LUST OF THE FLESH

By Sisan McNeil

(A Novella)

This book is dedicated to NIGEL, KENNY & OSCAR You'll never know how much I love you.

CHAPTER ONE

(New York – 1922)

DECEMBER

He glanced down at the address scribbled on the piece of paper he held, looking deeply unsure as he gazed up at the dark foreboding alley that stood before him. He looked around very apprehensive, there was no one in sight. He was in a rundown part of town; everything around him was rank and decrepit. Smelly trashcans stood on either side of him. Covering his nose with the collar of his thick coat, he proceeded down the alley way with caution. The snow on the ground was black with dirt.

He turned a corner and a large dingy building came into view. It looked dilapidated and completely abandoned. He looked around once more, doubting that this could be right place. But the address said it was the right place so he gingerly walked to the front door and knocked four times: wrap, wrap-wrap-wrap, wrap-wrap-wrap-wrap, wrap-wrap, as the paper indicated.

He felt a wave of nausea as he waited, fidgeting anxiously. The peep hole slid open, an eye regarded him.

"Are you a police officer or in any way associated with the law or law enforcement?"

"No."

"Legally, you have to tell me."

"I know. I'm not."

"Code?"

"Death to all fascist souls."

"The rule?"

"Never speak of this place. If caught, serve your time in peace."

The peep door shut with finality. His fidgeting increased. Nothing happened for a while, and then the door opened slightly. Through the crack, the end of a rifle protruded, pointing at him. He gasped and raised both hands in the air; the paper in his hand fell to the ground.

"Who told you about this place?"

"My friend, Steve. He said it'd be all right," he said, his voice shaky.

"Who else have you told about this place?!"

"Nobody, I swear! Please don't shoot me, please!" He whimpered.

"Aw, don't piss your pants, kid." The rifle lowered and the door opened wider to reveal a middle aged man, gruff in appearance.

"I'm not a kid," he said, embarrassed.

"Credentials?" He fished out his employee identification card from his pocket and handed it to the man. "Jim Calloway," the man muttered to himself, "Jamestown Press!" He exclaimed. "You better not be writing a story for the papers…"

"I'm not."

"Good," he continued to scan Jim's ID. "Twenty two," the man scoffed. "Ha! You are a kid." He stepped aside for Jim to enter.

Jim stopped short. The inside was far from what he had been expecting. It was brightly lit and full of people, mostly men, older than him. There was a large stage with a long pole, at the center of it that went all the way up into the ceiling. Jim barely noticed the door lock behind him, wrapped in all that he was seeing.

"Close your mouth, son. I'll pour you a drink."

Only then did he notice the large bar. His mouth watered at the prospect of alcohol. Since the prohibition, he thought he would never again experience the sweet burn of pure, hard liquor going down his throat. He took off his hat and coat and followed the man to the bar.

"First one's on the house." The man handed him a glass of… he did not even care as he gulped it down in one mouthful. His head fell back involuntarily and a wide grin spread over his face as he felt the burn. The gruff man laughed. "You're gonna love it here."

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the stage lights flared to life forcing everyone's attention to the stage. An ominous voice expounded unseen, like the perfect host about to reveal the most exciting thing you've ever seen.

"Presenting, the crème of the crop, the belle of the ball, the woman you've all been waiting for, Give it up for our headliner… CANDY!"

A ceiling tile shifted and Candy slid sexily down the pole to the rhythm of sensual music. Candy was by far the hottest woman Jim had ever seen. Her lustrous mane of curly black hair crowned her head like a goddess, it bounced with every movement, toppling down her back to her behind. Her tight black body suit left little to the imagination. It hugged every part of her voluptuous breasts, making her hard nipples very evident. The outfit enhanced the shape of her nether regions and her rounded butt cheeks.

The men in the audience went crazy with excitement and the few women present clung tighter to their men whose desperate eyes were glued on Candy as she seductively swung her hips, displaying just how flexible she was. Jim had never seen anything like it; his mouth dangled open once more.

Her back to the audience, Candy slowly bent over and peeled the slick strip of black cloth off her legs to her mid-thighs, unveiling long, cleanly shaven and toned legs that seemed to go on for miles. It was then that Jim realized that her entire outfit was made up of strips of leather, easy to peel off. He felt himself physically get excited.

Candy danced with the pole as though it were alive and human, thrusting her hips into it seductively and touching herself suggestively as she danced. Sliding her hands over her butt cheeks, she peeled off two more strips to reveal assless chaps.

The crowd took in an orgasmic breath and quieted down, completely drawn in. Jim noticed some of the men casually touch their fronts.

Candy ripped a strip off her entire back leaving it bare. "She's not wearing a bra!" Jim couldn't help thinking excitedly as Candy peeled another strip over her belly, to reveal flat, toned abs. "Oh boy! Oh boy!"

Candy's movements became even more erotic as the music swelled. She climbed up the pole, skillfully wrapping her strong legs around it, she let go of her hands and hung upside down, dancing coquettishly as she slid, lower and lower, to the floor. When her head was just inches above the floor, Candy used both her hands to peel the strips off her cleavage, revealing everything but the nipple.

The men practically lost it. But for the security guards, two boulders of men standing at each end of the stage, they would have rushed up the stage to Candy.

Candy placed her palms flat on the floor and released her legs. Upside down, she walked on her hands to the edge of the stage, spreading her legs wide into a complete split. She then lowered her spread legs to the floor until she was seated in a low split. She leaned forward to the crowd, alluring and hot. A coy smile played on her blood red lips as her sultry eyes scanned the crowd.

The men desperately vied her attention, enthusiastically waving dollar bills in her direction. Some even waved hundred dollar bills, calling out, "Candy! Candy!" But her eyes continued to scan the crowd, until they landed on Jim, at the very back of the crowd, near the bar.

Jim abruptly shut his mouth, completely shocked that Candy would take an interest in him of all people. He wasn't rich or even well dressed, and he did not consider himself handsome or attractive in any way, yet Candy lavished him with all of her attention. She beckoned him with a sexy finger, long red nails he couldn't help noticing.

The forces of gravity could not have stopped Jim even if they wanted to. Her piercing gaze pulled him to her like magnetic energy. He could not stop his legs from walking towards her, the crowd parting before him, until he stood right in front of her, at the bottom of the stage.

Candy smiled with her eyes. Still in that position with her legs spread wide, she put her hands on him. Jim suddenly felt very self-conscious about his body, and wondered if it was to her liking. He had never noticed such things about himself before. Candy didn't seem to mind though, as she ran her hands down his torso to his crotch area. She squeezed lightly. Jim swallowed hard.

Candy straightened and pulled Jim up the stage. A man from backstage brought a chair to the stage. Candy pushed Jim down on the chair and began a seductive dance.

Jim was completely lost in her anima; she was even more beautiful up close, despite the heavy makeup over her eyes and her lustrous mane of black hair that fanned out all over her. She smelled incredible too, and was beyond hot and sexy; Jim was frozen in place. He made no attempt to touch her and she seemed to like that.

She climbed onto his lap, facing him, holding his gaze as she moved on top of him. Jim blushed as he felt himself get hard. He looked at her apologetically but that just made her smile. Her face was warm as she regarded him and her expression soft. Jim liked her immediately and felt a strong desire to get to know her, personally. She seemed to like him too, though he was unsure as to what capacity.

Candy leaned forward and kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear, "I hope I see you again soon, stranger." Even her voice was sultry. She slid off him and cat-walked to the exit of the stage, wearing almost nothing at this point but a garter belt holding up what was left of her panty, and two strips of cloth covering the lower half of her breasts and nipples.

Jim, along with everyone in the room, watched her. Candy spun around once more, blew a sultry kiss at the audience with both hands. It was obvious, she owned them. They were her play things now. Candy disappeared behind the curtain to a standing ovation. Only then did Jim notice that the floor of the stage was covered with money, like confetti.

"Give it up for Curvaceous Candy!" The applause went on for several minutes afterwards.

Backstage, Leslie took off the wig and persona of Candy and leaned against the wall, panting. All the confidence and sexy exuberance, the mask that was Candy, was off as well. Leslie closed her eyes and exhaled. For a brief moment her true self was revealed; young, lost and utterly alone.

Joseph, the club's janitor, sauntered up to her. "You did good tonight as usual, Miss Leslie."

Her eyes met his. "I need you."

Leslie's bedroom was furnished with a large glamorous bed, covered with silk sheets and pillows. A huge closet occupied the opposite wall from the bed, stuffed with countless clothes, shoes and accessories, most of which belonged to Candy. A large full length mirror stood beside the closet. And, beside the mirror was a wash sink.

Leslie was pinned against the wall and Joseph was behind her, pounding her ass. Her assless chaps had been moved to one side so he could enter her. He moaned loudly. Leslie stifled her moans.

"Shh," she said to Joseph.

"Sorry, Miss Leslie," he whispered. "I know," he said in a sing-song voice, "nobody can find out," he said before she could. He tried to stifle his grunts as well. "You think I can enter you the proper way tonight, Miss Leslie?" he asked shyly after a while.

"No, anal is fine," she said flatly.

"Can we lie down at least?" he asked after another while. "I want to hold you tonight, Miss Leslie."

"You're holding me right now."

Joseph's pace increased and Leslie clamped both hands over her mouth to stifle her moans.

"Can I at least touch you?"

"You know the rules, Joseph," she snapped. "Ugh, you're ruining this for me!" She pushed him away from her.

