The naked woman sat up on the bed in the dark motel room, taking a moment to balance herself as she stood unsteadily on her bare feet. The small amount of street light coming through an uncurtained motel window revealed that her body was coated with a light coat of sweat and her dark patch of pubic hair was matted with drying cum. She picked up the overnight bag that she'd placed on the room's single cheap vinyl chair when they first checked into the motel room two hours ago. She carried the bag into the bathroom, shutting the door hard, not caring if she woke the snoring man in the bed that she'd just vacated. Dropping the bag on the floor and squatting on the commode, she peed as she lit a cigarette. As soon as her cigarette was glowing, she poked through the bag, stirring up the clothes until she found the pint bottle of whiskey that had been hidden in the bag earlier. She broke the seal on the whisky bottle and removed the ever- constant cigarette just long enough to fill her mouth with a big mouthful of the whiskey. As the strong taste of the whiskey coated her mouth, she tilted her head back, shutting her eyes as she prepared to swallow the liquid. She was still slightly drunk from the alcohol consumed earlier in the evening but craved more of that devil's brew that she so enjoyed. Wiping herself quickly between the legs, she stood and stared at her messed hair and naked body in the bathroom mirror. Her smeared makeup made her eyes look garishly made up, and the bloodshot eyes from her almost constant drinking binges transformed her naturally beautiful face into a ostentatious- looking face that only a person into punk rock bands could appreciate. She'd quickly learned that it's hard work to be beautiful. Staring at her unattractive appearance, her eyes squinted as a curl of smoke drifted up from the cigarette dangling from her thickly coated crimson lips, aggravating her bloodshot eyes a little more. Over the last couple of weeks, she'd lost some weight and it was beginning to show on her - her face was looking a little gaunt and her skin was getting loose. The female body had always been naturally skinny, but the new Andrea's combination of constant drinking binges, not eating, staying out late in bars, and slutty, extremely promiscuous new habits were beginning to show - she was looking thin and a little burned-out. Over the last several weeks, the body had been subjected to an arduous lifestyle of booze, beds, cigarettes, bars, beds and more booze. The alcohol's warm fire burning in her belly restored some of her energy. Feeling the rush from the booze, she swallowed another mouthful, then stared at the image of the woman's body reflected back by the mirror. The ever-constant cigarette bobbed up and down in her mouth as she whispered out loud to herself "Andrea, my dear, you can't hold your booze. You're one cheap date. Why couldn't I have met someone like you when I was younger and needing pussy?" Laughing silently at her self-depreciation, she turned the water on, soaped up a washcloth and spread her legs, placing one foot on the commode. Standing in that position, she wiped the dried cum and slight drainage still leaking from within her, with the warm washcloth as if it was a natural cleansing motion that she'd done all her life. Staring down at her chest, she saw the first signs of a bruise forming. Although she'd told the man "No hickeys", the man's limited foreplay had been concentrated on sucking on her chest and neck as his heavier, stronger body kept her pinned underneath him. He hadn't been as good a fuck as she originally thought he would be. After all, he had the stereotype build and appearance that's synonymous with good sex and ideal male fantasies. He was suave, tall, dark haired, well-groomed, had a sparkling personality, handsome, and had the ultimate clue to his sexual performance potential - long fat fingers. They had met in a bar and although she was already a little unsteady on her feet from her alcohol intake, something invisible clicked as they stared into each other eyes from across the room. She felt that deep and very enjoyable itch develop in her groin as she sized up the man - that signal that her new woman's body needed a man's cock and this was the man. He had confidently eased up to the bar beside her, glanced down at her exposed cleavage and introduced himself with the simple suggestion that they go back to his motel room for a mutual grope session. It was the same thing Andrea was going to suggest, but she was going to play the shy woman role for at least thirty seconds first. She responded to his offer with a wink. Then the man offered to pay her to service him. For a second, she considered slapping him for mistaking her for a prostitute - she was no more slutty dressed tonight than normal. When she considered that she wanted