Sugar and Spice

Since I first began posting my stories on dial-up BBS's (remember those?), I have written so many 'crank-yankers', people have come to expect that from me. Yes, I have enjoyed them just as much as you (my wastebasket will attest to that). Just once, I wanted to write something else. Yes, it has sex. It ALSO has some extreme violence - NOT the "playtime" BDSM kind. This one is long, complex, and creates an entire world, filled with complex personalities, emotions, and plot twists. It relates a ten-year span in the lives of its main characters (and seems to take almost as long to read). This is not my usual "zipless fuck"; it starts slow, develops gradually, and ends with a bang - actually, a series of bangs. In that, it's kinda like really good sex. Hopefully, you guys will stick it out (no pun intended) for "the good parts".

More to the point, this story deals in a very personal way with the nasty underbelly of Sex in America, and how it might play out for someone who is not 'mainstream'. I don't pretend to be the world's leading authority on the subject, or that this work has any redeeming clinical or scientific value. It tries to say something about us, who we are, and the social dynamic that shapes and propels our lives every day. The sex is intense; the violence, more so. The damage done to the individuals involved lasts a lifetime. In that, it is just like real life.

We grew up studying the horrors that were Auschwitz, Sobibor, Dachau, Buchenwald, Treblinka, and the rest. We vowed: "Never Again." We saw the trenches of bodies unearthed in Bosnia and Iraq and decried the monsters that dug and filled them, then covered them over and walked away. There were others: Somalia, Ethiopia, Rawanda - without the benefit of the trenches. We saw so much slaughter, the mind could not comprehend it - nor the hardness of spirit behind it.

I won't even attempt to address the new horrors: Guantanamo Bay and El Graib. Instead, fast forward to a bleak, desolate stretch of Wyoming pastureland - the "Heartland of America". Picture an isolated stretch of barbed-wire fence, and the solitary body of Matthew Sheppard strung up on it.

What's the difference? Scale? Or Perception?

If you cannot be terrified of that concept, try to imagine those of us who are.

Sugar and Spice

(c)2004

By Cherysse St. Claire

Like any nine-year-old, Sharon Brennan wanted a best friend, someone she could play with, confide in, and entrust with her deepest, darkest secrets. There were other girls at school, of course, and the assertive, engaging young girl made friends easily. But she never had the opportunity to spend time with them outside the classroom. The other girls all lived in Aurora; Sharon, along with her mother and brother had moved to a lavishly-appointed home outside the city limits, owned by her mother's friend and co-worker. That alone would not have been fatal, but Sharon had to take care of her younger brother every afternoon until her mother returned from work. That meant she usually had to hurry home on the bus - with her brother in tow - after school. Even if she wanted to stick around to be with her friends, what would she do with him? It just wasn't fair!

It wasn't that Sean was loathsome or hateful to her; far from it. He was only a year younger and really kinda cute. Sean had been a "preemie" who, physically, had not caught up with other boys his age. He was small, with a slender build and delicate, symmetric features. He had also inherited their mother's thick, satiny copper-colored hair and emerald eyes. Sharon envied him more than a little. Unlike Sharon, Sean was painfully shy and insecure, unable to make friends easily. He adored his big sister and would do anything she asked.

Sharon took advantage of that. By default, Sean became her playmate and companion - on her terms, of course. She chose how they would occupy their time together while awaiting their mother's return. When they played together, it was usually with her Barbie Doll. She had him help her dress and undress Barbie in different outfits according to the different scenes she had imagined. Sean seemed not to mind such girlish pursuits in the slightest. If it made Sharon happy, he was happy. To Sharon, it was almost like having the girlfriend she wanted. Still, he was a boy - unless....

Inspiration hit the mischievous girl. One day, upon returning home from school, Sharon told Sean they were going to play "Dress Up" in a new way. She took her brother's hand and led him to the bathroom. She filled the bathtub with warm water, to which she added some lilac-scented bubble bath. Stripping the school clothes from the expectant boy, she helped him into the tub and washed him head to toe, allowing him to soak a while. She helped him out of the tub, patted him dry, then applied lotion to his hands, arms, feet, legs, and torso. When she had finished this task, Sean's entire body was smooth, fragrant, soft to the touch.

Leading him next to their shared bedroom, she dressed him in a pair of her panties, dress, pantyhose, and shoes. After dressing him up, she sat him next to her at their mother's vanity table. She polished his fingernails with her mother's deep red nail polish, then his lips with the matching shade of lipstick. Sharon had tried it on herself and didn't like the way it looked, but her mother had described it as her favorite shade. She had remarked that it flattered her auburn hair and made her feel sexy. The young girl had to admit; it did flatter her mother - and looked just as good on her red-headed brother! She played with his longish tresses, brushing them this way and that until they looked just so, fixed it in place with hairspray, pinned a bow to one side to make him look even more feminine. A final spritz of her mother's favorite perfume, and voila! She and her 'girlfriend' were ready to play.

They spent the rest of the afternoon playing with Sharon's Barbie doll. Sean was a little unsure of himself at first, but took readily to his sister's direction. By the end of the afternoon, Sharon had coaxed Sean into becoming the giggly, confident, and outgoing 'best friend' of her dreams! Sean, in turn, felt closer to the sister he adored than ever before.

Their mother returned home to observe, unnoticed, her two children engaged in their rapturous new mode of play. In a matter of moments, she ran through the gamut of emotions from shock to horror to bewilderment to curiosity to wonder. She presented herself to the playmates, assuaged their fear that she perceived this new game as "something naughty", and joined in their play. Before long, she allayed her own fears as well. She determined neither child was being hurt, physically or emotionally. This was something they both enjoyed, and in which she could perceive no harm being done to anyone. In addition, her little boy, as a little girl, possessed a sense of self-confidence, poise, and joie de vivre he had never displayed as a male. Searching her own emotions, Nora Brennan couldn't help but feel a twinge of bittersweet rapture. She knew Society would see this as wrong, an aberration. Her heart told her otherwise. For the first time in a long time, something seemed to be working out for the better....

Nora was a still-stunningly-beautiful redhead with a 'past'. She had left that life behind over a decade before; gone back to school, earned a nursing degree, gotten a good job at the clinic in Aurora, gotten married and had the two children that had become her life. Her past had caught up with her just before the birth of her second child. The moment had been ugly. Nora's husband walked out on her, claiming she had deceived him and that he wouldn't remain with a 'woman like that'. If she had deceived him, it was a sin of omission; she hadn't told him everything about herself for fear of losing him. Damned if you do, damned if you don't....

Whatever her sins, Nora Brennan was suddenly alone with one child already, another on the way, and an ex-husband who wanted nothing to do with her, much less provide financial support. She coped as best she could. When she was finally backed into a financial corner and faced with losing her home, she and her children had moved in with her best friend who, in turn, began pulling some strings to help her obtain child support. Even so, the stress had caused her to give birth six weeks early. She had almost lost the baby altogether - almost.

Nora had believed her second child was going to be another girl. She had even picked out a name she adored for Sharon's new sibling. Nora had not been disappointed when Sean was born. She loved her son just as much as she loved his sister. She was especially taken with his uncanny resemblance to herself. Yet her instincts told her something was not right, not the way it had been intended to be. As the years passed, she grieved for his obvious lack of self-confidence and inability to make friends - other than his sister. She would observe him wistfully, and wonder what might have been.

She was also keenly aware of the burden she had, necessarily, placed on her daughter. Nora felt guilty about cutting Sharon off from other friends by having to take care of her brother. Seeing them together this way, happier than they had ever been before, she knew she had found an answer to both problems, if only until Sean was old enough to take care of himself. Perhaps, just perhaps, it was a way for Sean to find himself at last, to enable him to open up freely to others. No, that probably wasn't a practical notion. Still, Nora Brennan was elated with even this much.

From that moment on, Nora nurtured their game of "Dress Up" in any way she could. She had convinced Sharon that just dressing Sean up would not be enough; it would only confuse him further, possibly making the painfully shy, retiring boy even more so. While dressed, he should be a 'she' as completely as possible - with a feminine identity and personality. The name Nora had originally chosen for her unborn second child - the one she had altered to reflect his unexpected gender - came back to her now. She suggested it to Sharon, who was just as thrilled as her mother.

Together, they sat down with the newly-feminized Sean. They suggested, since he was having such a good time playing "Dress Up", wouldn't it be fun to pretend to be a girl like his big sister? He could be 'Shauna' and wear all kinds of pretty clothes, just like Barbie. This would be their little secret; they wouldn't tell anyone outside of "family". Mama and Sharon would just adore that; wouldn't SHE? The child's reply had been as enthusiastic as it had been predictable.

Mother and daughter patiently, lovingly, trained 'Shauna' to dress, walk, speak, act, and think like a girl, until it became second nature to her. The older sibling especially took to the task. No plastic doll could ever hope to compete with her walking, talking, interactive 'Barbie'. Gradually, "Dress Up" became any time Shauna was not in school. The 'game' became pretending to be 'Sean' and fooling all their teachers and friends at school into believing she was a he. Nora allowed Shauna's hair to grow out and took her with Sharon and herself to have it trimmed and styled, reinforcing the child's perception of herself as a girl. Nora delighted in taking her two daughters out with her. This all made sense; it was as it should have been in the beginning. In a lifetime of bad choices and unintended consequences, this one thing was very, very right.

Nora was not alone in that perception. Evelyn Rossi, a magnificent blonde beauty, was entranced with the development of her new "goddaughter". Since before Sean/Shauna's birth, she had been an integral part of the Brennan "family". It had been Evelyn who had taken the struggling, expectant mother in when all other avenues had been closed to her. Her home had been their home as long as Sharon and Shauna could remember. The siblings enjoyed having two mothers to look up to. They both admired Evelyn's strong, self-assured personality and take-charge attitude.

The younger 'girl' was even more enamored with Evelyn's personal style of dressing and grooming. While she was the consummate professional at work, her personal style was flashier, more provocative, in a very "80's-retro" way. Whatever outfit Evelyn might wear on any given day, whether for business or pleasure, she always wore skyscraper-high-heeled shoes. She appeared to flow, rather than walk in her high heels, hips swaying alluringly. Shauna had been entranced with those stiletto stilts and the alluring woman's grace in them. The reactions of the men who beheld this vision on her 'pedestal' - and Evelyn's subsequent ability to manipulate them to get her way - were not lost upon the impressionable young girl, either. Shauna had seen photos of her own mother - in her "wild and crazy days" before she got married - dressed in the same provocative style. Evelyn had remarked it was what Shauna should expect from two girls who grew up on "the left coast of the Hudson."

Shauna had learned that her mother and Evelyn had been best friends long before their careers in Health Care, but did not know any details of that long-ago existence. Her other 'mom' kept long hours, frequently not coming home until late at night. When she was home, she still worked in the privacy of her study - usually with the door shut. Nora told them such was the life of a Manager; her friend was all but married to her job. For all of Evelyn and Nora's efforts, the four enjoyed a more-than-comfortable, if not lavish lifestyle.

And then Nora Brennan died. Her ex-husband, father of her children, had taken exception to her long-standing efforts to seize his assets and garnish his wages - then taken a semi-automatic pistol to the hospital where she worked. The devoted mother of two died in a storm of point-blank nine-millimeter malice, her beautiful face destroyed, her life force extinguished before her body hit the ground. Her attacker thudded to the floor next to her moments later, felled by a security guard's return fire. Blood, teeth, and gray matter gushed from the gaping exit wound in the back of his skull.

A local television news crew had been in the office next door, taping a human-interest piece on breast cancer survivors. The shocking 'scoop' had been uplinked to the station before the first police car screeched to a halt at the front door. One more human tragedy had played itself out: "Two dead in a shooting rampage at a local hospital. Exclusive film at eleven."

Another tragedy had yet to be resolved. Although Sharon was in school that day, 'Sean' - in one of his rare non-school appearances - had accompanied his mother to the hospital for a routine vaccination. He had been sitting at his mother's elbow, reading Highlights For Children, when his father burst in and opened fire. Nora Brennan and her ex-husband had died in a fountain of blood and gore before the terrified child's eyes. The networks picked up the clip of a dazed nine-year-old with lifeless eyes, drenched in the mortal remains of his slaughtered parents. The image haunted the nation for days. There were the predictable calls for more stringent gun control, tighter security, anger management, grief counseling, more protection for the Lazy, Inept, and Privileged. Then, the media moved on to newer, fresher atrocities, as the media always does.

Evelyn Rossi was inconsolable. The two had been best friends since their childhood in New Jersey. Evelyn had also been an integral part of the 'past' Nora had withheld from her husband. In fact, that 'past' had been the reason they had both moved to Aurora those many years ago. To her horror, Evelyn realized she had been instrumental in her friend's assassination as well. A careless reference to their mutual past, intended as an insult to the disgusting slug's manhood, had been the 'loose thread' that eventually unraveled Nora's marriage.

It had been Evelyn who subsequently convinced her longtime friend to pursue the ex-husband through the courts, as much to ease her own guilty conscience as to punish his lack of one. Knowing men as well as she did, Evelyn believed she should have foreseen his reaction. She would have, had they still been on the East Coast. "Evie" Rossi would never have been that careless. In spite of her position of authority, she and Nora both had succumbed to the same small-town complacency as those who had lived there all their lives. That she would adopt and raise Nora's children as her own was little comfort for the loss of the one person with whom she had shared everything.

'Everything' included Nora's unqualified joy in Sean's feminization, and how 'her' personality had flowered so dramatically. All of that now seemed lost. 'Sean' had been devastated by the death of his mother. The trauma had somehow locked the child into that male persona; 'Shauna' refused every effort to bring her forward. The child had become more withdrawn, isolated than ever before - with two exceptions.

In time, Evelyn replaced Nora as a mother figure, exuding an aura of strength and confidence. The child bonded with his new protector and had drawn upon this strength, as well as the comforting presence of his big sister. He clung physically and emotionally to both as though they were the last two people on earth. The massacre had taken place in October. As Thanksgiving came and went, the child was still too terrified to leave the house, much less go to school. Often Sharon would return from school to find her brother cowering in a dark closet, shivering in terror in the fetal position under a pile of clothes. The two frantic family members struggled mightily to reach the child and heal his fractured soul.

One thing Evelyn could do was get Sean into therapy. She had a close friend who was perfect for the task. Claudia Rafferty was an M.D. and Ph.D. in Psychiatry. Juvenile trauma had been the cornerstone of Claudia's practice, which now focused on the effects of juvenile trauma on adult identity disorders. Dr. Rafferty used a broad spectrum of medical and psychiatric tools, including hypnosis, to help men and women of all ages in recognizing and resolving their emotional conflicts. Upon learning of Sean's 'duality', the psychiatrist expressed keen interest in his case. That she would be able to return a favor to an old friend sealed the deal. Evelyn had no doubt Sean would benefit greatly from Claudia's care.

The problem was, Claudia Rafferty was in New York. A series of phone calls led to a workable plan. Owing to the tightly-knit bond between the three, Dr. Rafferty decided to approach Sean's case as a family problem, requiring a family solution. Evelyn, Sharon and Sean flew to New York for Christmas Break. They spent two weeks in the city and consulted with Dr. Rafferty every day. First came an exhaustive battery of lab tests. Sean surrendered samples of every conceivable bodily fluid and tissue. While the lab was analyzing the samples, Dr. Rafferty met first with all three together, then each individually.

Sharon recounted the origins of 'Shauna' and how much she had enjoyed dressing up her little brother and turning him into her 'girlfriend'. She added her memories of her mother's participation in the transformation and the delight all three had shared. Evelyn discussed the atrocity that had occurred at the hospital, Sean's proximity to the catastrophe (Claudia remembered well the poignant video clip that had so haunted the national conscience), and her fruitless attempts to salvage the child's withdrawn, morose personality since that day. She related her perception of 'Shauna' as a happy, sociable, well-adjusted little girl who had completely submerged since the shooting. Since that time, only a near-catatonic 'Sean' remained, functioning on a minimal level at best and not at all if Evelyn or Sharon were not nearby. She summarized with Nora Brennan's expressed desires for her child. Almost as an afterthought, Evelyn related Nora's uneasy suspicion that something about her youngest child was "not right", even before they had begun to dress him as 'her'.

As before, Sean was minimally responsive. Claudia was able to elicit happy memories of his mother and sister dressing him up, of being 'Shauna' and loving every minute. When the doctor attempted to draw upon his recollections of that horrible day at the hospital, he shut down. The child expressed no memory of that day at all. The therapist believed him. She knew from past experience the human mind, especially a child's mind, was perfectly capable of, and likely to, repress that kind of trauma; lock it away deep in the subconscious. That way, the conscious mind could cope with living, if only on a diminished level. That process was a double-edged sword; the person could function, but would usually never heal until he faced the trauma head-on and worked through it.

The gifted therapist had dealt with this kind of human misery before and knew what she had to do. Beginning that same afternoon, Sean underwent a course of intensive hypnotherapy. Day after day, the doctor labored to retrieve his repressed memories and sort out the jumble of emotions locked up in the young boy-girl's head. Her findings were disturbing, but not in the least surprising.

Claudia Rafferty met privately with Evelyn and Sharon to review the results of Sean's therapy and tests. One recurring theme established itself above all else; Sean loathed being a boy. Nora Brennan's intuition had been confirmed by the lab results. Sean had been born with Klinefelter's Syndrome, a genetic disorder whereby the subject's genetic code contained an extra female chromosome. Many XXY males showed no unusual symptoms at all. Others displayed any combination of mild learning disabilities, female secondary sex characteristics at the onset of puberty and Gender Dysphoria as they matured.

Sean was giving every indication of being a poster boy for the latter group. Even then, he was showing elevated levels of estrogen atypical of male children at his or later ages. Nora and Sharon's game of "Dress Up" had unwittingly tapped into the boy's latent gender anomaly and given it focus. Normally, this was a complex, though treatable condition; after therapy, the subject would elect to either revert to his masculine self or continue to full transition. Claudia indicated she had had experience with both options. On the other hand, Sean's situation was anything but normal.