"I'm sorry, Miss Leslie," he said huskily, putting his dick away, still erect. "I have never questioned your rules before; it's just that, it's getting hard you know." He met her eyes. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world, and I watch you on that stage, week after week, and I feel so lucky that I'm the one that gets to… Well, not really, since we've never actually…"

"You've cum in my ass more times than I can count."

"I know, and I appreciate it, Miss Leslie but…"

"I don't want to get pregnant, I've told you before."

"Yes, but I won't cum if we…"

"My rules, Joseph! If they're no longer good enough for you then we can stop." Joseph looked hurt. Leslie exhaled, frustrated. "Please leave."

Joseph walked to the door and stopped. He spoke gently, stuttering a little. "I have never seen you fully naked, Miss Leslie. I do not know what your body feels like because you won't let me touch you. You never let me enter your lady parts..." he took a breath. "We've been going at this for over a year and still…" he turned his head slightly to look at her.

Leslie's eyes were hard. "What?"

Joseph turned around fully to face her. "I want to make love to you the proper way, Miss Leslie. I dream about it every day. I want to touch and kiss every part of you. I want to…"

"Oh, but Joseph, that is never going to happen," there was amusement on Leslie's face. "You think we're in a relationship?"

Joseph cowered involuntarily. "I know we're not in a relationship…"

"You think this is love, between us?" Joseph looked confused. "Oh you poor simpleton."

"You promised never to call me that, Miss Leslie," he stuttered.

"Joseph, get it into your head," she spoke slowly, "you're nothing but a hard dick to me."

Tears filled Joseph's eyes. "Is that right, Miss Leslie?" Leslie's face remained hard and unreadable. "Okay then," Joseph struggled to push back his tears. "Don't come calling for me anymore then." He left without another word.

Once alone, her armor came off and Leslie crumpled to the bed in utter defeat and cried her heart out.

* * *

Jim drained another pint of beer, his third that night. "Bartender," he called sluggishly.

The bartender, a handsome young man, not much older than Jim, regarded him. "No, I'm cutting you off. We can't keep this place a secret if drunks like you lead the police back to us."

"Fine," Jim spat in annoyance.

Candy. He looked back to where she had exited from, desperately wishing she'd come back out. He knew he would never be able to forget her. Those dark brown eyes, her beautiful face… Jim was drifting off to sleep.

"Hey!" The bartender snapped. He waved one of the security guards over. It was the same man who had opened the door for Jim.

"Is she coming back out?" Jim asked groggily.

"Not tonight, son. But she'll be back tomorrow night, and I have a sneaky suspicion I will see you then."

Jim grinned, 'you betcha.'

CHAPTER TWO

She heard the bang in the room next to hers and Sybil's high pitched laughter. Leslie opened her eyes, realizing she must have dosed off after Joseph left her room. She also could hear the man Sybil had with her, laughing gruffly along with her as they began their lovers play.

Leslie sat up and touched the wall beside her bed. She fiddled with it and pulled away a tiny piece of it to reveal a perfectly rounded peep hole. Through the peep hole, Leslie watched Sybil and the man laugh and caress each other. The man laid a trail of wet kisses all over Sybil's neck. Leslie watched her shiver from the kisses.

Sybil was beautiful, curly blonde hair and clear blue eyes. Her small frame was soft, plump and lush. The man pulled down one of the sleeves of Sybil's yellow dress, exposing a large breast. He attached his mouth to her nipple and began sucking almost hungrily. Sybil wrapped her arms around the man as he fumbled with her other breast.

Leslie squeezed her legs tightly together as she watched the man slowly pull down Sybil's dress; she was completely naked underneath. Sybil plopped down on the bed and spread her legs as the man dropped to his knees and went down on her.

Leslie fumbled with her outfit and reached under her breast to play with a nipple below.

Sybil moaned, reveling in the pleasure that the man was giving to her. The man yanked down his pants and Sybil gave a pleasure cry as he slid into her. The man moved on top of her, slowly at first but rapidly increasing his pace. Sybil's pleasure cries increased with his pace, unabashed.

Leslie couldn't take it anymore. She reached into her panty and pulled away the tape that firmly pinned down her manhood, freeing her dick, already hard with an erection. She ran a hand knowingly over the shaft, closing her eyes.

Leslie pleasured herself to the sounds of Sybil's moans, rubbing harder on her dick as Sybil's cries increased. Leslie climaxed with Sybil and the strange man, cumming all over her hand.

She heard Sybil and the man exchange sweet pleasantries as they kissed and caressed each other softly. Leslie was all alone. She was always alone because who would ever accept her the way that she was? Leslie put a hand over her mouth and wept bitterly.

* * *

Ten year old Lester parades in his parents' bedroom, in his mother's favorite covered shoes. One of her pretty pink scarves adorns his neck. He puts on her church hat, the one with red roses on it. Lester gazes at himself in the mirror, he is beautiful. He reaches into his mother's dresser and runs his fingers over her many lipsticks. He selects a luscious red one, almost the color of blood. Lester leans closer to the mirror and applies it. He's taken aback by his appearance. He's stunning.

"Lester!"

He jumps back from the mirror and spins around to see his father's large frame in the door way. He hadn't heard him coming in. His father's face is a dark mask of fury. Lester hurriedly wipes off the lipstick and takes off the accessories.

"It's all a joke, father," he speaks rapidly. "I'm rehearsing for a role I'm auditioning for, for the school play. You know, I want to be an actor."

His father is already taking off his belt.

"I was just playing, father; imitating mom. It's nothing serious."

His father's voice is dark. "No son of mine shall be a transvestite, even in a play." He raises the belt high over his head and brings it down, again and again and again. All Lester can do is protect his face.

* * *

Leslie opened her eyes to the morning light. She was still mostly naked from the night before and gasped at her carelessness. She quickly wrapped a sheet around herself and hurried to her bedroom door to lock it. Leslie leaned against the door, chastising herself for not getting up earlier to shower in the communal female bathroom. A whore's bath will have to do for today.

Leslie opened the hot water tap and let it run. She took off her padded strapless bra, filled with stuffing. Leslie then pulled off the soft breastplate with artificial breasts and nipples on it, away from her chest. Leslie had fashioned the contraption from clay. She had then melted rubber over it to give it a more natural feel when caressed over clothes. Then she had painted it the same color as her skin.

Leslie ran a hand over the breasts. They were the most real thing to her in the world. She held them to her chest as she stood before the full mirror, longing in her eyes. Leslie set them aside gently then slowly pulled down her panty, still attached to the gather belt. Her naked body is completely male.

Welts, marks, and bruises covered up a lot of her skin but Leslie's eyes remained on her 'situation,' as she often referred to it in her head. She often forgot it was there except on nights like the one before, and on mornings like this, when she is forced to confront her reality, a reality that filled her with disgust and hatred for herself. She conjured up images of Sybil's body from the night before and couldn't stop the tears from filling her eyes at the sight of her own body.

"I hate you." Leslie said to her reflection in the mirror. "I hate you!" She hit herself in the groin area and doubled over, groaning deeply in pain, adding one more bruise to her body.

Tears poured down Leslie's eyes as she set her shaving razor on the sink. She dipped a small towel into the hot water and ran it over her body. She turned the mirror away from her as she cried profusely.

Leslie, fully dressed, with her hair and makeup fabulously done, breezed down into the staff lounge. "Good morning," she greeted cheerily.

"It's about time!" Billie cried, already smoking a long cigarette even though it was only 8am in the morning. "I'm starving."

"You should have started without me."

"Indeed!" Billie scoffed. Albert, the club owner and manager would never allow it. He ran his staff like a family. Leslie loved that most.

"Sit down," Albert said gently. Leslie took her seat beside Sybil, as usual, at the dining table as Albert walked around to each person, scooping scrambled eggs onto their plates. As they ate, Leslie gazed at her family. It still felt surreal to her even though she had lived with them for almost two years.

Sybil a.k.a 'Sweetie Pie' was one of the dancers at the club. She was Leslie's closest friend and confidant, though to some extent. Sybil didn't know about Leslie's 'situation,' no one did. Leslie knew she would not be accepted if anyone found out and she loved her family too much to risk losing it.

Leslie's eyes met Billie's sharp blue ones, from where she sat opposite her; Billie flipped her dark pixie cut with a flare of entitled arrogance, and rolled her eyes away. Leslie just shook her head. She would never understand Billie's incessant need to hate and antagonize her. Billie a.k.a 'Cutie,' was the third and final dancer at the club, and the resident house bitch. And she wore that title proudly. Leslie knew Billie was just mad that she had over thrown her as the best dancer when she moved in two years ago.

Stan and Rusty were the stage security guards. Cal manned the door. Tanner was the gorgeous bartender. He winked at Billie who was seated beside him; Billie ignored him, making Tanner laugh to himself. Billie loved pretending like they weren't an item. Leslie didn't know whether she was deluding herself or if she really didn't realize that they all knew. That made Leslie panic momentarily about Joseph, did the others know as well?

She risked glancing at Joseph, the lowly cleaner. Joseph was actively trying not to meet her eyes. She felt bad about what she had said to him the night before, but she couldn't see another way to resolve the situation.

Miss Gladys, an older lady, cooked their meals and helped the girls create their costumes and their 'look,' though Leslie had insisted on designing Candy's outfit herself. Then there was Albert. He was the proud owner and manager of the club; "For Saints and Sinners," that's what the club was called, even though there was no sign on the building. Albert was the resident father figure for everyone, and he ran things very well. Leslie could not imagine the club or any of them surviving a day without him. He was the only positive father figure she had ever known. Albert had let her join his family even though Leslie could barely dance. Here she had learned to become who she currently was, her true self.