to fuck him anyway, she rationalized her acceptance by deciding that two hundred dollars was two hundred dollars more than what she had now. She'd driven him back to his motel in her new convertible. He'd been a little worried from the way that she was somewhat unsteady on her feet and slurred her words, but she resolved any concerns that he might've had over her possible impaired driving ability, by hiking her skirt up and guiding his hand up between her thighs. Before she ever started the engine, he knew that she wasn't wearing panties and she got him to forget about her driving. At the motel, she found out the hard way that all that glitters isn't gold. He'd been a lousy fuck. Get undressed, get in bed, spread your legs, and here it comes was his style. Acting as if he didn't know the meaning of the word 'foreplay', he forced his hard but small cock into her and quickly shoved a small load of jism into her before her internal lubrication kicked in. This wasn't the first time in either of her lives that she'd participated in a thirty-second fuck. One of the old jail boyfriends from the days when she'd been Robert Williams, was notorious for pre-ejaculation, but there was a distinct difference between being a male or female recipient - her new female body wasn't satisfied with the quick slam-blam-snore type of seduction. As soon as the last spasm of jism trickled from this man's semi- hard cock, he rolled off of her just-getting-warmed-up body. Propping himself up on the pillows, he ignored her teasing hand and pleading voice as he flipped on the television set. Rolling over and digging her fingernails into the bedsheet as that deep itch still burned within her crotch, she thought about leaving him, but the gnawing crotch itch convinced her to decide to give him another chance. After all, a cock in bed is better than two cocks in a bar. Thirty minutes later, she admitted to herself that it was better the second time. Not much but forty-five seconds are much better than thirty seconds, she declared to him in a sarcastic tone. To entice him into a better performance the second time, she'd played with him, rubbing her body over his body, nibbling on his neck, tonguing his ear, sucking his flaccid cock and even probed his asshole with her tongue. But, he kept the television on and pretended to be more interested in the info-commercial. She grabbed the remote to turn the television off, resulting him getting a little rough with her - which she didn't mind as she noticed that he became slightly erect from his physical dominance of her. Changing her bedside manner to that of a misbehaving slut that had to be lightly punished, she soon had his small cock sticking straight up. Feeling satisfied with the change in his now-erect cock, she insisted on a little foreplay, but just as before, he revealed that his mutual sexual skills were extremely self-centered. Although he lasted a few seconds longer, her hungry female body still hadn't been satisfied. As he rolled off of her insatiated body after the second quick time, he curled up in a little ball in the middle of the bed and fell asleep. That's when she got up and went to the bathroom to pee and clean up. She didn't put the dress back on, but put on some jeans and a blouse from her bag that she'd learned to keep in her car's trunk for times like this. Looking at her face in the mirror, she noticed that her eyes were looking bloodshot and tired. Five minutes later, it was a different face reflected back from the mirror. In just a few weeks, the new Andrea had learned how to do a masterful makeup job with her new face and delicate features. The eyes now looked large and bright, accented with eyeshadow and mascara, her cheeks glowed with the blush of rouge, her lips were as red as cherries, perfectly shaped into a Cupid's bow pout. Satisfied with her face, she examined her profile as she brushed her lustrous hair. Andrea's hair was long, thick, and now a rich golden red color - a color that Robert Williams remembered had made the actress Ann Margaret stand out from the other women. A quick skillful touch of the brush and it was curling under slightly as it touched her shoulders. Her hands gathered her hair up and swept it up off the nape of her neck. Holding her hair up with one hand, she threaded a barrette through her hair and snapped it tight. Satisfied with her appearance, she slipped on a pair of tennis shoes. Looking at herself in the mirror, it looked like the old Andrea Bell, except for the different hair color. She strode into the bedroom, and turned the overhead light on, not caring if she woke the man up. As she packed her dress into her overnight bag, he woke up and rolled over. He lay on the bed and began playing with himself as he watched her. When she was packed, she picked up her purse and sat down on the bed beside