Doppelgänger

Angela resumed her inspection of the room with a newfound sense of determination. She had to learn everything she could about how to become Angie. Unfortunately, Angie wasn't one to keep a diary of her horrendous exploits. She did have a computer, though. It took a couple of tries to get the password, but when she thought like a dumb, bitchy, slut version of herself, she came up with the right one. Fuckdoll. God, Angie really was a perverted bitch.

For the next two hours she went through Angie's emails, her browser history, and the files on her computer. In most ways, Angie was her complete opposite, but they did share some similarities. One gross example was a spreadsheet, where Angie tracked her income from hooking. The sheet had names, locations, amounts she'd been paid and for what "service". Angela felt sick just looking at it, but it was valuable nonetheless. Angie had regulars that she met with, and her activities made more money than Angela had ever seen in one place. Where did she keep it? She wondered, but that thought was secondary.

The idea that she was going to have to become, not only a complete bitch, but also a prostitute made her have second thoughts about ever going home. Could she actually bring herself to do this? Then, she imagined what her dad would feel, when he learned that Angie was rewriting her life, destroying all of her accomplishments, and turning her into some kind of porn star. He was already a broken man. Having to go through all of that might actually put him under. She couldn't let it happen.

A distracting rumble from her stomach signaled that she'd been neglecting to eat anything today. If she was going to pull this off, she'd certainly need to keep up her energy. Angela made her way down to the kitchen, where she was greeted by Angie's father, standing by the island reading over a stack of papers.

"Angie." He said brusquely.

"Hey, dad. I'm hungry."

"You know where the pantry is." He replied, without looking up.

She didn't, but supposed it wouldn't be too difficult.

"Why were you at your mother's?" He asked, "And where's your car?"

Angela thought quickly, replying, "I lost my purse. No phone. No keys. No money. I took the bus to mom's after school and called you."

He grunted, accepting the answer, and did not seem surprised. Angela felt certain that this was not the first time something like this had happened. Dale set the papers down on the island and fished out his wallet. He handed her a black credit card.

"It has a $500 limit." He said, "And I'd better not see any charges from Cedrics or K-Mart on this one. Get yourself a new phone at the Horizon on 6th. They'll be able to switch the old line to the new one. I'll have Brad drive you in the morning, and he can get a locksmith out to get a new key for the car."

She nodded and resisted the urge to thank him. Oddly enough, he was unphased and hugged her. Even though it wasn't her real dad, Angela nearly broke down and cried into his chest. She didn't want to feel alone here, contemplating the horrible things she was about to do in order to get the real Dale back. Alone she was, though. No one else could know. No one else could help. It was all up to her.

Chapter 10: Altering Angela

Angie's bed was the most comfortable thing Angela could remember sleeping in. She'd nearly fallen asleep reading through Angie's email, and going back through years of social media history to get an idea of her interests, the way she talked, where she'd been. The experience was one mindfuck after another. At one point, she'd pondered the philosophical debate of nature vs. nurture, and thought about how much Galton would relish an opportunity to study this. For all she knew, Galton had been a pendant victim himself, and that had led to him coining the term.

She'd put an end to the thought, though, when she told herself that this was certainly not something that Angie would care about. She had to learn to dismiss her own scientific urges if she was going to pull this off. It was time to start thinking like an uppity, homewrecking, slutty, and stupid cunt at every waking moment. What would Angie do would become her one and only question. In most cases, the answer was bitch, and/or fuck. Easy.

Even though Angie's clothes were the total opposite of what she'd have chosen, she could not deny a small thrill at the sheer number of choices she had to pick from, and all of them purchased new. No Goodwill for Angie. Angela decided against a bra, donning a cropped white top that stretched enticingly over her big tits, through which her nipples were clearly visible. She'd considered whether Angie would have gone sans-panties, but then decided it would probably be more like her to wear them, and then end up selling her jizz-covered panties to someone after she'd let them jerk off onto her crotch.

She met Brad in the lobby of the apartment complex.

"Ready, Princess?" Brad asked.

"Yeah."

She followed Brad to the waiting car, where she took the passenger seat. Brad looked at her curiously as he got in on his side.

"So, Brad," She began, "I was thinking. Do you really have to take me to school?"

