Invasion of the Pussy-Snatchers Act 03: Sherri's Story

After checking in, a receptionist in an inner office directed Sherri to a small waiting room. Sherri tried awkwardly to flirt with the pretty, young receptionist but she was all business. She called for the next person in line without even giving Sherri the time of day. There was only one other person in the waiting room with Sherri. She was a pretty, middle-aged woman with long, straight brown hair. She looked a little worse for the wear, her clothes were dirty and rumpled like she hadn't changed in a few days and her hair looked dirty and tangled. She didn't even notice when Sherri walked in. The woman's body shook and she rocked back and forth as she murmured quietly to herself. She almost looked like a junkie dying for a fix. Though she couldn't quite explain it, Sherri felt like she already had some sort of connection with this woman. She really was quite pretty; If she weren't so strung out and wild looking Sherri definitely would have started flirting with her by now. Sherri couldn't help noticing the wedding band surrounding the finger on her left hand.

Sherri could feel her Hivesister closer to her now that she had ventured toward the rear of the building. She must not want to talk right now though, she wasn't returning any of Sherri's sendings. At least the pain had ceased as near as Sherri could tell. Maybe Sherri's damsel in distress was licking her wounds at the moment.

Having no idea how long she would have to wait, Sherri grabbed a magazine from a nearby bin and sat down on one of the felt-padded chairs with wooden armrests. The room didn't even have a TV in it. The periodical she read was an issue of Southern Living, a magazine Sherri had never read before. Her only other choices were Time or People magazine so she chose the most reasonably entertaining of the three options. Sherri read the entire magazine front to back and realized that she still hadn't been called. She had to have been sitting there for nearly two hours. How irritating.

Sherri sighed deeply with impatience and the other woman finally noticed she wasn't alone after having shared the room with Sherri for hours. Sherri smiled at the stranger and said, "Good morning! Or is it afternoon already? Feels like I've been sitting here forever."

The woman sat silently for a moment and then confessed, "I'm not really sure any more."

The woman seemed to have it together enough that Sherri no longer suspected she was a drug addict. The woman just seemed tired and sort of sad. "So how are you today?" Sherri asked, trying to make some sort of light conversation.

The woman laughed softly and said, "I've been better, I think. But I guess I shouldn't complain."

Sherri held her hand out to the other woman and introduced herself. "I'm Sherri."

The woman eyed Sherri's hand suspiciously for a few seconds before taking it. "Sharon." Her grip lingered for a few seconds longer than necessary before releasing Sherri's hand.

Sharon seemed distracted, so Sherri paged through her second magazine of the morning. It was a celebrity gossip rag, and though she enjoyed some of the pictures of hot female celebrities Sherri was irritated by the vapid content of the magazine. She did have to laugh when she read a story about all of Taylor Swift's confirmed and rumored boyfriends. There were going to be quite different rumors about Taylor in these pages soon, Sherri thought. Occasionally she looked up from her magazine to peer at Sharon. She appeared to be on the wrong side of her thirties, maybe nine or ten years older than Sherri if she had to guess. Looking at the shellshocked look in Sharon's eyes got to Sherri after a while and she had to look away and go back to reading her magazine. She was used to others being disturbed by the look in her eyes, not the other way around.

"Excuse me, Sherri?" Sherri looked up from the magazine to see Sharon had moved a few seats closer to her though there was still a chair between them. "I'm sorry to bother you again."

"It's no bother," Sherri said as she set the magazine aside. "What can I do for you?"

"I just need someone to talk to," Sharon admitted. Sherri was surprised at the desperation she heard in Sharon's voice. "I haven't talked to someone who wasn't a police officer since yesterday. This is all wrong. The whole damn thing is wrong."

"What happened?" Sherri asked.

"I don't know exactly," Sharon slowly said after a moment of thought. "Something strange. Something wonderful. I met someone yesterday who... She showed me things. Things I never thought I could experience, never thought I could ever feel." The fervor in Sharon's voice was amazing as she spoke. "She made me do it... At first I was resistant but then all of a sudden I had never wanted anything more in my life. It was never a question for me. It wasn't rape."

Sharon's face fell to her hands. "It wasn't rape," she reiterated as she began weeping. "But they are still going to hurt her and take her away from me."