him. "I've got to go. There's something else that I want to do tonight. You owe me some money." "Why don't you spend the rest of the night with me? We've still got some sex due me." he grinned sardonically as he stroked his cock. "Your exact words were - 'I'll pay you two hundred dollars if you'll let me fuck you'. I let you fuck me twice - using your interpretation of what it means to fuck - so you really owe me four hundred dollars." she smiled at him, using the same bland smile that she would give to a super market clerk. He changed hands, continuing his stroking as his other large, meaty hand wrapped around her small wrist. Holding her as he squeezed her wrist, he whispered "You're not going anywhere tonight and I'm not paying you a fucking penny. If you don't want your arm broken, you'll undress quickly and let me stick my cock up your ass." Her smile changed, as she cooed "At last you're showing that you've got some balls. I like a man that likes it rough. I was just joking about leaving. Let me do that for you." She shifted position on the bed slightly so that she was lying close to his very erect cock, while he continued to hold onto one of her wrists. She used her free hand to push his hand away from his cock and wrapped her small, slender hand around his cock as she continued the jacking motions on his cock. She slowly stroked his cock, letting her hand shift from the base of the shaft to the cockhead, then back to the bottom. After several slow strokes, she whispered in a very seductive voice "My hand's too dry. Let me lubricate my hand." She bowed her head over his cock, timing her approach to the downward stroke of her hand. Her mouth opened and her lips wrapped around his cockhead. As she teased his cockhead with her wet tongue, he groaned and released his grip on her other wrist. She pulled her lips away from his cockhead, a thin trail of drool dripping from her mouth, as her hand came back up, closing his foreskin over the wet cockhead. She repeated the downward thrust and the mouth lubrication, taking more of his cock into her mouth. As her hand slowly rose again on his shaft, she again pulled back. She whispered "Spread your legs and I'll give you a blowjob that you'll never forget." He groaned and scooted up on the bed, spreading his legs as he watched her shift position so that she was on the lower half of the bed, her head inches from his stiff erection. Her long fingernails were teasing his balls as she blew her warm, gentle breath on the slightly damp cockhead. He shut his eyes as her warm mouth wrapped around his cock, her tongue guiding his cock into her mouth and her hand wrapping around his balls. He arched his back slightly, lifting his ass off the bed as he arched to thrust his cock deeper into her mouth, knowing that he would force it all the way into her throat in the next several seconds. As her mouth eased down his shaft, he grinned, enjoying the feeling of his cockhead rubbing against that floppy thing in her throat. She pulled her mouth back in a teasing manner until only the cockhead was within her mouth as her hands teased his balls. Then she lived up to her promise - to give him a blowjob that he'd never forget. She squeezed his balls as hard as she could while biting hard on his cock's shaft, lightly tasting his blood as her teeth penetrated his skin. As the pain roared through his body, his only thoughts were for a quick death. He didn't feel her release his cock or balls as he curled up into a ball and began throwing up from the pain. He didn't see her open his wallet and remove all of his money. He didn't see her pick up her purse and bag or see her walk out of the motel room. He was too busy curling up and screaming from the pain, trying to find a position where the tremendous pain would stop. She put her overnight bag in her car trunk, still hearing his loud screams behind the closed door, knowing that she only had a few more seconds before the motel manager would call the police. She pulled out on the main road and drove away as she lit a cigarette. Resting the cigarette on the ashtray full of old butts, she fumbled with the whiskey bottle cap, wanting to rinse the acrid taste of his cock from her mouth. She filled her mouth with the whiskey and rinsed her mouth with a gargle motion, then swallowed the liquid that she used as a mouthwash. Rapidly filling her mouth with another large gulp, she also downed that mouthful. As the liquor cleaned her taste buds and started its magical fire within her belly; she flipped open her purse, pulling out the loaded pistol that she usually carried. Laying the pistol on the seat, she looked at the time, knowing that she had time to visit her new friend, Bob, just as he closed up his liquor store for the night. ****** It was four hours later. Andrea Bell was sitting in an all-night diner, sipping