"Daddy's commands are my job." He said.

"What's the point? It's not like a few more days are going to make a difference. I mean, I'm gonna graduate, but cheating on a few more tests isn't likely to improve my education. Why don't you just drop me at the Horizon store on 6th, and then go take care of the car. You can pick me up after."

Brad shook his head and said, "No can do, Princess. I'd be in some shit if your dad found out."

"If he finds out, just tell him you did your job and dropped me off. It's not your fault that I skipped school afterwards. It's not your job to follow me around and make sure I go to class, right?" Angela argued.

"Why would I do that?" Brad asked, starting the car.

"Because I'll suck you off on the way to school."

"You'll do that anyway, unless you want me to tell him about the incident. Two black guys in his penthouse? Can you just imagine the load of shit you'd be in?"

Angie reached into his lap and began to fondle his cock through his pants.

"Well, how about when you pick me up later, I let you fuck me for the rest of the day?"

Brad's cock jumped in her hand.

"You serious?" He asked.

"I'm not giving it up in the back seat, but if you get a room, yeah. What do you say? All you have to do is drop me off, cover for me," she leaned in seductively, making her cleavage even more enticing, and whispered hotly in his ear, "and then you can spend the whole rest of the day shoving your cock in me as hard as you want."

She unzipped his pants and reached in, fingering his dick.

"I think I can make that happen." Brad agreed, grinning.

Angela pulled his penis free of his pants and leaned over it, wincing inwardly. This was the path home. Resigned, she put her lips around his cockhead.

"Oh, fuck... "Brad groaned, and added, "I can't pull out real well if I'm driving."

Angela pulled his cock from her mouth and said, "I was just in a bad mood yesterday. You don't have to pull out. Now, or later."

She resumed her task, fondling Brad's balls through his pants as she worked her mouth over his stiff stalk. Imagining what he would do to the girl later, Brad did not last long. True to her word, Angela gulped and swallowed his cum before tucking his sated penis away. She adjusted her top, licking her lips clean as she sat back in the seat. Even as she thought that sucking him off wasn't so bad this time, and even a little exciting, the world around her shimmered for that brief instant. She'd made the right choice. One step closer.

On 6th Street, Brad stopped the car and let her out, then drove off to take care of her vehicle. It felt very strange to be out in town on a school day. Angela had never missed a day of school in her life. Even on days when she'd been sick, she'd managed to get her homework and do something to further her academic pursuits. Then again, the whole point now was to do everything the opposite of what she'd always done. She was a slutty ultra-bitch until she was back where she belonged.

She found the phone store easily enough. A red logo reading "Horizon" was close enough to her own. She waited outside the door the 15 minutes until the place opened. The salesman was very attentive as he ogled her tits, easily locating her account with her father's name.

"It looks like you had insurance for theft, so I'll activate the line with a new one. You want the same phone?" He asked.

"Is there anything better? That one was getting boring." She replied.

"We have the WozPad 14+ now."

"Cool!"

The salesman retrieved one from the stockroom, and spent the next 30 minutes initializing it and transferring the old line to the new. While she waited, Angela had time to let her fears creep back into her head. She'd never had sex, and now she was suddenly going to have to fuck her way back home. How many dicks was she going to have to suck? How many men would she have to give her body to? What amount of total depravity was going to be enough for the pendant to decide that she was Angie enough to get back? It wasn't like there was some visible meter of slutdom filling up that she could watch.

After sucking off Brad this morning, she was sure that the shift back to her own existence had been longer, but if she hadn't been so adept at keeping measurements, she wouldn't have even noticed the difference. The shifts so far had lasted less than a second. In order to get home, they'd have to last long enough for her to actually be present, and then have time to destroy the stone while she was still where she belonged. That would mean she'd need several seconds at the very least. Then, how easy was the stone to break? Could she throw it on the ground and shatter it? Would she need to hammer the thing to break it? Did something like this require the fires of Mt. Doom to destroy? Unfortunately, there were no practice runs in something like this.

The salesman handed her the new WozPad, a name which made her chuckle inside. She could just imagine what Jobs would have thought about his old partner being the one on top of things. She took the phone, without so much as a thank you. Using the selfie cam, she snapped a picture of her generous cleavage, then posted it to her "The Facebook" account with a string of little drooling emojis. The previous evening, she'd learned that Angie was very much into posting photos of herself being a cocktease.