CHAPTER THREE

Leslie was seated at her dressing table, painting Candy to life. There was a knock at her door.

"Come in," Leslie said, applying a glittery purple eye liner to her eyes. Joseph entered, holding a large bouquet of red roses. His face reflected how he felt on the inside; dead.

"For you. From some man." He laid the bouquet on the table, not meeting her eyes.

"Joseph…" He walked out the door without a backward glance. Leslie was surprised; she had never received flowers before. She had received several donations of money along with lewd propositions attached to it, but never roses. She read the hand written card that came with it.

Even if I travelled to the ends of the earth

And got lost at sea for most of my years

I could never forget the magnificence of your exuberance

And would strive to return to the light of your jubilance,

Even if to catch the dying glimpse of your opulent eyes

Aye, knowing you would be the greatest honor.

The card wasn't signed. Leslie tossed the card and roses into her waste basket and returned to doing her makeup.

* * *

At breakfast the next day they discussed their acts. Albert gave them pointers on attracting more crowds and making more money.

"Anyone but me finds it strange that in two years none of us has ever seen Leslie naked?"

Leslie's heart skipped a beat at Billie's statement but she forced herself to remain calm as she lifted a spoon of porridge into her mouth.

"I think Leslie's act is classy," Sybil said to her defense, in her high pitched baby voice. Billie scoffed.

"You want to see me naked, Billie?" Leslie asked pointedly. "All you have to do is ask," she gave a bright smile making Billie's scowl deepen.

"It wouldn't hurt to show a little more skin, Leslie," Albert said.

"My act, my decisions," Leslie said without looking at him. "You promised me that."

"I know, I know. It just still baffles me that you turn down hundred dollar bills for comely guys…"

"Just because they wouldn't fuck her," Billie interjected. "That's Leslie's type, men with no balls." She took a long draw from her cigarette and turned to Tanner. "I'll bet you a thousand dollars Leslie is still a virgin."

Tanner grinned. "You're on." He turned to Leslie. "Are you still a virgin?"

Leslie wanted to say yes just to watch Billie lose a thousand dollars, but she knew it was best not to let them bait her.

"That's for me to know and for you to keep wondering," she said instead, making Tanner laugh and Billie scoff.

"I'm just saying, change your act a bit," Albert insisted.

"I changed it not too long ago…"

"I know, but you know what I mean." She knew. He meant more skin, revealing more of her female parts. She would have to find a way to work around her 'situation.' Leslie sighed inwardly.

"I'm thinking of increasing the amount of shows we have per week," Albert said, "instead of just being open Wednesdays to Saturdays nights, we'll be open Mondays to Saturdays." As soon as he said that a cacophony of voices rose as everyone had something to say about that.

"… Six nights of dancing! When will we have time to recover?" Sybil whined.

"…Are you sure that's a good idea? Doesn't it increase our chances of getting caught?" Billie said.

"…Will we be able to get enough booze that fast?" Tanner said.

"…It's certainly a security risk, keeping up with the amount of foot traffic that will go through this place…" Stan piped in.

"…Which could ultimately lead the police directly to us," Cal chipped in.

"Enough!" Albert yelled loud enough to make them jump. He rose to his feet in anger. "I wasn't asking for any of your opinions on the matter, all I know is, if I continue to run things the way they are, I will go bankrupt!" The others suddenly looked afraid. "I've already taken a second mortgage on my house…"

Miss Gladys gasped, "Does Janet know?"

"I haven't had the heart to tell her." He ran a hand through his scanty hair. "This place isn't making the revenue I had hoped. We have our regulars, yes, but that is still not enough. We can't exactly advertize and we have to be extremely careful whom we let know about this place and that weeds out potential customers." He glared at them. "Not to mention, you all live here rent free, using the utilities that I pay for, gorging yourselves on food…" he indicated to the array of breakfast before them, "that I buy, all in the building that I spent my life savings to purchase!"

Albert was breathing hard. They all felt bad but couldn't muster more to say than "I'm sorry, Albert."

Albert took a breath. "I've already put the livelihood of my family in jeopardy, risking my children's future in the process. If I continue to run at a loss, I will lose everything and will have to shut down this place. And where will that leave all of you, huh? Where?" The others were practically cowering with their heads down. "That's right, back to the slums and the dumps where I found you in the first place."

Albert sat back down and was quiet a moment to let all he had said sink in. He watched each one of them process the information, remembering just where they were in life before Albert had found them and given them a new life and livelihood. Albert had given them hope, love, and a family.

Leslie shuddered at the thought of returning to her father, of being anything other than the exotic dancer she was. Death would be kinder a fate to her than facing that kind of humiliation and repression.

Albert leaned forward in his seat, holding each and every one of their gazes. "We need to start making more money, now." The others nodded eagerly; their faces told him they'd do anything. "Good. From Monday, we're open six nights a week. We are also now on a very tight budget; our only objective being, make more money. Cal, see if you can find cheaper stuff on the black market. Tanner, less booze in a pint for more pay."

Tanner looked deeply unsure but nodded.

"Stan, Rusty, gather your boys and spread our message farther, and get more men in here!" They nodded. "I'm considering charging an entrance fee," Albert said to Cal, who grimaced but said nothing. "We'll see," Albert said.

"Gladys, go much tighter on the food budget, and on the girls clothes… in fact, nothing at all on their clothes, they're just gonna take most of it off anyway." The girls looked uncomfortable, not used to this side of Albert.

Miss Gladys sensed that. "I'll see what I can do," she said to Albert.

"Girls," he addressed them fully. "You are the main reasons men pour in here, make them pine for even more, make them never want to leave. Take all you can from them, and make them want to give you even more. No more turning down large bills," his eyes were on Leslie for this one, "and do whatever you must to suck out all the green you can get from them. Am I clear?" The girls nodded slightly. "Good. All your acts still need work. Make them better!"

Albert rose, already feeling in a much better mood now that he could see the wheels turning in all their heads. "Get to work everybody!" They all hurried to their feet to exhibit all he had said.

* * *

The girls were out in the town for their usual Sunday walk, enjoying their only day of freedom before they plunged into the busy week ahead of them. They went shopping, got their hair and nails done, and just enjoyed the day being girls.

They had their arms linked in each other's as they walked; Sybil was in the middle. Rusty was out with them as well, for their safety. He was a few feet away from them, looking very disinterested. They preferred it when Rusty went out with them as opposed to Stan because Stan took the body guard thing a little bit too seriously; he wouldn't let men come within spitting distance of them, even though the whole point of a girls day out was to have a little fun.

"Candy?" All three girls turned abruptly. It was the first time, ever, any of them had been recognized outside of work because their costumes usually did a great job of keeping their identities a secret.

"Shh," Billie chided harshly. "You want to bring the cops down on us?!" The girls involuntarily pulled their hats lower to cover more of their faces.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know your real name," Jim said apologetically.

"And you ain't gonna," Sybil said with a little bit of an attitude. "We keep that information to ourselves, thank you very much."

"I'm very sorry, ladies, I didn't mean to offend anybody." His eyes were on Leslie, the tallest of the three. Leslie was truly surprised he recognized her without all of Candy's regalia. She regarded him as well, already regretting calling him up to the stage.

"It was you who sent me the flowers?"

Jim blushed making Billie laugh. "Barking at the wrong girl, Mister, you ain't getting sex from this one."

"It's not what I'm after," Jim said, shocked at her insinuation.

"Are you following me?" Leslie asked.

"No… err… no…"

"What? You want to make an honest woman out of me?" Leslie said with a mocking edge to her voice. "You some Christian trying to save my soul?"

"No, ma'am. I was just hoping to… to get to know you."

Rusty approached. "This boy bothering you?"

"No, we're just leaving," Leslie gave him one last stern glance then led the girls away.

"I'm Jim," he called after her but they kept on walking.

CHAPTER FOUR

Leslie watched Billie dance on the stage, from backstage. Billie was stunning; Leslie couldn't help thinking so despite herself. Even though she hated Billie most of the time because Billie was such a bitch and was constantly god-awful to her, Leslie found that she could not hate Billie while she danced. Billie was fierce and fiery on the stage, and knew how to capture an audience, and keep their attention on her, both males and females. She always had the ability to stir a crowd into frenzy; to make everyone in the room want to fuck her.

Billie ended her dance and brushed past Leslie backstage, ensuring to bump her in the shoulder.

"Good luck," her voice dripped with sarcasm. Billie was practically naked; two tiny gold stars covered her nipples and a larger one, her vagina. "No one is going to want your virgin act tonight after this," her sardonic eyes ran over Leslie's black body suit.

"Mind your own damn business," Leslie snapped, infuriated.

"Either show pussy tonight or don't bother climbing that stage," Billie laughed and walked away, her ample ass cheeks bouncing with her walk. Leslie stared after her, jealous and enraged. She took in a deep breath and Candy walked onto the stage when her name was announced.

She tried to ignore all that Billie had said as she danced, but Billie had been right about the crowd wanting real skin tonight. She couldn't help noticing just how much harder Stan and Rusty had to work tonight, to keep the men off the stage. Even Albert had to step in and throw three men out of the club.

Suddenly, a hand closed around her ankle and Candy was swept off her feet. She felt rough hands reach out to her and she screamed; thrashing and kicking everyone in her reach. Stan and Rusty tried to get to her but too many men were in their way.

Leslie saw all the faces surrounding her and was instantly thrown back to the eighth grade.

