Sugar & Spice

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, in her face 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!"

"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 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, and whatever else they could glean from the Criminal Code. They also had him 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. The money was gone; she knew she would never see it again. Then 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 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 the time of her arrest.

"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 saccharine 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 saccharine 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 drivers 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 déjà 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.