different about his
wife. But there's enough of a sexual not-completely-
sure in Andrea's personality where she could be
comfortable in a man's body.
What if after several days of assimilation, John
arranges for the husband to be killed (nothing that
damages the body -perhaps a choking) and the
Chinaman gets the body. Because John's got a head
start on the body transfer, he finishes first and goes
after Officer Mahoney. While he's/candy playing games
with Mahoney, Andrea is "moved" to the husband's
body. When Andrea is in complete control of the dead
husband's body, she/he goes after her former body
but can't find it. Instead she finds Big Al and his
friends so she takes revenge on them while waiting.
Mahoney is having a good time with the two wild and
crazy chicks (new Andrea and Candy) who continue to
play games with him that harass him. For example,
make him wear female underwear under his guard's
clothes (by teasing, and promises) then call in to report
that he's smuggling dope into the prison, knowing that
he'll be searched and punished. Then the two girls
make a big mistake and Mahoney recognizes them.
They choke him but the old Chinaman gets the body.
Because the Chinaman's magic won't let a body
transfer go back into his/her original body, by the time
the dust settles, Andrea is in the hubby's body ( and
happy with being male), Candy is in Mahoney's body,
Mahoney is in Andrea's body, and - surprise - Ralph
Emerson is in Candy's body. Ralph had a stroke and
the Chinaman imprisoned John in the dying body.
Comments are welcome.