MS. WTF?!! - REBOOTED!!

"Oh yeah, that's the one where Rock Hudson gets like, all over plastic surgery to look young again. OH SHIT, ARE YOU SAYING...?!!"

"Yeah, it's on that level and since I'm here this little bitch thinks she'd gonna use me as her fucking emotional tampon. "

"You got a picture of her?"

"PHOEBE!"

"Well I'm just saying I'd like to see how she turned out, maybe get the name of her plastic surgeon?"

"Come on, I thought you were supposed to be helping me."

"I am, you aren't talking about what she did to make you mad enough to call my bloated ass, so that's one for me in the win column the way I see it. Now, I want you to get a pic of her and the number of her doctor because I'm definitely gonna need a touchup after this baby arrives."

"Anything else, like a lock of her hair?" I replied sarcastically making Phoebe laugh. Suffice it to say, this woman literally had a Betty Rubble type laugh.

"Don't be that way, besides you're gonna end up sleeping with her anyway."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are; are you forgetting who you are and have been for over a year now? You guys are gonna be turd flinging monkeys for a little bit, have some kind of big blowup and then end up screwing the stuffing out of one another between the sheets. You can't change your nature." It felt like she was making fun of me, but I also knew her raging hormones were fueling her responses to my situation.

"Bullshit."

"I'll bet you a thousand dollars that you end up knee deep in that monster ass of hers before the week is over."

"Cut it out."

"Oh so you're saying I'm right?"

"I ain't saying nothing."

"Then why are we talking pussy? Aw man just go fuck her and make her part of your little clique again. Geez, you're such a man-gyna these days. Lighten the fuck up and stop wasting my time. You know you're gonna fuck her anyway and then when I ask you about it, you're gonna get that dumbass look on your face." Phoebe's hormones were spiking. She always became a whirlwind of varying emotion when this happened.

"I AIN'T FUCKING HER!!"

"Then bet money, REAL FUCKING MONEY!!" Phoebe challenged again making me growl.

"OKAY!!"

"We're betting?"

"Yeah.

"EASIEST THOUSAND DOLLARS I EVER MADE!!" Phoebe started whooping and chortling really loud as I noticed some movement in the background. In seconds I realized that I was looking at her father who seemed to be taking in the whole conversation making me smirk.

"Phoebe?"

"Yes, what is it my betting mark?" She was gloating.

"Can I see them?"

"Huh?"

"The titties." She stopped laughing in my face getting rosy in the cheeks with a hand pressed to her bosom.

"Where'd that come from?"

"They must be huge by now; you know bigger than the last time we did it? I can't see anything; just show me some titty baby." Phoebe flushed crimson with both hands pressed into her bust. She was visible from the top of her head to just below her shoulders. Her father leaned into the door. I gathered maybe Phoebe was sitting on a stool or the floor from his elevated vantage point.

"Well, okay I guess it's alright between us; you can take some screen shots to jerk off if you want. I'm gonna need a dick pick if I can't score here, okay? Man. My boobs are so swollen and sore. I wish you were here to suck my titties and maybe fuck'em a little."

"You gonna show me?"

"Oh sure, here you go; luckily, I took off my maternity bra an hour ago because they were hurting so bad." Phoebe jostled about in her seat unaware her father was standing now just inside the open doorway of her room. There was this glint in his eye that made me want to alert her, but I needed the burn since she called me out. The screen shook as she set the phone down giving me a view of her massive chest hidden behind a flowered muumuus.

"Oh yeah, hurry up girl; show me those titties."

"Here you go babe." Phoebe replied breezily in an infantile tone gathering up handfuls of the billowy material covering her torso. I didn't have the nerve to tell her this particular top looked as if it had been stolen from Pennywise the clown.

"WHOA!"

Phoebe had indeed gone up another size or two presenting me with two big semi-paled melons that filled up the facetime screen of my simple android phone. Her erect nipples were covered by maternity pasties now too small leaving their circumference surrounded by her darkened saucer sized nipples. Phoebe cupped the undersides giving them a healthy squeeze. True to her words, streams of lactation ran freely from under the pasties.

"PHOEBE GAWD-DAMMIT WHAT THE HELL, ARE YOU DOING?!!" His hand collided with the back of her head in a mostly ceremonial slap designed to demonstrate his anger. Phoebe shrieked as my view became skewed facing the carpet in her bedroom.

"FATHER, WHAT'RE YOU DOING IN HERE?!!"