Lester left P.E class early to the locker room, as he did every single day. So he could quickly change before the other boys came in. But he wasn't so lucky today. The boys burst into the locker room and stopped short; Lester was naked except for the bright pink skimpy panty he had fashioned for himself.

The boys stared for a while as Lester scrambled to cover himself. But his hands were trembling so much, he couldn't get dressed fast enough.

"Fag!" someone shouted and then they all rushed him. They surrounded him pushing him between themselves, teasing and laughing at him. Lester screamed and tried to break free but too many hands were on him rough handling him. He was so terrified…

Leslie screamed, still thrashing. Suddenly, she felt two strong hands pull her up. Soft brown eyes shielded her as the man pushed and punched everyone who tried to touch her. He led her out through a side door, into the cold night.

Leslie was very shaken, overwhelmed with Lester's thoughts.

"Are you all right?" He had to ask three times before she snapped back to reality. At once she was furious with him and threw his hand off of her.

"Don't touch me!" she growled.

He raised both hands in the air, as though surrendering to her will. "I'm sorry, I…" Leslie was already walking away from him. He ran after her. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Leave me alone!"

"It's not safe. There are many rough men around these parts."

She spun around and growled at him. "Rough men I can handle. What I can't stand are 'gallant' men who think they now deserve my pussy."

He looked hurt. "I'm not… I wasn't after that. I just wanted to see if you were…"

Leslie was walking away from him once more. "I'm fine! I don't need you. Don't follow me!"

Lester came home, bleeding from the many cuts and bruises inflicted on him. His father was reading the paper when he entered the living room.

"Dad," Lester called, absolutely devastated, tears streaming down his face.

His father glanced up at him once, then returned his attention to the paper in his hands. The school had called to inform him about what had happened.

"Your classmates found out you're a faggot?" He made a disgusted sound. "Serves you right, maybe this time you'll learn to be a man."

Leslie stumbled through the thick snow, blind with the tears pouring from her eyes; she had no idea where she was going. Even though she was freezing, she had no intension of going back, yet.

She heard a twig snap. "I told you not to follow me!"

"I'm sorry but I can't risk anything bad happening to you." Leslie spun around to challenge him, but all Jim saw was absolute devastation on her face. His voice became even softer. "Even if you want to hurt yourself, I can't risk letting you do that."

"You don't know me! You have no idea what I am."

"Then let me get to know you."

"You don't know what you're talking about! Just leave me alone!" Dark memories from her past haunted her, and her present predicament of being utterly alone in the world crippled her, making thoughts of the future, being forever trapped in this body and life that she hated so much, made her want to die. She needed to be free. She needed it more than she needed the very air in her lungs.

Jim took a step closer to her. "Allow me to help, please."

Leslie was going to say more but realized Jim's face was no longer in focus. Overwhelmed, she passed out. Jim caught her before her head hit the ground.

* * *

Leslie opened her eyes the next morning and immediately flinched at her surroundings. Jim was sleeping on the floor beside the bed. He woke up the moment she did.

"Where the hell am I?" Leslie looked around in fear and confusion.

Jim sat up. "It's all right; we're in a motel…"

"What?!"

"You passed out last night. My first instinct was to take you back to the club…"

"You should have!"

"But after seeing what happened there last night, I knew you needed a break."

"I didn't ask for…"

"I know, but I did it anyway."

"There you go, being all gallant again," sarcasm filled her voice.

"A 'thank you' never hurt," he muttered.

"Thank you?! What did you do to me last night?" She glanced at her body. Her clothes were still intact, even her high heels hadn't been taken off her feet. The only change to her person was that a blanket had been thrown over her.

"I didn't touch you last night. I'm a gentleman; I would never do that to a lady." He looked appalled by the thought.

Leslie could see he was telling the truth. Her tone softened. "Thank you… but I need to leave," she made an attempt to get up.

"Or, you could stay and rest," he suggested. "You were crying in your sleep last night," he whispered solemnly. "It was miserable not being able to comfort you."

Tears glinted in Leslie's eyes but she hardened up. "Well I don't need a savior."

"I'm no one's savior! I'm just a nice guy trying to help."

"Well if you're such a nice guy, how come you go to a place like 'For Saints and Sinners?'" Leslie heard the irony in the name.

Jim made a face. "So by your logic, good people can't be found at that club?"

Leslie shrugged. She hadn't seen any since she started working there. All she saw were horny men, regarding her body with lust, desperately trying all they could to fuck her.

"By that logic it means you aren't a good person yourself," he said with a playful sardonic edge to his voice.

"That would be accurate," she said matter-of-factly.

He was shocked at her raw honesty. "Don't say that."

"Because it's true? You can't handle a girl telling the truth?"

"It's not that," he shifted closer to her involuntarily. "I'm not going to pretend that I know a thing about you, but you are not a bad person."

Leslie pushed back the lump in her throat. Her mouth was still set. "How do you figure that?"

"I see it in your eyes."

"He's a soul reader now, ladies and gentlemen."

"Your sarcasm, your angst; it's just a shell you use to hide your true feelings."

Leslie's face became a mask of anger. She opened her mouth to spew acid on him but he spoke first.

"My mother was like that. She was an exotic dancer too," his eyes met hers. Leslie closed her mouth. Jim was quiet for a while; thoughtful. "Why I'm back in a place like 'For Saints and Sinners,' I don't know. It's partly the alcohol, of course, prohibition is god-awful. But maybe it's because I grew up in a place like that. My mother lived in a club too, I never knew my father. She had many lovers…" Jim grimaced, hating to be speaking like this. Hating not knowing what Leslie was thinking, he didn't want to mess this up, but he felt like everything he said only made matters worse.

"I'm sorry," Jim said. "When I saw them grab at you like that, instinct kicked in, dark memories. I was too young to save my mom… And I swear to God, I'm not projecting on you, I…" he sighed and was quiet for another time. Leslie didn't know what to say. She watched him wrestling with his emotions.

Jim let his shoulders fall, as though in defeat. "No matter what conclusion you arrive at about me, I'm glad I was in the club last night."

She said nothing for a while. "Yeah, me too," she meant it. "So, if I do spend the day here…" Jim brightened. "And I'm not saying that I would, what did you have in mind?"

Jim's smile remained. "Well, first, we'll grab breakfast."

"Oh that sounds amazing," Leslie felt her stomach rumble. "But," she glanced at her outfit; her body-fitting leather suit, with some of the strips missing from it. "I can't go out like this. I'll be arrested on the spot"

He stood up. "I'll see if Marge can help."

"Who's Marge?"

"The owner of this place."

"Great, there's nothing like an early morning dish of condemnation."

"Please, she owns this dump, I'm pretty sure she's seen worse," he said playfully making her smile.

All Marge had for Leslie was a loose fitting blouse and a long skirt. 'Great.' The only blessing was that the motel had a private bathroom she could use. Leslie was apprehensive about washing off all her makeup; she had never shown her true face to anyone before, not even the people she lived with at the club. Even on their casual Sunday walks, she wore some makeup. Leslie was always terrified that if she didn't, people would know. But her makeup was all smudged up from all the crying, she had no choice but to wash it off. She considered using some of Marge's heavy, old lady make up but decided a fresh face beats that of a clown any day.

The wig didn't make sense without the makeup so Leslie took off the mane of thick black hair, releasing her long auburn hair which toppled to her shoulders and fanned out. She ran her fingers through it to comb out the knots.

Leslie decided she'd rather die than stick her feet in any of Marge's old maid shoes so her heels remained. She already felt so ugly in the long, plain and shapeless number she was wearing. She gathered Candy's regalia into a small tote bag.

Jim was seated at the edge of the bed, clean and fresh, he had taken a shower as well. When Leslie came in, he gasped. Leslie flushed in embarrassment.

"I'm hideous. He probably knows. He can see through me. He probably can see that I'm…"

"You're stunning," Jim said just above a whisper.

"What?" Leslie looked at him in shock. She regarded her outfit but could not see what Jim saw. She could not see how fresh faced and young she looked; she could not see her natural beauty. She could not see how her auburn hair framed her face perfectly, accentuating her beauty.

Jim felt his throat close up. He had to fight everything in him that wanted to walk up to her and plant his lips on hers.

"What's your name?" he forced himself to ask instead.

Leslie held his gaze, his eyes were so beautiful. "Leslie," she said.

"Leslie," he smiled. Even her name fit perfectly.

Leslie couldn't remember a time she had more fun, not even on her weekly outings with Sybil and Billie. And most of what they did was walk, talk and laugh. Jim was such a natural conversationalist and he was incredibly funny too.

"What do you do when you're not boozing and watching strippers dance?" Leslie asked.

Jim laughed. He could see that being direct was just in her nature. And strangely enough, it was already growing on him.

"I work at a printing press."

"Really?" Leslie was intrigued.

"Yes," he smiled slightly, looking ahead. "It's my passion. I love documenting things… and just seeing the lives of others, on paper."

She was fascinated by him, completely enthralled when he spoke. The way she was looking at him made him blush further.

"So, you're not married and you don't have a girlfriend, what's wrong with you?" she asked.

Jim laughed. "I just haven't found the right girl," he was looking at her. Leslie felt a lump in her throat but laughed it off.

"I'm a stripper."

"Don't sell yourself short; there's more to you than that."

"Don't be so sure."

"Oh come on," he pushed her playfully. She was almost his height with her heels on. "So, what do you do when you are not dancing and titillating men with your sexy ass?" Leslie's eyes widened in surprise and amusement, Jim blushed, "Just taking a chapter out of your vocabulary," he blushed again making Leslie laugh out loud. "Who is Leslie, when she's not Candy is all I'm asking?"