There had been every indication Sean had been transitioning to 'Shauna' in a fairly typical manner. The shootings had not only stopped that process dead in its tracks, they had created a clearly-defined schism between the two identities. Consciously, Sean remembered nothing of the event. Subconsciously, every gory detail was etched vividly on his brain. Somehow, the child had come to believe he had been the cause of Nora Brennan's death. He knew full well his parents had been quarrelling over the issue of child support. 'Sean' had been there that day, but had been powerless to stop his rampaging father. For that, he blamed himself, accepted full responsibility, and was beating himself up over it, emotionally.

At first, 'Shauna' had recoiled in horror, refusing to come out at all. Now it appeared 'Sean' was intentionally suppressing her. It was unclear at that point exactly what his motives were; to protect her from the feelings of guilt or, in some bizarre, scorched-earth twist, to punish her along with himself. That there was absolutely nothing either one could have done to prevent the tragedy was completely lost on his conscience. With Shauna repressed and Sean's devastated self-esteem mentally lying in a bloody heap next to his lifeless mother, it would be a long, long time before 'Sean' would be strong enough to become a functional individual - if ever.

Evelyn was stunned. Sharon was reduced to tears; now she felt responsible for the emotional trauma her sibling had endured. The therapist reassured her. 'Shauna' would likely have evolved in some fashion with or without her intervention. Sharon, through her creation of 'Shauna', had nothing to do with Nora's death, nor Sean's resulting trauma. If anything, the elder sister, her late mother, and stepmother had aided her sibling's potential recovery by offering him a way out. It was that 'escape route' they now had to discuss....

Sean's remaining time in New York was spent in continued intensive hypnotherapy. Dr. Rafferty commented that he was an ideal subject for the therapy and was using powerful psychotropic drugs to intensify the effect of the 'suggestions' she implanted in the youth's subconscious. Evelyn and Sharon had been invited to attend one session. It was eerie to see the young boy-girl in a trance-like state, responding to the therapist's instructions. It was eerier still to see him acquiesce so readily to the slightest suggestion. Claudia had implanted a 'trigger phrase' that, as a result of his intensive conditioning, would 'convert' Sean to his trance-like 'induction state'. That saved precious time, time used to untangle Sean's twisted psyche. The plan called for weekly follow-ups with Sean via Internet webcam, with office visits every three months. In addition, Evelyn and Sharon received special training of their own, since they would be Dr. Rafferty's 'eyes and ears' on site.

The three returned to Aurora and their lives. Two of them braced for the ensuing struggle - and the gamble they had agreed to take. Sean appeared modestly more at ease with himself and was at least willing to try school again. The school administration had pledged to bend over backwards to make his assimilation into everyday routine a smooth one. Of course, they had no idea of the gender issues involved and Evelyn Rossi, mindful of small-town attitudes towards the subject, thought it best not to bring them up. Evelyn, remembering Claudia's detailed instructions, prayed the predicted pattern of behavior would unfold and vowed her utmost efforts to see it through. Sharon carried renewed hope for her sibling's future - as well as a simple little phrase she and Evelyn had committed to memory. The first step was the most difficult; waiting.

It began innocently enough. Since the tragedy, Sean had stuck to one or the other like glue. Gradually, it became clear he was bonding to one. He wasn't rejecting his sister by any stretch of the imagination; he just began spending more and more time with Evelyn. His former fascination with her provocative personal style seemed to return. His mentor welcomed his company, even in her most personal moments; dressing, styling her hair, or doing her makeup. Every little thing she did, every movement she made held his rapt attention. Rather than being unnerved by the intense scrutiny, Evelyn welcomed his attentions, identifying them as the first sign of the healing process Claudia warned her to watch for. "Baby steps," the therapist had advised, "wait for him to make the first move."

"I wish I could look as pretty as you."

The words had come out of nowhere. Evelyn had been getting ready to go out that evening. It was definitely an 'evening look' - far more dramatic than she would do for the office. Although she had been advised to expect something like it, Evelyn's heart still skipped a beat. She knew exactly how to respond.

"You can, SHAUNA. Here, let me show you how...."

The joyful stepmother spent an hour doing her child's face, taking her step-by-step through the process of transforming herself into a youthful heartthrob. His copper tresses, having been allowed to grow since his first tentative steps towards Girlhood those many months ago, were arranged in a very feminine style to compliment his face. That he had offered no objection to the invocation of his feminine identity was the most telling sign the first cracks in Sean's steely facade had begun to form. Claudia Rafferty's intensive recovery efforts were finally coming to fruition.

It took months. 'Sean' slowly loosened his death grip on his conscious self and 'Shauna' began to emerge from her shell. Evelyn went to great lengths to help the young girl flourish alongside her sister. Sharon, ever the precocious one, had entered puberty at age eleven. So did Shauna, with the help of a hormone and anti-androgen regimen authorized by Dr. Rafferty and prescribed by an endocrinologist at the hospital. Shauna's daily pills were augmented with weekly booster shots administered at home.

Shauna's body responded quickly to the intense therapy, catching up with her sister's development. It became apparent both girls had inherited their mother's genetic coding for lush, womanly curves. As her body developed, Shauna's personality made a spectacular comeback. It was like the old days, when she pretended to be 'Sean' to fool everyone at school. There was one significant difference now; even more than her older sibling, Shauna was proud of her blossoming figure and loved to flaunt it. The two amassed a shared wardrobe of trendy outfits designed to make them look "sexy" - with just enough drab, bulky boy clothes to get 'Sean' by at school. Shauna understood the necessity for the daily deception, but that did not make the practice any more palatable.

At the onset of her teen years, the younger sister exhibited no interest in adopting the fresh-scrubbed 'schoolgirl look'. Instead, she solicited Evelyn's advice on which color combinations of makeup to use, how to apply it, and how to wear her hair for maximum impact. Evelyn was delighted to aid her younger child achieve the provocative look she desired. Claudia pronounced the teen's proclivities as a healthy step in the right direction - as far from 'Sean' as possible. The teen tease began going out 'en femme' with her stepmother and sister; downtown, to the mall, to a movie or dinner. She flirted openly with teenage boys, to the amazement of her companions.

Their experiments with hairstyles and makeup complimented 'Shauna' - at the expense of 'Sean'. There were occasions when the 'boy' went to school bearing traces of makeup that had not been completely removed, or his ponytail was a little too fluffy or wavy and smelled faintly of hairspray and perfume. On a few bold occasions, the 'traces' of makeup had been freshly applied. This and other irregularities had caused 'Sean' to be sent home from school on more than one occasion for "inappropriate manner of dress".

School was not the best of times for the gender-conflicted youth. It was the one place she could not be 'Shauna'. Everyone in school knew of Nora Brennan, if they had not known the woman personally. Many had; Dr. Harrison, Nora's former boss, was on the school district's approved list of physicians. He handled dozens of student physicals, inoculations, and general healthcare. Of course, everyone in school knew Sharon - and 'Sean'. Sympathy only lasts so long; casual cruelty goes on forever. Although 'Sean' wore loose-fitting clothes to disguise his blossoming body and had long since been excused from Phys Ed classes for 'medical reasons', his appearance and mannerisms continued to morph - and the name-calling began.

To make matters worse, another symptom of Klinefelter's had been diagnosed; Shauna was mildly dyslexic. It wasn't a major impediment, and she was tutored on the side to overcome her disability. It did cause some embarrassing moments when 'Sean' was required to read aloud or do math computations on the chalkboard in class. That caused her to be labeled 'stupid' in addition to the other hurtful epithets. Throughout middle school, then high school, the knowing looks, sly smiles, and taunts became daunting.

Sharon adored high school; she had a close-knit circle of friends, had joined Drama Club, and was even on the Pom-Pom squad. None of those activities were even options for 'Sean'. They all required approval by someone else - faculty or peers - and that wasn't going to happen in her case. Sharon had encouraged her sibling to go out for activities, to become a 'joiner' like herself. She couldn't understand Shauna's polite rebuff. Was her little sister anti-social after all?

Shauna seethed. How do you explain Discrimination, Harassment and Bigotry to someone who has never experienced them, never will, and therefore has no point of reference from which to see them for what they really are? Saying to them "You just don't get it" doesn't help when they really don't, can't, and won't. Shauna convinced herself those mundane activities didn't mean anything to her; nor did Sharon's popularity among her peers. The younger sibling gritted her teeth, dug in, and waited for HER time.

Shauna avoided her many tormentors by hiding out in the school library as much as possible. Spending an hour or so in the library after school enabled her to take the late bus, missing the bulk of the miscreants - the ones making her life a waking nightmare - who stormed out of school as soon as the bell rang. So, too, did it enable her to ride home with Sharon, who usually had Pom- Pom practice. Best of all, there were few people in the library after school. If nothing else, Shauna could sit in one of the computer carrels and do her makeup and hair.

Needing something to occupy her time in the library, Shauna began playing with computers. Of course, she was no stranger to either computers or the Internet, having her standing appointment with Claudia Rafferty every week. The library computers had Internet access and a database of interactive training courses. The young girl started a course one afternoon, just to pass the time - and progressed from there....

It was the school librarian that first noticed the strange, effeminate boy appeared to be spending an inordinate amount of time on the computers after school. She had assumed he was on the Internet, playing those damn interactive shoot-'em-up games - or worse - like the other boys. She quietly approached him from an oblique angle one afternoon. He was so engrossed in what he was doing, he was not aware of her approach - as she had intended. The woman was amazed to observe he was actually breezing through a training module for Microsoft Access. Acting on a hunch, she accessed the online training database and did an inquiry on the student ID he used to reserve the computer. The system's response made her jaw drop. She brought it to the attention of the Principal, who had an identical reaction when the results were verified. Some phone calls were made, impassioned words exchanged - and, in the winter of her eleventh-grade year, seventeen-year-old 'Sean Kyle Brennan' became an officially-certified Microsoft Office User Specialist.

Shauna was a bit miffed at having to yield the credit for her accomplishment to 'Sean'. She was proud of her achievement, nonetheless. She chose to deflect any praise from others with a polite "Thank you" and nothing more. The girl didn't want to dwell on the sincerity - or complete lack thereof - of sentiments from people whose opinions no longer mattered to her. There were other certifications to earn - which DIDN'T require someone else's permission or approval....

Paperwork in any business environment is a chore. Nowhere was that more true than the Aurora Regional Medical Center. Evelyn had been promoted to her current position because she had sold the Board of Directors on the fiscal benefits of establishing a central business and records office to service all of the practicing physicians, eliminating the need for each doctor to retain business staff and the subsequent duplication of effort. The problem was, that central office then became deluged with mountains of paperwork. Evelyn had petitioned for, and was granted, a centralized data processing network. The rack-mounted, multi-processor server and main console were in Administration, while the local desktop computers in each doctor's office were linked to the server as client workstations. Any doctor - or his staff - could access and update their clients' records remotely, while all the heavy-duty record-keeping, billing, and other 'back-office' functions were done centrally. Owing to the sensitive nature of the data kept on the server, it was protected in depth; Internet proxy and software firewalls, 128-bit encryption, regularly-updated anti-virus software, and closed-circuit security cameras.

The catch was, the system required a real person with enough skill and intelligence to use all the new, complex hardware and software tools. Evelyn could do it fairly well, but she had other, more pressing responsibilities. She had already gone through several temps who got lost trying to understand the nuances of the various programs and commands. When Evelyn had shown off her 'baby' to Shauna, the young girl had sat down at the operator's console and, in an hour, made child's play of tasks others had thrown up their hands at. Not only did she understand the processes, she jotted down a series of notes, which she later transcribed into an Operating Procedures Manual.

No one had to hit Evelyn over the head with a brick; Sean was recruited to work a couple of afternoons a week, plus Saturdays until the end of the school year, then full-time over the summer. The clinic would get a young, but much-needed, tech-savy office assistant. Sean would get valuable work experience, a very-welcome source of regular income and, if Evelyn could get her way, a chance to be 'Shauna' in a real-world environment.

But Shauna who? Many people at the hospital fondly remembered the personable, vivacious Nora Brennan and her two children. It was one thing for 'Shauna' to visit the mall, go out for dinner, or any number of benign social activities. Even a town the size of Aurora would offer at least THAT modicum of anonymity. A real-world job required real-world identity and documentation. A real-world job at a location where you are already known is trickier still. People are not dumb; if 'Shauna Kay Brennan', beautiful and vivacious redhead, went to work at the hospital, someone would put two and two together - and it would be all over town in a day or two. The result would not be pleasant.

Compounding this problem was the teen's obvious inclination towards getting noticed. Shauna, like Evelyn, was not cut out for the conservative small-town mentality. She clearly desired to live her life 'on the edge', as Evelyn had at her age. The more experienced woman's intuition told her "Shauna Kay Brennan", good little girl from West Bumfuck, would not be nearly enough to satisfy her youngest child. What to do?

Shauna was reaching the end of her rope. Officially, the school administration recognized 'Sean' as "gifted, but troubled" - after earning certifications in office automation, networking, operating systems, database administration and Visual Basic programming entirely on her own initiative. Unofficially, 'he' was a "fag", "fairy", "sissy", "homo", "little gay boy", and "geek" to the other kids in school. The desperate boy-girl dreaded the thought of enduring another year of abuse from the same old tormenters. Worse, she felt she could no longer turn to her sister for emotional support. Sharon's inability to grasp Shauna's situation at school made her part of the problem, not part of the solution. What Shauna dreaded most was another year of living a lie; the same ghastly nightmare of getting up each morning, donning clothing she loathed, hiding the feminine body and persona of which she had become so proud, and pretending to be someone she no longer was and wished to God she had never been.

Evelyn could hardly ignore the fact the problems with her younger child were far from over. Where her rehabilitation had been steadily improving, now they had taken a turn for the worse. Granted, the concerned stepmother wasn't the ideal June Cleaver model mom; business required much of her attention. When she did seek out her children, Shauna was withdrawn, moody, irritable, or just not there. Sharon altered between anger and tears over her sister, confiding Shauna all but "bit her head off" if Sharon even looked at her the wrong way - whatever 'way' that was.

Still, the older woman tried. She brought home dinner - spicy Thai, a family favorite - one Thursday night in early May. Sharon was delighted to see her - and famished. When asked about Shauna, she shrugged her shoulders, avowing she hadn't seen her sister since morning. 'Sean' hadn't been on the late bus, but her bedroom door was closed and Sharon thought she had heard noises from within.

Evelyn went to the bottom of the stairs and called Shauna twice. When she received no response, she mounted the stairs, went to her daughter's door and knocked.

"WHAT!"

"Honey, I have dinner on the table."

"GO AWA... I... I really don't want any right now, thank you."

"Shauna Kay Brennan, get your butt down to the dinner table right now! I haven't seen you in three days and I am invoking my parental right to see my baby's bright, happy face and hear her tell me how much she loves and appreciates me!"

There was a long pause.

"I... I'll be down in a minute, Mom."

It was more than a minute. Evelyn wished it had been a LOT more. 'Sean' slowly entered the dining room. His hair was a mess. He was still dressed in his school clothes - or what was left of them. He sat in his chair, gingerly, placed his napkin carefully in his lap, lowered his head and just stared vacantly at his plate. No words were spoken; none were necessary. The tracks of his tears were clearly visible, as were the black eye, split, swollen lip, and multiple bruises. Evelyn and Sharon just stared. Even that was too much for the distraught boy-girl to take. In a blinding blur of motion, his napkin slammed down on his plate and he was out the front door, the sounds of his wracking sobs vainly trying to keep pace.

Before Evelyn could move a muscle, the telephone rang. She took it in her study. It was Emma Carson, the school librarian. Evelyn put it on the speakerphone, leaving her hands free to rub her temples.

"Ms. Rossi, I'm sorry to bother you at home. I probably shouldn't be calling at all. Principal Baines told us to keep our mouths... well, I just had to know if Sean was all right. Did he file a police report? I really think he should."

"A POLICE REPORT? WHAT FOR?"

"Oh, my, he didn't tell you? There were six or seven of them, waiting outside the library door for him to come out. I recognized them from the football team. Ask Sharon; she knows their names. They follow her around like puppy dogs. There was nothing I could do to stop them. I called the police as soon as I saw what was going on, but everyone was gone before they arrived. Sean is such a sweet boy and works so hard in his studies. He's just a little... different. Oh, my, he's not in the hospital, is he?"

Evelyn assured her, no, Sean wasn't in the hospital and everything would be fine. Breaking the connection, she wondered if anyone would be able to assure HER everything would be fine. The Principal had instructed the librarian to keep her mouth SHUT? THE BASTARD! Sharon was standing in the open doorway. She had obviously heard it all. Evelyn just glared at her. The elder sister opened her mouth, then closed it. Twice.

"I didn't know. Honest. How could I?"

Before Evelyn could say a word, the phone rang again. This time it was Claudia Rafferty. Evelyn thought it would be a good idea to put THIS call on speaker as well.

"Evie, what the Hell is going on in that town of yours?"

"Apparently, you know more than I do. I used to think I knew everything that went on here. I'm now finding out I was wrong."

"DEAD wrong if you're not careful. Where is Shauna? Is she all right?"

"She, uh, just ran out. I was about to go after her."

"You'd better. I got a call from her just as I was about to leave the office. I spent an hour and a half on the phone with her. After she hung up, I was so shook, I couldn't even dial your number."

"What did she tell you?"

"She was MOSTLY INCOHERENT the whole time. Between the sobs, I managed to get she was jumped by a half-dozen of your finest local Neanderthals."

"Was she... raped?"

"I couldn't tell. I was only able to understand about every third or fourth word. You said she ran out the door. You don't keep a gun in the house, do you?"

"No, of course not. I... she wouldn't HARM herself, would she?"