"MY DAUGHTER'S GOT HERSELF ONE OF THOSE ONLY FANS THINGIES!!" The elderly man yelled half coughing while Phoebe squawked and whined cutting the feed. My end of things went black, but I laughed for a few minutes receiving a follow up text with a devil emoji. It seems, Phoebe realized my prank.

I was thankfully distracted by the doorbell as more angry texts came in scolding me. I found a delivery guy there peeking through the high-tech peep hole which was designed to give one a top to bottom curvilinear view of the corridor just outside the door. I was given the impression Shawnee was a bit paranoid regarding her home besides the already demonstrated micromanagement of her kitchen.

I was aware of her "work" on the down low but knew I probably wouldn't be able to ask her about it due to our immediate acrimonious reunion.

A large rectangular object wrapped in brown paper was delivered first. I was curious enough to mess with it figuring out a framed photo lay in wait underneath. Almost immediately two more packages arrived which I determined to be art supplies. I strolled back into the living room taking stock of the surroundings finding some shelving there with a few sparse items that seemed to belong to her. I found a cracked Rolex watch and what appeared to be a solid gold lighter flanking a plexiglass framed certificate of completion.

Shawnee Thompson had gotten her G.E.D.

I was curious sort of scared and apprehensive that she continued her work probably now as some ort of high class call girl for people enamored of the plus sized and thick. After being mentally shattered in the past, Shawnee had taken to sex work in the sun shine state and seemed intent on never returning to our mutual hometown. Despite the trappings it was decidedly a weary path traveled along the low road that probably led to this luxury apartment. The doorbell rang again with another package being delivered or so I thought.

"Who are you?"

I found myself being question upon sight by this big jacked up guy in workout clothes who looked to be of Polynesian descent. This dreadlocked guy looked like Jason Mamoa's fucking stunt double with half of his face sporting some menacing looking tribal tattoos.

"A visitor." I replied even keeled cursing myself internally for not looking through the peep hole. There was no way I was making that mistake a second time if I didn't get my arm ripped off and used as a club to beat me to death.

"No really what are you doing here and does Shawnee know you're up in her place?!" He was more insistent this time.

"And you are, sir?"

"I'm the guy who's gonna be kicking your ass if anything's happened to my girl. You gonna have to come up off some I.D. at the very least." My ego was spiked again taking my rational side hostage in a chokehold.

"You security or something?"

"You gonna wish security were here; is she in here? Where's she at dude, huh? You needs to speak up in the next three seconds before I get to dumping on your ass right up in this doorway! Screw that, I'm coming inside!"

The guy placed the flat of his hand on the door half ignoring me looking right at the secure bedroom doors. I was prepared to go down with the Titanic when he surged forward but stopped short when he noticed my luggage just inside the doorway.

"OH, YOU'RE WITH RASHIDA, RIGHT?!!" His mood changed drastically.

"Yeah."

"Aw man I'm so sorry about getting alpha with you but there were so many red flags when you just opened up the door like you lived here. My name's Koa Venegas and I'm Shawnee's personal trainer, and sometimes friend. You just never know with her from one day to the next." We shook hands as I secretly breathed a sigh of relief introducing myself.

We made small talk as the last of Shawnee's packages arrived.

"Hey Koa, how do you know Rashida?"

"I met her last time she was here a while back when Shawnee was just starting her training with me. She'd just had her rhinoplasty and was a little shaky. She confided in us that she was humiliated after getting rolled by some skinny woman she used to work with. Shawnee was already really fragile so I offered them some self defense courses but their friend nixed the idea. It was weird because that female acted like she was their mother or something."

"Ah forget about her, she ain't around anymore." I commented cutting him off before he could say her name.

"Yeah there was something really off about her energy even though she was wifey material."

"Wifey material in hell." I cut in monotone making him chuckle.

"So, if you wanna hang out we can go out to some clubs with the ladies; how long have you been dating Rashida?"

"Oh no bruh, I'm just a FWB and personal valet this weekend; actually I'm more of a personal valet than anything else."

"Wishful thinking?" He commented.

"How long uh, with you and Shawnee?" I shot back casually getting a visual denial as he answered.

"It's a miracle just getting her out for a bite, much less a date. I mean, I kinda wanted it but then it would be sort of weird because of our trainer-trainee relationship. Back when we first started I had a really hard time getting her to believe I wasn't trying to get into her pants. Then we just sort of uh, drifted into the friend zone."

"Sorry, that sounds brutal."

"Yeah I guess, but I ended up getting back with my girl." Koa produced his phone showing me a pic of this ridiculously attractive Cuban woman with two very small children.