She knew the answer— desperately trying not to be Lester. Trying not to let him over power her and take over.

Leslie shook involuntarily and Jim moved closer to her. "I don't know," she said solemnly and turned away before he could see the tears in her eyes.

Leslie began to walk faster and Jim had to jog to keep up. "Hey, slow down."

"I should head back."

Jim's face fell. "I'm so sorry, about my question…"

"No, no. It's evening," Jim looked around. It was evening, he hadn't even noticed the day passing. "I really should be heading back, they'll be worried sick."

Jim nodded, understanding. "I'll walk you back."

Jim took her hand on the walk back. Leslie's eyes met his. "Am I being too forward?" Leslie shook her head. He wasn't.

"I can't go into detail about it," Leslie begun. "But it's hard to say who I am when there is this other presence residing in me, fighting for control."

He thought she was talking about Candy.

"Sometimes I fear I will completely lose myself, I fear I will lose control and absolutely give in," tears filled her eyes.

Jim squeezed her hand. "You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, just spending this day with you, I can see that. Just keep fighting. It won't happen, I assure you."

She held his gaze. "How can you be so sure?" They were almost at the club, they stopped walking.

"Because I won't let you," he whispered. There was a fierce intensity in his gaze and she wanted to trust him. She absolutely wanted to trust him, but all she felt was raw fear.

She heard her name in the distance and instinctively they ducked behind a large tree.

"I don't want this day to end," he whispered urgently. "I want you."

"You don't know what you're asking..." He silenced her with a kiss, pulling her close. It was her first real kiss, though brief, it was sweet and passionate. Leslie felt her heart beating faster in her chest as they held each other's gaze once more.

"Leslie?" she heard her name again.

"They have been looking for me; I must go, to set their minds at ease."

"Meet me back here later."

"Jim, I can't, I…" He kissed her again, longer and more passionately. She was like water in his arms.

"Okay," was all she could manage to say.

When she entered the club, they all sighed with relief. Even Billie seemed relieved, though she quickly hid this by her sarcastic remark.

"I knew she was fine all along, probably just stayed away for the attention."

Sybil held Leslie in her arms and wouldn't let go for the longest time. "I'm sorry I had you all worried," Leslie said. She quickly explained that after last night's incident, she was so torn up and in such a bad state that she had to stay away. She rented a motel room and had spent the day sleeping and resting. She did not mention Jim.

"I don't think I'll be up to dancing tonight," she told Albert.

"Of course, Leslie," he said understanding.

"Geez how much rest do you need?" Billie exclaimed. "You just said you spent the day sleeping and resting."

"Doesn't mean she's eager to return to getting clawed off the stage," Sybil said, uncharacteristically challenging Billie. She threw her arms around Leslie again. Leslie knew if she let her, Sybil would baby her to death.

"We are really sorry about last night, Leslie," Stan said apologetic.

"Yeah," Rusty agreed, "the crowd was a lot less manageable last night."

"I warned her that would happen," Billie said. "I said show more skin." Leslie narrowed her eyes at her.

"I'll hire more security," Albert said.

"Or she can just show more skin," Billie insisted.

Leslie glared at her. "Are you even concerned a little bit about me, Billie, or were you delighted when those men yanked me off the stage? Maybe you'll rather they killed me!"

"Don't say such things!" Sybil said, distraught.

"Maybe you secretly wished I wouldn't return!"

"No!" Sybil was close to tears. "Billie couldn't be that cruel. Tell her Billie, you couldn't." Billie said nothing but returned Leslie's glare.

"Billie, stop antagonizing her at a time like this," Albert said.

"Of course, take her side as usual," Billie rolled her eyes. Albert ignored her.

"Leslie, go get some rest, kiddo. Bet you'll feel much better in the morning. The rest of you, get to work, our guests will start arriving in two hours."

CHAPTER FIVE

When things settled down and Leslie knew no one would miss her, she locked her bedroom door and tied her bed sheets into knots, which she used to let herself down from her second floor window. She ensured to take her blanket with her.

Jim was waiting for her, right where she had left him, he was shivering.

"Poor baby," she threw the blanket over both of them and they descended to the ground, resting their backs against the large oak tree. They cuddled close to each other for warmth. Jim turned to her to claim her lips once more. "Jim," she said solemnly. He paused and glanced at her. "You called yourself a gentleman earlier. I need even more of that side from you tonight."

"I would never go beyond what you're comfortable with, Leslie," he said earnestly.

"I know." She was struggling with her words. "I know I'm a stripper and it's like, who am I to talk about decency…?"

"Leslie," he put a knuckle under her chin, "I respect you," his gaze bored into hers. "And I will respect every one of your boundaries."

"Thank you," she said earnestly, trying not to cry. "It's honestly the reason I don't date; I have so many 'don't touch' rules. I just…"

"Want it to be special."

"Yes," she whispered.

"I feel the same way," he smiled. Leslie felt her heart warm at this. She leaned forward and claimed his lips in a slow, yet passionate kiss.

"I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since the day I first saw you," Jim whispered against her lips. Leslie reveled in the baby brown eyes that held her gaze; she loved how they glinted in the moon light.

"Jim," she whispered, unsure of herself. Jim leaned forward and placed his mouth delicately on hers. Leslie felt the kiss in every fiber of her being. His lips were soft and gentle; she shuddered involuntarily and leaned in even closer to him, clutching on to his shirt. She ran her hands over his chest, torso and back.

"Leslie," he whispered her name, running a hand through her hair, over her face. He brought his lips to her neck and sucked on it. She gasped, feeling her body burn. No one had ever done this to her before; it made her feel alive for the first time ever. Leslie never let anyone this close to her and now she was allowing all these liberties with Jim.

She felt her dick harden and strain against the tape pinning it down. Leslie wanted to stop Jim before things got out of hand but the hand running down her back to gently cradle and squeeze her behind, felt too good, she couldn't muster the strength to stop him just yet. His other hand ran casually over her legs and thighs. Jim stopped before she could stop him from touching her groin area; Leslie appreciated that about him. She squeezed her legs tightly together nevertheless, to suppress the bulge, fearing that the tape would give way.

Jim ran a knuckle over one of her hard nipples and she restrained his hands, quickly kissing his fingers and pulling them individually into her mouth.

Leslie fantasized about going all the way with him. Sucking his dick, feeling his mouth on hers; him making love to her, the real her, unabashed. She fantasized about Jim loving her for who she was… And it hurt so much she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

"Leslie," he whispered her name once more, kissing along her neck and shoulders. She could see the bulge through his pants. Who was she kidding, they could never be.

"I'm a fool. A big stupid fool!" She should never have started this with him, never have encouraged him. There was no happy ending for them. The only thing this achieved was add to her pining, as if she couldn't already fill up the entire earth with the longing that resided in her; always on the outside looking in, never being the one who got what she desired. What was she doing, Jim would reject her the moment he found out what she was. She could risk everything, her family, her life. Everything!

"Come away with me, Leslie," he whispered against her neck, his body tight against hers. "I live alone, it's a tiny place but it will be big enough for the both of us."

Tears were filling her eyes. "I can't," she said trying to keep her voice from shaking. She had to end this. There was no use going any further. Tears spilled from her eyes. She didn't want this to end. She wanted him. She needed him to want the real her.

Jim tasted her tears and pulled back, shocked that she was crying. "Leslie?"

She abruptly pulled away from him.

"I don't want this."

"I'm sorry if we're going too fast. I didn't mean to bring up moving in…" Leslie was on her feet.

"I don't want you."

"What?" Jim blanched.

"I don't want to see you again," Leslie tried to make her voice hard and serious, but her lips couldn't stop trembling and she was crying profusely, shaking all over.

Jim slowly rose to his feet. "Leslie," he called gently. "It's okay. I'm sorry if…"

She slapped him, as hard as she could. He flinched. There was blood on his lips. He looked at her in horror, but no amount of horror matched what she felt on the inside.

"Stay away from me!" she said through her teeth and ran away from him. Jim was too stunned to even think, he just stood there in the cold.

Leslie ran faster than she had ever run before, crying into the night. She couldn't believe what she had just done, she wanted to die. She was going to kill herself. There was a cliff about a mile away; she intended not to slow down until she was free falling to her death. She had hurt Jim, oh God, she had hurt the only man she loved. Nothing could stop her now, not thoughts of Sybil crying over her mangled body, not Albert's restrained sorrow, not even fantasies of her father writing to her and telling her he had always loved her for who she was, could stop her now. Leslie was determined to die, so she kept on running.

It started snowing, increasingly hard, the higher up the mountain she ran. Though her chest burned, making it much harder to breathe, she pushed herself to keep on running. She was almost there; eternal peace was almost within her grasp.

Suddenly, Leslie bumped into a woman, who seemed to have materialized out of thin air. Most strange was, at the speed she was going, the collision should have been intense on both sides but instead the woman stood rock solid while Leslie was knocked back several feet by the impact.

It took a long moment for Leslie to recover. She slowly made it to her feet, groaning loudly, hurting all over. She was bleeding from her nose and mouth. The woman was still standing there, clad in a tight white body suit, her long jet black hair, flowing in the breeze. She was stunningly beautiful; so beautiful she looked other worldly, unreal. The collision left the woman unscathed, not even a rumple in her perfect form.

"Watch where you're going," she said to Leslie with zero sympathy in her voice.

Leslie felt anger. "You came out of nowhere!"

"I'm always here. You just did not see me," her tone felt like undiluted acid on Leslie's skin. Leslie flinched involuntarily but forced herself to take a few steps closer to the woman.

