The Misogynist Ch. 01

The morning had gone slowly for Cheryl, and she was glad when her lunch break arrived. She pulled out her usual lettuce and tomato sandwich and plastic container of peaches and took up her customary spot at the coffee shop. She was eating and minding her own business when a youngish looking man came over and sat at her table. "Pardon me. I know you work at the store." He pulled out an index card. "I have this small list of materials given to me by my older sister. She has a teenage daughter, and wants her to become more interested in reading, I wonder if it be too much trouble if you looked at my list and gave me some tips." He handed her the index card. "I'm not much of a hand at picking out girl reading."

Cheryl didn't want to be impolite, but this was her lunch break. "I'd be glad to look it over for you, but as you can see this is my lunch break."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I just thought." He hesitated for effect. "I've seen you around here and you're always so helpful. I thought maybe I could just show you the list."

"I'm not supposed to do this. I mean I'm on break. Drop it off at the desk and one of the other salespeople will give it a look for you."

Martin gave his best I'm defeated look. "OK. I only thought." He wanted to get this right so he hesitated again. "I know you help people. "He gave his list a disconsolate look. "I'm sorry." He moved to get up.

"Wait a minute. I guess I could at least look at the list." She held out her hand.

Martin handed her the index card. Behaving in a mildly excited manner. "She's fifteen and something of a hard case. Doesn't like many things, and says she hates to read but always has a book around."

Cheryl looked the list over. "If I were fifteen I don't think I'd like any of these."

"None of them?"

"Well they're all classics, but Nineteenth Century American authors aren't always what I'd call eye catching. Let me give you some authors. She took a pen out of her pocketbook and wrote down three. Here. If I were fifteen and wanted to read something I'd go for love stories. These three have written some good ones."

Martin looked at the list. They were names he didn't recognize. "You think they're pretty good?"

Cheryl smiled. "Yes I do."

Martin smiled. That was Turner's signal.

From around the corner up popped Turner. "Hey Martin. I thought I'd find you here." Turning to Cheryl and pointing to his friend he said. "Bookworm. Wherever there are books, there also shall he be."

Martin held up the index card. "The lovely lady here gave me a revised list to help me in my search for something for my niece."

Turner looked at the card. He didn't recognize a single name. Looking at Cheryl. "These are good authors?"

Cheryl was getting uncomfortable and wanted to leave. "I think so." She started to move. "Look I."

Turner intercepted her comment. "What's your name?"

Taken aback by the forthrightness of the question she blurted out. "Cheryl."

Turner wasn't about to let her go, not yet. "Well Cheryl why don't you let us show our gratitude? By the way my name's Turner, and this reprobate is called Martin. Could we buy you lunch or something?"

Cheryl didn't know how to answer. She looked the two men over. Martin was tall and pretty good looking. Better than anything she'd ever come close to dating, but dating had always been a foreign language for her. But Turner was an eye opener. He was hot stuff, and he sounded so nice. She couldn't think of an answer, so she said something stupid. "I eat here every day."

"That settles it." Said Turner. "You and I have a date for tomorrow." He looked at his watch and calibrated backwards. "Say 11:30?"

Cheryl couldn't say no. She ate at that time everyday. "If you're here. I'll be here."

Turner stuck out his hand. "Shake on it?"

Cheryl reached out and shook his hand.

Turner and Martin got up and said their good byes. Last, Turner looked at Cheryl. "Tomorrow 11:30!" He made it sound like he was really excited.

Cheryl acknowledged. "I'll be here."

The next three workdays followed the same pattern. Turner showed up promptly at 11:15. He'd wait for Cheryl. He'd insist on buying their drinks. He'd eat a cold cut sandwich bought from a nearby deli, while she ate her usual whatever day it was food. For three days he poured on the charm. Being a veteran predator he knew just how much charm and how much pressure was needed to get the right response. By the fourth day she was looking for him.