Sherri had to hold her jaw firm to prevent her mouth from dropping open in shock. No wonder she felt a connection to Sharon; she had been recently Initiated. Sharon likely had not been fed in nearly a day though. Soon she would be starving for Essence. Sharon would first begin to feel thirstier than she'd ever felt in her life. Then she would become ill as if she were famished but couldn't be sated by any amount of food. Eventually the lack of Essence caused an Initiated woman to go into shock, then succumb to a coma, and then suffer death. Human authorities who had managed to reclaim a few Initiated women before they could be taken to the Queen had been shocked by the rapid deterioration of the survivors. They died in less than three days after their last taste of Essence, succumbing to unconsciousness before they could breath a word of their scant knowledge of the Hive. Tasting the come of a Hivesister was only a temporary remedy to this malady. The only cure was to submit to the Queen and let yourself be assimilated by the Hive. That was how the Queen ensured control over those still unsworn to the Hive.

Sherri opened her mouth and was about to reveal her true nature to Sharon when a man in a suit and tie threw the door open and stepped into the waiting room. He surveyed the room as if he expected danger in every corner. Sherri supposed he would be considered ruggedly handsome, but he looked like a block of muscled machismo to her.

The man walked over to Sharon and shook her shoulder as he demanded, "Why do you refuse to press charges, Sharon? After what she did to you!"

"I don't want to press charges, Tom," Sharon begged. "Please don't make me."

Evidently this was Sharon's husband. He seemed like a lovely person. Tom grabbed Sharon by her wrist and said menacingly, "You at least need to make a statement for the record. We can't process her or do anything until you do. Come with me." He held his grip tightly around Sharon's wrist and pulled her to her feet so roughly that it looked like he was trying to pull her arm out of its socket.

"Please, Tom," Sharon pleaded. "You're hurting me."

"Stop being such a bitch about this and maybe I wouldn't have to," her husband grumbled.

Sherri felt furious at the way Sharon's husband treated her. My God, what an unbelievable asshole, Sherri thought. She stood up prepared to tell him off when the door to the waiting room opened first. A female police officer in full uniform poked her head in. She tipped her hat to this Tom and said, "They are ready for you, Captain Skern." She nodded to Sharon as well. "Mrs. Skern."

"Come on," Tom said as he practically dragged his wife behind him. "Let's get this over with."

Sherri got a better look at the policewoman's face as the officer held the door open for Sharon and her husband. Sherri felt her heart skip a beat when she realized she knew her. Suddenly, it seemed like all the jigsaw pieces to this puzzle she had been trying and failing to solve fit neatly into place. Sherri knew now exactly how she could accomplish her escape plan.

The police officer began to leave when Sherri walked up behind her. Sherri tapped the policewoman on the shoulder. "Oh, Brandy," Sherri called in her sing-songy voice.

The officer turned around with surprise. "Sherri!" she exclaimed. Brandy pulled Sherri into a bear of a hug. "What are you doing here? You look fantastic by the way!"

"Oh, thanks," Sherri said bashfully as she hugged Brandy back. "You look very... imposing in your uniform." Sherri pulled away and held Brandy's solid arms as she looked her friend over.

Brandy puffed out her chest which made her already generous bosom show even more prominently through her uniform. Both women laughed uncontrollably until they doubled over and laid hands on each other for support. Brandy hadn't seen any of the old crew in forever. It felt great to see someone she knew well enough that she could actually act like herself around. She had become painfully used to acting stoic and emotionless all the time while working.

"Really, why are you here?" Brandy asked after she recovered.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about that," Sherri said as she adjusted Brandy's collar for her. "But first, how are you?"

"Oh, you know, just living life," Brandy said with a wave of her hand. "Catching bad guys and all."

She had always been rather nonchalant about being one of most badass police officers, male or female, that the upper East Coast had ever seen. She had won tournaments as a black belt in Tae Kwon Doe and had won multiple contests for accuracy at the police shooting range back in NYC. Damn, this is who I should have had teaching me how to shoot, Sherri thought.

"How about you?" Brandy asked. "Do you still work at the bar?"