"Always here?"

"Be gone from me, male vermin, I have no use for you."

Leslie flinched as though she had been physically struck. "I am NOT male!" she roared, not even pausing a moment to process how this strange woman might even know that. "I don't know if your eyes work well, but I AM a woman!"

The woman's eyes were crystal blue and gorgeous. They ran over Leslie, up and down. She ran her blood red tongue over her dark red lips, regarding Leslie deliciously.

"I see." Her hard exterior melted away with her soft smile. "Forgive me. I might have use for you after all."

Leslie was still recovering from her outburst. How dare this woman. "Who are you anyway?"

"I am Sahgore," she walked up to Leslie, a slight sway to her hips and extended a perfectly manicured hand to her. Leslie couldn't help but take it. The woman was ideal and perfect in every way; she was an absolute dream, especially to Leslie. She could not stop gazing at Sahgore's body. She could feel her longing grow even more intensely, she felt crazy. She had never wanted anything this badly before.

Sahgore laughed, knowing exactly what she was going through. "I guess I was in the right place at the right time after all," she laughed. "I never miss an opportunity," she winked.

Leslie finally tore her eyes from Sahgore's body and met her gaze. "What are you saying?"

"What if I told you I can make your dream come true." It wasn't a question.

"My dream? Woman, you just met me, you don't…"

"Yes or no? I may not look like it, but I'm a very busy woman."

"What dream?"

"Oh, you know what dream, Leslie."

"How do you know my name?"

"I know everything you desire," Sahgore continued. "All your bad thoughts, actions, words; the things your grizzly heart secretly desires but you are too ashamed to admit, I revel in your every such desire."

Leslie gazed at her for a long time until her eyes were opened and Sahgore's true form was revealed. "Satan?"

"Not to you at the moment. Tonight, I am Sahgore, and I am here to give you the thing you desire the most."

"No thanks, I want nothing to do with you."

"And what next, a plastic vagina for the next time you are forced to show skin? And what about your boy toy?"

"Don't talk about him!"

"Come on, being able to stand naked before him. Being able to let him love you, being able to let your emotions for him flow, unbridled." Leslie momentarily got lost in the fantasy. Sahgore's voice grew titillating the closer she drew to Leslie. "I can give you what you crave. I can give him to you."

Leslie could feel herself slipping away in desire. "What's the catch? There's always a catch with you."

"Don't look at it that way. Think of it as a payment for my gift, a small token of your appreciation."

Leslie was not biting. "What do you want, my soul?"

"Oh honey, your soul is already mine," Sahgore smiled ever so sweetly. Leslie would have dissented, but she knew it was true. If there was any way for her to be a naturalized woman, she knew in her heart she was taking it.

"I'll be a real woman?"

"Of course."

"Beautiful, and with a hot body like yours?"

"Yes and yes.

Leslie was struggling to see the bad side of this deal. "What is the catch?" she asked desperately, slipping away with desire at the prospect.

"A payment is required, of course. Nothing good comes free."

"And what is the payment?!"

"Your eternal devotion to doing my bidding."

"What, like an internship? Running Satan's errands?"

Sahgore laughed. "You're funny. Do we have a deal?" She extended her hand for another handshake.

"And no matter what, I will always be a woman? You won't take that part back?"

"I will never take that part back, Leslie, I promise." Sahgore's hand was still extended.

Leslie hesitated. "And my life as it is wouldn't change?"

"You are in charge of all the changes that occur in your life."

"Will…?"

"You're stalling, Leslie," she said in a sing song voice.

"Last question, will it all truly work out? Can my life finally be what I want it to be?"

"That is all dependent on you, sweetheart. Now do we have a deal or not?" Her hand remained extended, unshaken.

Leslie took a deep breath. "Okay." She stepped forward and placed her hand in Sahgore's. Immediately she felt one of Sahgore's long nails dig deeply into her flesh, Leslie groaned as a streamline of blood dripped down onto the snow.

The wind rose and the snow flurried. "The bond is sealed," Sahgore said in a deep voice and Leslie suddenly felt very drained. She blacked out.

CHAPTER SIX

Leslie awoke in her own bed. She opened her eyes, groggy and confused as to what was going on. Her room looked the exact same except, on the floor by her bed stood her breastplate with the faux breasts on it. Leslie gasped, how did it get off her? She touched her chest and yelped feeling the mounds of soft flesh on her chest.

Leslie bolted upright and pulled up her night dress to reveal actual breasts on her chest; perfectly rounded C-cups. She had to clamp both hands over her mouth to cover the scream that involuntarily left her mouth.

She jumped out of the bed and ran to the long mirror, quickly stripping off her clothes. Tears ran down her eyes at her cleanly shaven pussy. She searched in vain for her dick; it was nowhere to be found, forever gone. Tears poured from Leslie's eyes; she couldn't believe it. She was stunning, beautiful, perfect, just like Sahgore had promised.

She glanced at her right palm; there was a faint pink line that ran across it. "Thanks Sahgore," she whispered, hoping that she wouldn't come to regret that statement, and last night.

Leslie left her bedroom, stark naked, and headed to the communal showers. She passed Joseph in the hallway, he was sweeping. The broom fell from his hands as he looked up, completely frozen in his tracks.

"Good morning, Joseph," Leslie said with a sweet smile. Joseph could not find his voice. "You wanted to see me, well here I am," Leslie spun around slowly so Joseph could see every inch of her glorious body. She left him standing frozen and numb.

Leslie entered the bathroom. Sybil and Billie were already in there showering. "Good morning ladies." Sybil gasped. Billie was beyond speechless. "Hello gorgeous," Leslie kissed Sybil on the cheek.

"Babe!" Sybil exclaimed, glancing at her. Billie could not utter a word as she regarded Leslie's far superior body.

"What's the matter, Billie, cat's got your tongue?" Billie had gone completely mute for the first time ever.

Leslie came down to the breakfast table still completely naked. She ate heartily. No one else could eat as they just stared at her.

"I guess I'm the only one ravenous," she mused. They were all practically gawking at her. "What? You told me to show more skin, isn't that right, Billie?" She turned to her. Billie still could not find her tongue. "Guys, I'm perfectly concerned for Billie, she might have gone mute."

Albert couldn't take it anymore. He got up and picked up an afghan off the couch. He draped it over Leslie.

"Save some for tonight, honey."

"Oh you bet your gorgeous ass, I will!" She spanked his bum as he walked passed her, surprising everyone.

Albert hired two more security guards; Paul and Wes, they were even bigger and fiercer than both Stan and Rusty. Albert stationed a man at each of the four corners of the stage.

'I dare anyone to touch any of my girls tonight.' He also went ahead and painted a thick yellow line, a foot from the stage and implemented a new rule, 'unless a dancer beckoned you to the stage, you weren't allowed to cross the yellow line.'

The night started with the usual festivities, but Leslie was anxious to get on stage, so the dances started earlier; more like the dance. Billie had claimed to be feeling under the weather and retired to her room, and Sybil voiced out that she thought Leslie deserved the night, and so the night commenced with the ominous voice, Albert's, announcing 'Curvaceous Candy' to the stage.

Music blared and the curtain was thrown open. Leslie bounded unto the stage in the sexiest catwalk, wearing the skimpiest underwear. It was bold in color and held together by tiny ruby beads. She didn't bother with the wig tonight or Candy's make up. She just had her luscious hair and sultry make up on.

Candy danced like she never had before. Leslie didn't know where she ended or where Candy begun and vice versa, tonight they were one. They had gotten their wish, their secret desire had been fulfilled, Lester was forever dead and they were free of him, forever and forever and forever.

Leslie/Candy danced with glee, stripping completely naked to everyone's delight. She danced and twirled, unabashed, showing every single part of her; even spreading her legs completely wide while dangling from a pole. She showed the entire crowd her brand new pussy. Her dance tonight was more vulgar than seductive but she didn't care, she had it all. She was finally free, finally herself. And that was never ever going to change!

The crowd was beyond wild, throwing all their money at her, fighting to get on the stage.

"I'm gonna have to hire even more security," Albert muttered gruffly to himself. The four men were barely holding the crowd back, but Leslie didn't seem to care. She laughed.

"Don't worry boys, there's plenty to go around." She didn't mean that at all though because although she danced and entertained the entire crowd, her eyes actively searched for one man; the only man in the whole world she cared about; the only man who was getting her pussy tonight. But though she searched and searched, she could not find him. He hadn't come tonight.

Suddenly Leslie felt raw fear. What if he never came back? What if she blew it? What if she never saw him again?

Though Leslie was sad at Jim's absence, all that dancing had worked her sexual appetite into a frenzy. She was getting dick tonight, one way or another.

Sybil and Billie usually had a good number of male 'companions' whom they hung out with after the club closed, late into the night. The whole point was to hook up with some of them. Leslie never went with them, of course, but now she saw no reason not to.

"Really?" both Sybil and Billie exclaimed; Sybil in excitement, Billie in distain.

"Yes, why not," Leslie shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. Her vagina was tingling very badly.

"I'm so amazed with you today," Sybil said.

"Yeah, what's gotten into you?" Billie asked.

Leslie shrugged. "I guess I just got tired of being the prude," she threw Billie a dirty look and Billie rolled her eyes.

"Does not mean you should go overboard, showing your cunt like that," Billie retorted.

"Jealous?" Leslie threw Billie's signature line at her with a wink, excited that Billie had actually watched her dance. She linked her arm through Sybil's. "Lead the way." Sybil just laughed making Billie scowl deeper.

