Chapter 6: Dumpy Little Shitshack
What a shithole, Angie thought, reaching for the door to her new home. Her mom’s place was even more of a dump over here. Everything else had been backwards, so why didn’t her mom have a downtown penthouse apartment here, like her dad over there. She found the door locked as she tried the knob. Fucking great. The key was useless, of course. Her mom kept a spare in a coded lockbox around the back, so chances were… yes, there was the box. She punched in the combination, the only reason she actually remembered her mother’s birthday, and nothing happened.
She rekeyed the combination in reverse. Backwards? Nothing. She tried her own, forward, and then reverse. Click. She grinned. Mom actually liked her over here, she guessed. She lifted the key from the box and let herself inside. Yeah, it was a dump, as expected. Back home, her dad left her mom with basically nothing, since he could afford the kind of lawyers she could only dream of. Over here, it looked like things had turned out the same way. The place was a study in spartan decoration, practically empty but for the basic necessities. There were a lot of photos of her on the wall, though, which she found interesting.
For the first time, she really got a look at her pansy twin in her thick glasses and dyke-bun. Chess club? Book club? Debate team? Fucking 1st place science fair? She wasn’t just a nerd. She was the queen of the nerds. Thank god her graduation was basically a formality at this point. She’d just need to find a way to cheat her finals, and it would be all good. At least she was a super-brain over here, so no one would suspect her of cheating.
Moving past the wall of photos, she poked around the rest of the place, familiarizing herself with each room. It wasn’t much. The house itself she knew well enough, just like her own mom’s. She stopped and looked at the pile of mail, reading the name. Dale Eller. Aw, shit. This was her dad's place, and he was a broke fuck. That explained why she didn’t have a car, and rode the fucking twinkie to school. If dad was broke, though, did that mean that mom was a rich bitch? She’d always known how to work her sweet mother to get her way. Her dad, though, was kind of a cunt. If she was going to have to spend her life here like one of the poor kids, maybe this wasn’t such a sweet deal after all. But then, her dad was threatening to cut her off after high school anyway, so whichever world she was in, she was going to be broke. At least over here she had opportunities, thanks to her nerd-self’s hard work.
In her own room, she found more nerd shit, and when she checked the closet she actually felt like she might vomit.
She clenched the red stone in her fist in disgust and said, “What the fuck do you wear?”
There was a brief moment where she thought that she could actually feel the other her, like sharing the same space. She paused, and held the stone up to the light. It was dark, like someone had pulled a shade over it. It still caught the light, but not in the same way it had. Odd. She returned it to her neck and started to pull the clothes out of the closet and lay them on the bed. If she accomplished nothing else today, she was not going to wear this dumpy shit. She couldn’t seduce a fucking priest in these things.
Once her horrendous wardrobe was laid out in front of her, she noted a small stack of mail on the pillow. She picked up the mail and went through it. Two of the letters were scholarship offers from colleges. Not a bad start. The third was a package addressed from her mother. That provided a valuable clue. She now knew where her mom lived. The contents of the package were more valuable, still. Inside, she found a white box with the logo of an apple on it, and a picture of a phone. What the fuck is an Apple? She wondered, set it aside, and opened the accompanying card.
“Angela, Happy graduation. Call me some time, if you feel like it. -Mom.”
The envelope contained $1,000 in cash. That answered another question. Her mom had, at least, some means. This was great! Now, she had a tool to learn about this upside down world, as well as some cash to burn on some new clothes. While she wouldn’t be doing her shopping at K-Mart, where they sold the good designer stuff, anything would be better than the gnarly rags that were spread out on the bed.
She took one of the bills and examined it. The face of the president on it was familiar. Everyone knew Old Benjamin. The denomination was different, though. Shit, Ben would only land you a buck where she was from. Over here, he was the big man. She took the old bills from her wallet, now useless, and stuffed them into the bottom of her purse. Next, she unwrapped the phone and booted it up.
“iPhone.” she mused, as the little logo lit up the screen. It looked just like her WozPad, which was also useless over here, she’d quickly learned. After completing the setup steps she opened a browser and looked up the news, just to get a feel for the wider world. She clicked a headline reading, “Florida Man Has Vintage Hotwheel Set Removed from Rectum,” just for the laughs.