"She might, but I was more worried about something else. You know how we say abuse is a learned behavior? If an adult was abused as a child, there's a good chance he will become an abuser himself?"

"Yes. So?"

"SO, much of how we deal with our emotions, particularly in times of stress, is learned from our own experiences. Now, think about HER role models for 'stress management'."

"OH... SHIT!"

"Yeah, 'oh, shit'. Here is what I want you to do. Hang up the phone. Call someone; Police, Coast Guard, Boy Scouts, Ladies Auxiliary, whatever you have in that miserable excuse for a community, and FIND HER! Once you have her home - SAFE - call me on my cell. We can decide what to do from there."

Evelyn did as she was instructed. She noticed Sharon had disappeared. As she dialed, the distracted stepmother thought she heard the girl in the bathroom, losing her dinner. Evelyn would have joined her, but she had another daughter to find....

In the end, no one found her, despite the considerable resources Evelyn brought to bear for the search. The distraught parent had been coordinating the effort from her home. It had been two mostly sleepless days since Sean/Shauna had bolted out the door into the night. Evelyn had gone to the kitchen to get ice for one of her rare highballs (she really needed one at that point). The child was there; dirty, disheveled, standing at the counter, munching from a stack of Ritz crackers. She eyed her stepmother without the slightest trace of emotion. She merely stood there, chewing slowly. Sharon entered the kitchen behind her stepmother. Spying her sister, she gasped, stretched out her arms, and advanced towards the boy-girl. THAT elicited a response. The wretched-looking waif started backing away, until her back was pressed against the far wall. The terror in her eyes was unmistakable. The back door was two steps to her left - and still open.

Evelyn's hand moved like lightning. She seized the elder sibling's arm, halting her in mid-step, then pulled her back. She took her eyes off the terrified child only long enough to utter one terse command.

"GO!"

Sharon looked stunned. She beheld her sister once more, tears welling up in her eyes. She nodded slightly, turned, and dashed out of the room. The two, parent and child, beheld each other warily from opposite sides of the kitchen. For one of the few times in her adult life, Evelyn Rossi was at a complete loss for what to do or say. Shauna decided for her. Popping the last cracker in her mouth, she peeled herself away from the wall, and walked slowly, cautiously, across the room, skirting her startled parent by a wide berth. She made it clear by her body language direct human contact was the LAST thing she wanted. "Good night, Mom."

She didn't even turn around. She just walked through the door, up the stairs, and into her bedroom. The door shut with a quiet click. Evelyn, who had followed at a discreet interval, just stood at the door, not knowing what else to do. On one level, she couldn't help but admire the girl's pluck. Evelyn hadn't just called 'somebody' to carry out the search; she had called EVERYBODY. Somehow, a distraught seventeen-year-old trauma victim had eluded the considerable resources Evelyn had brought to bear for two days, then appeared in her own kitchen as easily as you please. Sharon joined her stepmother outside Shauna's door. A thin strip of light seeped under the door and reflected on the shiny hardwood hallway floor.

They heard the water splash in the tub, followed a few seconds later by the activation of the showerhead. The water ran for a long time, punctuated by an occasional splash. The shower ceased at last. There came a faint metallic "tink" as a towel was pulled from the rack. A few minutes later, soft footfalls made their way across the bedroom floor, followed by the rustle of bedclothes. The thin strip of light went out; then, nothing. Sharon and Evelyn just stared at each other for a moment. They turned on their heels and went their separate ways; Sharon to her bedroom, Evelyn downstairs to her study - to call Claudia.

Evelyn and Shauna were on the plane to New York the next morning. That it was 'Shauna' was beyond a doubt. Her face was made up - not a lot, but noticeably - and her freshly-washed hair had been brushed until it glimmered. She had done her best to camouflage the damage to her face. She smiled, weakly, spoke when spoken to, but mostly just stared... elsewhere. Sharon had desperately wanted to accompany them, hold her sister, something. Both she and Evelyn knew that was impossible until they had a better idea of what was going on inside Shauna's head - and why she had reacted so violently to the mere sight of her sister. As it was, the trip would merely be a 'turnaround' for Evelyn. Claudia wanted time with Shauna alone. The girl would be staying at a shelter for battered women on West 63rd Street, where Claudia stashed her other crisis victims. She would be well cared for - and watched - when she wasn't in session with the deeply-concerned psychiatrist. Evelyn's sole mission was to see Shauna arrived safely. Then, she would be back on the plane to Aurora. She would return to New York in two weeks to pick up her child and, hopefully, some answers. Fourteen days never passed so slowly.

"This is a mess!"

In all the years she had known Claudia, Evelyn had never known her to be anything other than cool, calm, and collected. She watched with concern as Claudia paced her office. If Claudia was worried, so was SHE.

"Thank you for that keen professional insight. Now I can return to Aurora a happy woman."

"If I could, I'd keep you right here - and Shauna with you."

The doctor stopped short at mid-room, smiling ruefully.

"Sorry. I guess that wasn't very professional of me, was it? It's just that it's been so long; you, me, Nora.... They were good times, weren't they?"

"The best. I understand why you wanted to stay in New York. We missed you."

Claudia gazed at a spot on the floor, lost in reverie, then re-focused on the problem at hand.

"All right, here it is. I'll start with the good news."

"The GOOD news?"

"I think so. I was as surprised - shocked - as you are now. 'Shauna' has become a much stronger, more resilient personality. She meets or exceeds all the criteria for Title Five of the Benjamin Protocols; that's the Real Life Test. By the time she is eighteen, she will be ready for Title Six; that's surgery. At least, she WOULD be if we could proceed with the RLT. The biggest problem she faces is the inability to live full-time as a female. Damn that town you live in! I know better than to ask if you would consider moving. Your business is not exactly portable, is it?"

Evelyn smiled wistfully and shook her head.

"I understand. It took a long time to get to where you are. You can't just walk away from it all. And strong as Shauna is, she is nowhere near ready to deal with New York or L.A. on her own. Dammit!

She resumed her pacing.

"OK, here's the bad news. 'Sean' is slowly killing her. More precisely, the fallout from the shootings, plus everyone else's current perceptions of - and reactions to - 'Sean' are killing her. He and the recurring trauma he evokes are like this big weight around her neck. It is bending her over farther and farther and eventually will break her."

"What happened to her two weeks ago?"

"To HER? Nothing! That's the point. We have been exceedingly lucky - if you want to call it that - all of the evils that have been visited upon this child have happened to 'Sean', not 'Shauna'. He is like a big lightning rod, deflecting harm away from her - towards himself. She knows about them, and agonizes over them, but they haven't touched 'her' personally - yet."

"All right, what happened to HIM two weeks ago? Was he... raped?"

Claudia pursed her lips and nodded.

"Repeatedly. The rape kit wasn't able to extract any usable trace evidence because of the long delay and the shower he took. Given the number of assailants, the relatively limited extent of the trauma to the surrounding tissue - and I stress RELATIVELY - suggests they at least used some kind of lubricant, possibly K-Y."

"But the librarian said everyone was gone by the time the police arrived."

"They were. They dragged him off to the locker room. Evidently, there wasn't much of a search. They took their time with him."

It was Evelyn's turn to purse her lips. She gripped the arms of her chair so tightly, her knuckles turned white. Claudia noted that - and knew what it meant from long-ago experience. She spoke her next words quietly.

"If it means anything to you, 'Sean' is accepting full responsibility for this, just as he did before. I don't think it's a Martyr Complex. I think he is... protecting 'Shauna'. He doesn't want any of this to touch her. He was almost successful. She knows about it, certainly, and it is causing her a lot of pain. To her, it's like watching her brother get beaten up for her - and there is nothing she can do about it. In another time and place, I would call 'Sean' a real stand-up guy."

Evelyn thought about that a moment, then slowly nodded her head. She eased her grip slightly.

"What does all this have to do with Sharon? Why was Shauna so terrified of her?"

The doctor stared at the floor again. She returned to her desk, sat down, and clasped her hands on the desktop before her. Knowing "Evie" Rossi as she did, she wanted that massive buffer of oak between them.

"While they were raping him, they told him Sharon wouldn't 'put out' for them. She told them to find some slut who actually liked that sort of thing. They told him they took that to mean her little gay boy brother."

Evelyn was out of the chair like a shot. Claudia reared back in her chair, expecting the worst. Instead, Evelyn wheeled on one foot and... just paced. Claudia Rafferty honestly believed if her friend had been a male, she would have put her fist through the wall.

"Those... sick... FUCKS!"

It took a minute for Evelyn to regain her composure. She resumed her seat, pulled it forward, and clasped her own hands on the desk. Claudia recognized the peace offering as such, breathing a quiet sigh of relief.

"Okay. How do we help Sean? Obviously, he won't ever set foot in that school again."

"That is not even an option. We don't help him. We CAN'T. That's out of our hands now."

"What do you mean?"

Claudia leaned forward and covered Evelyn's hands with her own.

"I mean, that kid has been through a personal Hell that no one should have to experience in a dozen lifetimes, let alone seven years. Do you remember how I once described 'Shauna' as an escape route? Now, she is a lifeboat. 'Sean' is sinking. He is no longer a viable personality. Whatever he had left to give, he gave to her. If we are going to save 'Shauna', we have to cut her loose - and let 'Sean' go. We need to distance her from the past and any negative associations with it. If I had my druthers, I would blank her memory right now, move her to a new home, possibly a new city, burn every shred of boy clothing, maybe even change her name. I would rather have her struggle with who she IS than who she WAS."

"Why the scorched earth? Couldn't we just achieve the same effect by letting her live as Shauna? Another school, certainly. Wouldn't those memories fade in time?"

The psychiatrist slowly shook her head.

"Remember I said 'Sean' was ALMOST successful in shielding 'Shauna' from everything that happened to him? This time, SOMETHING GOT THROUGH. There is now an indelible physical and emotional link between 'Sean' and 'Shauna'. As long as it is there, and she knows where it came from, there is a direct connection, like a doorway, to all the memories that are destroying them both."

"Can't you just suppress it through hypnotherapy?"

"I don't dare; not THIS one. If I do, I might damage her development as a woman. It is that powerful, that primal. The best I can do is redirect it to another perceived source; classic displacement therapy. In order to have any hope of success, we have to remove 'Sean' from the equation completely."

"What IS it?"

Claudia paused for a long moment, marshalling her thoughts. Her voice barely broke the stillness.

"While 'Sean' was being raped, when all those cocks were pounding into him, one after the other, 'Shauna' liked it. Not the pain, violence, and humiliation done to her brother; the act itself. God help us; she has a taste for it now - and she knows she got it through him."

That gave Evelyn much food for thought.

The idea had actually begun tugging at the back of Evelyn's mind while waiting to return to New York to pick up Shauna. It had been tantalizing, yet unthinkable. Gradually, it beckoned like a siren's song. She jotted down some notes, then searched her personal records, made some telephone calls, pulled some strings and called in a few favors. It COULD be done. Then, Claudia had confirmed her worst fears. At the same time, her old friend's analysis had reinforced her own notion that the 'unthinkable' plan had suddenly become her best option. She was certainly the one who could make it happen. That realization elated her. The question was, SHOULD she?

To do the job right, she would have to indoctrinate the girl into a lifestyle she almost certainly had never imagined. Shauna had shown tantalizing little hints that she might be receptive, but Evelyn would need a whole lot more than hints and glimmers before she would be willing to commit herself - and her daughter - to the plan. The process itself would be involved, potentially dangerous, and brutally final; once begun, there would be no stopping and no turning back. Evelyn grieved at the thought of subjecting her own little girl to it. She had no doubt it would be successful - if the girl was strong enough. Claudia thought so and Evelyn fervently hoped her friend was right. Even if she was, the Shauna they had known and loved would be lost, possibly forever. Evelyn took solace in the knowledge that, if she did not do this, Shauna would certainly be destroyed completely; pummeled by her personal demons, then ground to dust under the wheels of a cold, intolerant society. Anyway, it wasn't like Evelyn hadn't done it before....

Evelyn enlisted Sharon's help. She had to have it. Although she considered them both her daughters, Sharon was Shauna's only remaining blood relative. It would be unthinkable to do this without the elder sister's tacit approval at least. It would also require Evelyn to reveal to Sharon information about herself, her life, and her work that few living people were privy to. For that, SHARON would have to be strong.

The elder sibling went through her own Hell as her stepmother detailed the plan. First, she had to endure Claudia Rafferty's assessment and revelations. Sharon didn't make it to the bathroom this time. If her stomach was not yet in enough turmoil, she next had to digest Evelyn's 'background information' - from which the concerned parent had carefully withheld any reference to the girl's own mother. The same thoughts and fears Evelyn had already faced now daunted her daughter - magnified a hundredfold by her lack of the older woman's life experience. She realized, as her stepmother had, this might be her baby sister's only chance for anything but a life of torment and misery. Sharon also knew one fact better than anyone; however this turned out, it was all the result of a little boy's total, unwavering devotion to his big sister. That thought would haunt 'Big Sister' the rest of her life. In the end, she could do no less for him - or HER.

Sharon pledged her unwavering, unconditional support for the plan. She had been ready to go to college in the fall. She deferred her enrollment, electing to take a Nurse's Assistant job Evelyn had hastily arranged at the hospital, enabling the elder sister to stay home and assist Evelyn in Shauna's 'rehabilitation'. She had long since given up playing with dolls, but had never outgrown her fascination for dressing up her life-sized, living 'Barbie'. She had her misgivings about Evelyn's strategy, but would see it through for Shauna's sake. The final pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. Armed with her elder daughter's endorsement, Evelyn briefed a few key players and leveraged certain others. On the Friday of Memorial Day weekend, she played her opening gambit.

The family grilled on the patio that Friday evening. Evelyn and Sharon sat down with Shauna over bratwurst, baked beans and potato salad to discuss her accomplishments and future. Evelyn acknowledged how proud she was of her younger daughter; despite everything, the girl persevered. She expressed her deep sympathy for the young girl's torment, caught as she was in "gender limbo". They would arrange for her to make up her final exams over the summer and find a different school for her to attend in the fall. Until then, she would enjoy an extra-special "Summer Vacation". Since Shauna would be out of school and working every day at the hospital, why not spend the entire summer as a girl? Her stepmother and sister were entirely supportive and, if done correctly, she would 'pass' easily. The problem was, she would have to assume a completely different identity. No one outside the family would know who she really was; otherwise, her 'cover' would be blown and her life in Aurora would become even more of a living Hell. Shauna had no problem understanding that.

The answer was, she would become 'Shauna Carlisi', Evelyn's niece from New Jersey. It would be alleged the teen temptress had grown up way too soon, made some bad choices; gotten involved with a local street gang and dropped out of school. The gang had fucked with her head, made her do things no good girl would dream of doing. The New Jersey authorities had intervened and sent her out of state, away from the gang's influence. Still, it would be a long road back for the girl. She couldn't be expected to lose all her bad attitude right away - if at all. Even in Aurora; there might be some setbacks along the way.... That way, at the end of the summer or if it all got too overwhelming, 'Shauna Carlisi' could disappear without a trace and 'Sean Brennan' could reappear for school. But maybe, just maybe, if it all worked out, it would be 'Sean' who would disappear - and 'Shauna' would be able to stay permanently. The more detail Evelyn revealed, the wider Shauna's eyes got.

Shauna was floating on air the entire weekend. The three of them were inseparable that long holiday weekend; two movies, a theme park, restaurants, reveling in the simple joys of being a family. Together, the three created memories that would last a lifetime - at least, for two of them. The two cherished every moment, knowing it would be a long time, if ever again, the three of them would be together and this happy.

They began Tuesday morning. A "day of beauty" at Evelyn's favorite salon resulted in a whole new 'look' for the all-too-willing teen. Narrow, artfully crafted, high-arched eyebrows and long, curly eyelash implants highlighted her made-up face and plush, ruby lips. Her copper-colored tresses were layered, then permed, yielding a shoulder-blade-length mane of full, fluffy curls. And she had nails; a full set of long, curving acrylics, polished crimson to match her lips. Each earlobe had been double-pierced and the piercings bore gold studs. An afternoon of shopping garnered a new wardrobe to compliment Shauna's provocative new image - and something else.

On cue, Sharon had suggested Shauna would look really hot with a tattoo. Evelyn had known of Sinful Skinful, the tattoo parlor on Taylor Street and offered to take them there. Sharon was enthusiastic; Shauna had tittered nervously. The siblings had heard whispered rumors about Taylor Street and its forbidden delights, but had never dared venture there. Evelyn parked her car in the city garage two blocks farther down Taylor. They walked the short distance back, passing a dance club, adult bookstore, and what was very obviously a huge 'gentlemen's club'.

The two storefronts immediately adjacent to the tattoo parlor caused both sisters to stop dead in their tracks and gape in awe. The signs above their doors read "Fantasia" and "Altered Ego", respectively. The former's display windows featured mannequins in risque lingerie and dresses, shod in high-heeled platform sandals. The latter's windows revealed an amazing assortment of erotic fetish garments, footwear, bondage gear and accessories. Evelyn promised she would return with them one day soon to peruse the shops' wondrous wares.

Once within the walls of the tattoo emporium, the enthusiastic Sharon had opted to have a blue dolphin scribed on her own left ankle. She chided Shauna that a tattoo was de rigueur for the younger girl's new 'look' and offered to help her select the right one. The elder sibling had perused the walls filled with sample art and had spotted the dragon. It was superbly detailed, but long; it would extend from Shauna's ankle almost to her knee. Evelyn had recalled there was a Union City street gang named "The Dragons" which used that mythological beast as their emblem. It had been their practice to mark their 'bitches' with a tattoo just like that one, that other gangs would know the girl to be Dragon 'property'. Evelyn had mused the intricate body art - and a juicy bit of gossiped 'explanation' in the right ear - might indeed be just the right touch to sell the authenticity of their 'Jersey Girl' to the people of Aurora. Shauna could not resist their subtle persuasion, nor the 'bad girl' image such a marking would give her.

