Doppelgänger

"Done already?" Angie asked, but Angela ignored her again.

Angela ripped the pendant from her neck and held it in her fist. She snatched up her purse in her hand. Quick. She had to be quick. There was no telling how long she'd have to acknowledge and accept her feelings. Not even time to dress. She slung the purse onto her shoulder, picked up a heavy metal tankard one of the men had left behind, and then knelt on the cold, concrete floor. Only then did she let Angela slip from her mind.

The impact of what she'd done hit her. Seven strange men had pounded dicks into her mouth, between her tits, eaten out her ass and pussy, and coated her in no less than 14 heavy loads of sperm. She wished, truthfully, that it had been more and promised herself that one day soon it would be. Fuck! It was amazing!

She shifted, the dirty room fading away to be replaced by a storeroom piled with crates of bottled beers and liquors. She slammed the pendant to the concrete floor.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Angie screamed.

1... With everything she had, Angela brought the metal tankard down on the stone.

"Stop it!"

2... She screamed as the tankard struck the pendant, but also her finger. A thin crack appeared in the stone.

"Stop!" Angie screeched, panic filling her voice.

3... She bit her lip and raised it again, tears of pain in her eyes as she whined.

4... Sweat beaded on her cum-coated forehead and she brought the tankard back down.

5... The stone shattered, sending shards of red rocketing across the concrete in all directions.

The feel of Angie in her head vanished as though it had never been. A blinding flash of light filled the room, forcing Angela to shut her eyes against it, tears flowing down her face to mix with the dried semen.

6... The light began to fade.

7... Angela opened her eyes, already prepared for despair. She was stuck. She would be Angie forever.

The same crate-crammed stockroom greeted her. For a moment time stood still. Then, the tears that broke suddenly were not of defeat or pain. From somewhere deep inside of her came a throat-filling, heartsick sob of pure relief that nearly made her vomit. She put her head in her hands and choked on her tears, sniffling pitifully. For several minutes she merely sat on her knees on the hard floor, relief washing over her with an intensity that rivaled every mind-blowing orgasm she'd experienced over the last few days.

Wiping her eyes and nose on her arms, seemingly the only part of her not caked in spit and cum, her vision cleared. Angela looked down at the millions of tiny red flecks dusted across the floor, and the dented metal tankard from another world laying beside her. Her finger throbbed with pain where she'd hit it, and she could see it turning purple. The absurd thought that it would be really painful to jerk anyone off or finger fuck herself with that hand passed through her mind, and even though she was home, she knew she was not the same Angela. She was some hybrid Angela/Angie imposter in her own life, now.

Legs shaking, Angela stood and gripped her purse, allowing herself a degree of satisfaction at having made it home with Dale's documents from the other side. She looked about the room, cursed at having dropped the towel, and then squared her shoulders. Naked and covered in dried cum and spit, she reached for the door, eased it open, and looked out on the hallway.

The sounds of a kitchen drifted from somewhere off to her right. A blank wall stood to her left. Hanging from hooks in front of her, though, were several navy aprons with a logo that read, "The Virtuous Maiden." Angela broke down into a fit of hysterical, traumatized giggles at the impossibly opposite name of this place as she took one of the aprons from the hook. It was better than nothing.

She put the apron on, covering her front, while her butt was left completely exposed. The front of the apron, though it covered her breasts, still exposed an absurd amount of cleavage. Angela crept to the end of the hallway, where a swinging door opened on the public area of the establishment. She took a deep breath, swung the door open and poked her head out. Rather than a filthy dive bar, the place looked like a medieval-themed craft beer bar, doing good business for late afternoon.

A woman behind the bar turned to the sound of the opening door. Her face went from confusion, into disbelief, and then registered shock at the sight of Angela nude, but for the apron, and crusted with bodily fluids, her hair in wild disarray. She looked in no way like a virtuous maiden.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Angela said, "But may I please use your phone?"

It had never felt so good to be polite.

Chapter 21: Naughty Nerd

Angela slumped against the passenger door of Kat's mother's borrowed car, eyes closed, and her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

"Will you please tell me what the hell is going on?" Kat asked again, visibly shaken at the sight of her friend wearing nothing but a stolen apron and covered in some kind of goo.