Halfway down the page, she spotted an ad that was like nothing she’d ever seen. They actually advertised sex toys on the internet? The Internet Act for Global Purity banned anything like this where she was from. Hell, you couldn’t even access a porn site without your Adult Material License Number. She clicked, and was amazed. Porn. So much porn, and no license number required. Shit! The amount of pure perversion immediately at her fingertips was unreal! Evidently, anyone could make porn and put it out there, and even make money from it. You didn’t even need to be licensed and approved by the Adult Material Board. She quickly swept all the clothes off of the bed and began to learn.
Chapter 7: Big Brad
Angela resisted the temptation to hug her mother goodbye, feeling that it was not something that Angie would do. Instead she stalked out of the house like a princess and got into the waiting car her father had sent.
“Hey, Ang.” The driver greeted her, looking through the rearview mirror.
“Hey.” She said back, and then promptly ignored him and stared out the window.
The car pulled away, driving on the wrong side of the street. The backwards fact hardly even registered. A few minutes into the drive, she caught the driver casting quick glances at her in the mirror. It happened several times before she finally grew curious enough to ask, “What?”
The driver grinned and said, “Why don’t you come up front and give old Brad some of that fine road head? Unless you want your dad to find out about those two thugs you snuck into the penthouse last week. You’re already on pretty shaky ground, from what I hear. We wouldn’t want Princess to get kicked out of the castle, now, would we?”
Angela kept her face composed, but a sudden wave of panic shot through her. Shit! Angie really was a slut! Up until now, the choices had been pretty simple things. Acting bitchy, she could do. Being a petulant, entitled princess, ok. Wearing revealing clothes, yeah, it was workable. Sucking some strange guy’s dick? How badly did she want to go home? She thought about her dad, her real dad. He was stuck with Angie. His life was tough enough as it was. Did she really need to stick him with that, as well? He didn’t deserve it. She swallowed. What would Angie do?
“Fine.” She said, rolling her eyes, and climbed over the console into the passenger seat, “Don’t cum in my fucking mouth, though.”
Brad grinned happily and pulled off into a nearby parking lot. He stopped the car near the back of the lot and shifted the seat back to give her more room. Angela’s heart pounded in her chest. She’d never even kissed a boy, let alone had a penis in her mouth. She knew the basic principle, of course. You don’t go through high school without getting a basic education in oral sex, just from listening to the cheerleaders talk at lunch. The actual method of it, though, had not been high on her list of things to achieve.
“Lose the shirt, slut.” Brad said, “I want to feel those sexy tits while you suck me.”
Angela almost blanched. Instead, she peeled off her top and showed a man her big breasts for the first time.
“Judas, but those are nice. I never get tired of that.”
With no ceremony whatsoever, Brad leaned over and palmed one of her breasts, latching his lips around her nipple and sucking. Angela inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to punch him in the face. She let him have his way. The sensation wasn’t a bad one, she decided, but it was still gross having this slimy stranger sucking on her boob. After a few moments, Brad pulled his mouth off of her and guided her head toward his crotch. Angela fought back tears as she allowed the man to pull her head down.
With trembling fingers, she reached for his pants and unzipped them. Brad assisted her by reaching into his trousers and pulling his hardening penis free, inches from her face. Angela’s first thought on seeing it was to wonder if they were all this big? Her next was that there was no way it was all going to fit in her mouth.
“Go on, baby.” Brad encouraged her.
Angela stuck out her tongue and gave the pulsing stalk of flesh a tentative lick, bringing a sigh of pleasure from Brad.
“Yeah. I missed that shit.” The man said, his hand still resting on the back of her head.
Angela gulped, then opened her mouth and stretched her lips over the head of his penis, feeling the spongy crown with her tongue as she took it into her mouth. Brad groaned with delight. Angela tried to think clinically about what she was doing. While she didn’t have first-hand familiarity with a penis, she did have a conceptual knowledge of its workings and parts.