It was on the fourth day he explained he couldn't stop in anymore. His work was requiring a modification in his schedule, but he wanted to see her again. He asked, and hoped it would be all right if she would go out with him this Saturday night. When she hesitated he suggested they double date with his best friend Martin and a nice girl he was seeing. Turner thought they could all go to dinner followed by a trip to the theater. Nothing special, just a simple two step entertainment. She accepted. He got her address, and made arrangements. He would pick her up at 6:00 and go on from there to get Martin and his date.

The decision to go out with a man she'd only met a few days before was the most adventurous decision Cheryl had ever made in her life, but he was so nice, such a gentleman. Besides he was so handsome, and he paid attention to her. She liked Martin too. He seemed such a safe kind of guy.

For Turner things were going like he expected. He recognized loneliness, and he knew how best to exploit it. He planned on several warm fuzzy evenings followed by some meaningful first move.

Turner got to her house at 5:45. She was ready. When she came down the steps in front of her apartment Turner silently cringed.

Cheryl couldn't have looked worse unless she had dog written on her forehead. Her hair hung limply down around an undistinguished face. She was wearing a pair of unflattering wire rimmed glasses. Make up looked nonexistent except for some too red lipstick. She had on a gray dress. It zipped up the back. It looked a little rumpled. A belt cinched her waist too tightly making her tummy protrude as though she was in the early stages of pregnancy. All in all she was a most uninteresting looking woman. He imagined her as a casserole at some lame church cover dish dinner rather than a prospective babe out for a night on the town.

Cheryl thought she looked pretty good considering her limited wardrobe, but when she saw Turner she felt totally inadequate. He was wearing a dark suit. It looked navy blue. A blue button down shirt and red striped tie accentuated his confident demeanor. He capped everything off with a pair of black wing tips. He looked like a Greek God. She felt like a troll.

Cheryl's aplomb wasn't improved when she met Martin's date. She was dressed in a skimpy see through white blouse and black pleated mini-skirt. She looked hot. Cheryl, next to Martin's date felt like a warmed over bowl of scrambled eggs.

In spite of her failure to impress dinner went fine. Turner was certainly the gentleman, and Martin was kind and considerate. Turner behaved like she was the prettiest girl in the room. Martin's date was nice but something of a bubble-brain. A couple times Cheryl thought she caught Martin looking her way. She wondered what he was thinking. Did he think she was pretty too? He seemed pensive. Maybe a little skittish. He was always quick to agree with everything Turner said. Anyone could see Turner was the alpha. Martin was the hanger on. She felt good knowing she was with the top dog. It was a first for her.

After dinner they went to a show. They saw Cats. She'd seen it before, but at a matinee and alone. Seeing something like this with a group was a new experience. She liked it. After the show Turner suggested they all stop over at his downtown residence. She hadn't known, but Turner was quite well off, and he owned, or rented, a well-accoutered apartment just off the main thoroughfare. Since no else seemed to mind, she agreed to go along. They stayed till well past 1:00 a.m. the men drinking bourbon and the girls having a light wine.

After a while talking about nothing in particular Turner decided it was time to get Cheryl home. He dropped Martin and his date off first. Cheryl was last to be taken home. This time, rather than just let her go upstairs, he walked her to her door. She reflected on what to do next, as she opened her door. Turner could tell she was a little scared. He politely asked if he could kiss her good night. She supposed it was all right. He gently held her shoulders and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. He said he had a wonderful time, and hoped she had a good time too. She said she had. He asked of he could call her one day next week to take her out again. She said that would be all right too.

Cheryl went to bed that evening feeling lighthearted and happy. Was Turner her Prince Charming?

After Turner dropped Cheryl off he went back to Martin's. Martin was still up, and the whore he'd picked up as a date was still there too. "Well Martin my man. What do you think?"

Martin responded. "Cheryl doesn't get out much."

"Are you surprised? If this wasn't a bet the only place I'd take her would be the kennels."

Martin hedged. "You're being a little harsh. She's a wallflower, but I see potential there."

"You've got to be kidding."