"Oh, you're married?"

"Been separated for a minute, but we're working it out. Funny, my wife thought Shawnee was the other girl for a minute, even tried running up on her. I had to cut back on some of our training sessions you know? Happy wife, happy life right buddy?"

"That's what they want you to think." I replied without hesitation making him laugh and pat me on the back.

"Man, I think you've got an old soul; wanna exchange numbers?"

"No homo?"

"Don't spoil it; I've got at least five women actively stalking me right now bro." We both chuckled and fist bumped exchanging numbers.

"Well, I'm gonna be going to the Days Inn down the way a bit; I'll call you up after I get a bite."

"Man don't go down there, it's a shit show and you're definitely gonna get rolled by some of our more colorful locals. Let me guess, Shawnee's giving you hella attitude, huh?"

"You must be psychic."

"Man, I almost ghosted her in those first few weeks because of the attitude; then, we just uh, got along. Sometimes I still think she's suspicious of me. A lot of guys just see one thing when it comes to Shawnee and it gets to her; really bothers her on a serious level. I taught her to channel those feelings into her workout regimen."

"And did a damn good job of it too; I didn't even know her when I got here today."

"But you knew her beforehand and knowing is half the battle. Look, I'm gonna get going to another appointment before she comes home and finds me in her place. That's a big no-no unless you're invited. Dude, just tough it out and DON'T go to that motel."

"I don't know, she's uh already getting on my nerves."

"Don't sweat it, just give her time to warm up to you; Shawnee's been through a lot and she's still damaged. Hey if it doesn't work out, you and Rashida can hit me up. I'll make sure you guys get someplace nice to stay for the weekend."

"Rashida is just fine; it's me she don't like." Koa chuckled checking his phone as I considered his words. If he hadn't mentioned my running buddy Ms. Sikes, I would've been worried he was hitting on me.

"Alright man,, I'm gone." I saw him out thinking over everything we discussed as I dialed up Rashida.

"HELLO?!!" I was immediately undated by the sound of some Latin sounding music as well as my charge's booming voice along with loud ambient chatter. Most of the background voices were speaking Spanish.

"WHEN YOU GETTING BACK?!!" I was obliged to shout so that she could hear my voice.

"Oh SHIT, LET ME CALL YOU BACK DADDY!!" She ended the call abruptly akin to slamming a door in my face for the second time. This triggered the hell out of me as I realized how fast I'd become the ugly duckling. I felt this charge of electric tinged rage flush through my body nearly flinging my phone against the wall before I caught myself.

"No, remember who you are and how you came to be." I told myself huffing walking about in a circle in the living room. Without a key I was effectively trapped inside this luxury high rise. This left me very little wiggle room effectively challenging me to make my choice to stay or leave.

"I gotta get my money." I remembered Shawnee owed me some coin for being there to collect her packages.

Since I was alone, I decided to make the best of the situation and find my inner grey rock before the women returned. Phoebe was the last person I'd allowed to get out of pocket and that was mostly due to her pregnancy. We didn't really have any bad blood between us unlike the two women who I presently keeping company with.

"No matter what, at least I'll make a grand." I remembered the bet with Phoebe as I undressed and squeezed into the inconvenient bathroom outside the closed off bedrooms.

I lathered up still thinking about that crazy sex filed weekend with a passion starved mother to be and all the drama that ensued. Still finding humor in getting Phoebe in trouble with her parent, I got cheeky lathering up stroking my cock to full hardness with my android filming in tight closeup. I'd never sent a dick pic before much less a video. Phoebe was indeed highly charged sexually speaking so I ramped up my actions putting some effort into it using her as my jerk off fuel until I shot a few ropes of cum hitting the tiled wall under the shower head.

"No hard feelings, I hope." I pressed send hoping she appreciated it.

My phone started ringing as I was drying myself off. Luckily, I'd had the foresight to pack some towels mostly out of habit. My android continually rang as I snapped it up finding Phoebe's number staring me in the face.

"Hello?"

"WHO IS THIS SENDING THIS FILTH TO MY DAUGHTER?!! I'M GONNA FIND YOU BUDDY WITH MY TWELVE GAUGE!! MY DAUGHTER IS NOT A PERVERT YOU BUM!! ARE YOU THE LOSER WHO GOT HER KNOCKED UP, HUH?!! COME OVER HERE AND I'LL PUT ONE ON YOUR GLASS JAW BOY!! HOW DARE YOU!! WHAT'S YOUR NAME, I'LL COME TO YOU!!" I grimaced at the booming sound of Phoebe's angry father.