Angela left the store and crossed the street to a coffee shop, where she ordered a latte with DupliDale's card, complained about the way it was made, and then rudely accepted the second one. She did not tip the barista. The world shimmered as she took a seat and tapped at the phone. Still less than a second.

The phone chimed with "sync complete" and a sudden flurry of message notifications flooded the screen. Angie was very popular. Angie was also a very busy whore, in the most literal sense. She had 20 different messages from the previous day, and 2 from this morning, all clients that she recognized from Angie's spreadsheet. She copy-pasted a message to all of them that she'd lost her phone and just gotten it back. If they were still interested, she wrote, message again.

One reply was almost instantaneous, from a man named Arnold. Angela pulled up her mentally saved copy of the sheet, accessed Arnold, and realized that it was fairly close. He had an apartment over on 3rd. She messaged back that she'd be over soon. Angela finished most of her latte, "accidentally" spilled the rest on the table, and left it for someone else to clean up. Before leaving, she made a stop in the restroom, used the entire roll of paper, and made sure that the toilet was clogged and overflowed, just for good measure. She was rewarded with a familiar shimmer as she pushed open the door to the coffee shop.

The walk to Arnold's apartment was a short one. She took the elevator up to his floor, located the apartment number from the sheet, and knocked. A moment later, a black man around her father's age answered.

"Hey, baby! Come on in here." He said happily.

Angela took a breath and stepped inside, her insides knotted with fear. This was her 3rd sexual experience, but it felt different. Brad, while a stranger, was still an employee of her faux-father. There had been some degree of safety in that. This guy was a total unknown. She knew from the sheet that Arnold never wanted anything more than blowjobs, but Angie had labeled the "service" provided as "rough face-fucking". No further details had been supplied.

"Damn, you lookin' cute today, bitch. How about we get right to this shit?" Arnold said, "My dick's been achin' for this since the last time. Swear to Judas, you got me hooked on that sweet fuckin' mouth. You' gonna break my bank, but it's worth it."

"I love to suck it." Angela said, as sultry as she could manage.

"Yeah, I know you bitches do love that big black dick. Bet you sorry daddy aint into fuckin' white pussy, ain't you?"

Angela nodded her head, not sorry in the least. Arnold threw a pillow on the floor in front of her, and then handed her $100. She stuffed the bill into her purse, set it beside her on the floor and knelt.

"Will you do something for me?" Angela asked.

"What you need baby?"

She offered him her phone and asked, "Will you record it this time, so I can finger my pussy to it later?"

Arnold laughed and said, "Yeah, girl. I can do that. You know, I do love that about you. You're a kinky bitch. I better not see that shit online, though. I ain't got no license to make porn."

"It's just for me." Angela assured him.

Viewing Angie's personal files had proved a wealth of sexual education. Her other self was very... photogenic. Watching the numerous videos of herself being utterly demeaned, degraded, and used had been a surreal experience. To this point, Angie's sluttish activities had been some distant thing that Angela was aware of, but hadn't had much experience with outside of blowing Brad. Now, here she was, just like in Angie's videos. Based on what she'd seen, though, this was the easy part. Angie was a true amateur porno queen, taking on 3, 4, or more guys at a time in some of her more outlandish recordings. Angela was not looking forward to that experience.

Arnold began his recording, focusing the camera down on the kneeling teen.

"Tell daddy what you want, baby." He said smoothly.

Angela looked up at the camera and said, "I want to suck your big black cock, daddy."

"Go on 'n pull it out, then."

Angela shakily reached for the man's shorts and undid them, letting them fall to the floor. She did her best to hide the terror that she felt at the sight of the enormous bulge in Arnold's tight boxer briefs. Hooking her fingers into the waistband, she pulled them down his legs. His cock sprang free, slapping against her cheek as she peeled the briefs down. He stepped out of them. Angela wrapped her hand around the thick black staff and gave it a few experimental pumps, feeling it grow beneath her fingers.

What the fuck? She thought. Brad had been big, but this was at least a couple of inches longer, and thicker. She prayed that Angie wasn't a pro at putting the entire thing down her throat. Two reluctant blowjobs had not prepared her to get 9 inches of meat stuffed into her mouth!