Brandy was an attractive blonde-haired, blue eyed woman close to Sherri's age. Brandy had medium-length hair that she had tied into braids and hid beneath her cap. Underneath Brandy's bulky uniform Sherri knew there was a stocky, muscular physique with some of the strongest and most tell-toned legs that had ever been wrapped around Sherri's body. Even after all this time Sherri could still remember perfectly how Brandy looked underneath her clothes. She should certainly be able to recall considering she had seen Brandy naked more times than she could count.

Brandy had been a regular customer at Curvy back when she still worked for the NYPD. She practically lived there when she was off-duty. The NYPD had been accepting of her sexual orientation as long as it didn't affect her work and she didn't rub her male coworker's faces in it. So she acted completely straight and narrow on the job but once she got to her favorite bar she allowed herself to cut loose and act completely wild with other beautiful women.

When Sherri first started tending bar at Curvy two years ago, Brandy had been her go-to hookup during her short breaks. Fifteen minutes every four hours didn't leave much time for anything. What a joke. Sherri didn't have to do any more than snap her fingers to convince Brandy to follow her to the bathroom. They would always take the restroom stall on the farthest end closest to the wall. Brandy would lick and finger Sherri as the bartender sat on the edge of the toilet lid. They would finish just in time to share a quick cigarette outside before Sherri had to get back to work. Sherri had such little time that to have a bathroom break she would sometimes have to pee before or after their little dalliances with Brandy still in the stall with her. Brandy had never been brave enough to allow Sherri to use her urine in a more creative fashion, but Brandy certainly enjoyed watching Sherri piss up close. A couple times, she even helped wipe Sherri clean after she was finished urinating.

If their favorite stall was already occupied by lesbians enjoying their own tryst, Sherri invoked her employee privileges by forcing them to find another place to hook up or requiring them to join in on the fun. God, how the hell did we fit four women in those tiny stalls, Sherri wondered. But they had done it, and had their tongues and hands all over each other's bodies in a contest to try and make everyone come before Sherri's break ended. That was the golden age at Curvy; it hadn't been quite the same since Brandy left. Just not as much fun without Brandy's bright smile, her game for anything attitude and her wild antics. That is, not as much fun until it became the unofficial hangout spot for the Hive in Manhattan.

Brandy started a pretty serious relationship with a woman she knew through work employed at the district attorney's office in New York City. She went to Curvy less and less since her girlfriend didn't drink and Sherri eventually had to find new girls to hook up with at work. Finally, Brandy moved to Boston about a year ago when her partner got a new job there. From what Sherri heard through mutual friends, the relationship hadn't worked out but Brandy liked Boston so much that she decided to stay. Sherri felt guilty that she hadn't really tried to contact Brandy or find out how she was doing during the time they had been apart. But she knew that wasn't the type of thing that bothered Brandy, she could never hold a grudge. Their friendship picked right up where they left it as if it were only a day they were apart rather than a year.

While stuck in traffic, Sherri had idly wondered if she might run into Brandy while she was in Boston. She couldn't believe her luck that her old friend worked in the exact same police station that Sherri had been tasked with infiltrating. Sherri would use Brandy unrepentantly and if she played her cards right the Hive might soon be able to add a member of law enforcement to its growing ranks.

"I'm doing pretty well," Sherri answered of Brandy's question. "And yes, I'm still working at Curvy. We miss you though. It hasn't been the same since you left." Hasn't been the same since a week ago either, Sherri thought.

"I know," Brandy sighed. "We had some good times, didn't we?" Brandy said this with a wink. "I really should get up to NYC some weekend when I'm off-duty and visit the bar for old time's sake."

"Yeah, that would be fantastic. I know lots of new patrons who would just love to meet you." Sherri returned the wink. "Your reputation precedes you."

"Ha ha, I'm sure," Brandy laughed. "I guess my exploits there were pretty legendary."

Sherri wondered if Brandy was referring to the night when Margie threw a private birthday party for her girlfriend Carly and rented out the entire bar. Sherri had been feeding Brandy free drinks all night and she drank until she was completely destroyed. Brandy did a striptease for all the partiers while they cheered and threw dollar bills at her. After she had removed all her clothes, Brandy laid naked on top of the bar and declared that everyone in the bar could do whatever they wanted to her body. The private birthday party had become a private sex party.

