Chapter 9

Evil, sexy Maria seduces a **** mind-controller into being as evil as her.

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Estelle Worthington, on the other side of town, was having a difficult time with the police. They sat in her office in one of the two high rise buildings in Rosington. It was late, and Sheriff Miles Hanson had to text his wife a few times to assure her he would be home soon. Estelle had watched him do this with growing impatience and scorn.

Rosington was a small town and had a small town’s police ****—which meant mostly just the sheriff and a series of deputies, foremost among them his wife Luciana.

“Are you really not getting this? Joslyn is dirty. She’s bad for this town. You need to take her down. That’s all there is to it.”

“Yeah, sure, okay,” said Sheriff Hanson, “but we need evidence. You can bribe me all the money in the world, and hey, please do, but I still need some kind of evidence to convict somebody. This isn’t communist Russia, you know. This is America.”

“Right,” said Estelle. “America. Where a bribe has to be moral. Fine.” She took a breath. “There is evidence there. There is also probable cause. The evidence is on her computer. It’s been there for weeks now. The cause is that she is defrauding her own company to pay for her husband’s medical bills. Tomorrow, there will be a substantial sum arriving in her bank account from an unknown account. Follow that account, and eventually you will ‘find’ her wrongdoing.”

“You used air quotes there,” said the sheriff. “We won’t find it?”

The sheriff was a large man, barrel-chested, and approaching fifty. He had a thick mound of hair that wrapped neatly all the way around his skull, layered with pomade. He stunk of barbecue and burnt cigarettes.

“You won’t need to. You’re going to make it up.”

“See,” said the sheriff. “That’s where this starts to look bad. Aren’t you putting her out of business anyway? What do you care?”

The truth was that Estelle wanted Joslyn ruined. She wanted her entire life torn to ribbons, annihilated, destroyed. Estelle had wanted that for ages—that was how and why she had developed all her business connections. Those savory and sweet—like working alongside local entrepreneurs and community colleges and the like—and those far less savory, and far less sweet. Those connections had allowed her to have access to sweaty gym bags full of cash—which was where the stack in front of the Sheriff had come from.

Hurting Joslyn wasn’t everything. It was the only thing, and Estelle would do it and love every last second of it. No price was too high.

Estelle reached down into the case next to her and pulled out another stack of bills worth ten thousand dollars.

The sheriff eyed it for a moment, and then eyed Estelle. She sighed, and pulled out another stack.

“Ah,” said Sheriff Hanson. “I knew I didn’t care. Consider her arrested. It’ll take a couple of days to put all the paperwork together, go through the investigation, make sure it looks right.”

“I’m not bribing you this much so that you can take your time with it,” said Estelle. Her face was fiery. “You need to—”

Sheriff Hanson held up a hand. “Listen. I’m your boy. I’ll fetch this, grab that. Do this or that. Whatever you like. But this could ruin my life. So I’m going to do everything else right so nobody thinks to look for a fraudulent evidence report. That could bring down both of us in time. All right?”

Estelle crossed her arms. “Fine. Just make it as quick as possible.”

She watched him leave and took a long, satisfied breath. Soon. It would be over soon.

She would take Joslyn’s career and ruin her life. Maybe she would even buy her house. Maybe, just maybe, she could convince her rival to kill herself in the jail cell. And if she couldn’t convince her of that…well.

The sheriff had already proved he could be bought. There was no telling what else he might do for money.

* * * * *

Quinn was in the break room, munching away at a box of animal crackers and feeling guilty about it. The sugar-sweetened bread did a good job of washing away the guilt, though not as good as they might when dipped in some chocolate or a bit of butterscotch.

She sighed, looking down at the half-eaten tub. All of that because a few clients had been more bristly than usual this morning. She took a few fingers to the layer of chub around her gut, sighing.

This eating bullshit really had to stop. She had made the promise before, lots of times, and in lots of different ways, and even the resolution to really make the change this time felt hollow to her.

Thank God Caleb didn’t seem to mind. As long as she blew him a couple of times a week and agreed to do anal once in a while, he didn’t seem to mind how she looked at all. And it wasn’t as if he were some prize anyway. Balding at twenty-eight and refusing to shave his head like a normal man might. She didn’t have the heart to tell him how easily everyone could look through his comb-over.

She suspected he would propose soon. She would say yes, of course. Quinn had always dreamed of getting married. And Caleb, while perhaps not some billionaire bad ass, was a good man with a strong work ethic. He would provide for a family and give her and whatever children they had a good life.

Quinn loved him, totally, despite all his flaws, and she knew that love would carry them through any hardship. The two were locked in for the long-term.

Robert entered the room suddenly, smiling down at Quinn.

Fuck, there was something about him. At first, when he had arrived at the office, Quinn thought he was sort of a schlub, dressing like a loser with loose pants and looser shirts. But over time, her attraction rose—ratcheting up from small glances across the office while he spoke with the young knockout, Natalie, to indulging in fully-blown intricate fantasies of him bending her over at work. Often these fantasies would arrive while she was fucking or blowing Caleb, resulting in all the more enthusiasm for his cock.

Her boyfriend had been very complimentary of her work in the bedroom as of late.