"That's what you like, ain't it baby?"

"Uh huh." Angela said, entranced by the big, hot tool.

"Open up for daddy, now girl."

Angela opened her mouth, and Arnold pushed the fat head of his cock between her lips, stretching them wide. She panicked as the big shaft slipped further into her mouth, splitting her jaw open. There seemed to be no end to it as Arnold put his hand on her head and pushed inch after inch into her, until his pulsing crown touched the back of her throat, making her gag.

"Gukh!"

Arnold laughed and held his penis still, saying, "Good girl. That's just what I like."

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she relaxed her throat and breathed through her nose. She turned her eyes up toward the man and looked into the camera lens.

"Now that is so sexy. Just look at that little white mouth all cute and stretched around that dick. Bet you'd love to see how that shit would feel openin' up that little pussy, huh?"

"Mmm hmm." Angela attempted to reply.

"Sorry baby. You gonna have to keep dreamin'. I only let white bitches suck it."

Arnold pulled his cock back a few inches, and then worked it back in. He began to pump his hips in a slow rhythm, coating his big shaft with her saliva. The veiny ridges of his penis slipped back and forth across Angela's tongue as she swallowed a froth of saliva that built up in her mouth, having nowhere else to go. Her lips were a tight seal around the cock, practically a vacuum.

"Fuck yeah." Arnold growled, "Fuckin' mouth on you, girl. Lemme see them pretty eyes. Just like that."

Angela kept her eyes on him as well as she could, while Arnold's pace began to quicken. His fingers twined into her hair, holding it in his fist. Angela's eyes watered now as he began his assault on her face in earnest. His prick was like a piston, repeatedly forcing its way into her throat, making her gag and sputter, blowing spit bubbles out around the tight seal of her lips on each thrust inward. She placed her hands on his legs to support herself as the black man used her mouth.

"That's it, slut. Hang on for the ride. Fuck I love how sweet your face looks stuffed full of that dick. Gonna have to get me a second job so I can get this shit every day! Damn, look at those little tears bitch!"

"Gak! Gak! Gak!" issued from Angela's stuffed mouth. Arnold was making short, hard thrusts into her now, his dick barely leaving the entrance of her throat, seemingly determined to get the entire length into her, but it just wouldn't go. She felt his cock lurching against her tongue, the end coming on fast. His cockhead seemed to expand to fill her entire mouth.

"Here it comes, baby. Swallow daddy's cum. Here it comes!"

Angela braced herself, her head light, vision blurred by tears as Arnold made one last sharp thrust and then roared. His legs shook and then a torrent of hot jizz exploded from his cock straight down Angela's throat. She worked and worked to swallow it, but there was just so damn much. The shots of cum began to pool in her mouth, too much to swallow at once. Arnold, still gripping her hair tightly, held his penis in her mouth as the flow of semen began to ebb. Angela gulped, gulped, gulped, and then finally she managed to choke the last of it down, feeling nauseated as the thick goo filled her stomach.

"Ah, shit!" Arnold said, sliding his dick from her mouth, "That was a big one. Hot damn."

Angela sucked in air, feeling like she'd been denied breathing all day. She bent double and through her clouded vision saw drops of spit and cum drip from her gasping mouth onto the carpet. She coughed, sucked air, coughed again, and wiped at her eyes with her hand. A momentary feeling of triumph at having successfully sucked off her first client washed over her. For an instant, the world shimmered. The color of the carpet changed from brown to green, and then it was gone. She was closer. At what cost, though? She'd just whored her mouth out to a strange black man to pump his semen into. How much more of this could she handle?

Arnold, at last, removed his hand from her head. Angela looked up, face to face with his wet, half-hard penis, dripping with her phlegm. One thing was for sure. She was never going to buy jewelry again.

Outside of Arnold's apartment, she rooted through her backpack, then stuffed two pieces of gum into her mouth. On some level, her mind registered that the aftertaste of Arnold's cum was not as unpleasant as Brad's had been, and she wondered how diet might affect the taste of semen. She forced that thought away. Angie wouldn't care about that. Angie would just be happy to have a stomach full of cum and some extra money.