While the two girls endured the bittersweet torment of the needle, the experienced and worldly-wise Evelyn enthralled them with details of the world of adult desires, pleasures and thrills to be found along Aurora's nine-block-long 'Sin Strip'. The expanse might not be Hollywood Boulevard, the attractive woman asserted, but it would certainly do for the area's consenting adults in search of a 'real good time'.

Taylor Street did not intersect Main Street's brightly-lit shopping Mecca as though, by some grand design, it had been meant to be hidden away from genteel society. It began at Third Avenue on the east and extended west to Front Street, ending at the adjacent railroad tracks. One block north of the corner of Taylor and Front was the Amtrak station.

The 300 block of Taylor Street featured a corner convenience store, a used bookstore, a pawnshop/electronics store, Sinful Skinful, Altered Ego and Fantasia. The latter two shops were actually one business enterprise connected by an archway in their common wall. Fantasia was a specialty store featuring lingerie and clubwear, which catered to exotic dancers or women who wanted more provocative clothing than they could find at the major retailers. Fantasia also carried high-heeled pumps, sandals, and boots by Two Lips and other specialty labels. The store had recently initiated a made-to-order lingerie and clothing service catering to dancers and others who had been surgically 'enhanced' beyond the range of mass-market sizing. Altered Ego was "The Dark Side of The Force"; a nod to fetish/Bondage and Domination clothing, footwear, restraints and "toys".

The north side of the 400 block featured Elysium, the biggest, most notorious 'gentlemen's club' in the state. The girls who danced at Elysium were stringently selected from among the most beautiful, sensual young women this side of Hollywood. In fact, more than one had used her success at Elysium as a springboard to a successful career on the West Coast. The girls who danced at Elysium made fabulous money in tips and "extras", such as table and lap dances as well as couch dances in the VIP rooms. Consequently, jobs at the club were a highly-prized commodity. Even jobs as waitresses or hostesses were difficult to obtain because the owner promoted from within when looking for new dancers. Adjacent to Elysium was Peepers, an adult book video, and novelty store. Across the street from Elysium was the club's valet parking lot.

On the north side of the 500 block, in a converted warehouse, was Empire, a trendy, two-story dance club frequented by attractive young singles from all over the county. The club featured upstairs and downstairs bars, a huge dance floor with risers for club dancers and others who just wanted to show off. Throughout the upper and lower levels were small, dimly-lit nooks holding a single table each. These hideaways were perfect for intimate tete-a-tetes between consenting adults, enhancing the club's reputation as a "meet market" (although some preferred an alternate spelling). Aside from the ambience, Empire's featured attraction was its gorgeous waitresses and club dancers. Girls who wanted to work at Elysium often opted to get a job at Empire, establish a 'presence' - and wait.

The entire south side of the 500 block was a multi-story city-owned public parking garage where patrons of all the local businesses could park their cars and walk the short distance to the shopping or entertainment venue of their choice. The construction of the garage in that location had caused a furor in Aurora. The conventional wisdom held that the garage should have been built along the Main Street Shopping Mall, where parking space was at a premium. Yes, it was stipulated, the three Taylor Street entertainment venues, plus the surrounding merchants, were a gold mine for Aurora in terms of tax revenues. Yes, the lot was always filled to capacity during the prime evening hours - but what about the prime shopping hours? Where were the shoppers supposed to park? In private, it was agreed a few key palms in City Hall and the City Council had been greased to ensure approval of the project.

It was said, Evelyn continued, Elysium, Peepers, and Empire were all owned by the same unnamed entrepreneur. One of the persistent rumors was that this tycoon was a front man for the Mob, that an East Coast "family" had expanded into the hinterlands to tap into the universal appetite for vice in places where local law enforcement was less sophisticated about - or hostile to - organized crime. That would explain the local businessman's seemingly inexhaustible cash flow, consequent clout with the city of Aurora, and ability to remain anonymous so long. The rest was sour grapes for the coupon clippers and a boon for people of deeper pockets - and desires. Of course, Evelyn cooed, if the patrons of either club wanted to do more than drink, dance, or watch, there were other options....

The rest of Taylor Street was Warehouse Row; a bustling center of shipping and commerce during the day, but largely deserted at night. At the corner of Taylor and Front Streets was the Railway Inn, an independently owned and operated motel. It had been built at the beginning of the 20th century as a rest stop for train crews and travelers. It still served in that capacity, although the volume of both had dropped precipitously as train travel had fallen out of favor with the general public. The Inn had gone through the predictable cycle of deterioration and neglect.

Then, it was alleged, it had been purchased by the same shadowy entrepreneur who owned the entertainment complex up the street. The new owner had invested considerable time and money in rebuilding the hostelry from the ground up. The twenty-four modernized units featured new furniture, indirect, dimmer-controlled lighting, plush carpeting, inner-lined curtains, pillow top mattresses, remote-controlled color televisions with VCR and interactive capability, free HBO and pay-per-view adult channels. The Presidential and Imperial Suites each featured wet bar, stocked, pay-per-serve refrigerator, steam and sauna booths, whirlpool spa, DVD/5.1 channel home theater system with 42-inch plasma viewing screen and air-adjustable mattress.

Thus refurbished, the Railway Inn was ready to perform its new mission; as an elegant, discreet, no-questions-asked getaway whose rooms were available by the hour, night, weekend or whatever. The Railway Inn played host to countless couples desiring a romantic getaway. It also saw the occasional "nooner" or more leisurely "afternoon delight". The bulk of the motel's business came from single men - at least, 'single' for the occasion. That was not to say they remained companionless. If a guest desired a 'hostess' for his personal entertainment, he had a number of options.

A directory for the Elysium Entertainment Network appeared on a special closed-circuit channel on the television in each unit. The list was populated with dancers and waitresses from Elysium and Empire, as well as a number of independents. The system was computerized, encrypted, interactive and updated in real-time through computer consoles and a sophisticated voicemail system. If a girl wanted to work, she dialed the access number from her cell phone, logged in with her PIN code, then selected the menu option identifying her as "On Call". Her name and thumbnail portrait would automatically be posted to the directory. A guest could use his interactive console to click on a girl's name or thumbnail to bring up a larger image, plus the girl's profile and 'specialties'. If he wanted to 'date' the girl, he would click on the Select button. His billing information would be taken automatically from his room registration, an authorization code would be displayed on the view screen and a text message would be sent to the girl's cell phone with details about her 'date'.

When the girl arrived, she logged into the voicemail system, selected the "Conference" option, then keyed in the authorization code given her by the date. The fee charged for her services was automatically posted to the room bill as "Catering Services" and her directory listing was updated to "In Conference". Any subsequent requests for her services were posted to her mailbox. When the 'date' was over, the girl logged into the system, checked her mail, then went "On Call" or to her next date. When she decided she had worked long enough for that evening, she selected "Off Duty" from the voicemail menu. Her listing was removed from the directory, her totals were automatically tabulated and the House's forty-percent split was deducted. The girl could then report directly to the Cashier's window in Elysium for a cold cash payoff before going home. Wear and tear to the room, if any, was added to the date's bill.

Girls with 'regulars', those who advertised outside of the EEN directory or those who did not work at Elysium or Empire could elect to work "In Call", renting the room themselves by the hour or night. They could work on a strictly cash basis, paying the room rent and pocketing the rest, or allow the motel office to handle the financial transactions for a fifteen percent "administrative fee". That way, the girl could avoid the often-awkward necessity of "getting the money upfront" and concentrate on the more pleasurable aspects of her profession. If the patron's fee was charged to a credit card, it was discreetly billed as a "motivational seminar". Deductions and payouts were handled in the usual manner.

An outsider who had not yet established herself with the Management had to front a damage deposit to cover wear and tear on the facilities. Unlike 'fly by night' operations, this money was returned if the room was undamaged. Outside girls could establish themselves by signing up with EEN at the motel office, work either "In Call" or "On Call" and avoid paying the deposit at the same time. The rationale was, once the girl signed up, the Management would be able to find her if needed.

There were safety features built into the system for the girls' protection. Each room in Railway Inn had a "panic button". If the date turned out to be a freak, the girl had only to hit the button to summon help fast, no questions asked. The rooms also had closed-circuit video surveillance in case a 'date' got out of control in a hurry. More than once, a girl had been saved from grievous injury when a very large, no-nonsense man had come out of nowhere and taken down an abusive paramour who had prevented the girl from summoning help.

Finally, if a man could not find the kink he desired within the Entertainment Directory, was not registered at the Railway Inn, or just preferred to do it the old-fashioned way, he was welcome to seek out his 'angel' among the many girls who habituated the shadowy sidewalks of Warehouse Row. The accommodations, services rendered and financial arrangements could thus be conducted on a strictly personal basis. Frequently, the Railway Inn (or "The Rail" to those who knew it well) was the destination of choice for these dates as well. Even the 'street girls' preferred to have the additional security of the "panic button" in those comfortable rooms.

It was a well-planned, well-executed enterprise and it worked. In most circumstances, everybody won; nobody got hurt. In the rare instances where someone did not play by the rules, the built-in safety mechanisms resolved the situation without creating a public scene. Police harassment was not an issue, even for the 'street girls'. Whatever public hue and cry might be raised about the "scandal along Warehouse Row", no girl had been sent to jail for a sex-related offense in Aurora since the clubs opened. Again it was rumored that money changed hands regularly to keep the enterprise running smoothly. So ubiquitous had the Railway Inn become with the local sex trade, the 'working girls' - and those who patronized them - referred to their nightly proclivities as "riding the Rail".

The two teens just stared at their stepmother, mouths agape. They were awed by Evelyn's detailed knowledge of the local sex trade. They had never asked their surrogate mother about her sex life, nor how she spent her frequent evenings away from home; now, they had their suspicions. When asked, Evelyn just shrugged her shoulders a little and smiled.

"Oh, you know; if you are around long enough, you hear stuff."

The three women left the tattoo parlor and walked towards the parking garage. Both newly-marked girls eyed Elysium, Peepers, and Empire with a newfound sense of wonder. One continued her gaze farther down the way, summoning images of bold, provocative prostitutes prowling the darkened, deserted street, flaunting their bodies, offering the promise of illicit pleasures of the flesh. It was all she could do to tear her eyes and thoughts away as they turned towards the garage entrance. Her attention - and the obvious motives behind it - did not go unnoticed.

That evening, Evelyn and Sharon sat down with the newly-transformed Shauna to watch one of Evelyn's guilty pleasures: The Sopranos on DVD. Almost immediately, Shauna was transfixed with the character of Adriana La Cerva, and how much she now resembled a red-headed version of that character. Noting the impressionable young girl's reaction, Sharon and Evelyn winked at each other. Afterward, they chatted animatedly about the show. "What did you think of Adriana?" Sharon inquired. "God, I think she's hot," replied the excited young girl. "I can't get over how much I look like her. Especially now." She fluffed her curly mane with her crimson-taloned fingertips for the umpteenth time, still disbelieving how good she looked and felt. Evelyn joined the conversation.

"I dunno. Adriana is a 'Jersey Girl'. She's tough, ambitious, street-smart, manipulative, flashy, provocative - only one step removed from being a slut. That doesn't sound like you, Shauna. I mean, yeah, it would be the perfect compliment to your 'cover story'. No one would suspect a thing. Still, I just don't think you could get into the mindset - not enough to be convincing. I should know; I've always been a 'Jersey Girl'."

Shauna's eyes sparkled at her stepmother's subtle challenge.

"That is VERY me. That is exactly the kind of woman I have always wanted to be. You just watch. I will get so good at it, even I will think I'm the 'real deal'."

The other two glanced at each other knowingly. Evelyn smiled at her youngest child.

"I'm not so sure. I think it's just a figment of your imagination."

Shauna froze instantly, as though someone had hit her "Off" switch. Evelyn glanced towards the doorway.

"Okay, Claudia. She is ready for you now."

The psychiatrist entered the room and sat next to the entranced girl, studying her face and testing her responsiveness. In a moment, she nodded approvingly.

"We can begin immediately. You know, it's been a long time since I made a 'house call'. This is the first time I ever made one by private jet. Before I get started, are you sure this is what we want to do? I mean, REALLY sure? Yes, this is exactly what she needs to move on with her life, but... to this extreme...."

Evelyn was quietly reassuring.

"Yes, Claudia, Sharon and I have thought this through. We agree with you; this is EXACTLY what she needs if she is to be a whole person again. I am only sorry we had to wait this long to help her. She is close enough to her eighteenth birthday that we can at least get started. As for 'this extreme', well, the farther we can distance her from her past, the more likely she will be to recover. YOU told us that."

"I still think so - and this will definitely fill the bill. It goes without saying, I could lose my license for this."

Evelyn touched her old friend's arm gently.

"Only if someone finds out about it. No one ever will. I PROMISE you that. I will update you regularly on her condition, and you can see her anytime you like."

Satisfied with Evelyn's answer, Claudia Rafferty turned her attention to the most challenging 'recovery' of her career. Sharon watched with rapt fascination. Evelyn looked on with serene confidence in a good plan that was coming together. She hadn't actually lied to her old friend to obtain her cooperation. If she had committed a sin, it was one of omission. Well, maybe she HAD exaggerated a little about the "see her anytime" part. That might be a little problematic....

"Shauna Carlisi" made her debut on Monday, June 7. The 'buzz' around the hospital about the "new girl on Three" had begun immediately. Some of the rumors were based on information Shauna had revealed to one or another co-worker in idle chat. Others were fueled by juicy tidbits Evelyn had let slip to carefully chosen gossips. That the new girl was from New Jersey was beyond a doubt. Evelyn had been thorough to a fault, providing Shauna with birth certificate (St. Joseph's Hospital, Upper Montclair), Social Security card, and New Jersey State Identification card (with current photo), all in the name of "Shauna Kay Carlisi".

Even without seeing her identification, no one had a doubt about the young girl's origins ("With that accent - and that 'look'? Are you kidding?"). One of the junior staffers had said he thought she had been a patient of one of the doctors upstairs for some time. That opinion was dismissed offhand; a girl like that would have been clearly remembered by everyone. One nurse, married to a local cop, revealed a routine inter-department inquiry to the Union City Police Department had returned a 'rap sheet' - for solicitation. When the significance of the dragon tattoo became public knowledge, her former (current?) gang connections were dissected in detail. Subsequent rumors confirmed; her gang had 'whored her out' to earn money for their drug and weapons buys - and to alienate her still further from friends and family, solidifying their control over her.

One rumor held her gang had also strung her out on drugs for the same reasons. That rumor was hotly debated and ultimately debunked. First, she would never have passed the drug test required as a condition of employment. Second, she looked too damn good to be a junkie. That observation set the women against the men as to how a girl like that could possibly be described as "looking too damn good." People weren't even sure how old she was. The guesses ranged from sixteen to twenty-two. Each new revelation polarized the gossipers further into two distinct camps: one that labeled the girl 'a slut' and the other that called her a 'stone fox'. Predictably, the two sides split fairly evenly along gender lines.

Overtly, Evelyn deflected the spoken criticisms. She asserted Shauna's detractors should not confuse style for substance; the young girl was adept at her job where others had failed and she had not shown any indications of professional or personal malfeasance. Covertly, Evelyn fueled the rumors of Shauna's wicked ways, and that they were far from over. As the adroit administrator had surmised, with all the carefully-orchestrated disinformation and resultant controversy, no one connected the tempting tart to the beloved Nora Brennan's youngest child. Shauna's 'insertion' into Aurora's mainstream had been a complete success. Yet, there was so much left to do....

Although Claudia had returned to New York at the end of that first week of intensive hypnotherapy, Shauna's 'indoctrination' continued daily. Each morning, Sharon invoked her sibling's 'trigger phrase', then dressed her entranced 'Barbie' in a lacy underwired push-up bra, matching bikini panties, garter belt and stockings (pantyhose just wouldn't do for a girl like that - unless they were crotchless), some clingy, slinky, tight-fitting little dress or skirt-and-top combination and five-inch spike heels (Chunky heels? Skeechers? Fahgeddabowdit!). She directed the younger girl in the application of her makeup, chiding her for even the slightest subtlety. "You're a Jersey Girl now," Sharon intoned, "remember? 'Understated' does not exist in your vocabulary. Now, apply that shadow heavier. I want it really dark. Thaaat's it. Now, make that liner stroke nice and thick. Extennnnd out from the corner. Now the lower line. Good. Now, I want to see three full coats of mascara. No, Sweetie; use the Raven Red lipstick. Two full coats. Now, a coat of gloss over that. Prettyyyyy. What man would be able to resist kissing THOSE lips?"

The elder sibling delighted in 'pushing the edge' with her sister's appearance, outfitting and adorning Shauna more dramatically than Sharon herself would ever dare. In that, she took a certain vicarious thrill of living dangerously through her 'Barbie'. At the same time she made over Shauna physically, she worked on honing her sister's new, more daring personality. Evelyn had carefully outlined the traits Shauna should display. The elder sister worked on developing those qualities in her. Together, stepmother and elder daughter would reinforce those same traits in the evening session.

Shauna's was a 'total immersion' experience. There was never a question of her interacting in or out of 'character'. No conscious decision by the attractive young vixen was involved. After such constant, intensive re-programming, Shauna completely internalized the distinctive accent, speech patterns, mannerisms, and every detail of her 'life' in New Jersey. Aurora was OK, for her, but a little on the dull side compared to 'Jersey and New York. She adored her Aunt Evelyn and Cousin Sharon. She just wished her cousin cared a little more about her appearance. She was really pretty, but came across kinda... plain. Know what I mean?

