Chapter 60

It seemed so strange; to step back over that threshold of the past. Only to know it was into a whole different future.

The entrance hall of your parent's house was as ostentatious as ever. Filled with last year's fashion in random, impractical pieces of artsy furniture and trashy art. They had hired interior designers in constantly, to keep things 'fresh' and 'up to date'... yet no-one ever even glanced at whatever was there. It was all just utterly required background noise to the perfect life they had to portray… much like you and your step-sister had been.

Now you stood upon that marble floor in stilettoed heels and recognised how empty this house had always felt, despite the constant bustle of 'household assistants' and evening soirées. The fact that none of those strangers were coming and going anymore, hardly seemed to matter. Instead, you felt a warm breeze sidling in at your back… as you entered with a ragged collection of barely dressed prostitutes and their sort-of incestuous offspring. This silent, plastic place was about to be turned upside down and made into something far more genuine and unwholesome.

You saw your step-father emerge from one of the side corridors, wearing a dishevelled designer suit with his shirt hanging loose and being guided companionly around the shoulder by Skeg. He could not hide the look of horror upon his face as he took in the arriving motley crew who were to be his new 'tenants' and housemates.

"Just for a few months… until I can pay you back. You know that right?! We agreed!"

Skeg flashed an occasionally-toothed smile. One filled with the warm chuckles of just how likely they both knew that scenario was.

"Of course. Of course! Wouldn't want to step on any toes 'ere mate. You know me… just another honest businessman, like you!"

Behind you, you heard your step-sister snicker. Though whether that was more over the suggestion of Skeg’s honesty or her parent's, you couldn’t tell. It hardly mattered. You all knew what had occurred here: Your step-father’s life had spiralled so far out of control since you two had ran away and Mother had left him… That he'd ended up owing money to all the wrong people. Since he was such a regular customer at the tool shop, Skeg had caught wind… and smelled an opportunity in the air. So now your mansion of a childhood home… was to become a much grander stage for your bawdy industry.

The rest of the new arrivals filtered on through the hall, heading into the back section. Once the realm of servants and staff, that would now be where your growing extended family would live; safely separated from the goings on out front. You, however… began climbing the stairs in a trance. Following the footsteps of a boy who no longer was. It was a candy-pink haired harlot who pushed open your old bedroom door after all: Bare, smooth legs stretching out beneath the hem of your mini-skirt. Thong straps rising from this onto hips tattooed with flowers and lurid invitations. While above a scandalous tie-top threatened to pop loose at any moment, unleashing the bra-less bosom you had been surgically provided.

You had grown into a vision of sordid, sultry femininity. A picture of everything that perhaps a mother would hope her daughter wouldn't grow up to be. A fantasy in flaunted flesh, precision carved only for the benefit of other's eyes. The reflection that looked back at you from the mirror of your childhood was one that no-one could walk past without secretly wanting to leer at, grope or fuck. One that simply begged to fulfil all the unsuitable, unthinkable desires that humanity in its ugly generality harboured.

Yet, when you sat down on that squeaky, old bed… you could still feel a ghost within you. Of that shy, scared little boy who held onto nothing more than an unhealthy obsession with his step-sister. It was kind of reassuring, really… to know he was still in there somewhere. That your whole life before the flat above the tool shop had not just been a fever dream. But he was just a ghost. You were someone else entirely now: Aunty Jo. The cock-guzzling sissy prostitute who never said no to any erotic demand from anyone.

And this room was now going to be a workspace where you would be taken by endless unknown lovers, time after time after time.