What her lips were wrapped around was the glans, the sensitive head. She felt the soft underside of it with her tongue, and that seemed to please Brad. That was good. More pleasure meant that this would be over faster. She worked her tongue in the same way, while using her lips to massage his glans. While he seemed to enjoy it, he wanted more. His hand on her head became more insistent, pushing her further down his shaft. She let her lips glide down his cock, until she felt his head bump against the back of her throat. Brad relented, his grip easing.
“Fuck yeah.” He breathed, “That’s it slut. Suck it.”
Angela pulled back, and then repeated the motion using her tongue to caress the veiny underside of his penis. Brad’s hand left her head, and then she felt it on one of her breasts, palming it, groping it, pinching her nipple. Despite the rough treatment, she began to feel a sense of accomplishment, as well as a familiar feeling of arousal from between her legs. She was doing a good job! Brad’s manipulation of her breasts seemed to trigger some primal urge in her brain, and she found herself bobbing her head up and down with more enthusiasm.
“Fuck… your tits are so perfect.” Brad moaned, “You’re such a good cocksucker, Ang.”
Encouraged, Angela worked his wet shaft in and out of her mouth, feeling the way that it occasionally jerked or jumped in her mouth as one sensation or another gave Brad pleasure. She made an experiment of it, taking mental notes about which technique seemed to elicit the best response from his cock, or made his groping of her tits more intense. If she was going to have to become Angie, then this was likely not the last time she’d have to do this for someone. The better she became at it, the faster she could get herself out of the situation next time.
Brad’s hand returned to the back of her head and began to “encourage” her with a fist wrapped in her hair. Rather than letting her go at her own pace, he was now essentially using her face to jerk off with, making Angela sputter and gag just to keep up. Despite making pitiful noises to indicate her displeasure, he did not relent. If anything, the sounds she made in protest seemed to spur him on. Finally, he held her head down and Angela felt his penis jerk in her mouth. She made one last squeak of protest before hot bursts of semen erupted into her mouth. His legs shaking, Brad groaned in pleasure and emptied his balls into her.
Angela fought back the urge to throw up. Angie wouldn’t puke. Angie would swallow and ask for more, she thought. She swallowed, gulping down the shots of sperm like it was candy. The taste of it was anything but. Once she’d managed to take it all, and she felt Brad’s cock softening in her mouth, he finally released her. She pulled away and sucked in air, choked for several seconds, and then fixed him with an angry look.
“Asshole! I told you not to do it in my mouth!” She said, and slapped him.
Brad just laughed off the girly slap and said, “Sorry, Princess. Couldn’t help myself. Promise I’ll pull out next time.”
Next time? Fuck! Angela sunk back into the seat and said, “Can we go home now?”
Brad nodded, then added, “Keep your tits out until we get home.”
Angela did not reply. Brad tucked his wet penis away, corrected his seat, and drove out of the parking lot. Angela tried not to cry as he groped her tits openly the whole way home. Her one consolation came in the form of a brief waver in her vision, less than a second. Home. She was closer.
Chapter 8: Fucking Porn Star!
After frigging herself to half a dozen orgasms while watching the infinite variety of porn on her new phone, Angie used the device to look up some stores nearby. Upon reviewing a few websites, she knew that $1,000 was not a lot of money. She’d need to spend wisely in order to get all the things she needed for her new career. She reviewed the footage she’d taken of herself masturbating. The camera was adequate to get her started, but she’d need better lighting, sexier clothes, some lingerie, sex toys. She couldn’t believe the amount of money a girl who was willing to fuck on camera could make around here! The fact that prostitution was illegal in most places, but basically anyone was allowed to get fucked on camera and sell it was sort of mind-boggling, but whatever.
Being a Just4Fans girl would beat the cash she was used to getting for blowjobs down on 3rd Street, and when you threw in Reddit, Instagram, TikTok, PornHub, and all these other whacked out platforms they had over here, she could practically write her own ticket to infamy and fortune. People would eat up the nerd girl gone bad image she was already concocting. She could just imagine episode after episode of her “transformation” from science fair-winning dweeb to porn princess, and all the dollars she’d rake in!