Shauna developed a taste for something else she had learned by watching The Sopranos. Whenever she was home alone, she practiced the erotic body movements of the girls who danced at Tony Soprano's club. One evening, she entered the living room, clicked off the television, popped a CD into the CD player, and strutted saucily to the center of the room, clad only in a black, see-through nylon bodysuit, stiletto-heeled black patent pumps, and appropriately overdone makeup. She performed an impromptu "floor show" for her astonished family, ending in a "lap dance" for a totally-captivated Evelyn. Sharon and Evelyn applauded wildly for the young vixen's bravado. This was a completely unexpected development for the pair, but not an unwelcome one. The next day, the elder woman had a floor-to-ceiling dance pole installed in one corner of the living room, that her new 'pole kitty' could hone her skills.

Intent on discovering how far the ravishing redhead was willing to take this stunning new development, Evelyn introduced Shauna to her collection of X-rated films. The videos featured shameless sluts who made Adriana La Cerva look like a Girl Scout. The stepmother had considered giving the girl a hypnotic 'nudge' in the right direction, but none was necessary. Shauna took to this newest 'role play' enthusiastically. In the privacy of her bedroom, she practiced the techniques she had watched with the aid of one of Evelyn's dildos.

The line between real life and 'reel life' ceased to exist for the comely cocktease. It was like a waking dream, through which the proud, defiant jezebel slinked like a panther on the prowl. That Shauna's over-the-top appearance and personality were a Hollywood-inspired caricature was unimportant. Evelyn knew, firsthand, this 'caricature' was based more than a little on fact. More importantly, the only contact most people of Aurora had with New Jersey was the same movies and television shows that had been used to train Shauna; they would expect a girl from New Jersey with a checkered past to be that stereotype. Evelyn knew that, too. In fact, she was counting on it.

Evelyn was not disappointed. Shauna became the center of attention, for better or worse. Some, especially women, openly disdained her. They cynically called her "Sugar" and made lurid remarks about her appearance and imagined sex life. The 'trollop' didn't mind that at all. After all, hadn't she endured it all before from the 'bluenoses' back home? She found it gratifying to be lusted for by men again. It had been far too long; she had missed that special thrill she felt when she saw it in their eyes or the bulges in their pants as she strutted by. She had begun to give up hope, thinking these small-town boys were just too lame for a girl like her. The young vixen put an extra wiggle in her strut for their benefit. If she saw one she really liked, she would pause, bend over to smooth her stocking up her shapely leg, then slink on by. The teen tease would then look back over her shoulder, smile, and wink to make certain the boy got the message.

One definitely did. Lance Bartlett, a young plastic surgeon on the second floor, seemed particularly smitten with the starkly-alluring 'Jersey Girl'. She had noticed him right away, with his male-model looks and muscular physique. The tart had 'played him' every chance she got. He had finally shown up in Administration on some transparent pretext about patient statistics that, of course, only Shauna's expertise could unlock. Coincidentally, he had arrived while Evelyn was at her regular meeting of department heads in the conference room on the first floor. Shauna was alone with the handsome young surgeon. The doctor's close, personable interaction with the overdone office girl made it crystal-clear he was not there just to go over details on patient's records.

The nascent nymph had accepted his offer of a lunch date on that first meeting. She had turned eighteen two days before. While the 'party' with her cousin and aunt had been rewarding in its own way (at least they hadn't taken her to fucking Chuck E. Cheese's, for Chrissake), she was looking for a hotter 'celebration'. She believed Lance Bartlett would fill the bill nicely. She was greatly attracted to the handsome, charming young professional. They sat at a cozy table at the local trattoria (or what passed for one in a place like Aurora), sipping wine and oblivious to all but each other. In mere minutes she elicited from him deeper, more personal information than his own mother knew. Shauna learned that the earnest young surgeon's soul, like hers, held more twists than a mountain road. He wasn't just into 'bad girls'; Doctor Upright Solid Citizen had an industrial-strength Jones for sluts - the sleazier, the better. How typical! In the course of conversation, the subject had casually turned to 'working girls'. Again, he had responded favorably. Better and better....

When Shauna had obliquely referenced "girls with something extra", Lance Bartlett had trembled. A bead of perspiration formed along his hairline. Shauna swore she had developed X-Ray vision; she could SEE the raging hard-on in his pants through the wooden tabletop. The handsome surgeon professed his nearly-complete ignorance of, yet utter fascination with "girls like that", but never expected to meet one in Aurora. He regarded Shauna an incredible enough find for a place like this (she merely smiled and let him speak). His upbringing and exhausting regimen of schooling and internships had precluded indulging his fantasies. He was still a porn 'virgin'. He had spotted Shauna the previous week and nearly shot his load in his pants. He had seethed that entire week, waiting for the right opportunity to approach her when her aunt wasn't around. He wasn't about to let the hottest woman Aurora had ever seen slip away - or into some other guy's arms.

Shauna pressed her thighs together firmly, trying to contain her own excitement. Talk about a match made in Heaven! The fabulous femme fatale instinctively knew exactly which buttons to push to make this man her own. She seamlessly projected the persona of the undereducated-but-oversexed bimbo. He held her right hand across the table with his. In between sips of wine, the vixen lightly rested her left hand atop his right. She related, over one too many glasses of chianti, the details of her good-girl-gone-bad cover story. The tipsy-by-design tart subconsciously embellished the details of her 'life' with Evelyn's depictions of the working girls who plied their trade at the far end of Taylor Street.

Lance was mesmerized by the description of her life as a slut-for-hire on the mean streets of Union City. She had met her former boyfriend in high school, she revealed. She had never had a boyfriend before, hadn't really considered it. He had been proud of his affiliation to The Dragons. Roberto was good-looking, ripped, tough, and dangerous. He had brought the beautiful white boy around to meet his 'crew'. Roberto first introduced her to boy-on-boy love, then to the lurid, intoxicating world of T-girls. Roberto's 'girlfriends' had taught her about hormones and how it changed the way they looked - and felt - about themselves and their world. Roberto had told her how beautiful she already was, and how much better she would look after she went on 'mones....

She had felt so good about herself as her feminine charms developed. Roberto had been so supportive - and his cock felt so good inside her 'cunny'. She had been proud to get the dragon tattoo, to show everyone where her loyalties lay. Then Roberto had introduced her to Luis and told her to "be good to him". She had complied willingly to her lover's request. Then had come Tomas, then Jesus, then men who weren't even in the gang. She found out Roberto had charged these men to be with her. Soon, she was 'working it' on the streets with her 'sisters'; turned out by her gang-banger boyfriend.

Shauna's matter-of-fact depiction of her transformation from innocent boy to street-wise slut had exactly the intended effect on her suitor. He hadn't had a clue! His trembling and perspiration increased dramatically. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat more than once, obviously in distress from some unnamed something within his pants causing him discomfort. Shauna, far from the oblivious bimbo she pretended to be, decided to turn up the heat another degree or two.

The best part about the experience, the faux fille de joie professed, was that, once she got over the initial revulsion, she had really loved fucking for pay. The thrill of being out there, flaunting her body, making men desire her and pay money to have her had been more addicting than any drug. Ultimately, Roberto had turned on her. She had decided he was no longer man enough to satisfy her; she had to have others. She had flaunted that decision to him over the phone, wisely choosing not to confront him in person. Predictably, he had gone ballistic, vowing he would hunt her down and "off her".

At that point, she had seen the wisdom of taking an extended 'vacation' from her home turf. She was already on the Union City Police Department's radar screen. She opted to share what she knew about the Dragons and their operations. In return, she had been relocated to Aurora. She was trying to go legit, she avowed, but it was so damn hard. She had had NO ONE since moving to Aurora. There was a monkey on her back - and she needed to feed it....

While she spoke, she casually dragged one crimson talon across the back of her escort's hand. Removing her hand from his, she reached under the table and began massaging his inner thigh.

"The fact is, nothing in this life gives me greater pleasure than fucking one or more complete strangers for money, then coming home to my 'husband' to show him what a nasty little cunt I am. He then throws me on the bed, holds me down, plows his enormous cock into my cum-slick slit and fucks me stupid. All the while, he calls me Tramp, Bitch, Slut, Whore, Fucktoy, Cumcatcher, Joyhole, and every other cheap, demeaning name he can think of. It makes me cum so hard, I see stars. Does that sound like something you could get into... Monkey Boy?"

She smiled ever-so-slightly as the goosebumps arose on his arm. He was panting. She ever so casually blotted the beads of sweat on his forehead with her napkin. Under the table, she felt the massive, throbbing swelling in his crotch. She squeezed his manhood gently, gradually applying more pressure to rein in his passion. He was huge!

"...but, enough about me...."

She opted to change the subject, having already achieved her desired effect - and wanting him to stew a little while. She asked him to tell her more about his work. Lance revealed he was the first in the state to work with Permaplast, a new injectable body-contouring material. Permaplast injected as a viscous liquid and immediately began bonding itself to the surrounding tissue. After seventy-two hours, it was completely infused as firm, yet supple 'tissue' with a latticework matrix similar to collagen, but chemically and physiologically inert. It would not break down in the body as collagen did, nor cause the body to break down like silicone. Early indications suggested the new Permaplast might render implants obsolete; body contouring without surgery and the attendant recovery periods, scarring, and possible rejection.

It was Shauna's turn to have goosebumps. The ravishing redhead could see herself in his thoughts, envision exactly the future he had in mind for her. She embraced that vision whole-heartedly; it brought her to the brink of orgasm. She exchanged knowing glances with her date, willing him to take the obvious next step. They arose to return to work. The attractive young woman teetered in her high heels just a bit, exaggerating the wine's effect on her. Lance was by her side in an instant, steadying her in his muscular grasp. His body was RIGHT THERE. She could feel his heat, his hardness. Shauna felt so good, so natural, pressing her body against his, smelling the beguiling combination of his masculine musk and expensive cologne. She gazed longingly into his Baby Blue eyes. Imperceptively, she rubbed her pussy against his bulging crotch, erasing all possible doubt of her intentions. During the drive back to the hospital, Shauna's head was buried in her escort's lap. "So much for going legit," she mused, swallowing his man meat greedily.

They fucked wantonly, brazenly, anywhere and anytime they could get together. That he was aroused to distraction by her gender anomaly was a welcome "plus". Shauna amazed herself at the ease with which she manipulated her new lover into using her as a 'test subject' - or was it the other way around? She met him clandestinely in his office every few days to get "pumped". He used a long needle to inject quantities of Permaplast in precise patterns beneath the muscle of her chest wall, hips, and tush, just as implants would be placed. The procedure was performed on alternating areas of her body over the successive sessions. First, he would inflate her breasts. A few days later, he would do the hips. The following session would be her tush. Each targeted area received a week's recuperation to firm up completely before the next treatment. A much finer needle was used to enhance her lips and cheekbone areas.

The young surgeon became completely infatuated with his modern-day "Pygmalion" and her blossoming body. Shauna just didn't know how to say "no" when the mesmerized male offered to pump her "just a little bit more". She had learned long ago, as beautiful women do, her "charms" were a powerful tool, enabling her to have what she desired RIGHT NOW. In addition to the body contouring, Lance gave Shauna a blank check for trips to the beauty salon for hair styling, plus fills on her fingernails, and eyelashes. He showered her with other, more material gifts, too. Shauna was in Seventh Heaven. It felt wonderful to once again have a 'husband'. This one was far different from Roberto. Lance had a career, money, respect, a future. He pampered her lavishly - and all she had to do in return was something she would have otherwise done for free. That lesson was not lost upon the savvy young vixen.

In a nod to two of her lover's fetishes - as well as her own - a return to Sinful Skinful yielded pierced nipples, navel, and tongue. A Black Widow Spider was inked on her trim right ankle and a full, blossoming lavender rose on her left breast. When Lance inquired why she had selected a lavender rose, she coyly replied it signified the message she intended to convey to everyone: "love at first sight". "Actually," she purred, massaging his rapidly rising cock, "I meant to say: 'love AVAILABLE at first sight'. You're OK with that, aren't you, Honey? Wouldn't you like everyone to know I'm available - for the right price - to any man who sees me? Wouldn't you like to watch while I fuck some other guy for money?" The aroused surgeon bent her over her desk and fucked her furiously. She grunted and moaned loudly and urged him to fuck her harder, Harder, as he shot his load deep within her.

By August, the five-foot-five temptress had swelled from a demure B-cupped 36-22-34 to a prodigiously F-cupped 40-22-37 with dramatically-prominent cheekbones and full, bee-stung lips. Both Evelyn and Sharon had met, and approved of Lance. The pair were elated by Shauna's kid-in-a-candy-store embrace of exaggerated femininity. They agreed the provocative new curves did look good on the girl - in a trashy sort of way. 'Trashy', they gloated, suited their plan to a "T" - no pun intended.

Evelyn had overheard many of her female staffers cattily dissing "Sugar" when they were not aware the administrator was within earshot. Many of them were up in arms over the 'slut' in Administration, her ridiculously over-inflated proportions, and her sordid affair with Lance Bartlett. Evelyn detected more than a hint of sour grapes in their diatribe, noting these same women had expressed their own interest in the handsome hunk. The alluring administrator was smitten with the shrews' pet epithet for her 'niece' and its unmistakable connotations.

She and Sharon began calling their bountiful bimbo by that name. All the while, they feigned total ignorance of the girl's body-enhancement subterfuge. Instead, they made covertly catty remarks like: "our big girl has grown up so fast", "what man would be able to resist a girl like that?" and "you know, the more I think about it, that 'look' is way too tame for a fox like you!"

Shauna took that final remark to heart. A trip to the salon yielded a dramatic change. Her delicately-curving crimson talons extended more than one inch from the tips of her long, slender fingers. Her sparkling emerald eyes were framed above and below in thick, black fur, as prominent as any Las Vegas showgirl's. So, too, were the broad swaths of permanently-inked ebony eyeliner swooping outward well beyond the corners of her upper and lower eyelids. Her lip line had been etched in a deep claret, which defined and complimented her trademark Raven Red lips. Her areolas had been likewise tinted a bold Brown Sugar. As a final, dramatic touch, 'Sugar' had glistening, Raven Red sculptured toenails to match her crimson claws.

After fittings at Fantasia, the tempting trollop had an entire collection of custom-made bras and panties to fit her voluptuous new curves. Those curves would be indecently exposed in any one of two dozen new, custom-fitted dresses, mated with several pair of six-inch stiletto-heeled platform sandals to highlight Shauna's new sculpted toenails. Isis, the punkish, yet alluring blonde associate who had taken her measurements and fitted her lingerie, had gushed over Shauna's proportions.

"Oh, Honey! With a body like that, you are gonna drive all the little boys wild. Are you on at Elysium yet?"

"I don't have enough experience. So far, I'm only dancing in the bedroom - the Horizontal Mambo."

"Even better. A girl with THAT kind of experience can go far in this town."

Isis had been really friendly for the rest of Shauna's visit. As the redhead left the shop, she expressed her hope they would see each other again soon. Isis had winked and smiled.

"I'm sure we will."

Secretly, Sharon was stunned with the results of her efforts. She had pledged, and given, her unwavering support to Evelyn - but this.... Every day, she took in the sight of her 'Slut Barbie'. Sharon's own efforts were no longer needed; 'Sugar' was on auto-pilot. She was flying high on sensory overload. Sharon thought - hoped - the girl remembered her real name was Shauna, but she really wasn't sure. Sharon WAS sure little else remained of the little sister she had known and loved. She knew that had all been part of the plan, and had been expecting it. Yet, when faced with the reality, every morning and night, she felt a sense of unease. Perhaps what bothered her most was that 'Sugar' had evolved so fast, and so far beyond her, Sharon herself now felt like the awkward, backward 'little sister'. She didn't like that. She didn't like that the 'Shauna' she had adored was now living the fantasy of 'Sugar', the street-smart Jersey 'ho, failing spectacularly at her attempt to 'go legit'. It would only take one more little push to make the fantasy a reality. Sharon knew that 'push' would not be long in coming.

The torrid affair between the devoted doctor and his delectable doxy knew no limits. They attended a Thursday "Amateur Night" at Elysium. Conversation stopped dead as the salacious slut strutted haughtily to the stage front table on the arm of her man, head held high, titties threatening to spill out of her low-cut dress, tush undulating provocatively. After suffering through three unremarkable Mai Tai's and a dozen desultory performances, Shauna cattily observed she could dance better than any of the cows competing for the $100 prize. Lance challenged her to "put up or shut up". She smiled, leapt to the catwalk ahead of the next competitor and performed a blistering routine, both on and off the pole - to wild applause, wolf whistles, the $100 prize money and $50 in tips.

As they left the club, the lurid-looking lass was on an adrenaline high. As they stood on the sidewalk in front of the club, waiting for the valet to bring Lance's car, she turned to her escort, pressed her body against his and rubbed her leg up and down his inner thigh. Passing motorists honked and hooted, exhorting the couple to "get a room". Shauna's eyes sparkled at the suggestion.

"How 'bout it, Lover? My place is just down the street. I can show you a real good time for, say, $250. Are you...UP for it?"

She accepted the proffered amount with the practiced ease of her many months of implanted memories of the streets of Union City. She slipped the wad into her purse, then slipped into the passenger seat of Lance's Porsche. In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Twenty minutes later, they were registered at the Railway Inn. Shauna's heart pounded wildly. Shadows of her New Jersey 'past' blended seamlessly with Evelyn's description of Taylor Street's forbidden pleasures. That it was Lance's fantasy as well was icing on the cake. She surrendered herself willingly to the man, letting him have his way with her in any way he wished. He used her as his personal fucktoy. She adored being used by him in that way. He hammered every orifice savagely. She matched his fury, thrust for thrust. He came in buckets, again and again; in her 'pussy', her mouth, all over her face and breasts. She thundered through one climax after another, losing touch with her senses and sanity.