Tanner snuck them some booze. It suddenly made sense why Albert was always complaining that the alcohol numbers didn't add up at the end of each night. Billie gave him a sultry air kiss.

"Don't fuck too many guys tonight," Tanner teased, he was about to go out with his boys and had no intension on being true to what he had just told her and she knew it too.

"I'll try my best," Billie responded in a flirty manner, having no intension of keeping her word either. Tanner laughed, he knew that. They shared a quick kiss.

Leslie watched them in longing and admiration of their relationship; she desperately wanted something like that. Right now she couldn't think past being horny.

"Come on, Billie! Let's go," Leslie cried.

"Dang!" Tanner exclaimed. They were all looking at her, but Leslie didn't care. She grabbed one of the bottles, pulled the cap off easily with her teeth, and to everyone's surprise, chugged half the bottle. Leslie hardly drank, she was a light weight.

"Slow down, babe," Sybil cautioned.

"I'm fine." Leslie started walking out the door. "Let's go."

They were out in the bushes, drinking and laughing around a small bon fire. There were nine of them in total. Three men were all over Sybil, Billie was sandwiched between two men, and the last one was seated beside Leslie, barely. Leslie found the alcohol more interesting than any of the guys. And the guy beside her saw that he had no chance with his first or second choice and so he turned his attention on Leslie and tried to keep her interested but Leslie wasn't impressed. She just wanted to drink and she wanted… Jim.

"What if I never see him again? I probably won't after the way I treated him…"

"Did you hear what I said?" the man asked.

"What?" Leslie was shit faced drunk.

"I said you are the prettiest woman in the world."

Leslie pointed at Sybil. "She is the prettiest woman in the world."

The man pretended not to look at Sybil. "No, you are."

"Do you want to fuck?" Leslie blurted out, too intoxicated to play coy games.

"Err, sure." Leslie pulled him to his feet with surprising strength and led him further into the bushes.

The man quickly pulled down his pants, he was already erect. "How do you want to do this?" he asked eagerly. Leslie was instead taken aback, there was a new smell in the air; she couldn't figure it out, if it was good or bad.

The man stepped closer to her since she wasn't moving. "Don't be shy," he cooed, loosening her corset. He kissed her bare shoulders. Leslie was too distracted by the smell. She tried to make it out, maple syrup? Blueberry jam? Strawberry tart?

"Do you smell that?" she asked.

"No, but I want to," he murmured against her shoulder, too distracted by her to pay attention to anything else.

The smell was chemical and at the same time sickening sweet, like a cheap fruit perfume that had gone rancid, mixed with barbecue sauce. The man was sucking deeply on her neck and fondling her exposed breasts, she did not even remember him bringing them out.

"There's no way you can't smell that," she said, too distracted by the smell to concentrate on anything else. The man murmured something unintelligibly on her neck.

Leslie was done with this; she had to get away from the smell. "Stop," she said. The man protested, holding her closer to him. "I said stop!" Leslie pushed him away, so hard, he was knocked back a couple of feet away from her. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud, hitting his head on the ice.

Leslie turned away abruptly. She could smell it but she knew she couldn't afford to see it, knowing she wouldn't be able to bear it. She had to get away from there. She dashed away from him towards the others, barely fixing her dress as she ran.

Sybil looked up from the men vying for her affection. "Babe, what's wrong?" Leslie was too dazed to answer. She looked around confused, looking for the source of the smell.

"Do any of you smell that?"

"You're drunk, babe," Sybil said gently. "We'll take you back home."

"We?" Billie protested, as both of her men were taking turns to kiss on her neck and fondle her.

Sybil stood up ignoring her men's protests. She held Leslie's arm, which was sleek with sweat and trembling slightly. "You must have a fever, you poor thing. Come on Billie, let's go." They never left each other alone, for their safety, they always stuck together.

Billie grunted and stood up, to the protest of her men. "Leslie, the ruiner of fun," she muttered under her breath. Somehow Leslie heard her.

That night Leslie's dreams were disjointed and nightmarish, involving a lot of graphic violence, sex, and death.

Leslie awoke ravenous the next morning. Her head was pounding. "I will never drink alcohol again," she groaned at the breakfast table.

"It's probably for the best, honey," Sybil said.

"You didn't drink that much," Tanner said amused.

"Light weight," Billie said. Even though it was usual for Billie to make jab comments at her, this morning Leslie felt such a surge of anger, she had to struggle to calm it down and remain composed.

When Gladys brought the food, Leslie thought she would lose her mind. The others watched her eat in fascination. She had always watched her figure and picked at her food, but now such thoughts were far from Leslie's mind.

"Slow down, Leslie," Albert said, amused.

"She probably caught syphilis from last night," Billie muttered facetiously to herself but once more, Leslie heard her, and she lost it. All the latent anger rose to the surface and she jumped to her feet, knocking her food and almost everyone else's to the floor as she swept the dishes off the table. She would have jumped at Billie's throat, but for Tanner jumping up defensively in front of her.

Everyone was on their feet.

"Leslie, calm down," Albert growled but Leslie wasn't hearing him. Her bloodshot eyes were on Billie. No one had ever seen her look so fierce, she was terrifying. Billie shrunk back, scared.

"One more word from you, and I'll rip your putrid tongue out of your foul mouth!" Leslie growled then stormed to her bedroom, slamming the door so hard the whole building rattled.

Everyone remained standing for a while, still in deep shock.

"You finally broke her, Billie," Sybil said sadly, shaking her head.

CHAPTER SEVEN

That night Leslie did not dance as enthusiastically as she had done the night before. The men were still very interested though because she was hot and twirling around in her shimmering beaded two piece; it made her look beyond exotic. Leslie scanned the crowd, he wasn't present. Her heart sank to the pit of her stomach; it took all in her to keep on dancing. For some reason this night, with all the melancholy it brought, Leslie couldn't help thinking of her father.

Lester was fifteen at the time. It was the two year anniversary of his mother's death. He sat before his mom's dressing table and applied her makeup to his face, loving how beautiful he looked, just like his mother. His father hadn't had the heart to get rid of his mother's things yet, and for that Lester was grateful. His father was hardly home anymore, and Lester was even more grateful for that, despite the fact that his father came home drunk every night.

Nothing in particular was going through his mind that day except he just knew he couldn't live another day as Lester. He hated himself so much that he wanted to die. If he didn't see Leslie in the reflection that stared back at him; he didn't want to live another day.

He heard his father's footsteps long before he opened the bedroom door. Lester didn't stop what he was doing. He saw his father's shocked expression, in the mirror turn into a glare as his trembling hands continued to apply rouse to his cheeks.

"What the fuck, Lester?" was all his father was able to choke out.

"Leslie. My name is Leslie."

He had barely completed his name when his father rushed at him, dragging him off the stool and knocking him to the ground. Lester screamed as his father violently dragged him out the room, by his neck…

Later that night, his father had barged into his bedroom to scream at him some more, and to threaten him, but he stopped short. He found Lester on the floor, an empty bottle of pills by his hand.

"Lester!" he ran to his side, shaking him. All the anger and hate from earlier, completely disappeared. "Lester!! Shit! Shit!"

Lester awoke lying on a hospital bed, tubes attached to him. His father was asleep on the chair next to his bed. Lester reached for the bed pan beside the bed, knocking some things over in the process, waking up his father, but Lester paid him no mind. He brought the pan to his face and gazed at his reflection. All the makeup had been wiped off his face. And his face was swollen and red.

"Did you wipe off my makeup before bringing me here?" His father's expression was soft but it confirmed his statement. Lester glared at him. "You can beat me all you want, you can attempt to suppress me, you can even kill me if you like, but I am Leslie and that is never going to change."

"Lester, you don't know what you're talking about," his father said as gently as he could muster. "Rest, we'll talk about this later."

"There is nothing to talk about. This is me, father," tears spilled from his eyes. "You either let me be me or I will kill myself."

"Don't you see, even if I let you be, someone else will kill you. If I hadn't wiped that foul thing off your face, you'd have awoken to handcuffs. And you'd be carted off to jail once you are able."

"I don't care! Let them kill me. I will rather live for just one minute as Leslie, than for another second as Lester."

His father shook his head in agony. "The malady is worse than I thought. Once you are able, I will have you committed to the psych ward."

Lester gave a wry laugh, not surprised at all.

"They have this new medicine and psychology; Sigmund Freud, have you heard about him? Maybe he'll be able to help you."

Lester just shook his head in despair.

"They will heal you, you'll see. They will cure you of this disease and you can be the son I've always wanted."

"It's too bad you didn't have a son then."

He awoke later that night, it was almost dawn. He was alone in his room. Neither his father nor any of the nurses and doctors was in sight through his open door. Lester got out of bed and got dressed quickly. He stuffed the sandwich, apple, small pack of milk and Jell-O that a nurse had left for him on a small tray, into his pockets and snuck out of the hospital.

Leslie was pulled out of her reminiscing, as a man, enwrapped by her sexy movements, stepped across the yellow line. Stan stopped him before he could climb the stage. But it wasn't his attempt that struck Leslie, but the smell that radiated off of him; that sickly sweet smell from last night; that she still couldn't place. Now that she noticed it, it hit her like a wave of nausea. The whole room reeked of it, the overwhelming smell, her stomach churned and her throat felt constricted.

She couldn't continue with her act, she had to get out of there. Leslie turned around and ran off the stage to everyone's surprise, especially Albert's, who just assumed it was because of the man's attempt to climb the stage.

'Damn!'

