Death Row

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."

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."

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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?"

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.

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."

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.

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.