The four policemen were through the door in one blinding instant. Both lovers were allowed to clean up and dress, then were handcuffed and taken away in separate cars. Shauna was taken to the station, photographed, fingerprinted, then locked up. She didn't see Lance at all. She lounged in the holding cell with the resignation of a 'repeat offender'. Finally, one of the arresting officers opened her cell door and escorted the femme fatale down the corridor. She glanced over and noticed his nametag: "J. Calder". They reached a door labeled "Interview 1". Officer Calder opened the door and ushered her in. His partner, "T. Bowen", was already there. Shauna's newly-opened file, including a copy of her New Jersey 'rap sheet', lay open on the conference table before him. Being confronted with this evidence of her 'past' made it - and her present circumstances - all the more real.

Officers Calder and Bowen were very smug. They had videotape of her propositioning her 'trick' on the sidewalk outside Elysium. The tape plainly recorded her accepting cash. They had videotape, taken from the surveillance camera in the motel room, of the 'trick' fucking her brains out. They had the $400 they found in her purse. And she was "only sixteen...."

"Wait a minute! I'm EIGHTEEN and can prove it! Just give me back my I.D. and I'll show you!"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about the PHONY I.D. We'll just have to add Identification Fraud to your 'bill'. Honey, as far as the Courts are concerned, you are whatever we SAY you are - and we will make it stick! After all; you're only a Trannie. Who do you think they are going to believe; you or us?"

Slam-dunk; they had her for prostitution, sodomy, public indecency, deviant sexual behavior, the aforementioned 'identity fraud', and whatever else they could glean from the Criminal Code. They also had Lance for solicitation of a prostitute, sodomy, deviant sexual assault, and statutory rape. She would get jail time and probably be run out of town. He would be personally and professionally ruined, get a long, long time in prison, and probably become another inmate's 'bitch' - unless....

They quietly spelled out her option in detail. Comparing it to the alternative, "unless" didn't seem too bad. The first part took twenty minutes, with the comely concubine on her knees or bent over the table in the interview room. By the time she was done, both officers were thoroughly satisfied with her sincerity and 'credentials'. If the video camera was live, and she assumed it was, she could just imagine the frenzy in store for the records clerk - with all the demands for copies of the surveillance tape. The Boys in Blue would have a really good time for a long time to come.

The second part of "unless" was more involved and would require a major readjustment in her lifestyle and career plans. The teen tart didn't see that she had much choice, considering the alternative. Poor Lance! She couldn't allow him to go to prison for her. Not that she really minded 'unless'; far from it! They returned her purse and allowed her a few minutes in the bathroom to fix her face. Her wallet, and everything in it, was gone. She expected them to keep the money and knew she would never see it again. But her purse, and all her identification.... They escorted her to their parked squad car for the quick trip back to Taylor Street. She hadn't even been allowed her phone call.

They parked in front of the still-open Altered Ego and hustled the young girl inside. Isis devoured Shauna with her gaze, smiling beguilingly.

"We meet again. I'm just SO SURPRISED."

She turned her attention to the two officers.

"I have been looking forward to this one. She's going to turn a lot of trade. I have something that will be perfect for her."

She returned her gaze to the apprehensive redhead.

"Follow me."

It was not a request.

Isis led Shauna to a changing booth. "Strip," the associate ordered as she closed the curtain and vanished. The startled girl did as she was told. Ten minutes later, the associate returned with an armload of boxes and garments. She began by wrapping a heavy, steel-boned black patent leather demi-bra corset around Shauna's torso and fastening the front busk closure. Moving behind the voluptuous mannequin, the salesgirl began tightening the laces. And tightening. And tightening. And tightening. When, at last, she tied the laces off and tucked them out of sight, Shauna could barely breathe. She also displayed a perfect eighteen-inch waist.

The clerk slipped one hand under one of the teen tart's voluminous breasts and nestled it carefully in its bra cup, then repeated the procedure for its mate. Each heavily-underwired bra 'cup' was little more than a shelf with curved sides, tapering to a scalloped front with long 'fingers'. The net effect of the design was to lift Shauna's breasts high up on her chest and plump them together, proudly displaying her pulchritude. The exaggerated scalloped front was cleverly designed to cover her areolas, but allow her erect nipples and silver nipple rings to protrude between the center 'fingers', complimenting the corset's silvery hardware.

Motioning for the voluptuous vixen to seat herself on the changing booth's chair, the associate removed a pair of jet black, full-fashioned, seamed stockings from their box. Taking each in turn, the clerk bunched the stocking up to its toe, slipped it over Shauna's foot, then smoothed the stocking up her leg and thigh. Shauna stood once more, per a motioned command. Isis adjusted the stockings to make certain the seams were straight, then fastened the stocking tops to the corset's elastic garters. Next, Shauna was instructed to step into a black patent miniskirt, which the other girl snapped and zipped securely in place. The skirt was very short and very tight, exposing her stocking tops and a flash of creamy thigh.

The associate ordered the patent-leather-clad hussy to step into a pair of black patent ankle-strap sandals with platform soles and pencil-thin six-inch stiletto heels. Shauna had worn nothing but skyscraper spikes since the beginning of summer and six-inch platforms for several weeks. The new shoes were like second nature to her from the very first step. Her jewelry came next. Isis inserted one pair of three-inch silver hoops in the lower ear piercings, mated with a pair of seven-millimeter ball studs in the upper piercings; four silver neck chains, arranged in an elegant cascade; six oversized silver bangles on her right wrist; a broad, snug-fitting multi-strand silver bracelet on her left wrist; a slender silver chain double-wrapped around her trim left ankle. For effect, the salesgirl clipped another slender silver chain to Shauna's nipple rings, allowing it to dangle alluringly between her breasts.

The salesgirl then helped Shauna into an exquisite waist-length black patent motorcycle jacket, left open to highlight her charms. Several generous spritzes from a purse-sized spray of Obsession completed the 'package'. The associate transferred Shauna's makeup essentials, small styling brush and perfume spritzer to a slender black patent clutch and closed the flap. The magnetic clasp emitted a sharp "click" as it fastened. She slipped the clutch under the siren's arm, then clasped one elbow and steered the stunning strumpet into the shop. The tight patent leather outfit creaked and crackled appealingly as she strutted. Isis handed a plastic sack containing Shauna's clothing and shoes to Officer Calder. Shauna had not seen her purse since they left the police station.

"She's good to go. Not bad, if I do say so myself. Why don't you 'try her out' while I total the bill?"

The officers did exactly that, feeling up her magnificent body, then forcing her to her knees. She was made to unzip their pants, extract their newly-erect cocks and fellate them, right there on the shop floor, in front of a completely unfazed Isis. The sales clerk went about her business, closing the security gates across the windows and shutting off all but the night lights in preparation for the shop's midnight closing.

Shauna checked her makeup when she completed her latest task. The long-lasting lipstick Isis had applied was barely smudged. She repaired the minor flaws and applied another coat, then a coat of clear gloss to bring out the shine. Isis smiled bemusedly at the teen tart's insouciance, then handed her the bill. Shauna's heart skipped a beat. The total was well over one thousand dollars! Without her cash or credit cards, she had no way to pay the bill. Reading her thoughts, Isis smiled her most saccharin smile.

"Don't worry, Sugar. We'll just take it out in trade. Be back here tomorrow evening at Six. In the meantime, have fun with it!"

The officers grasped the patent-clad bimbo and steered her towards the door. She resisted, turning her head to speak to her 'wardrobe mistress'.

"B-but, what about panties?"

The saccharin smile became a sneer.

"Sugar, where you're going, they would just get in the way."

Her police escort hustled her outside. She expected to be tossed into the back of the squad car yet again, then whisked away to who-knew-where. She was shocked when then they released her. "Start walking," Officer Calder growled. The tantalizing trollop stared uncomprehendingly.

"Walk? Where to?"

Officer Bowen smirked, nodding his head down the street.

"That way."

"To do what?"

"You know what, Sugar. Girls like you ALWAYS know. Our watch ends at six; we'll pick you up then. With your $400 deposit, you will only have to make another $650 to pay off your 'bill'. You'd better have it; otherwise...."

Shauna was really beginning to hate words like "unless" and "otherwise". The memory of Evelyn's words, spoken months ago, came back to her now. It suddenly dawned on the alluring strumpet why no working girl had been jailed for a sex-related offense in Aurora in the past few years. The harlot DID know what she had to do. The thought thrilled - and daunted - her. Six hundred fifty dollars in six hours! Could she turn that much - what had Isis called it? - 'trade' in the time she had?

She began walking, hesitantly at first. As she set her sights and mind towards the shadowy recesses down the street, her gait became surer, more confident. Her magnificent mammaries jiggled sweetly as she click-click-clicked along the sidewalk, her hips undulating provocatively. A smile came to her lips as she slowed her pace in front of Elysium, allowing the men gathered outside to get a good, long look. The resultant wolf whistles and catcalls were music to the streetwalker's ears.

She had barely reached the 600 block when the first car caught up with her. She casually sashayed over to the window and thrust her boobs in the driver's face, as though she had been doing it all her life. In her mind, she had. She thrilled at the utterance of the words she had so longed to hear.

"Are you dating?"

"I sure am, Lover. Shall we go someplace more private and... get acquainted?"

"Sounds good to me. Hop in."

Shauna slid in through the open passenger door, closing it behind her. She slid across the front seat until she was pressed up against her 'date'. Her hand went immediately to his crotch, massaging the insistent bulge between his thighs. She could smell the intoxicating mixture of hairspray, perfume, fine leather and raging pheromones - the complex essence that was her. The succulent succubus knew he could smell it, too.

"What's your name, Sugar?"

She pressed her lips to his ear. They were alone, but these words were only for him.

"That IS my name; 'Sugar'. Now, tell me what I can do for you."

A fifty-dollar back-alley blowjob became the debauched debutante's introduction to 'The Life'. As far as her re-programmed psyche was concerned, it was deja vu; merely a reprise of her nights on the streets of Union City. The 'date' had pawed her body without talent for a bit before she got down to business. When he hadn't even blinked at her requested amount, she knew she could ask - and get - more from her next date. Even so, she gave this one his money's worth. Repeat business was a working girl's bread-and-butter.

It came as no surprise there were other girls working the length of Warehouse Row that night. Shauna sauntered over to introduce herself. The other girls had familiar names like Brandy, Jade, Crystal, Honey, and Selena. Only the faces changed. Then again, who was SHE to talk? They didn't bat an eye when she introduced herself as 'Sugar'. They were cool to the new girl at first. She was a bit taken aback by their street slang; it was a bit different anywhere a girl went. She worked hard to pick up the local idiom. It dawned on her the other girls were all Blacks, Hispanics, and Asians; she was the only white girl there - and a shapely, well-dressed (so to speak) white girl, at that. Even a year before, Shauna did not possess the social skills to break down the barrier between them. Now, 'Sugar' smiled her radiant smile and poured on her charm.

As she bantered with the other girls, her 'white trash' roots became undeniable. That she was also a T-girl, like some of them, also helped break the ice. As Sugar turned to talk to one girl, Jade, an Asian girl from New York, spied Sugar's dragon tattoo. She recognized it - and its significance - immediately. Sugar recounted the details of her life in New Jersey for her new friends. It was just as real for her as for them. She related how she had been banging her current 'husband' at "The Rail" (she had injected that bit of remembered colloquy to good effect) when the cops had busted them both. When she detailed her experiences of the last two hours, the other girls became more sympathetic. "So, you're one of Syd's girls now," observed Brandy, a tall, striking black girl, "just like us." Sugar was perplexed.

"Syd? Who's Syd?"

The ebony enchantress explained "Syd" was a pseudonym for the shadowy owner of Elysium, Empire, Peepers, The Rail - and Fantasia/Altered Ego, the Police, plus key members of City Hall and the City Council. No one at their level had ever met Syd or even knew his real name, but everyone in the Taylor Street sex trade worked for him, either directly or indirectly. As Sugar now surmised, all of her current companions had been 'recruited' by the cops one way or another and were required to make regular payoffs - otherwise.... The story was, Syd was from the East Coast, but no one knew that much about him.

Sugar related what Evelyn had told her, that Syd was 'mobbed up' and that his 'family' had staked out new territories in Small Town America, including Aurora. That explained the large amounts of cash and expertise at co-opting local officials that would have been required to make the Taylor Street sex trade, and support structure behind it, possible. The other girls were impressed with the new girl's grasp of 'the way things worked' on Taylor Street as well as the rest of Aurora.

The next couple of 'cruisers' shied away when Sugar set her price and stuck to her guns. She was beginning to doubt herself when she struck paydirt; an expensively-dressed man in a big black BMW who almost went through his own windshield when he spotted the exquisite siren and jammed on his brakes. It took Sugar all of thirty seconds to determine he was not a 'player'. Rather, he was a well-to-do married man who had become bored with his uneventful life and uninspiring wife and had decided to "take a walk on the wild side".

Sugar played the awestruck neophyte like a violin. In a heartbeat, she was in his car and all over him like a cheap suit. She brought him to the point of cumming with her lips and talented tongue, then kept him on the edge while she 'suggested' he take her to the Rail. There, she promised, she would take him around the world and back.

A short time later, she was encamped in a room in the Railway Inn for the second time that night. This time, Sugar was on a mission. His name was Bernie. He was enthralled with the stunning shemale. A huge bulge tented his slacks out before him. He had rented the room for the entire night, and knew exactly what he wanted. Sugar cupped the bulge in his pants with one taloned hand, then pressed her body against his. It was as if she had rung the dinner bell for Pavlov's dogs. He was all over her in an instant.

The spike-heeled hussy was almost as tall as her aroused paramour. He lifted her firm tush with both hands, grinding his crotch into her snatch. She devoured his mouth with hers, encouraging him to explore every inch of her body with his strong hands. After a few minutes of this bump-and-grind, the man could contain himself no longer. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed down. She needed no further urging. The sizzling strumpet sank to her knees before her 'Master', gazing up at him with undisguised longing. He unzipped his fly, releasing eight inches of turgid manhood. Sugar gently grasped her prize and softly, tentatively, licked the underside of its bulbous head. Finding its flavor more than agreeable, she circled the head with her tongue again and again. Her soft, swirling licks caused his eight inches to pulse with lust.

Her first gentle kiss to the tip of his cock evoked complete silence; the calm before the storm. She parted her lips ever so slightly. On cue, he thrust his cock forward; a little first, then more and more, deeper and deeper, harder and harder. Within a minute she was inhaling all of him, right down to the root. She did not hurry things. She was enjoying herself too much. She kept up her assault for twenty minutes, bringing him to the edge, then backing off.

Finally, he howled with pent-up desire, frustration, and lust. He picked her up, threw her on the bed, then jumped on behind her. She was barely able to pull herself to her hands and knees when he was on her, then in her. The force of his penetration stunned her. He slammed his spit-slick meat into her again and again. His repeated assaults stretched her out, made her more receptive to his furious assault. Receptive? In a few minutes, she was astonished to hear her own voice, imploring, pleading, begging the man to fuck her harder, harder! He spurted his cum inside her with a series of grunts. She screamed as she came, clutching the sheets tightly with her crimson claws.

She had him in a half-dozen different positions. She aroused him to the brink, held him there for several minutes of exquisite torture, then allowed him to slide back from the edge. She kept up his torment for more than an hour, until he was begging, pleading with her to allow him to cum. She did, but not before eliciting a promise that, in the future, she would be his only 'girlfriend'. He came deliriously. She smiled, waited a while for him to come down from his high, then helped him pull himself together.

Bernie had given her his vow. After the bliss he had just experienced, and in true neophyte fashion, he had no intention whatsoever of reneging on that pledge. Together, they drove up the street and parked in the garage. They walked from there to the all-night pawn/electronics shop. Even at that hour, there was a mixed group of people outside Empire and a number of single men assembled outside Elysium. Sugar was pure bravura for both, strutting haughtily on Bernie's arm just as she had on Lance's. Bernie bought his ravishing courtesan a digital cell phone and pre-paid the service contract. Together, they programmed their respective cells to speed-dial each other. That way, Bernie could be in touch with his demimonde anytime he had the urge - and she with him. That she would now be able to receive calls from other 'boyfriends' as well was a fact she did not feel the need to share with her erstwhile paramour.

The couple next traveled to the ATM. Bernie had blithely paid his concubine's requested $250 up front, but subtle persuasion by the delectable doxy convinced him a tip would be in order to demonstrate his appreciation. Of course, the tip would be a generous one....

Sugar sent Bernie on his way, happier than at anytime he could remember. She still had the keycard for the room at the Rail and made the most of it. Thanks to Bernie's largesse and a couple more successful 'dates', the elated girl amassed over eleven hundred dollars before dawn. She gave each of her subsequent 'dates' her cell phone number and instructed them to call her whenever they had the urge.

Sugar glowed. She had made the money she needed and then some. Best of all was the thrill of having sex with men she had never met, men who craved her the way a junkie craves a fix, and being paid for it. She no longer remembered the time, months before, when she had been shunned by her peers at school and elsewhere. She remembered only the streets - and her own desires. This was Heaven! Sugar knew from past experience not every night would be like this, but the realization did not diminish her inner glow.

Her 'handlers' would come looking for her soon, as promised. The other girls had already gone home. She awaited the officers alone on the corner of Sixth and Taylor, scant blocks from where they had 'turned her out'. Well, one 'gang' was about the same as another, she reasoned. She could have played it tough; flung the money at them and stormed away. A couple of her new 'girlfriends' had indicated they had that kind of adversarial relationship with their controllers. Sugar considered their situation carefully. Those two had been on the street for a long time - and looked it - and indicated not the slightest hope of an alternate future.

In spite of the thrill of the night just ended,the comely concubine instinctively knew the streets were not a good long-term career path. The teen tart vowed she would not end up another strung-out, burned-out 'ho and would do whatever necessary to avoid that fate. The most obvious 'golden rule' to follow was: "Never antagonize the people who can make your life a living Hell." Cops were cops, the world over; there was a better way to play the game.

