The Diary

Gone was the obese and sallow flesh that she had felt imprisoned by for so many years. Gone too was the stringy dark hair that no amount of conditioning or styling had ever been able to make attractive. In their place she saw the woman she had dreamed of being. She was tall and athletically thin with the tanned and freckled skin of a surfer or farm girl. Her breasts were smaller than they had been, but still sizeable and now firm and pert as they had never been even when she was young. Her hair was somewhere between red and blonde, like nothing she had ever seen before, and it hung down her back in soft curls that reached almost to her waist. She looked at her mons and blushed, 'I never pictured myself shaven. That must be his preference...'

She stopped admiring herself at that thought, her eyes widening in surprise. 'It was real!'

She rushed back into the bedroom like a child at Christmas time and then stopped herself.

"This is silly," she announced, "Of course it was real. I'm in a new body with his mark on my arm. So it follows that I really did travel somewhere and..." she smiled wistfully at the memories and felt the design in her flesh warm and tingle. It faded after a moment and she felt woefully alone and empty.

"I'm sorry... master?" she ventured and was pleased when she felt a sense of approval. "This is very overwhelming. I will need some time to plan and organize." Again she felt the faint wash of approval. Then, because no matter what her body looked like she was still Jane Wilson, she began cleaning up the bedroom. When she was finished, she sat down at the table in the kitchen to think.

'I can't be Jane Wilson anymore,' she realized, 'not looking like this. Perhaps I can be a relative. A niece. That will work. Jane has gone off on a cruise and then to a retirement home in... Florida. That's exactly where Jane would have gone. I'll be the niece come to liquidate her estate.'

Step by step, and taking careful notes, Jane plotted her own disappearance. When she was finished she noted, with surprise, that it was almost 9am and she wondered exactly how long she had been working. She picked up her phone and called the town hall. Sniffling and wheezing she informed them that she felt ill and would be out for the day. Then she cleaned up the apartment, carefully and meticulously removing all traces of her preparations from the night before.

As she worked she began separating her belongings into piles: keep, sell, donate. It was noon before she was finished and she realized that she was starving. She pulled food out of the refrigerator and ate it, despite the fact that it all seemed very bland. When she was finished, she sat down at the computer and began to work. It took a great deal of effort, but by late in the evening she felt that she had accomplished all she could without going out.

Clothing proved to be a problem. Everything she owned was sized for her old body. She considered just wearing a blouse and a belt, but that proved impractical as the shirt was much too short; it didn't even come down past her waist. She solved the problem by cutting the arms off a blouse and tying a length of fabric around her waist to make a sarong. With some floppy sandals the outfit was acceptable casual wear for the late summer.

Her first destination was the library. She simply unlocked the back door, walked in, and walked out with the diary. She had considered burning the library to the ground and faking her death, but the young girl in her, the one that had loved books and their escape from a harsher reality, simply couldn't countenance that. The simple theft bothered her, but she was protecting her master.

'Master,' she thought, rolling the term, the idea, around in her mind. It felt... right.

From there she walked to The Breakers. The bar was doing a brisk business but wasn't particularly crowded. She hesitated in the doorway, unfamiliar with this type of setting, and saw a dozen heads swivel in her direction. She blushed and walked over to the bar. She hadn't had time to open her mouth when a man rushed up.

"Give her whatever she wants," he told the man behind the bar.

She smiled at him. "That's very kind of you, but I'm meeting someone," she told him.

"That's perfectly alright," he responded, "I'll just keep you company until he arrives. I'm Alex."

"Hello, Alex," she said, "I'm Giolla. What do you recommend?"

"I prefer to give ladies a Screaming Orgasm," he replied.

She blushed again and discovered she was enjoying herself. His obvious pursuit was flattering and the very idea of sex made her wet. She wondered, eyeing his physique, what kind of lover he would be. 'What would he feel like?'

"I need to be reasonably sober this evening, so I believe I'll have a Greyhound," she told the bartender, "Light on the vodka, please."

She nursed the drink and teased Alex, dancing around his increasingly direct attempts to convince her to go somewhere with him; never saying yes, but never shutting him down. She could feel his desire in her belly and it drove her to distraction.

At length a young man walked into the bar. He was the physical antithesis of Giolla/Jane, short, a little overweight, bespectacled and not particularly attractive. He hesitated in the doorway, completely out of his element.

"Excuse me, Alex," Giolla said, "I believe my date is here. Do you come here often?"

"Only if you're going to be here," he told her.

She smiled and patted him on the cheek. "I'll look for you, then. Thank you for the drink."

His eyes followed her across the room, as did many others.

"Mr. Elite, I believe?" she asked the boy in the doorway.

"Yes," he croaked and cleared his throat. "I mean, yes, that's me. Are you Ms. Behaving?"

"Not yet," Giolla replied, "but perhaps you can help me with that. Shall we go someplace quieter?"