She set off from the house, wanting to be out before her new dad got home, whenever that might be. It was pushing 6:00 and she hadn’t seen any sign of him. Not that she was all that eager to meet him. He seemed like a cunt of a different kind over here.
Not too far of a walk from her house lay a downtown mall with several small shops and a couple of department stores. She’d debated shoplifting a few things to save her cash, but figured it was a bad idea. For all she knew, they might chop off people’s hands for stealing in this land of savages and perverts. They could probably post it online and make bank, if the footage of some of their perverse practices was any indication. Heavy-R was something she’d never look at again, and it would haunt her dreams until she died.
Shopping the clearance racks made Angie feel like a peasant, but she had to remind herself that starting her own business was something that required sacrifice in the beginning. She did splurge on one item at a place called Frederick’s of Hollywood, which was a dead ringer for Cedric’s of Bollywood back home, and picked up a too-sexy set with a thong and push-up bra. In her mind, she was already filming herself fucking a dildo, and the bra would just make her tits look so amazing!
Loaded with a couple of bags, she set off back to the shitshack to start working on the next phase. As the house came into view, she noted the presence of a rust bucket in the driveway, which she assumed belonged to her loser father. Great. Hopefully he didn’t ask her a bunch of nerd shit that she wouldn’t know how to answer, like who her favorite Klingon from Star Wars was or something. She’d have to kick this shit into high gear, so she could get him the fuck out of her life ASAP.
While she’d rather have avoided him altogether, her path up to her room forced her through the living room, where Dale sat on the couch reading. He looked up at her, perplexed, as she entered.
“Hey, hon.” He said, “You look… nice. Where’s your glasses?”
Fuck. It was the little details, Angie thought.
“I just figured it was time to dress a little more like an adult, you know, since graduation is coming. I’m just trying something different.”
He nodded but did not seem altogether convinced.
“Hey. I got a couple scholarship letters today.” She said, changing the topic, “Maybe you can look at them and let me know what you think?”
“I thought you’d already decided on the applied sciences offer from Alpine.”
She shrugged, again cursing her lack of knowledge, but said, “Just want to make sure I’m making the right choice.”
“Sure.” he said, nodding, then, “What’s in the bags?”
“Just some clothes. Mom sent me a little money for graduation. Not much, but like I said, I just want to try something new.”
That he did smile at, adding, “I always told you that you shouldn’t keep all that beauty hidden, honey. I’m glad to see you trying something different.”
“Night, dad.” She said, and then decided that Angela was probably such a softie that she’d give him a daughterly peck, so she planted a kiss on his forehead.
As she did it, the world around her shimmered, like a haze in the heat. The effect was so quick, though, that she might have imagined it. For just an instant it seemed, though, that she was back in her mom’s version of the shitshack. Then it was gone. She masked the perplexed feeling and hurried up the steps. What the hell?
Chapter 9: Line of Communication
Angela rode the elevator up to her father’s penthouse apartment with Brad, the residual taste of his semen still in her mouth. She trailed just behind him, letting him lead since she had no idea which apartment she was supposed to go to. Finally he stopped at a door and looked at her expectantly.
“I lost my purse.” She said, thinking quickly. “No keys. No phone. You remember that you had to pick me up, right?”
Brad sighed and nodded, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. Angela breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she’d stowed the purse in her backpack. The penthouse was a spacious bi-level that overlooked the towers of downtown. Two massive bookshelves lined one wall near the big windows. Further back was a kitchen with a big island, while off to her left a spiral staircase wound upward to the bedrooms. The whole place was very neat and spotless. No past due bills here, she thought with just a twinge of envy.
Angela rounded on Brad and said petulantly, “Is there anything else? Do you need to jizz down my throat again before you leave?”
“If you’re offering... “ he said.
“Goodbye.” She shot back, her hands on her hips.
Brad rolled his eyes and smiled, then left. Angela wandered the apartment, getting a feel for the layout, then found Angie’s room and dropped her backpack on the bed. Angie seemed to have it all. Her closet was bursting with all kinds of designer clothes, most of which were unfamiliar, but she could see the quality. A big flatscreen TV hung on one wall. The bed was a big four-poster canopy perfect for a little princess. Angela explored the drawers and vanity, discovering numerous tiny panties, sexy bras, and all kinds of jewelry.