They approached from the east end of the street, past Elysium and Empire. Officer Calder was driving. 'Sugar' slinked across the street towards them, sidling up to the driver's door. She opened it, seated herself across the startled officer's lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her body tightly to his and planted a searing kiss on his lips. As she did so, she raped his mouth with her eager tongue and wiggled her bottom atop his rapidly-rising manhood.

Recognizing the importance of 'equal time' between partners, Sugar broke her kiss and embrace, then turned and reached behind Officer Bowen's head with her right hand. Drawing him to her, she kissed him with equal fervor, granting him full access to her lissome body with his probing hands. After a discreet interval, she broke the second kiss, then opened her clutch. She extracted the pre-arranged wad of bills, counted out six one-hundred-dollar bills plus one fifty-dollar bill in full view of both officers. She added a second fifty with a flourish, intending for them to understand it to be a 'tip'. She folded the bills in half and stuffed the wad in the senior officer's shirt pocket. She flashed them her most alluring, come-hither smile and kitten's purr.

"So, Boys, how was YOUR night?"

Reaching again into her clutch, she flashed her keycard and flicked her eyes in the direction of the motel.

"You don't have to go home RIGHT AWAY, do you?"

Apparently, they didn't.

Looking back, Shauna realized she had fucked or sucked seven different men in one night. The cops had stayed over an hour. While one had fucked her shemale pussy, the other had fucked her mouth. Then they had switched places. They came. And came. And came. So had she. It changed their attitude towards her. It changed her, as well.

They drove her to an apartment building on Seventh Street, a couple of blocks north of Taylor. The officers escorted her up to a one-bedroom apartment on the third floor. The place had a queen-sized bed, dresser and nightstand, a good-sized walk-in closet, a kitchenette with refrigerator and stove, and a bathroom with tub and shower. It was not The Ritz, but it was roomy enough. "Make yourself comfortable," Jim Calder said. "You'll be staying here for a while. We'll bring your other clothes by later. Meanwhile, get some sleep. You are going to have a busy week. Naturally, I won't have to warn you about calling someone to come and get you. We will be monitoring your cell frequency." With that advisory, they departed.

Sugar wasn't really surprised that they already knew about her new cell phone. She had guessed they were watching her closely, and would for some time. The Dragons had done the same. She could bide her time and wait them out. She made two phone calls. The first was to the office to call in sick. The second was to Evelyn's private number at home to tell her not to worry, that she was all right but would be gone a few days. Sugar requested her aunt think of some good reason - a training class or something - to explain the girl's absence. She managed to peel off her outfit, then collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Sugar slept like the dead until Four PM. She drew a hot bath in the big, four-footed tub and slipped into the steaming water for a long soak. She arose from the tub, patted herself dry with a towel from the rack, then padded back into the bedroom. She was startled to find her closet and dresser drawers full. They - someone - had brought her other clothes. Not just the outfit she had been wearing the previous evening; everything Evelyn and Sharon had recently purchased for her.

Again, the young hooker was not the least bit startled by this latest invasion of privacy. Cops were cops; they went where they pleased, took what they pleased, lied as they pleased, and only apologized if they got caught - sometimes, not even then. She wondered how her aunt would feel about this flagrant invasion of her home by the local Gestapo. Sugar thought it best, for all concerned, if the woman did not know. She vowed she would make every effort to keep them happy, that she might spare the people she cared about any future hardship on her account.

The permanent makeup had made it so easy to paint her face; eye shadow, blush, fill in the lips with lipstick and gloss, fluff, arrange, spray the hair, and done! 'Sugar' was ready to hit the streets again. She elected to take a cab to her appointment at Altered Ego, arriving in plenty of time. As before, she determined to make the experience a positive one, wanting to get on Isis's good side and, by extension, Syd's.

The associate awaited her with a half-dozen new fetish outfits; calfskin, PVC, latex, and more patent leather. Each was more revealing, more sinfully seductive than the one before. The footwear that accompanied each outfit was equally provocative, designed with fetishists in mind and a perfect compliment to the outfit for which it was intended. Every stitch, shoe and boot molded and hugged her curves as though made especially for her. She said so to Isis. The blonde just winked.

"One would think."

Isis explained these outfits, in addition to what Sugar already possessed, would constitute her regular wardrobe for now. The exquisite prostitute had already been enrolled on EEN. Syd expected she would be kept busy by that business alone, but she would, of course, have the opportunity to hustle other business on the street during 'slow periods'. She would receive an 'allowance' from the money she made - about ten percent - until the clothing and apartment rent were paid off. Then, she would pay only her rent, plus forty percent of the 'take', the same as the other girls; the more tricks she turned, the more money went into her purse. She could work as few or as many nights as she wished, as long as she made her 'quota'. Rent included her utilities, so she would not have several smaller bills to pay also.

Because of her 'production' the previous night, Syd had instructed that Sugar have an 'open tab' at the two stores; she could buy or have made any outfit her heart desired. Payment would be deducted in the usual way. Ordering a custom job would be easy; "we already have your measurements." She had been put on the waiting list for a job at Elysium and Empire. Until then, she would be working On Call or freelance. Judging from the previous night, Isis had observed, that shouldn't be too much of a handicap....

Sugar took a cab back to her apartment. She couldn't help shuddering just a little. Had Syd... targeted her? At what point had she shown up on his radar screen? An even creepier feeling swept over her. It was actually... kinda flattering. She struggled upstairs juggling the full-to-overflowing shopping bags of clothing and shoes. She hung up the outfits and boots with the hangers provided, then labeled the shoeboxes with black permanent marker and stacked them neatly on the floor of the closet. She slipped out of her 'daywear' (what would be considered shockingly revealing clubwear by most other girls) and into a lipstick-red latex sheath with deeply-plunging sweetheart bodice and deeply-scooped back. Stockings and garter belt, a matching latex bolero jacket, evening bag, and patent platform sandals completed her outfit. Sugar touched up her lipstick and hair, spritzed herself generously with Obsession, and called a cab.

It was Nine PM; too early for 'trade' out on Taylor Street. She had the cab drop her off at Elysium so she could have a drink, watch the dancers, psych herself up for the evening ahead - and give all the boys a long, lingering look at 'the goods'. She was getting to enjoy the abandoned conversations and dropped jaws that accompanied her anywhere she went on Taylor Street. Elsewhere, the small-town mavens might glare at her disapprovingly, cluck-clucking scornfully. Sugar knew she wasn't about 'elsewhere'; this was her world, her time, her oyster - and she was going to SUCK IT DRY.

The red velvet rope parted for her like the Red Sea for Moses. It probably never occurred to the dumbstruck bouncer to ask for her ID. That suited the auburn-haired enchantress just fine; she no longer had one, anyway. Sugar arranged her luscious body on a strategically-chosen stool at the near corner of the bar, in full view of the entire room. A Mai Tai appeared before her like magic, a token from a gentleman admirer. This drink was full-bodied, flavorful and potent; nothing like its predecessors the previous night. She sipped the powerful cocktail and surmised she was already building up a 'following'.

The bartender complimented her on her performance the night before. Sugar was about to inquire how he could possibly have known, when it occurred to her he had meant her impromptu entry into the dance contest. She smiled, winked, and replied: "Oh, THAT performance." She thanked him coyly, leaving little doubt how she had spent the rest of her evening.

Each evening that week followed a similar pattern. Sugar would go first to either Elysium or Empire, usually the former. She would 'see and be seen', meet employees and patrons alike, have a couple of drinks, then make her way down the street to her 'office'. If she turned a 'date' in the club, so much the better. She determined early on she would not bring 'trade' home to her apartment. Each night, she either went to each date's room or sweet-talked one trick into paying for a room for the entire evening. After finishing him, she would use the room for her subsequent dates, or just relax for a bit in-between. She worked until Dawn, collected her 'allowance' (tips were a "perk", of course), then went back to her apartment and crashed until late afternoon.

Word got around quickly about the exquisite redheaded T-girl with the "bodacious Ta-Ta's and ass". Sugar had no idea so many local men were into transsexuals and said so. The bartender to whom she directed the comment replied they were simply into HER; the 'package' was merely a sidebar. 'Into her' they were. Each morning, the comely courtesan returned to her apartment feeling thoroughly, wonderfully, gloriously fucked - and she was getting paid for it.

She missed her 'husband'. She thought about Lance every day and regretted they had not had the opportunity to share the fantasy her life had become. She wondered if she loved him, or was just obsessing over something she couldn't have. She didn't see how the latter could be the case because she was getting more cock than she knew what to do with. No, there was something else with Lance. Tenderness. Caring. Real emotion. Commitment ("The 'C' word? Girl, you really do have it bad for this boy!")

She knew she had to call him, if only to leave a message. It would be tricky. If they were watching her, they would be watching him; he and Evelyn were the two she would be most likely to call for help. One evening, she called his office from a pay phone several blocks away. She left a message on the answering machine, alleging she was an expediter from an express package delivery company. The call was in reference to a package of Permaplast that he had reported missing in transit. She was happy to report the package had been found, intact, and would be routed to him at the earliest possible time. Each day she vowed she would call Evelyn and say... something, anything to explain her mysterious absence. She was certain her aunt and cousin must be frantic by now, wondering what had happened to the girl.

She did call in the morning before she went to sleep, when she knew no one would be home. She left a message on the answering machine, saying she was fine and not to worry. She didn't dare call when someone would be home. She knew she would break down and tell them something she shouldn't, and she didn't know if she was still being watched. She wasn't too worried about what might happen to her; she was a big girl and could take care of herself. She was more worried about what the mysterious "Syd" might do to them. Even though she suspected Evelyn might have some connection with "Syd" - maybe she even knew him - she sensed he wouldn't hesitate to make an example of ANYONE if he thought the situation warranted it. Sugar was not willing to take a chance with her new family's safety.

Weeks passed. The weeks turned into months. Sugar had long since paid off her initial debt to the mysterious "Syd" and started making really cute money. She expanded her wardrobe almost as much as her stable of 'regulars'. Her entry on EEN had become the most responded to of all the girls listed. She had also achieved the singular distinction of being immortalized in the stalls of the men's rooms at both Elysium and Empire: "For a real good time, call Sugar at 555-3825". The curvaceous cumslut had turned such fabulous numbers for Syd's organization, she now had a standing reservation for The Rail's Imperial Suite any night she chose to work. The night manager had made her laugh one night by hanging a little sign on the door: "Sugar's Shack".

In addition to the split taken by Syd's organization, she made regular payoffs to Jim Calder and Tom Bowen in cash and 'trade'. She knew how to take care of the men who took care of her. They did take care of her, driving by her corner several times a night, chatting and making sure she was all right. It was kinda like one of her favorite movies: Someone To Watch Over Me. If Tom Berenger's 'Detective Mike Keegan' had been on the take.... Then again, Mimi Rogers had nothing on her.

She happened to glance at a calendar one chilly January evening as she was preparing to step out the door to go to work. She realized the school year was already half over. She wondered why that should matter to her; she had dropped out of school long ago, when she first began hooking in U.C. Her cousin Sharon had put off college for a year; Sugar didn't know why. Maybe she was just burnt out at the end of high school. Anyway, she should be knee-deep in the paperwork preparing for college by now. Perhaps that is why it had come to mind. Sharon might be a little out of it, style-wise, but she was a sweet kid. Would she be going to college next year? Sugar hoped so, and wished her well. As for herself, Sugar was superbly content with who, what, and where she was at that moment in her life.

She was different now, having grown - physically and mentally - from the naive 'Shauna' from Union City to the scintillating, seductive 'Sugar', the Toast of Taylor Street. To be sure, it was a much smaller 'pond' than New York/New Jersey, but she had become a big fish in it. True, the cops had cut her off from family, friends, and her 'husband', turned her out to whore for them and their mysterious boss, and used her as their personal fucktoy.

They had shown her a copy of her updated rap sheet, listing convictions for solicitation, prostitution, sodomy, deviant sexual behavior, even corrupting the morals of a minor ("Hey, the guy brought his SON; what was I SUPPOSED to do?"). All the 'cases' had been adjudicated by the same judge - a "regular" she had been set up with by Calder and Bowen. For all the judgments rendered against her, she had never once been arrested, nor spent a moment inside a courtroom. Why go through the formality and expense of a trial, they reasoned, when she was guilty of all those crimes and more?

She was still being watched, they advised. She was too valuable a 'commodity' to be allowed out of their grasp. If she left town, her 'resume' would be faxed to any and every law enforcement jurisdiction in the region and, if necessary, the nation. Everyone would know what a sleaze she was. Sugar wouldn't be able to get 'honest work' anywhere, ever again, so she might as well be content with staying right where she was and hooking for them.

Sugar thought this was all overkill. Where COULD she go? How could she get 'honest work' ANYWAY, even if she wanted to? She still had no identification, nothing to legally prove she was ANYONE, let alone 'Sugar'. Without it, she was effectively a non-person beyond her 'world' on Taylor Street. That simple tactic was a more effective 'control' than any surveillance or implied threat. She admired the elegant simplicity of it, and knew instinctively it was another example of Syd's ingenuity. She admired her shadowy 'boss' more and more. Perhaps, one day, she would even get to meet him in the flesh.

The hussy reflected upon her life as it had become. She was on a first-name basis with every bartender, bouncer, hostess, waitress, dancer, and hooker on Taylor Street. Every 'regular' knew her on sight, if not personally. If there was a party, she was invited to it. She didn't walk the streets as much as she had in the beginning; she didn't have to. The men were seeking her out. The Imperial Suite had all but become her 'Throne Room' where she reigned supreme - at Syd's sufferance, of course. She had fucked more men than she could remember, much less count, of every race and description, fucked them until every one of her orifices oozed their cum. Within her 'universe', she was a star.

Was it that bad? Was the prospect of 'honest work' so much better, she hated the thought she would be unable to return to it? Had her little job processing records at the hospital been so rewarding, so fulfilling, she would give all of this up in a heartbeat and go running back to it? No, but she did miss her husband - a lot.

Sugar needed a man then, needed one very badly. Why settle for one when she could have two at once? She waited impatiently on the corner for them to make their regular pass. The harlot literally flung herself through the open car window to get at her intended prize. By the time they pulled up in front of her motel room, her unpantied snatch was pointed high in the air and at Jim Calder's face, while Tom Bowen was unbelted, unfastened, unzipped, and unleashed into her mouth.

Sugar unlocked the door and ushered her two paramours inside quickly. She flung the door shut, threw Calder backward against it, and raped his mouth with her insistent tongue. She had his stiff, throbbing man-meat out of its cloth prison in moments and ministered to it with long, frantic strokes of her hand. At the same moment, Tom Bowen was filling her snatch beyond full from behind with his monster dong. They each spasmed, but the whore was nowhere near satisfied.

She grabbed her two lovers by their lapels and hurled all three of them onto the bed. Sugar alternately fucked and fellated each man over two hours, bringing each to a shattering climax, then making him hard again while the other hammered away at her shemale cunny. It ended when neither man was able to get it up anymore. Their cum gushed all over the sheets from her cornholed snatch. Whatever spunk she had not swallowed dribbled from the corners of her mouth. She had cum more times than she could possibly count - and the slut was content.

"Nicely done."

A lamp clicked on, illuminating the shadowy corner of the room. Evelyn Rossi sat there, a flute of champagne steadied in one hand, a coy smirk on her lips. Sugar's heart pounded. The exhausted girl could do little more than speak to her amused aunt.

"You were here? How much did you see?"

"Every urgent thrust. You were magnificent, Sweetie. Gentlemen, would you please give us the room for a few minutes?"

Calder and Bowen dressed hurriedly and exited. Evelyn continued.

"I was never better, even in my prime."

"YOU?"

The breathtaking blonde stood and strutted casually to her stepdaughter's side. She paused there, caressing the cum-soaked slut's cheek.

"Of course. That's why The Family sent me here. They knew I knew the business inside and out. With their help, I solicited the right 'cooperation' from the right people, then built the facilities and set the machinery in motion."

Sugar just stared at her, requiring a moment to fully comprehend the import of her words.

"You... are... Syd?"

Evelyn beamed.

"None other. You don't think we could have lived as comfortably as we do on a hospital administrator's salary, do you? That was a convenient 'cover' I adopted later on. In the beginning, I was just a 'working girl' with a head for the business. They let me bring my favorite girls with me, too; just to get things started. But you already know about that."

The confused cumslut stared blankly.

"I do?"

"Yes, Sweetheart. Your mother was one of them."

"My... mother? But she is back in...."

"No, Baby, she isn't. Your mama was Nora Brennan. Sharon is your sister. For the past seven years, I have raised the two of you as my own daughters. Think back. There was a little girl name 'Shauna' once."

Sugar's head spun with conflicting images. She could see Union City so clearly... well, no, she really couldn't, but she knew she had lived there, and her mother... she couldn't see her mother's face. But she COULD see the beautiful red-headed woman whose name had been Nora. That face looked so much like her own. She could see Sharon's face, too. But she had glimpses of a much younger Sharon, and that couldn't be, because Sugar had been THERE, in New Jersey, and Sharon had been HERE. But... Sugar had been here, too, except she was 'Shauna' then. They had grown up together in Evelyn's house. But, there had ALSO been a brother named....

The girl's sudden spasm was clearly visible. It was all there. Her childhood. Her mother. Her sister. The happiness. Then, the blood - and all that came after. She wrapped her arms around herself then, trembling like a leaf. In seconds, Sugar - no, Shauna - ran through the gamut of emotions from confusion, to awareness, to anger, to reflection, but not quite all the way to understanding. There were so many questions, but one image that leapt before them all. It was a photo of Nora Brennan - from her 'wild and crazy years'.

"Mama... dated?"

"That's right, Sweetie. She and I 'worked it' here in the beginning, just as we had back in 'Jersey. Then, she met your father - not on the job. She fell head over heels for him and decided to 'go legit'. She went to Nursing School, got the job with Dr. Harrison, the whole nine yards. I got the job as his office manager at the same time. He was one of our 'regulars'. I used him to establish my legitimate 'cover' and... well, I wanted to help your mother. I didn't agree with the choices she made, but she was the best friend I had ever had and I wasn't about to let her down. Nora made me promise not to tell your father any of it. I didn't - except for that one time...."