The last couple of days, though, Robert had stopped dressing quite so shabbily. He wore a tight button-up today that create a nice v-line down his torso, with dark slacks that gave a good shape to the buttocks that she hadn’t known he had. Before, her attraction had been based on something other than the physical—something intangible, a machismo or an attitude that he projected that she found erotic and enticing. But this was the first time he had seemed handsome to her.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling.

She smiled brightly up at him, deftly moving the animal cracker tub aside, as if it had been in her way all this time and she definitely was not eating her feelings with it. “Good morning! You’re looking sharp.”

“Thank you.” He sat down across from her, smiling and oozing confidence.

Quinn, for a reason she couldn’t explain, felt both a little scared and very turned on. Something was going to happen here. Was he going to ask her out? Fuck. Caleb wouldn’t like that at all. He was so insecure about other guys.

She thought quickly of how it would surprise her if he did ask her out. She sort of thought him and Maria were hitting it off.

And wasn’t she terrifying? The first day that Maria had begun work there, Quinn had been the one to show her the ropes. She’d had the office manager job for nearly a year before moving over to sales. And so she showed Maria how to process files, how to log sales, how to fix the always-jamming copier, and so on. But what the statuesque beauty only really seemed to be paying attention to was Quinn, measuring her for weakness.

At the end of the day, Maria spoke plainly to her: “You seem like a sweet enough girl. Don’t get in my way, and do what I say, and I won’t crush you. How does that sound?”

She had this dazzling smile while she made this proposal, a genuinely magnanimous look on her face, like she was doing Quinn a favor not only for speaking with her, but for offering to let her off the hook. Quinn, ever the social coward, had merely shrugged, looking down awkwardly, and nodded.

Power was made for girls like Maria, anybody could see. What someone like her was doing in an office like this instead of in a modeling agency or on the arm of some billionaire was anyone’s guess.

“Have you heard anything about Joslyn?” he asked.

“Maria said she called in,” said Quinn. “I think she’s sick?”

“Good,” he said, nodding. “That’s good.”

“Good?”

He smiled, taking her hand. His grip was firm, hands rough and strong. “Expected. I wasn’t sure if I had remembered to tell her to say that or not.”

A strong, pleasant warmth swept over Quinn’s body and mind. She felt like had taken a hit off a bong. Everything began to slow down, and every detail of the room suddenly seemed very inviting…and very erotic. Her tongue ran across her lips slowly, a low moan escaping her mouth.

“I don’t know if…we should do this,” she heard herself saying. The promise of sex was immediate and tangible, despite no build-up whatsoever. Her legs were wide open, stretching the bounds of her modest skirt. “Caleb…he might…”

“Caleb isn’t here. A few clients needed his personal attention. I made sure of it.”

“How?”

“They were very concerned about an anonymous phone call that their rates would double next month.”

“Oh. That’s clever.”

She was distantly aware that something was happening to her. Even Happening, capital H. An Event in her life, a Turning Point. But what it was, what it entailed, was beyond her understanding until the first orgasm swept through her body.

It started like a low, eager ball in the pit of her stomach, and then began to spin and rotate rapidly, expanding as it did. Each area it touched was overwhelmed by bliss until finally it escaped from her mouth with a happy cry.

“Fuck!” she moaned. “Oh god, god!”

Quinn spun in her chair, thrashing, held steady only by Robert's hand. The next several minutes were all pleasure and change. She only knew of the former. She did not see her lengths lengthening, her body morphing to be the exaggerated form of some pin-up girl with a tiny waist, big tits, long legs, and flawless tanned skin. The only thing she did notice, in fact, was when her hair began to turn a deep auburn red.

“R…red hair?” she asked dimly. Thinking was so hard when she felt so, so fucking good.

“I’ve already got a blonde,” Robert said, as if that explained everything, “And a brunette with Natalie, and black hair with Maria. So, you get red.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “Caleb…he’ll like that.”

Robert’s gaze became intense, and she felt herself very much not caring what Caleb thought. She ought to break up with him, in fact. He was nothing to her. A waste. A loser. An inferior male not worthy of her time or attention. She would break his heart. In fact—

“—Other men just aren’t good enough for a girl owned by you, Master.”

Had she been speaking this whole time? Reality was so strange, so erotic. Her cunt dripped a puddle on her seat, her clothes in tatters around her body. The sudden width of her hips and breadth of her tits had ripped her modest suit apart.

“That’s right. No one but me for you now.”

He took her by the face and led her down toward his cock, which was the most beautiful, perfect cock she’d ever seen in her life. She didn't even remember him unbuttoning his pants. After a moment, she realized it was the only cock she had ever seen in her life—and still it was the most beautiful anything she had ever seen, even more beautiful than Maria, though of course the two were gorgeous for entirely different reasons.

Her newly-realized-virgin lips slid over his rod, and he took a thick grip of the massive volume of her phoenix-red hair. Her tits, massive and heaving, slid along his knees, already slick with the overwhelming pouring of his precum. Well-formed abdominal muscles kept her posture perfect, her tiny, thin body little more now than a receptacle for her Master's cum.

“Good girl,” he sighed, sliding his hands through her hair. “That’s so good.”

Quinn had never been happier in all her life.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

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