The jewelry brought a thought to mind, and she quickly rooted through her backpack until she came up with the pendant. She held it up to her eyes and gazed through it. Yes, just like before, she could see the view of the other side. Angie must still have hers around her neck. She saw her own room, but what caught her attention was what Angie was doing on her phone. Where had she gotten a phone that worked over there? Her dad certainly couldn’t afford to get her an iPhone.
Where she’d obtained the device, though, was not nearly the biggest question on her mind as she saw what Angie was using it for. Her doppelganger was filling out an online form for a porn site called Just4Fans! The user name read “Not-eNerd” and there was a photo of herself as she usually dressed. Angela snatched her glasses from the backpack, and now she could read the tiny text in the profile.
“End of high school and time to live a little. Join me on my journey of sexual discovery, and watch the live transformation of a good girl into a total nympho fuckpuppet!”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Angela cried.
She could see Angie stop what she was doing, and then Angela heard her own voice in her head.
Angela sat up straight. Had Angie heard her? Had she just heard Angie?
“Hello?” Angela answered back.
There was a pause, then the voice in her head, wicked and cruel, “Oh my fucking God! You can hear me?”
“It’s like a fucking dream, isn’t it?” Angie asked.
“No! It’s a nightmare! I know how to switch us back.” Angela replied, hopeful. She could just tell Angie how to be like her, and this would all be over faster.
“Back? I’m not going back. I thought you were supposed to be some kind of super brain.”
Cold dread knotted her stomach.
“But… don’t you want to come home?” Angela asked.
“Are you crazy? This place is great! Thanks for helping me graduate, by the way. You really had a lot of opportunities. I’m not going to be taking advantage of them, but it’s nice to have some options. More than you’re gonna have.”
Angela felt hot tears in her eyes as she replied, “But it’s not right! That’s my life!”
“Not anymore, stupid. Now, you get my shit dad. He’ll probably kick you out after school’s out, so have fun turning tricks down on 3rd to make ends meet. I’m not a total bitch, so here’s a tip. You may want to avoid the Snake twins. They pay well, but they’re super into double anal, and they like to video that shit and sell it. Now, if you don’t mind, I'm kinda busy setting up your new career over here.”
“You can’t do that!” Angela cried.
Angie’s evil laughter erupted in her brain, and then she said, “Sure I can! Your mom sent me some seed money for graduation, and I’m putting it to good use. Don’t worry. I’ll keep the line open from time to time, so you can have a front-row seat. You’re going to make a great porn princess! I’ve seen the kind of weird shit that you guys have online over here and, trust me, people are going to go nuts over watching miss first place science fair become first place fuckdoll. Tata!”
She watched Angie remove the pendant, and stuff it out of sight, breaking the communication. Judas Christ, was she going to have to work fast, now! The longer she stayed here, the more Angie was going to wreck her entire life. If she didn’t manage to get back soon, what was she going to have left to go back to?
Angela resumed her inspection of the room with a newfound sense of determination. She had to learn everything she could about how to become Angie. Unfortunately, Angie wasn’t one to keep a diary of her horrendous exploits. She did have a computer, though. It took a couple of tries to get the password, but when she thought like a dumb, bitchy, slut version of herself, she came up with the right one. Fuckdoll. God, Angie really was a perverted bitch.
For the next two hours she went through Angie’s emails, her browser history, and the files on her computer. In most ways, Angie was her complete opposite, but they did share some similarities. One gross example was a spreadsheet, where Angie tracked her income from hooking. The sheet had names, locations, amounts she’d been paid and for what “service”. Angela felt sick just looking at it, but it was valuable nonetheless. Angie had regulars that she met with, and her activities made more money than Angela had ever seen in one place. Where did she keep it? She wondered, but that thought was secondary.