on coffee and nervously smoking a cigarette. The diner was a hundred and fifty miles away from the motel where she'd left the screaming asshole that didn't want to pay his debts - and from where she'd left Bob. The liquor store clerk's face lit up when she came in, just as he was getting ready to lock the front door. He smiled when she suggested that he lock up and they go into the storeroom for awhile. In the storeroom, she saw the video recorder that controlled the cameras and knew that the conditions were right. Like a fucking fool, Bob resisted the robbery. When she left, an unconscious Bob was lying on the floor, the floor coated with blood from his head wound - two shots fired from her pistol. He thought that he could overpower her smaller body so she didn't hesitate to pump a couple of bullets into him. Not only did she take about four thousand dollars from Bob's cash drawer and safe, but also she filled her trunk with a couple of cases of her favorite whiskey. After packing her car trunk with the stolen whiskey bottles, she removed the video tapes from the video recorder, then purposely set off the alarm as she went out the door - knowing that the alarm would bring medical help for Bob. The tapes and her pistol were somewhere on the bottom of the Potomac River as she drove away from Washington. She was at the diner, not so much to get something to eat, but to get out of town. As soon as she pulled the trigger, she knew that it was wrong and could lead to a new jail sentence if she was captured. And she didn't need the money because there still was a lot of money in Andrea's bank account. It was the alcohol that caused her to do it - it wasn't the thrill that she got from a successful robbery, she lied to herself. She knew that she had to quit drinking so much, but also knew that she couldn't do without the burn and wonderful rush that the alcohol gave her body. She knew that she'd been living hard and fast the last couple of weeks, but that was because she was celebrating her escape from prison, and her new life - her new identity - her new sex - and her new freedom. But the hard and fast living was quickly showing on her and she needed to slow down. She needed to relax and learn how to live a more sedate lifestyle - as a woman of leisure. She unfolded the road map and looked at where she currently was. For thirty seconds, she stared at the map, and then her face lit up with a smile as she folded the map. She was only twenty miles from the prison where she'd spent her last three years as a man. Only half an hour from where Officer Mahoney lived. Smiling at her memory of how nice Officer Mahoney's tight, firm ass looked, she decided that his town was as good a town as any town to wait on Augustus' transfer. ****** "I want my will changed. Cut my brother out of everything. And I want an accident to occur to one of those pissy-ass in-laws that are always hanging around his house. Nothing fatal, just something to show him that he doesn't have me completely by the balls yet. I'm still in charge and I'll show him that I won't give up without a fight." yelled an angry John Augustus. His general build and facial structure was so similar to the deceased actor Peter Lorre, that most people who met him expected him to be a psychotic killer. He was almost a clone except for his neatly trimmed beard and baldhead, but his deep barrel-chest voice wasn't the peek squeaked voice that people expected from Lorre. Recent security changes at the prison had relaxed the previously tight security. Where the prisoners on Death Row previously were only able to meet visitors under security conditions expected for someone like the infamous Doctor Lector, the new relaxed security policies now permitted the lawyer to sit in the same room with his client. Ignoring his client's ranting, the lawyer replied "I've got your execution delayed one last time. They were going to sentence you to die in thirty days, but I talked them into ninety days with the understanding that we won't appeal any more and that your health is failing. They would rather see you die of natural causes than execute you. A natural death doesn't get the standard group of protesters out front, trying to get their political perspectives on Page One of every newspaper in the state." "Yeah, well, I'm going to escape both their chair and the Grim Reaper. I've got a date with a new body. Wish it wasn't a fucking cunt. I'm not looking forward to spending my next lifetime as a blonde bimbo. I can't make up my which is worse - dying or being stuck in a cunt's body." "I haven't seen Miss Bell since she came to visit you, but she seemed to enjoy her new life." "He was already a fucking queer. But I ain't and that's the difference. I trust Bob more than I trust my own brother and I don't trust Bob at all. My own brother - the