Leslie tried to sleep off the nausea, but she was much too restless. She was sweating and shivering at the same time. And she was ravenous, despite the fact she had just gorged herself on a lot of food in the kitchen. Gladys hadn't been too happy about that because now she'd have to cook some more food for the others, instead of going to bed.

A tiny part of Leslie worried that Billie might be right, maybe she did have something after all. She shook her head fiercely. She hadn't done anything with the guy from last night so… She scratched hard. Her skin itched terribly, her teeth were hurting, and she was incredibly thirsty, even after drinking three bottles of water.

"I need strong liquor to knock me out so I can beat this malady, whatever this is."

Leslie threw on some black loose fitting clothes and wore a cap to cover her hair. She was going to feign being a man and go downstairs to the bar. She desperately hoped it would work; she could not deal with the thought of having to wrestle men off of her, not tonight. And all the body guards would be too busy guarding the stage to come to her rescue, as the other girls still had their acts tonight. Leslie thought about sending Joseph to fetch her the liquor, but she didn't feel like dealing with him either. So she decided to go herself, but first, she tied a piece of cloth over her nose and mouth to diminish the smell, whatever it was, and to further aid her disguise.

She made it to the bar, head down. Tanner gave her a dirty look as he poured her a drink. Leslie rolled her eyes. How dare he be mad at her after all the years he had said nothing as his girlfriend verbally tortured her; he had even laughed at Billie's jokes sometimes.

Leslie took the shot underneath the cloth; she loved the rush as it went to her head. She tapped the shot glass twice on the counter, indicating to Tanner to pour her another drink. He obliged wordlessly.

The lights dimmed and the music came on and Sybil came on the stage, capturing everyone's attention at once, including Tanner's.

Leslie descended to a stool by the bar, sipping her drink and watching her friend dance, her heart warming. Sybil always made her feel at home, wherever she was.

"Hello, Leslie," a voice whispered in her ear.

Leslie spun around. It was him! "Jim." Tears filled her eyes.

He looked away, almost shyly, and looked back at her. "Hi."

"Hi," she said warmly. "How did you know it was me?"

"I recognize you any day."

They were upstairs in Leslie's bedroom, on Leslie's bed, talking amid desperate kisses.

"Jim, I'm so sorry for all I said, I didn't mean it." She breathed, pulling him even closer.

"Then why did you say it?" He put his arms around her waist.

"I was stupid. I always push people away," her hands were beneath his clothes, running over his bare chest. "I guess I was afraid."

He pulled back. "Of what?"

Leslie looked away. She couldn't say anything for a while. "Afraid of rejection. Afraid of losing you."

He looked at her as though she was crazy. "What are you talking about? Why would I reject you, when I've wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you?" He moved even closer to her. "You can't lose me, Leslie. I want you more than anything." She fell into his arms and they kissed some more.

Leslie pulled back. "You don't understand, it's because I'm different now…"

"I noticed. Somehow you're even more beautiful, how is that possible?"

She bit her lip. "I sold my soul to the devil."

Jim burst out laughing. "Beautiful and funny, is there anything you are not?"

Leslie said nothing. She loved the feel of his lips on hers, his touch; he was running a hand over her bare nipples. The sensation was out of this world. Jim pulled off her cap, letting her auburn hair loose. He pulled off her shirt and took a nipple in his mouth. Leslie moaned.

"I should tell him," she thought to herself but she didn't want this to end. Jim was laying her down on the bed, pulling off her baggy bottoms. "I should make him understand," Leslie gasped and couldn't think past the tongue gliding into her, tasting her. She shook involuntarily.

Through the peep hole she had watched Sybil experience this several times, she had seen the insurmountable amounts of pleasure on her face, she had lived vicariously through her, but nothing compared to this. The pleasure was so divine, Leslie momentarily thought she had died and moved on to a happier place.

Jim's lips traveled to her mouth. Leslie was bliss, but then she couldn't help noticing the sickly sweet smell. She had noticed it the entire time Jim was in her room, but she had tried to push it from her mind and concentrate fully on Jim. But with each passing moment, the smell grew stronger and it was becoming very hard to ignore. Like a thousand bottles of cheap perfumes had been poured into her room. The smell was intoxicating. Leslie was trying not to gag.

"Do you smell that?" she whispered.

"I smell you," Jim whispered, honestly, looking into her eyes. "And I love it," Leslie's heart warmed. "I love you."

Jim wriggled out of his clothes and lay on top of her. Leslie felt the tip of his erection against her opening. "Would you still love me in the morning?" Leslie whispered.

Jim seemed taken aback by the question. "Of course, Leslie. I would always love you, even if you don't love me back."

"I love you," she whispered. He kissed her.

Leslie gave a sharp gasp as she felt him push into her. "Are you okay," he whispered huskily. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm perfect. It's just… It's just my first time." She looked so beautiful with her hair spread out over the pillow.

"Oh Leslie," he kissed her again, almost hungrily. She clutched on to him as he thrust into her, softly and sweetly. Leslie loved it all, the feel of him inside of her, the feel of his body against hers. It was all she had ever wanted. She was living the life she had always wanted. And all would have been perfect, but for the smell.

Leslie buried her face into Jim's neck to avoid the smell but that was when it hit her, the smell was him, or coming from him at least. Instantly, she knew! She knew she should pull away. She knew she needed to push him off of her with all her strength and run out of the room, but she was absolutely helpless.

"Stop… I can't!"

Leslie reared her head back and bit deeply into his neck, so deep that Jim could not even scream. He froze as sharp teeth tore into his flesh, ripping out a chuck of it as easily as biting off a piece of bread.

Jim's head slumped to the pillow beside her head as blood gushed out of his neck, drowning both of them in it.

"No!!!" Her head screamed, but she could not stop chewing the chunk of flesh, it tasted so good. "Stop, it's Jim!" Leslie bit off a chuck off his shoulder. "You can still save him, rush him to the hospital." She chewed faster and swallowed hungrily. "Jim! Jim, my love." She lapped at the blood. Tearing off another chunk of flesh.

"Jim!" her soul cried.

It was 3am and Leslie was seated on the floor, far away from the bed, crying her eyes out.

"Jim," she choked, unable to look at what was left of the bloody mess on her bed. She cried so much she couldn't breathe.

The clock struck 3:33.

Sahgore.

Leslie jumped to her feet, threw on some clothes and dashed out of her bedroom, ensuring to lock the door behind her. She ran as fast as her legs would take her to the cliff where she had first met her.

Sahgore was in a red body suit this time; the red matched the color of blood that was all over Leslie's face and body. Sahgore was expecting her.

"You!" Leslie could not even muster enough anger; she was in too much pain. She broke down crying, crumbling to her knees on the snow. "Bring him back, please bring him back. I'll do anything," she cried.

"But you have nothing else to give, honey," Sahgore said, almost motherly. "I own the ultimate thing you have; I own you."

Leslie kept on crying profusely. "You promised I wouldn't lose anything dear to me."

"I never made such a promise, darling," Sahgore said with almost too much sweetness. "And how I am to know what you hold dear?"

"You knew! He was the only person I've ever loved that way. Why?"

"Get up, sweetheart. It's all about perspective."

Leslie picked up a rock and furiously flung it at her. It passed through Sahgore easily. "You bitch!"

Sahgore looked at her pathetically. "Honey…"

"Don't patronize me!" Leslie rushed at her, but one look from Sahgore froze her in place.

"Don't try my patience, sweetheart. You got what you asked for. I never made any promises that things would be easy."

"You've got my soul, wasn't that enough?" Rivers of tears flowed from her eyes.

Sahgore just laughed. "This is only the beginning, my sweet succubus…"

Leslie was back in her bedroom. She knew she had to toughen up as Sahgore had said, but she couldn't stop crying. The day was due to break in an hour; she knew she had to hurry. She rolled her blood soaked sheets around the body, still refusing to look at it. At Jim.

With surprising strength she carried the body out into the woods. She had forgotten to bring a shovel with her in her haste and the sun was almost rising. Not knowing what else to do, she buried him in the snow. Knowing she'd have to return sometime before Spring and give him a proper burial.

"Oh Jim."

The sky was starting to lighten when she got back, she was grateful everyone was still asleep. She took her entire mattress to the shower and washed it thoroughly. Deep throngs of blood flowed from it.

She showered intensely, scrubbing the blood off of her. She was so terrified that at any moment any of the girls would walk into the bathroom to shower, or Joseph would walk in to clean the place. And the blasted bathroom door didn't have a lock.

Leslie wrung the mattress as best as she could and then carried it back to her room. She ran into Joseph in the hallway on her way to her bedroom. Leslie froze, her head spinning a mile a minute on an explanation to give Joseph. Then the obvious one hit her.

"Time of the month," she gave the best sheepish smile she could give.

"Mm hmm," was all Joseph said as he walked passed her.

"He doesn't believe me! Why wouldn't he? Did he see something?! Keep it together, Leslie." She resumed her trip to her bedroom, locking the door behind her.

She let her mattress stand; leaning it against the wall beside her open window, hoping it would be dry by bedtime. Speaking of which, she was in no state of mind to do anything other than cry and sleep. She threw a bunch of her clothes on the floor, making a soft bundle. There Leslie spent the day on the floor, simultaneously crying and sleeping.

Albert had knocked on her door and so had Sybil, all Leslie managed to choke out was, 'period.'

"Leslie, honey, please let me come in," Sybil had begged, but Leslie hadn't obliged. Sybil finally went away.

"Oh Jim, my love, I am so, so sorry."

(To be Continued)