The idea that she was going to have to become, not only a complete bitch, but also a prostitute made her have second thoughts about ever going home. Could she actually bring herself to do this? Then, she imagined what her dad would feel, when he learned that Angie was rewriting her life, destroying all of her accomplishments, and turning her into some kind of porn star. He was already a broken man. Having to go through all of that might actually put him under. She couldn’t let it happen.
A distracting rumble from her stomach signaled that she’d been neglecting to eat anything today. If she was going to pull this off, she’d certainly need to keep up her energy. Angela made her way down to the kitchen, where she was greeted by Angie’s father, standing by the island reading over a stack of papers.
“Angie.” He said brusquely.
“Hey, dad. I’m hungry.”
“You know where the pantry is.” He replied, without looking up.
She didn’t, but supposed it wouldn’t be too difficult.
“Why were you at your mother’s?” He asked, “And where’s your car?”
Angela thought quickly, replying, “I lost my purse. No phone. No keys. No money. I took the bus to mom’s after school and called you.”
He grunted, accepting the answer, and did not seem surprised. Angela felt certain that this was not the first time something like this had happened. Dale set the papers down on the island and fished out his wallet. He handed her a black credit card.
“It has a $500 limit.” He said, “And I’d better not see any charges from Cedrics or K-Mart on this one. Get yourself a new phone at the Horizon on 6th. They’ll be able to switch the old line to the new one. I’ll have Brad drive you in the morning, and he can get a locksmith out to get a new key for the car.”
She nodded and resisted the urge to thank him. Oddly enough, he was unphased and hugged her. Even though it wasn’t her real dad, Angela nearly broke down and cried into his chest. She didn’t want to feel alone here, contemplating the horrible things she was about to do in order to get the real Dale back. Alone she was, though. No one else could know. No one else could help. It was all up to her.
Chapter 10: Altering Angela
Angie’s bed was the most comfortable thing Angela could remember sleeping in. She’d nearly fallen asleep reading through Angie’s email, and going back through years of social media history to get an idea of her interests, the way she talked, where she’d been. The experience was one mindfuck after another. At one point, she’d pondered the philosophical debate of nature vs. nurture, and thought about how much Galton would relish an opportunity to study this. For all she knew, Galton had been a pendant victim himself, and that had led to him coining the term.
She’d put an end to the thought, though, when she told herself that this was certainly not something that Angie would care about. She had to learn to dismiss her own scientific urges if she was going to pull this off. It was time to start thinking like an uppity, homewrecking, slutty, and stupid cunt at every waking moment. What would Angie do would become her one and only question. In most cases, the answer was bitch, and/or fuck. Easy.
Even though Angie’s clothes were the total opposite of what she’d have chosen, she could not deny a small thrill at the sheer number of choices she had to pick from, and all of them purchased new. No Goodwill for Angie. Angela decided against a bra, donning a cropped blue and white top that stretched enticingly over her big tits, through which her nipples were clearly visible. She’d considered whether Angie would have gone sans-panties, but then decided it would probably be more like her to wear them, and then end up selling her jizz-covered panties to someone after she’d let them jerk off onto her crotch.
She met Brad in the lobby of the apartment complex.
“Ready, Princess?” Brad asked.
She followed Brad to the waiting car, where she took the passenger seat. Brad looked at her curiously as he got in on his side.
“So, Brad,” She began, “I was thinking. Do you really have to take me to school?”
“Daddy’s commands are my job,” he said.
“What’s the point? It’s not like a few more days are going to make a difference. I mean, I’m gonna graduate, but cheating on a few more tests isn’t likely to improve my education. Why don’t you just drop me at the Horizon store on 6th, and then go take care of the car. You can pick me up after.”
Brad shook his head and said, “No can do, Princess. I’d be in some shit if your dad found out.”
“If he finds out, just tell him you did your job and dropped me off. It’s not your fault that I skipped school afterwards. It’s not your job to follow me around and make sure I go to class, right?” Angela argued.
“Why would I do that?” Brad asked, starting the car.
“Because I’ll suck you off on the way to school.”
“You’ll do that anyway, unless you want me to tell him about the incident. Two black guys in his penthouse? Can you just imagine the load of shit you’d be in?”
Angela reached into his lap and began to fondle his cock through his pants.