She walked out the door and he followed, hurrying to catch up.

"I'll need someplace to take a couple of photographs," he said.

"I know just the place," she responded.

The hotel was just a few blocks away and it seemed a waste to drive there, but Elite had his equipment in the trunk of his car. The room was small but clean, and the table was easily moved out of the way to make room for a backdrop and a camera. Elite quickly snapped a couple of photographs of Giolla and checked them to be certain they would work.

"It'll take me a couple of days," he informed her, "Some of the hacking is sensitive and the IDs will take several hours to set. It will all stand up to cursory examination, even a routine check, but a detailed examination wouldn't be fooled. You can probably get a passport, but if someone starts a serious criminal investigation they'll find you out pretty quickly. And this isn't cheap work. Do you have my money?"

"Of course I do," Giolla purred, "but perhaps you might be willing to take some services in exchange?"

Elite swallowed nervously and looked at her, "What kind of services?"

Giolla untied the fabric that was her skirt and let it drop to the floor. "I was thinking about some personal services," she responded as she slowly advanced on him, fingers undoing the buttons of her blouse.

Elite stared at her like a deer caught in headlights. When she peeled her blouse off her torso he reached out and grabbed her breasts, roughly squeezing them in his hands. She hissed in pain and delight and arched her head back. He pushed forward against her, his hands mauling her tits and his mouth wet and sloppy against her neck, backing her up until she fell onto the bed. His hands dropped to his pants, fumbling at the belt and zipper and pushing them down around his ankles. She spread her legs as he threw himself onto her and tried to push into her. She reached down between her legs to guide him into her and he groaned in pleasure and disappointment. She felt the warmth of his cum squirting onto her and made a disappointed sound.

"I'm sorry..." he began but she cut him off with a finger placed upon his lips. Gently she pushed him onto the bed, onto his back, and wormed her way down to his feet. Methodically she removed his shoes, socks, and pants. Then she lay down between his legs with her head resting on his thigh.

"That sort of thing happens to everyone," she told him, "But now that's out of the way, let's settle down to have some fun."

She leaned her head over him and began to lick him clean. His cock, which had softened a little, quickly hardened and he groaned in pure pleasure as she took him into her mouth. Her hands worked at his testicles, slowly massaging them, as she moved her head up and down. She felt the stiffening in his body that signified imminent orgasm and took her mouth off of him and pressed hard with her fingers at his prostate. He drew in his breath in disappointment and she smiled at him again.

"Not just yet," she said in a husky tone, "I want you inside me when that happens."

She nibbled at his thighs with her teeth and lips for a few minutes and then worked her way up his body. He exclaimed in delight as she sucked at one of his nipples and then gasped as she slid herself on top of him and backed herself down onto his cock.

"Oh yes," he said.

"Yes indeed," she murmured. She squeezed with her vaginal muscles, imagining that she was pulling him deeper into her, several times. Then she pushed herself upright and slowly rode him. Her hands wandered up her body, presenting it to his view. Fingers pulled at a nipple as she bit her lip. Then she sucked on one of her fingers, slowly, letting him see, again, what she had been doing to his cock. His hands seized her hips, pulling her down hard onto him as he thrust up into her. She crooned in delight as she felt his cum inside her and squeezed him, again, and again as she rocked her pelvis against him. Orgasm eluded her, despite her efforts, and she finally stopped from sheer exhaustion.

"That was amazing," he confessed when she collapsed on top of him.

"We're clear on the bill," he announced.

Giolla, frustrated and slightly angry, pulled herself off of him and turned so that her head was towards the foot of the bed, her feet at the headboard.

"I want more," she declared. His cock was already shrinking and she turned her attentions to it in the hopes of reviving it. She held his flacid member in her mouth and tasted the conmingled fluids that coated it. She sucked hungrily at him, humming softly under her breath, and used her hands to massage his scrotum. She felt his hands running along her legs and quickly lifted one leg to give him access to her. She trembled in delight as his fingers wandered across her mons and toyed with the wet folds of her sex. She thrust her hips towards him, silently begging for more of his attention. He obliged her by rubbing enthusiastically, if none too skillfully. His fingers ventured inside her and she moaned plaintively. His cock began to rapidly harden and she took her mouth away from it.

Scrambling forward a little, she knelt on the bed with her hands well forward and her head to the bedspread. She spread her legs as wide as she was able and waggled her ass enticingly. Elite mumbled "Hell yeah," and quickly knelt behind her. He thrust his cock into her and began to slowly pump. Giolla pushed back against him with every thrust, her ass cheeks smacking against his abdomen. She tried to hold him in with her muscles whenever he pulled back and she could tell from his body language that he liked this, that he was getting close. When he came again he thrust hard into her and she tried to milk him. Still orgasm eluded her and she growled in frustration.

He pulled out of her and flopped back on the bed, covered in sweat and panting. She crawled over him and began to fellate him again.