"GIMME THAT PHONE!! YOU CAN'T JUST SNATCH IT OUT OF MY HAND LIKE THAT?!!" Phoebe yelled as I heard the sounds of a scuffle along with some shouting and knocked over furniture in the background.

"THIS IS MY LITTLE GIRL'S PHONE!! YOU HARLOT!! YOU'D BETTER NOT HAVE MY PHOEBE INVOLVED WITH THIS TRIFLING NIGGA BENTLEY!! I'M GONNA ERASE THIS, THIS PORNOGRAPHY!! MY PHOEBE IS A GOOD GIRL NOW!!"

"HENRY, THIS IS YOUR DAUGHTER!!" The third voice had to be Phoebe's mother.

"Daddy; you don't know me?" Things got uncomfortable real quick as I ended the call knowing it wasn't my place to listen.

I felt like an asshole.

Phoebe texted me saying that her father had been put to bed after receiving his medication. I knew she was going through it but wasn't surprised when she thanked me for the clip attaching a few pics of her swollen breasts in an unasked for trade. I decided I'd wait a day before following up with my friend.

Shawnee's fridge was expectantly bare bones especially after meeting her personal trainer. There wasn't much inside besides some bags of fruit a few containers of yogurt and bottled waters along with a few energy bars inside a plastic tumbler. It made sense considering what she was when we initially met. Shawnee was a verified couch potato almost continually eating which accounted for her whale like portions. She'd lucked out in that weight distribution leaving her with a hyper-zaftig figure that I'd first weaponized monetarily before she was wholesale exploited by another leading to this very apartment.

I got into some loose fitting sweats and an anime themed t-shirt going through one of the drawers on the island counter finding a plethora of flyers. After ordering up some local food I still checked the freezer finding what looked like popsicles seemingly vanilla flavor but quickly found the milky treat not to my liking trashing it before getting out my laptop. All of the televisions were behind the secure closed doors of Shawnee's bedrooms.

"Well, looks like its business as usual online at least." I plugged into a socket on the counter taking the stool.

Recent scenes involving a grifter I'd exposed where nominally popular, but Rashida Sikes a.k.a. Thunda was a perennial superstar driving up subscriptions enough that I made a note to call my accountant. At this point I was deceptively middle class economically speaking always looking for new ways to present the female talent on my website. My thoughts invariably drifted to Shawnee Thompson's former alter ego Ms. WTF. It was a thing of the past.

"I wonder if she'd treat you any differently." I pulled up some raw footage I'd shot in trade for payment to my recent "model" and fake cousin Sapphire. My habit of shooting tons of footage in a twenty-four hour period worked out in terms of making it look as if I was always shooting something new. Since nobody was around, it felt safe editing together a new scene for my growing viewers audience.

Sapphire Whyte's 46 1/2 inches were viewed walking the length of the alley at the back of my original house in her typically painted on daisy dukes. The loose watery jiggle of stretch marked cheeks made me wonder if most southern girls had this sort of nice, weathered looking butts. Her occupation as a stripper also factored in as my altered voice boomed loud enough from the laptop speakers making me use a headset.

"Hey what you doing round here?!!"

Seen from her twenty six inch waist downward, Sapphire ignored me walking along putting a little extra in her step to the added instrumental strains of "Int'l Players Anthem" by UKG playing at a fade in the audio background. I wanted to give her a sort of running theme consistent with her southern roots

"HEY?!! MS. LADY!! MS. LADY BITCH?!! YOU GON KEEP WALKING WHILE I'M FUCKING TALKING?!! MS. LADY BITCH?!!" My artificially deepened voice depicted a serious thug as I started moving forward at a clip just fast enough not to close the distance too quick.

The camera panned up her back view just as Sapphire glanced over her shoulders with a mischievous expression. Her dirty beauty had my inbox blowing up with claims that I'd found a way to go back in time and retrieve a prime version of retired porn starlet Sinnamon Love. I wondered if maybe they weren't related ancestorial in some respect, like a shared common great grandparent or something.

"YOU WALKING BITCH?!! YOU WALKING BUT YOU AIN'T TALKING WITH YO' BUM ASS!! HEY GIRL?!! MS. LADY?!!" The fictional thug sounded agitated and increasingly dangerous now closing the distance faster.

"Bands make me dance, bitch nigga." Sapphire replied whimsically looking directly into the camera flashing a middle finger.