"Tell you what. Let's double again. We'll go someplace else." He looked over at the girl he'd taken out. "You could take Cheryl out and get her fixed up beforehand."

The woman who'd been Martin's date pointed to her chest. "Me?"

"Yeah sure. Why not?"

Martin's date that evening wasn't a whore like Turner supposed. He assumed all women were whores. The girl's name was Sarah, and she was actually a very nice girl, and she had a serious crush on Martin. "You want me to take her to the beauty parlor, and then someplace to get her something decent to wear?"

Martin smiled. "Yeah. You could call her. Say you thought it would be a good idea if the two of you were dressed like sisters. That would be your excuse."

Turner looked over at the two conspirators. "You think that would work?"

Martin answered. "Sure it would."

Sarah added. "Yeah. Sure. It could work. I'd like the chance to remake our little wallflower."

"There you go." Said Martin. "All you have to do Turner is call her up. Set up a second date, and tell her our little girl here is going to call her about something."

Turner slapped Martin on the shoulder. "You're making it easier for me to win this bet. You're my main man Martin."

Sarah asked. "What bet?"

Martin answered her. "Don't worry about it. I'll fill you in later."

The girl said nothing. If it was none of her business, it was none of her business, but she knew any bet involving a woman and Turner was probably bad news for the woman.

Turner waited until Wednesday before calling Cheryl. He knew his women. An extra day or two wait made them anxious, especially one like Cheryl whose social activities were so limited. He explained away the late call asserting he'd had to leave town. He asked if she was amenable to a second double date with Martin and Sarah. This time Sarah wanted to go on a picnic and go swimming. Cheryl demurred at first, but Turner said Sarah wanted the two of them to go shopping. Sarah had this fantasy about the two girls going as sisters, look a-likes. He'd taken the liberty of giving the other girl Cheryl's phone number so they could hook up for a shopping spree. Cheryl was against a spree saying she lacked the funds. Turner said not to worry. Martin was gong to foot the bill, and if Cheryl was unhappy about it the two of them, he and she, would combine to pick up the tab.

Turner was so persuasive, and so sincere Cheryl had no choice but to cave in. Thursday afternoon she got a call from Sarah. They would meet Friday after lunch and do the shopping thing. Cheryl had to get someone to cover her Friday afternoon and her Saturday hours, but since she'd covered so many others that turned out not to be a problem.

Friday afternoon came, and Sarah picked Cheryl up for a day's shopping.

"First." Sarah said. "We're going to the beauty parlor. If we're going to be sisters, we're going to have to look alike."

Cheryl answered. "I'm all right."

Sarah interrupted. "No you're not. We're going to be a matched set. That means a make over."

Uncertain about what else to say Cheryl went along.

At the beauty shop Sarah insisted they both get their hair done the same way. She wanted both to have curly hair, shorter than what Cheryl had, and it should be highlighted with blond streaks. Cheryl didn't like the idea, but since this was Sarah's idea she went along.

While they were having their hair done they both got manicures and pedicures. Both had their nails thoroughly cleaned and buffed. Clear polish was applied.

Both had their faces scrubbed and scraped. A new base coat of make up was applied, and then the ladies at the parlor dabbed on the war paint. Each girl got a pink base coat, some additional pink rouge on their cheeks pale blue eye shadow, dark mascara, a pale pink lipstick covered by a clear gloss.

When Cheryl looked in the mirror she didn't recognize the woman looking back at her. The woman in the mirror wasn't her. The woman in the mirror was pretty, more than pretty, she was stunning. "Is that me?" She asked Sarah.

"You bet it's you!" That was everybody's answer!

"Now we have to get a depilatory."

"A what?" Asked Cheryl.

"We have to get our pussies defoliated. Don't forget we're going swimming. The most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to a woman is to have her crotch hairs peaking out from around her swimsuit, or worse sticking through it. We need to get naked down underneath!"

Cheryl blanched. "Oh No! Not me! That would be wrong to do."

