The Interview

Wendell had lain in the bed for almost an hour. He had heard Stacy grab up some things. He'd heard the rustling of fabric as she got dressed. He also heard the door come open and close as Stacy left. There, in the dark and sexually satisfied, lucidity followed.

What the hell am I still laying here for? My arms are numb. I'm sticky. I got jealous of that woman. I let Stacy boss me around. Ugh, I ate cum. That had to be some...quirk... of biology right? Yeah, that's it. It's all from just being in this body. The first time I pulled away immediately and this time it's from being in Lana. I gotta get up and get the hell out of this; it's too fucking weird.

Wendell started twisting his wrists to get free. He pulled his knees up into Lana's breasts, and managed to get his tied arms past his legs and around to his front. He started twisting again and reached up to take the blindfold off.

If she comes back and catches me wriggling like this she's going to punish me even worse. There'll be even more pain and more...

A renewed wetness began in Wendell's borrowed pussy. The mere thought of being punished brought forward the same docility Wendell had just been struggling to escape. He sighed and stopped struggling, his hands went limp leaving the blindfold in place.

Who am I kidding? I couldn't walk away from this. Does that really mean I have to be her... plaything? Maybe she'd be willing to set some rules. She'd likely take offense at the mere suggestion and spank my ass... Maybe she should. I am just a naughy slut after all- What the hell am I saying?

He reached up and tore off the blindfold. Stacy had turned out the lights, and overcast daylight peaked in through the curtains giving Lane's room a subdued light. Wendell sat forward on the bed, the senstation of Lana's breasts being pulled about was still alien to him, but completely welcome. He put his hands out front and set about working his wrists free. The fabric wasn't tied very tightly, nor tied in a complicated knot, so it came free easily enough. He cast aside the cloth and put his face into Lana's hands.

Wendell pulled away his hands and surveyed the room. It had a soft and luxurious feel without seeming feminine. Stacy had taken Lane and Mrs. Reich with her wherever she'd gone. There really wasn't much to see. Wendell pushed himself up and off the bed. The numbness in Wendell's arms was leaving quickly giving an unsettling tingling feeling, like a horde of tiny stinging insects all over his arms. He rubbed Lana's wrists. They were thin and hairless unlike his own. He walked out into the living room. The apartment wasn't the largest in the world. In truth it was a simple two-bedroom; it was a moderate space that was luxurious for its furnishings, not its size. A sofa sat on a soft rug in the middle of the room facing a television that sat adjacent to a pair of double doors that led out onto a balcony. Past all of that an open kitchen, and a wide dining table and then another door: Lana's room.

I've already seen about as much of Lana's dirty laundry as I can. I think me poking around her room would probably be the least of her complaints.

He pushed open the door and Lana's room was much like her brother's. It was new, and the furniture was a matched set. Her room however, had a softer touch. The bedframe was taller and more feminine in style. She had a vanity dresser with a small seat. Wendell actually got a small jolt from seeing Lana in the mirror unexpectedly.

Heh. With these things hanging off my chest you'd think it'd be hard to forget.

Wendell pulled out the seat and sat down before the mirror. Lana's face was a mess. Her mascara and eyeshadow been smeared and the front of her hair was crusty. Wendell looked at all the cosmetics lined up and even peeked in one of the drawers. It was filled with tubes of mascara and pads of eyeshadow.

Sorry Lana. I'd fix this up, but I don't really know how to do it. Maybe Stacy could show me... Gosh, am I really expecting to spend that much time as a woman?

He straightened Lana's hair a bit in the mirror as best he could. The sight of Lana moving in the mirror brought a small smile to Wendell.

She is pretty... isn't she? I wonder if she likes looking in the mirror? I would, with a body like this... heh. I do have a body like this don't I? At least for the time being.

Wendell studied Lana's face more. He turned her head to all sorts of angles and made all sorts of expressions. Lana's nipples hardened. Then he sighed.

Yeah. I definitely couldn't walk away from this.

He got up, pushed the seat back in towards the vanity, and left Lana's room. The sofa, isolated and lit by the balcony window, caught Wendell's eye.

Why not? Maybe some background noise will help me think.

He flopped himself down and looked around for a remote to the massive television. After feeling around, he found that the middle of the sofa had a storage space and inside were remotes, one of which had the same label as the TV.

When it flickered to life, the TV was on a station showing some soap opera. Wendell changed the channel and in rapid succession he saw a music video, a shampoo commercial, a shot of a couple of dogs running down an alley, a black and white gangster film, Mrs. Reich, a clown eating breakfast cereal, a toy commercial, -

Wait, what?

Wendell flicked the station back, and there was Mrs. Reich smoking a cigarette in the lobby of some building downtown, presumably her office.

"So?" Mrs. Reich took a drag from her cigarette, "who cares?"

"Are you suggesting that the layoffs at Downing Harrow are the fault of the employees?" An interviewer held a microphone out from off camera towards Mrs. Reich's face.

"Suggesting? I'm flat out saying it." Mrs. Reich blew her smoke out towards the interviewer's face. "Those layabouts were dead weight. If you bleeding hearts love em' so much, you employ them. No need to climb up my ass about it, you fuckin' weasly piece of shi-"

The screen cut back to a news anchor that held his face in a mix of confusion and suppressed laughter. "That was...Nancy Reich, VP at Downing Harrow, talking about the...recent layoffs. We apologize for the vulgarity. We're not on any kind of delay or anything."

Wendell burst out laughing. He wasn't sure how Stacy had managed to get into that interview, but it was a stroke of genius. He laid back over the sofa and looked into the ceiling. Truth be told, Wendell wasn't sure what exactly would happen to Mrs. Reich and her spoiled, bratty children for this outburst on live TV, but it surely wouldn't be good.

Stacy sure has a mouth on her. I used to hate it, but now it's a bit of a turn on. Oh yeah... where am I going to be when she gets back?

That brought the smile away from his face. He blew out a breath looking into the textured ceiling.

Do I really want be Stacy's... slave? Is that what you'd call it? It hasn't been bad so far, has it? I don't have to think, or worry, she takes care of it... I didn't even bother to go to class today and honestly I don't care. Last night, all my stress just melted away. I'll just wait for her on the bed. She won't be happy about me being untied, but she'll sort it out.

Wendell rolled his head over and he perked up at the television. It was a mug shot of the bearded man that had originally sold him the raygun. The new anchor's voice came into Wendell's focus.

"-found dead in his Sommerland home last night with 3 gunshot wounds. The latest in a string of such shootings-"

Shit...this can't just be a coincidence, right? Punishment can wait, Stacy and I need to talk.