fucking, scheming asshole. What else has he been doing to me while I've been in here?" Stopping suddenly, John clutched his chest and balanced himself against the wall. The lawyer jumped to his feet and turned toward the locked door, but John's husky whisper "Stop!" caused the lawyer to pause. Turning to face his client, John eased into a chair, his face extremely pale showing his weakness. He rested for a couple of seconds then whispered "I'm going downhill fast. I may not make my date with Candice. Hold off on my contract on my brother's family until after my death." ****** Candy always slept without any clothes on, preferring the sensation of snuggling up next to her naked husband, Mickey. Tonight and the last several nights, her husband was still two thousand miles away; and she needed the physical relief that his large cock provided her. She was lying curled up on the bed in the fetal position, wishing that Mickey was curled up around her, his hairy chest pressed against her back, and her hot sweaty body cradled against his body. Wishing that his arm was wrapped around her, holding her close to him; that his warm breath was ticking her neck; and most of all, that his cock was rubbing against her ass. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep unless she got some relief, she closed her eyes and cupped one breast in her hand, stroking and kneading the breast, feeling her nipples slowly become erect from her teasing. Shifting her hand to her boob, she whispered aloud to herself in a husky voice, trying to sound masculine, pretending it was her husband's hand that was probing her "Yes, you like this, don't you. You want me to fuck you, don't you? Admit that you're a cunt and you've got to have my dick. Tell me that you want me to fuck you!" Stretching her upper leg and shifting it backwards to spread her legs wider open, she whimpered in her normal voice "Please, please, fuck me. I want you." Her hand motion as she stroked her boobs increased speed as she began aggressively kneading herself. Changing hands, she trailed her hand down to her groin, pressing into the soft, curly golden- blonde hairs, as she began stroking there also. She groaned as she parted her legs further, lifting her leg slightly, her finger prodding around the tender lips hidden behind the golden pubic hair. Whispering to herself in her husky masculine-sounding voice, she loudly groaned "Come on, you fucking bitch. Spread those legs. I know you want my cock. You're one super horny bitch that can't get enough of my cock, aren't you, bitch!" Lifting her leg, she pretended that it was her husband's big cock pressing against her. In her daydream, she imagined that she reached between her legs and guided his cock with her hand, guiding it to her, as she rubbed his imaginary cock between her legs. Using her finger, she rubbed it in a slow, circular motion against her clitoris as she whispered his name "Mickey" in her normal voice. Sitting up suddenly, she mumbled "Shit. Where's he at when I need him?" She scooted across the bed, jerking open the nightstand drawer, removing a dildo and jar of Vaseline. She jerked the jar top from the jelly and liberally coated the dildo head. Rolling over on her back into her previous position, she placed the dildo head against her clitoris and tightly clinched her legs, enjoying the feel of the hard rubber dildo pressing against her tender flesh. Returning one hand to her nipple, she used the other hand to move the dildo a fraction of an inch every three or four seconds, enjoying the slow foreplay. She adjusted the dildo head so it was right in the middle of her vagina lips, then rubbed it back and forth slowly across the opening, enjoying the sensual feel of the hard substance coating her most sensitive body parts with the cool jelly. "Almost as good as the real thing, isn't it bitch? Only it can only fuck you, not rape you. You like to be raped, don't you, you fucking cunt. But you really want to be fucked tonight, don't you - you horny, little cock sucker. Are you ready for my big fucking cock? I want to feel my hot and thick cock inside your wet pussy!" she said hoarsely in her increasing louder masculine voice. "Yes. Take me", she whimpered in her normal voice as she rubbed the dildo's cockhead harder against her opening. Her pussy lips were already wet from being rubbed so the dildo entered her with little effort. She groaned as the cockhead entered her and her vagina lips wrapped around the shaft. "Slowly, take me slowly. You've got such a fucking big cock. It won't fit into me. Don't hurt me - please, don't hurt me. I'll do anything you want, and I mean it. I'll let you fuck me but please don't hurt me." she groaned in her normal female voice to her imaginary male lover, as she shifted her legs slightly to accommodate the dildo inside her; her face all aglow with