"Not now, Kat. Please. I just want to go home."

Kat huffed, but relented. Whatever had happened to Angela had clearly been traumatic, but with the way she'd been acting and dressing lately, Kat didn't feel surprised. She guessed that Angela was just going through the same kind of identity crisis that everyone in school was, as graduation approached. She tamped down her curiosity and drove Angela home, dropping her at the curb and then waiting until she'd let herself into the house.

Angela pressed her back against the door as it shut and breathed in the familiar smell of home. The scent of old books, dust and aged wood had never been so comforting. The house was quiet as she went up the creaking steps to her room and flung open the door. Other than the addition of a couple of pole lights and some discarded clothes on the floor, everything seemed just as she'd left it.

Angela. I'm Angela, she remembered, taking a step inside. Aimlessly, she poked about the room, opening the closet, where she found other remnants of Angie in the new additions to her wardrobe. She shivered at the sight of the slutty clothes hanging next to her own drab faire. She turned to the desk, where an iphone lay next to a small stack of bills, the remaining graduation money from her mother, she figured. On the bed were two sex toys, whose use she was now quite familiar with, as well as a couple of clothespin, which she guessed had been on Angie's nipples. She swept the things into the trash can in a quick burst of anger.

Picking up the phone, she pressed her thumb to the screen and allowed herself a half smile as it unlocked. Same fucking fingerprints, even. She shuddered. Not so different after all. Her finger hovered over the album, filled with videos and pictures of Angie, no doubt doing utterly slutty things. She moved it toward the phone settings, poked around the menu, so similar to the useless WozPad in her purse, until she found the storage menu.

Erase all. Confirm.

The small act of erasing Angie from the phone was only slightly gratifying. Erasing Angie from the rest of her... well, she knew it would never happen. She'd just lived through something few people had. Only two that she knew of, and they'd never made it back. Thanks to a blowbang and a metal tankard from another reality, she'd be the last one, too. The enormity of what had happened to her wasn't lost on Angela's scientifically geared mind. It was just the enormity was too enormous to reasonably contemplate in this moment.

Right now, her concerns were with more trivial matters, such as washing the filth from her body and removing as much Angie from her room as possible. Angela emptied the contents of her purse onto the desk, contemplating whether to empty them into the garbage instead. No. Whatever memories they might hold for her, they were still invaluable artifacts from a parallel world. The scientist in her wouldn't allow her to simply discard them. Instead, she sorted them out.

The WozPad, showing no signal because its network did not exist. A large pile of completely useless money that her hard, teenage body had put in a lot of work for. Even now, the memories of what she'd done were making her wet. A set of keys to Angie's home and car. She allowed a self-satisfied smirk at how pissed DupliDale was going to be when he found out that Angie had misplaced her car, keys, and phone for the second time in a week. Whatever. That bitch deser— She caught herself mid-thought and immediately terminated it.

The next item was DupliDale's equally useless credit card, followed by a nearly empty package of wet wipes, and a small (recently cleaned) butt plug. Ok. That one is a keeper, she thought, and tossed it onto the bed. Finally, she unfolded the thick stack of papers and spread them on the desk. These were the key to Dale's wealth and success. Her own Dale was not likely to understand them, but somewhere out there was someone that could. Someone that was connected to the company that had the same name on the other side.

Angela picked up the phone, her phone now, launched the browser, closed the open porn window, and did a search for DomCo.

Epilogue: An Unbroken Cycle

Lexy shook her head at the memory of the weird naked girl from earlier in the day. Never, in all the months that she'd worked at this place, had some vagrant hooker snuck into the back. She just could not believe that something like that could happen, and at The Virtuous Maiden of all places! She swung the door of the stockroom open and started for a crate. Her foot kicked against something, sending it skidding across the concrete floor. Lexy bent down and picked the thing up, cocking her head curiously.

The little heart-shaped pendant was very pretty. Had one of the waitresses dropped it? It looked damaged. Even as she watched, though, the hairline crack in the stone seemed to seal itself shut. Lexy gasped in astonishment. The red stone swung back and forth on its thin silver chain hypnotically. Gosh. It really is pretty, she thought.