Sherri closed the window blinds lest anyone outside get a free show. Fortunately, they had a bouncer outside the entrance ensuring that no one got in without an invitation. Nearly everyone took a turn sitting on Brandy's face while several women stood in a line waiting to lick and finger her pussy. Sherri had even taken a ride. Sherri poured shots of tequila down Brandy's throat before pouring liquor on Brandy's chest and stomach for women to slurp off her body prior to fucking her. Brandy normally didn't enjoy having her ass played with, but she had said they could do anything they wanted to her. Plus she was terribly drunk which made her even more willing. There was an unspoken contest over who could fit the most inside Brandy's ass. While they couldn't squeeze an entire fist inside, one woman did manage to fit four fingers in Brandy's butt. Brandy's constant moaning was muffled by the women sitting over her mouth.

Margie had the bright idea to have the birthday girl join Brandy. Carly stripped down and laid alongside Brandy. The two made out and fondled each other's breasts while two lines formed with women waiting patiently to eat their pussies. Sherri serviced both women at the same time, licking Carly while she fingerbanged Brandy and then switching between women. Sherri wondered if Brandy remembered how many women she had sex with that night. Then again, Sherri would be shocked if Brandy remembered anything at all about that night.

"So how exactly can I help you?" asked Brandy.

"Actually, I'm here to see someone," Sherri said. "She's... well, to be honest she's here because she's been arrested."

Brandy let surprise show on her face for a mere instant before she said, "Oh. I see. Girlfriend of yours?"

"Just a friend, no 'girl' in front of it," Sherri replied. "I was wondering if you could get me in to see her. Privately. Not like one of those visits where we have to talk through a pane of glass."

"Sorry Sherri," said Brandy with a shake of her head. "But we are not allowed to do that. Regulations and procedures, you know."

"Please?" Sherri pleaded. "Just this one time. As a favor for me." Sherri caressed Brandy's muscled arm. "It would mean a lot to me."

Brandy sighed. She sometimes hated how suggestible she became when it was a pretty lady doing the asking. "What's her name?" she finally asked.

Sherri stared blankly for a short moment. Had the Queen ever said her full name? Then she heard a voice speak inside her head. {Candace Clark}

"Candace," Sherri answered. "Candace Clark."

Brandy bit her lip. How did she know it would be that one? "I don't think you can see her," Brandy said. "She is in big big trouble."

"For what?" Sherri asked. "From what I heard, the worst thing she did was have sex with someone of the same gender in a parked car. Big deal. It's the twenty-first century."

"Did you see that guy that was just in here?" Brandy said with exasperation. Sherri just did not fucking get it. "Tom Skern is a police captain and it was his wife Candace was diddling."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah, kind of a big deal. Especially considering how Captain Skern is practically worshipped around here," said Brandy with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh yeah?" Sherri asked with an eyebrow raised. "Tell me about him."

"Well first of all, he is a living legend," Brandy started explaining. "When he was only a detective, he had the highest arrest rate for investigated crimes by a single officer in the city's history. Basically, the model cop. Of course, he's also racist, sexist, and a complete brute but that never seems to come up during his yearly evaluation."

"So you're saying he got what was coming to him," Sherri stated.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that," Brandy said with a half-smirk. "I'm just saying that you have to understand who you're dealing with here."

"So can you let me see Candace or not?" Sherri pleaded. "I promise I won't ask another favor ever again."

"Oh, I highly doubt that." Brandy sighed with resignation. "Well, follow me. We need to make this quick."

Brandy used her scancard to unlock doors to areas the public normally had no access to. As Brandy led Sherri to the room containing the holding cells she looked back and said, "You know, I wouldn't normally do something like this. But Candace hasn't talked to anyone since being incarcerated. No friends, no family. Not even a lawyer. I just want to make sure she can exercise her rights."

"Uh huh," Sherri said unconvinced. Sure it was for exactly that reason, Sherri thought. Not because you remember how well I use my tongue or how delicious I taste. Sherri stared at Brandy's bottom as Brandy walked in front of her. Even the bulky police uniform with a utility belt holding over a dozen items couldn't hide how well-toned Brandy's ass was. Her bottom had just the perfect amount of fat on it and Sherri gritted her teeth as she watched its wiggle when Brandy walked.