Sarah laughed. "Oh yes you! You need to be a clean shaver down below." She saw the frightened reaction on Cheryl's face. "Believe me. No one will know. But if you don't do it, they might all know something else!"

Cheryl asked. "Are you going to do it?"

"We're sisters aren't we. What goes for one, goes for both!"

For the next forty-five minutes Cheryl sat stiffly as the girls at the parlor lowered her chair back and slowly and carefully denuded her vagina. When they were through Cheryl felt the air wafting around her down there. It was an unusual, not entirely unpleasant, experience. She touched herself. She couldn't remember the last time she was hairless down there. In fact she couldn't remember the last time she deliberately touched herself down there except to wash.

Sarah was irrepressible. "We're off to the clothiers. There's a great little boutique around the corner. It's a little costly, but Martin's picking up the tab, and he wants us at our best."

"Don't you think we should check with him first?"

Sarah was forthright. "Certainly not! This is what he wants. And I'll bet Turner wants it too."

Cheryl thought a moment about Turner. He was so handsome, so kind, such an exceptional man. She wanted to please him. "OK. We'll do it."

"That's a girl!"

Off to the boutique they went. Cheryl was a little on the heavy side so Sarah had to be careful to select something they'd both look good in. She settled on a black one-piece bathing suit for both of them. The suit was shapely, but had enough foundation to guarantee none of Cheryl's baby fat would peak through or cause any slippage or rippling. The shoulder straps were well defined, two inches wide, and provided good support. The legs didn't curl up around the thighs but covered an ample area to prevent any unnecessary displays of cellulite.

Sarah had a good head about her when it came to clothing. Cheryl was going to need something suggestive, but concealing. Looking around the sports wear she found just the outfit. It was a simple black and white three piece, a short sleeved white button up blouse with a classic peter-pan collar they'd leave unbuttoned at the top.

She picked out a black mini-skirt. Cheryl's legs were ample up around the thighs so she targeted something that was loose fitting, very short, but flared out from the waist. Pleats would have made her look fat, and a tight mini would have been even worse, but this outward flare looked daring and cute.

The third component of the outfit was a cloth three-buttoned vest. If they kept things unbuttoned the vest would conceal any unsightly bulges in the middle as well as Cheryl's somewhat buxom appearance. She picked out a comfort fit bra for each of them, and loose fitting tap panties for down below. Last she selected a pair of black lace up shoes with a modest high heel and black thigh high stockings.

When they were both dressed and standing side by side facing the mirror they did look sisterly. Cheryl was the bigger, heavier sister, but she didn't look fat, only a little more pleasing to the eye.

Since Cheryl wore glasses that required one more stop. At the optometrists Sarah selected a pair of black horned rim glasses. They adjusted the lenses for Cheryl's vision, and when she put them on they matched her outfit perfectly. She looked younger with the glasses on. They made her look scholarly but like a schoolgirl at the same time.

"Cheryl you look gorgeous!" Was all Sarah could say, and the truth was Cheryl did look pretty damn good. Nobody would confuse her with Cheryl Tieges, but she still looked awful damn good. Sarah emphasized her thoughts. "You look finger licking good Cheryl."

Cheryl couldn't believe her own eyes. She did look good. Hell she was pretty! Sarah made her look pretty! "Sarah you're wonderful! I feel so good!" She put her arms around the younger woman and kissed her on the cheek. "I love you Sarah! I can't believe it!"

"Wait till tomorrow! You'll have both men drooling. I don't know if I want to be seen with you."

They both laughed! Cheryl could hardly wait for tomorrow. It was going to be wonderful! She just knew it.

Sarah gave Martin a phone call when she got home. "You're not going to believe what you're going to see tomorrow."

"She looks that good."

"Martin she's beautiful. She's much too good for the likes of Turner."

Martin hung up the phone. He didn't like himself much sometimes. Often those sometimes coincided with something Turner wanted him to do. If they weren't life-long friends, well, so what. It's just a bet, and Cheryl was just another piece of ass.