Evelyn's face clouded over.

"That was the biggest single mistake I have ever made in my life. I wish to God I had told the scumbag everything - BEFORE they got married. That way, he would have left and she would have eventually gotten over him. She might have hated me, but she would still be alive today."

The older woman's face brightened a little.

"At least, Nora left a legacy; two treasures I wouldn't trade for the whole world. Sharon will start college in the Fall. She has decided to go to Nursing School and follow in your mother's footsteps - at least, as she knows them. I won't tell her differently. She isn't like us. You are strong enough to handle your mother's past now; your sister isn't. Please let her have the illusion."

Shauna nodded solemnly.

"And then there is you. I knew from the start you were never cut out for a goody-two-shoes existence. You were too much like your mother and me when we were your age. They say the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree. In your case, you were twice-blessed; first Nora, then me. Oh, how I adored transforming you into the slut you were meant to be. I was worried you might never make the transition; no child should have to carry the emotional baggage you did..."

Shauna trembled again as she thought back on that darkest day of... Sean's life. She saw the flash, heard the pistol's report that left his ears ringing for days. She saw the blood - and her beloved mother slump over, dead. But... why should SHE be able to see it in such vivid detail? They weren't her memories; they were his. She hadn't been there. It was tragic, but there was nothing she could have done. What was it about her and her brother that had linked them together so intimately? She inhaled deeply and sighed.

"...but with love and the right therapy, the real you came shining through."

"Right now, I'm not sure who the 'real me' is."

Evelyn chose to side step that statement for the moment.

"Sharon sends her love. She hopes to see you soon - perhaps under better circumstances."

"She KNOWS?"

"Everything. She has been involved from the beginning."

Shauna bristled at that.

"EXCUSE ME? She can't handle her MOTHER being a whore, but she's OK with turning her SISTER into one?"

Evelyn bit her lower lip.

"No, she isn't 'OK' with it. In fairness, it bothered her from the beginning. It's been bothering her a lot more lately - especially when she learned of some of your... extremes. She is afraid we had gone too far. She did it because I asked her to - and because she really does love you and only wants the best for you. I feel exactly the same way."

"The best," Shauna echoed with a note of contempt. Evelyn's nostrils flared.

"That's right, the BEST! You might at least have the decency to hear me out before you rush to judgment. I didn't have to tell you any of this. I didn't have to be here tonight."

"I don't think you want to be campaigning on a platform of 'decency' just now."

That stung the blonde - badly. They eyed each other warily, like two wounded prizefighters, each looking for an opening. The silence hung thickly between them. Someone had to make a move.

"If it means anything, I love her, too. And you."

The stepmother's face softened at that.

"Yes, it means something. It means A LOT. I really needed to hear that again."

Shauna looked into her stepmother's eyes. Both knew what the next question would be - and steeled themselves for it.

"Why?"

"Why did I take your identity from you, or why did I give it back now?"

"Yes."

Evelyn stared at the floor. She had been dreading this moment. Even now, she didn't know how to say what she felt.

"For years, I have been the Mistress of my own fate. I am the one who pulled the strings, who made things happen. There was nothing I couldn't do - except heal my own child, who was in agony. I sought out the best advice I could find. I was told, in order to save you, make you whole again, I had to cut you off completely from your past, erase it from your mind, allow your personality a chance to grow strong and self-confident. So, I did what I always do. I created a plan, gathered the resources I needed to make it work, then put the plan in motion. To get what I wanted, I used people, manipulated people, co-opted people - not the least of whom was you.

The 'cure' was not without cost. I knew if I were successful, I would be losing my 'Shauna', the daughter I knew and loved, possibly forever. I was willing to take that risk to make you well again. Damn the torpedoes; Full Speed Ahead! Oh, I was so proud of 'Sugar'. She was everything I used to be, times ten. I bless the day Lance Bartlett's resume crossed my desk. When I interviewed him, I knew instantly he was just the right 'nudge' to push you over the top. And you, 'Sugar', are so VERY over-the-top."

The magnificent blonde gazed fondly upon her ward's lush body.

"I am so pleased with his work. It is exactly what you needed. Oh, may I say I can see why you were so taken with him? He is quite the lover. God, that cock of his! We 'consoled' each other over your disappearance and - well, you know how persuasive I can be. In spite of my seduction, he is devoted to you. I am constantly amazed by your resourcefulness. Apparently, you managed to get a message to him in spite of my best efforts to cut the two of you off from each other. It took all my powers of persuasion and some not-so-subtle blackmail to keep him from tearing the town apart looking for you. I told him I had been contacted by Syd's people and warned to stay away. He received a similar phone call. They also told him the charges against him had been 'misfiled', not dropped, and if he wanted to stay out of prison, it would be on Syd's terms."

"He still doesn't know about you?"

"He hasn't a clue."

"You AREN'T going to prosecute him, are you?"

Evelyn gave Shauna's hand a little squeeze.

"Of course not. I set him up in the first place. That was just more of my little gamesmanship."

"LITTLE?"

Shauna regretted the outburst the moment she spat the word out. Never antagonize the people who can make your life a living Hell. There were better ways to play the game. Before things got out of hand again, she continued in a softer voice.

"OK, you made me 'Sugar'..."

Shauna swept one hand between her stepmother and herself.

"... why this little scene? Why now? Why not just leave me the way you created me if you were so happy with the result? I was certainly happy enough, not knowing. Why risk an investment that is turning such big profits for you?"

"ARE you happy? Tell me about you. Tell me about your life - this life."

Shauna looked down, focusing inward, not outward.

"Yes... I AM happy. I like me. I like my life. I like the thrill of living on the edge. I like the sex. I like being the object of men's desire. I like... being a 'bad girl'. I know I won't want to do it forever, but right now, it fits me. Is that what you were looking for?"

"Almost. Tell me about Sean."

"I... can't. I mean, I know he was there. He was my... brother, my TWIN brother. He was there when Mama died. Later... God, some really awful things happened to him. He was in so much pain and I... I could feel it, too. He and I were so close, I could feel what he felt."

Big, fat tears started to roll down the girl's cheeks.

"This is terrible! God, I remember aching for him, wanting with all my heart to reach out to him, lend him my strength. Now, I close my eyes and try to picture him, but I can't even see his face. Is that wrong of me? What kind of sister AM I?" Evelyn couldn't believe her ears. In all the possible, conceivable permutations of this plan, she never dared hope for THIS one. Her mind raced to 'connect the dots'. She hugged the shaken girl then.

"No, Sweetheart, that is very, very RIGHT! This..." Evelyn swept her arm in an arc, indicating the room.

"... all of it, was about exactly that. You and Sean WERE twins. Like so many twins, there was a special bond between you. You could read each other's thoughts, feel each other's emotions. Poor Sean experienced so much pain, and he transferred that pain to you. He didn't mean to; he couldn't help it. Sean was hurting you, Baby. His sickness was becoming your sickness. We had to separate you, send you both away, make you forget each other and everything that happened before. This was... OK, THIS was me being selfish. I wanted to see if you were as much like me as I thought you were - and I was right. As I already said, I am so proud of 'Sugar'. I am also ecstatic that 'this' has helped you put the past behind you. The problem was, in all my machinations, I lost sight of the fact I am human, too. As much as I adored 'Sugar', I desperately missed my 'Shauna', my little girl whom I love with all my heart. I wanted her back. Sharon wanted her back. Even Claudia Rafferty was worried about you."

"Claudia? How much of a part did she...."

"Let's not even go there! We will just say, without her help, none of this would have been possible - and you would either be dead or institutionalized right now, just like Sean. Whatever sins I committed, I would not have allowed either of those as an option. I did what I did and I would do it again in a New York minute, every bit of it, if it would help my baby get well. The point is, I couldn't live with it anymore. I couldn't live with you not knowing who you were, where you came from, and that you had a family that loved you and wanted you back. I didn't know if I COULD reach you anymore. This time, there was no 'back door' for you to escape through. I only knew I had to try. I counted on the strength of your personality, the power of your memories - and the love behind them."

"What about Sean? Is he better? Can I see him?"

Evelyn suddenly felt very old.

"He's gone, Sweetheart. He was just too sick. We tried SO HARD, but we just couldn't save him. I'm sorry."

It was as though the older woman had just punched Shauna in the stomach. She clutched herself in her own arms and rocked back and forth, silently crying. Evelyn said the only words she could think of saying.

"Honey, what you and your brother shared was no different than two conjoined twins sharing one vital organ. It wasn't possible to save both of you. It almost wasn't possible to save EITHER of you, but we did try. We were lucky with you. Our luck ran out with Sean. I can't help him anymore, but I CAN help you. I want you to come home."

"Home. You mean, quit hooking."

"Well... if you want to."

"And do what? I can't exactly go back to the hospital - or school."

"I'll figure something out. I always do."

Shauna just stared at Evelyn as though she were an alien from another planet.

"Let bygones be bygones. Just like THAT?"

"Please, Baby, don't make this harder than it already is. I am reaching out to you. Are you sorry I did? Do you hate me that much? Do you want me to send you away again and bring 'Sugar' back for good? I can do that."

"You WOULD, wouldn't you?"

Evelyn reflected on that a moment.

"Yes, Baby, I would - but not for the reason you think. It's not about the money. It's not about the control. It's not that I take some sadistic pleasure in manipulating you like a puppet. I want you to be happy. I want you to be at peace with yourself and your life. God knows you and Sean found little of that growing up. If it takes turning you into 'Sugar' again to do that, if I have to lose my 'Shauna' once and for all, then that is what I will do. I will hate it - and myself - for the rest of my life, but I will do it. Is that what you want?"

Shauna's anger flared. She was sorely tempted to say "yes", just to cause Evelyn a little of the pain she herself felt. What MORE did she have to lose? Only her soul....

"No."

The answer had been so softly spoken, yet had steel behind it.

"Are you ready to come home with me?"

There was a long pause.

"No. Not yet. And 'Sugar' hasn't gone anywhere. She - I - am right here. When I told you I like my life, that was for both of us, speaking as one. I don't want to change that; not for a while, anyway. I like having memories again; real ones. At least, I hope they are real this time. I like being able to remember my mother, the way she was before.... well, you know. I like remembering Sharon is my sister. I like being able to remember my brother, even if I can't see his face anymore. I like remembering you have been as good and loving a mother to me as my birth mother was. Most of all, I like remembering I loved you and Sharon very, very much. I'm just going to need some time, after all of this, to remember WHY."

Evelyn Rossi raised her daughter's hands to her own lips and kissed them softly.

"I guess that is better than I had a right to expect. I can live with that - for now. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?"

"Yes. You can give me back my husband... you SLUT."

"Your husb... oh, of course. Perhaps it is time the two of you got... reacquainted. We'll call it a 'perk' for a job well done. Then again, I'm not willing to give him up COMPLETELY. We will have to work out some time-sharing arrangement. What are you going to TELL him?"

Shauna gently grasped her stepmother's arm and pulled Evelyn down next to her. She rested her head on the woman's shoulder and sighed expressively.

"I am going to TELL him THE TRUTH. I work for Syd now. Men are fucking me for money every night. I am making almost as much money as he is. I am addicted to sex. I can't give it up, won't give it up, don't want to give it up. I will ALSO tell him I love him like crazy and want to share it all with him."

She didn't have to see the blonde's face to sense the expression of utter astonishment.

"You can't POSSIBLY believe he will go for it."

"You mean, not like 'the most influential, connected woman in Aurora can't find her own little girl in a town this size and would be intimidated by lame threats made by some petty underworld thug'? I know my man. I think I can...PERSUADE him. Like mother, like daughter."

THEN Shauna looked up.

"PETTY?"

"Just a figure of speech."

Shauna smiled and winked. Evelyn returned both. It was like a silent signal between them. Mother and daughter had said all they wanted to say for now; the rest would be worked out in the fullness of time. It was time for 'Sugar' and 'Syd' to take the stage once again. Evelyn rose and turned to behold her proud, confident daughter. Gazing down, she sadly realized she HAD BEEN too late. Her 'little girl' was, indeed, lost to her forever. The equally-proud parent would get over her loss. Shauna was the first to speak.

"So, what about this 'criminal record' I now have? What if I WANT to do something else with my life later on, like Sharon?"

'Syd' smirked, carefully tracing one of Sugar's enormous breasts with an exquisitely manicured fingertip.

"Oh, why would you want to do THAT? This is where you belong; you and I both know that. I just...greased the wheels to make it all happen. I think I'll have to keep you here a while. You have turned into quite the little money-maker for me. I mean, just look at yourself. You have a comfortable place to live, a closet full of really sexy clothes, a great place to work, outstanding customer rapport, more income than girls your age dream of making, and..."

Evelyn nodded in the direction of the door.

"...your own personal security detail. Last but not least, you get all the sex you want. ROCK STARS don't have it as good as you. What's not to like? Keep up the good work, Baby Doll. I'll look in on you again soon."

With that, Evelyn was out the door. On her way out, she smirked at the two policemen.

"OK, boys, she's all yours. Take good care of her for me."

Out of sight, a long-suppressed tear finally made its way down her cheek. She didn't used to be this emotional in her dealings with her girls. "You must be getting soft in your old age, Evie," she muttered under her breath. Then again, none touched her as deeply and personally as 'Sugar' - none since Nora.

She hadn't been completely honest with the girl even then. Evelyn DID have a future in mind for her, one away from the streets. No one knew better than the experienced ex-hooker the frightening toll The Life could exact on a working girl, using her up far before her time. This girl had proven herself to be just like her mentor; talented, charming, resourceful, seductive, manipulative. Any girl who could adapt - thrive - as quickly as this one had, who could have Evelyn's two toughest 'enforcers' wrapped around her little finger after ONE DAY on the job, was destined for stardom.

Could the girl also be ruthless when she had to be? Evelyn cast a brief, unrepentant thought towards six testosterone-crazed, gay-bashing teenage rapists and their equally-homophobic Principal who had disappeared, one by one, over the past year. 'Evie' Rossi, The Family's trusted lieutenant in Aurora - a hot blonde with an even hotter temper - had been there each time. She had listened to their final, agonized screams - and relished every moment. How would 'Sugar' have dealt with them, had it been HER responsibility as a parent? 'Syd' had a pretty good idea - and the thought tantalized her. After some additional 'seasoning', 'Sugar' would move up; first, as a dancer at Elysium, later into Management itself. Perhaps, one day, she would take Evelyn's own place upon her retirement.

Evelyn liked the thought of that, of having created a legacy she could pass on to her own child, like any other proud parent. She certainly couldn't do that with Sharon. Evelyn knew her elder daughter loved her, as Shauna did. But this entire affair, and the revelation of 'Evie' Rossi's illicit empire had strained their relationship. Sharon just wasn't cut out for a life like that. Most people weren't. Evelyn was OK with that. She had another daughter who WAS - times ten. With Sharon going away to college in the Fall, the house would be an empty, lonely place for the first time in... nineteen years. Had it really been that long? Evelyn prayed Shauna would come around by then, come home to her - even if the girl wanted to continue hooking. 'Evie' certainly didn't mind THAT at all. Like mother, like daughter. They now had so much more in common - and so much to talk about.

There was nothing to be gained - and much to lose - by revealing the story of the real 'Shauna Carlisi' to her daughter. Her femme name had been Angela, not Shauna; the records had been altered on that point. She had been Sharon's age, the son-turned-daughter of Evelyn's own sister. Angie HAD been a Union City hooker, turned out by her gang-banger boyfriend. All the details of Shauna's cover story had been accurate - save one; Roberto had FOUND Angie. He was in Rahway now, awaiting the cold embrace of his next lover - The Needle.

In death, Angie had offered the gift of Life - and a second chance - to the cousin and kindred spirit she had never known. Certainly, Evelyn could have found another identity for Shauna, even invented one. She preferred to think this one was somehow pre-ordained. That way, it would give meaning to the short life and senseless, violent death of her sister's child, as well as the rehabilitation of her own. There had been too much senseless tragedy around her, Evelyn thought. Finally, she had a reason to HOPE.

Ultimately, Evelyn knew she would be called to account for what she had done to her Pride and Joy. What would she tell Nora when she saw her then? Would her best friend be able to dispassionately survey the human wreckage that had been 'Sean' and proclaim any fate was better for her baby than that? Or would she damn Evelyn for all time for this most ultimate betrayal? Evelyn couldn't begin to guess. Then again, one thing was certain: the girl had been 'salvaged' and become a functioning, reasonably well-adjusted human being - considering the circumstances. More to the point, Shauna was HAPPY with who she had become and what she was doing. Was it the perfect solution for this tragedy? Not even close. For now, it was a workable one - and the best the older, wiser 'Jersey Girl' could arrange. In the end, Evelyn could live with that. She would have to.

The latch had clicked with a note of finality, punctuating Evelyn's departure. Her 'security detail' had returned and was, even then, resuming their rightful place - as they defined it. 'Sugar' was once again immersed in the brave new world her guardian had created for her. The exquisite young trollop's head was still reeling from too much information. What was real? What was illusion? She had so much to sort out.

The girl took comfort in the newly-rediscovered memories of Nora, her beloved birth mother. Unlike her brother Sean, Shauna remembered the good times and a beautiful, vibrant woman, full of life, whom Shauna had loved with all her heart. There were equally joyful memories of Evelyn and Sharon. Did it really matter to her what they had done, or was she just inventing an excuse to be spiteful? She DID like her life, at long last - and they had made it possible. She was here, and this was now. Perhaps, as Evelyn had said, it was time to bury her brother and the past - and make room for an exciting new future. Her Lance would be part of that future; a very big part.

Sugar had no time to ponder what, if anything, she might have wished otherwise. Two throbbing cocks demanded her immediate attention....