excitement from the masturbation. She pressed the dildo deeper, feeling her internal muscles gripping it and working it deep inside her. Releasing her grip on the dildo with her hand, she rolled on her back, cupping both breasts as she used her vagina muscles to grip the realistic feeling dildo. She continued kneading her breasts, enjoying the full feeling of the almost fully sheathed dildo completely inside her. "That feels so good, dear." she whispered as she began moving her hips in a slow, circular pattern, holding the dildo inside her. Spreading her legs, she trailed one set of fingertips down her lightly sweat-coated body. Grasping the end of the dildo, she began to slowly piston the fake manhood deep into her innermost body cavity, varying the rhythm of her strokes to intensify the feeling. She began talking loud, using her normal voice, saying works like "fuck" and "suck", as her heat of passion increased. Her voice volume kept increasing until she was screaming at the top of her voice, screaming phrases such as "YES!!! Give it to me! Oh, god! I love it, I love it! Oh, Mickey, your hard cock feels so good! Make it hurt!" Her hand was pumping in a frenzy as she stroked the dildo in and out of her wet, shuddering pussy with complete abandon. She grunted and groaned loudly as one hand on her breasts squeezed her turgid nipples between the thumbs and forefingers sharply, painfully teasing the sensitive flesh. She'd been screaming loudly all along, but her voice changed pitch and intensity as she let go of the dildo and grabbed the bed sheets, holding onto the bed as the orgasm roared through her body. She screamed a loud continuous scream as her body contracted and jerked. Having reached that state of nirvana that she wanted, she rolled over and curled back up, enjoying the feel of the dildo still buried inside her. As she drifted off to sleep, she knew that her relaxed body would let the dildo fall out, as she slept. If it didn't - well, nothing like starting the morning off with a smile on your face, she thought. ****** Jeff Conway threw another chunk of wood onto the roaring campfire and took a sip of the whisky, before passing the bottle to the man that was staring at the fire. Scotty Walsh was a spitting younger image of his father - Clive Walsh. The old man owned the local junkyard and only shaved when he had to go to court to get his troublesome son out of jail. The son only shaved when he took a bath - shaving once every couple of weeks. Both men looked as if they could easily get hired as actors or technical consultants on the set of the old Deliverance movie. "What do you think?" asked Jeff. "Never heard nothing like it before. She's got a set of lungs that would win the hog-calling contest. I thought Denise got vocal when she got meat rammed into her, but this woman's easily got Denise beat. Does she do it every night?" "I don't know. After that first time that I saw her naked and masturbating herself on a blanket, while she was sunning herself in the privacy of her backyard; I've sneaked over into her yard about six or seven nights over the last month. I've heard her just about the same time every night. I'm not sure if she's getting fucked or slaughtered." "She sure wants it, doesn't she?" asked a grinning Scotty as a trace of drool started easing down his unshaven face. "Yeah. What do you want to do?" asked Jeff as he re-passed the whiskey bottle to his friend. "I don't know. I'm on probation and Dad's watching me like a hawk. If he knew I was up here with you, he'd beat the shit outa me and chain me to a wrecked car the way he does our junkyard guard dog. But I'll figure out some way to get me some of that pussy. Next time that I can sneak away and come out here with you, let's get closer." ****** Candy was walking through the house wearing only her bikini bottoms, ignoring the gentle swing of her breasts as she searched for something to read that she hadn't already read. She usually preferred to walk around completely naked, but she'd been out in the yard sunning earlier and had stripped off her bikini top as soon as she entered the safety of the house. Remembering the pile of books in one of the bedrooms that had been left by the previous occupants, she decided to see if there was anything interesting in the packed boxes. Opening one box, she discovered an art book with some papers sticking out. Examining the papers, she discovered a copy of a lease for the farmhouse made out to Andrea Bell. Skimming through the terms of the lease, Candy was surprised to see that the lease was for one year and still had about nine months before it was up. Putting the papers back in the book, she thought that she would ask her husband to check to see how that was possible, when she saw what she was really searching for - a old copy of Cosmo that she hadn't read yet.