"You're kidding," he groaned. "It's going to be an hour, at least, before I can get it up again."

Giolla continued to work him. But no matter how she used her mouth and hands he was resistant to her efforts. She rolled over onto her back and faced, him, legs spread.

"But I want you," she whispered, "My body wants you deep inside me. See?"

She reached between her legs and separated the swollen lips of her cunt. Her fingers teased the folds and then a finger slid inside of her. She tossed her head back and gasped for air as she slowly slid the finger in and out of herself. She pulled the finger out and traced it up her body, leaving a wet trail on her belly, between her breasts. The finger slipped between her lips and she sucked at the honey that coated it. Leaning back on the bed her free hand snaked between her legs and began to stroke herself again, laying bare the pearl of her clitoris.

"Please," she begged, "Please?"

"Damn," he said in fascination, "You're a genuine fucking nympho. What a hot bitch!"

He reached out with his hand and began to finger-fuck her. Re-positioning himself, he lowered his head to her breast and began to suck hard at her. She moaned in delight and arched her back, pressing upwards into his mouth. Several minutes of clumsy work was apparently all that Elite was capable of and he stopped even as she was reaching the conclusion that this was not going to end well for her.

"That was... the best," he said, "I'll finish up your IDs and get them to you. Where do you want them sent?"

She sat up and leaned over and kissed him. "E-mail me," she replied, "And you can deliver them in person. I'm going to take a shower. Do you mind?"

"Whatever works for you," he said in a tired voice.

He was snoring when she emerged from the shower and his breathing rythym didn't change at all when she bent over to take him, once more just for the taste, into her mouth. She licked her lips as she left, wondering, 'Do all women like that taste, or is it just me?'

Giolla walked home in an effort to work off the unfulfilled excitement that roiled within her. Every step reminded her of the wetness between her thighs and no matter how she tired, her lungs pounded as if she had just run a great distance. When she got back to the apartment she stalked angrily through it, discarding her clothing and trying to order her thoughts. At length she stalked into her bedroom and stood where the circle had been. She tried to focus, but every thought she recognized and discarded was replaced by another.

"What has happened to me?" she demanded.

*Surrender,* she heard. Startled, she looked around the room, but found no one.

*Surrender to me,* a voice whispered in her mind.

"I do, master. I do surrender to you," she whispered back.

As if a switch had been flipped she felt herself falling to the floor, shaken to her very core by a burst of pleasure that was beyond anything she had ever known. The sensations of the last several hours played themselves across her nerves in the span of a few seconds, like a tape on fast-forward. She could sense his touch, probing the memories, delighting in her sensations and actions; his pleasure fed back to her, intensifying the moment.

Lungs heaving, desperate for oxygen, she lay upon the floor, twitching helplessly. As the room faded to red, she felt his presence again, *I am pleased. Bring me more.*

She woke in the morning, weak and ravenous. She crawled to the phone and, after several bungled attempts, managed to dial the bagel place down the street. Croaking hoarsely, she ordered a dozen bagels, cream cheese, smoked salmon, and orange juice; she paid with Jane's credit card. She spent an hour wolfing the food down, constrained only by her inability to chew and swallow any faster, and then crawled into bed.

She awoke later in the afternoon, still sore, but no longer feeling as though she had been run through a wringer. She poked through the remains of the food, looking for something to eat and finding nothing; she had even licked the cream cheese containers clean. Sighing, she put on her clothing, 'My only set of clothing', she reminded herself, and went out to find some more food to eat.

Sitting in a hole-in-the-wall Chinese place, eating her third order of steamed dumplings, she pondered the events that had transpired and what they meant.

'Elite wasn't exactly a skilled stud,' she conceded, 'but I should have gotten at least close to an orgasm. The sex felt good and I was certainly in the mood... Perhaps this is what master meant? Unfulfilled? So why... Oh! Of course! He feeds on the sexual energy, so I only feel the release of the sexual energy when I am able to pass it on to him. I'm a... a... conduit. Hmm... So I can only pass it on to him through the opening I created between our worlds. I wonder if that means that I can experience a normal orgasm if I have sex inside the portal? Make a note of that. I'm also going to have to start eating more if I get physically drained every time I pass on the energy I have collected. And that's another interesting point... I'm obviously supposed to collect more energy for him...' she smiled wickedly to herself as she worked through the ramifications of that thought.

She finished off the remaining food, paying her bill with cash withdrawn from an ATM machine, and reflected that she was fortunate to be living in a university town. 'The town library may be for shit, but it's closed anyway. The University will have what I need. Straight there.' Her skirt slipped as she accidentally trod on it, and she barely caught it before it unraveled completely and fell to the ground. Smiling at one gaping patron as she re-tied the skirt she amended that thought, 'Clothing first. Then the library.'

Six hours of furious research later, she had fleshed out another portion of her plan.