“Well, how about when you pick me up later, I let you fuck me for the rest of the day?”
Brad’s cock jumped in her hand.
“You serious?” he asked.
“I’m not giving it up in the back seat, but if you get a room, yeah. What do you say? All you have to do is drop me off, cover for me,” she leaned in seductively, making her cleavage even more enticing, and whispered hotly in his ear, “and then you can spend the whole rest of the day shoving your cock in me as hard as you want.”
She unzipped his pants and reached in, fingering his dick.
“I think I can make that happen.” Brad agreed, grinning.
Angela pulled his penis free of his pants and leaned over it, wincing inwardly. This was the path home. Resigned, she put her lips around his cockhead.
“Oh, fuck… “Brad groaned, and added, “I can’t pull out real well if I’m driving.”
Angela pulled his cock from her mouth and said, “I was just in a bad mood yesterday. You don’t have to pull out. Now, or later.”
She resumed her task, fondling Brad’s balls through his pants as she worked her mouth over his stiff stalk. Imagining what he would do to the girl later, Brad did not last long. True to her word, Angela gulped and swallowed his cum before tucking his sated penis away. She adjusted her top, licking her lips clean as she sat back in the seat. Even as she thought that sucking him off wasn’t so bad this time, and even a little exciting, the world around her shimmered for that brief instant. She’d made the right choice. One step closer.
On 6th Street, Brad stopped the car and let her out, then drove off to take care of her vehicle. It felt very strange to be out in town on a school day. Angela had never missed a day of school in her life. Even on days when she’d been sick, she’d managed to get her homework and do something to further her academic pursuits. Then again, the whole point now was to do everything the opposite of what she’d always done. She was a slutty ultra-bitch until she was back where she belonged.
She found the phone store easily enough. A red logo reading “Horizon” was close enough to her own. She waited outside the door the 15 minutes until the place opened. The salesman was very attentive as he ogled her tits, easily locating her account with her father’s name.
“It looks like you had insurance for theft, so I’ll activate the line with a new one. You want the same phone?” He asked.
“Is there anything better? That one was getting boring.” She replied.
“We have the WozPad 14+ now.”
The salesman retrieved one from the stockroom and spent the next 30 minutes initializing it and transferring the old line to the new. While she waited, Angela had time to let her fears creep back into her head. She’d never had sex, and now she was suddenly going to have to fuck her way back home. How many dicks was she going to have to suck? How many men would she have to give her body to? What amount of total depravity was going to be enough for the pendant to decide that she was Angie enough to get back? It wasn’t like there was some visible meter of slutdom filling up that she could watch.
After sucking off Brad this morning, she was sure that the shift back to her own existence had been longer, but if she hadn’t been so adept at keeping measurements, she wouldn’t have even noticed the difference. The shifts so far had lasted less than a second. In order to get home, they’d have to last long enough for her to actually be present, and then have time to destroy the stone while she was still where she belonged. That would mean she’d need several seconds at the very least. Then, how easy was the stone to break? Could she throw it on the ground and shatter it? Would she need to hammer the thing to break it? Did something like this require the fires of Mt. Doom to destroy? Unfortunately, there were no practice runs in something like this.
The salesman handed her the new WozPad, a name which made her chuckle inside. She could just imagine what Jobs would have thought about his old partner being the one on top of things. She took the phone, without so much as a thank you. Using the selfie cam, she snapped a picture of her generous cleavage, then posted it to her “The Facebook” account with a string of little drooling emojis. The previous evening, she’d learned that Angie was very much into posting photos of herself being a cocktease.
Angela left the store and crossed the street to a coffee shop, where she ordered a latte with DupliDale's card, complained about the way it was made, and then rudely accepted the second one. She did not tip the barista. The world shimmered as she took a seat and tapped at the phone. Still less than a second.
The phone chimed with “sync complete” and a sudden flurry of message notifications flooded the screen. Angie was very popular. Angie was also a very busy whore, in the most literal sense. She had 20 different messages from the previous day, and 2 from this morning, all clients that she recognized from Angie’s spreadsheet. She copy-pasted a message to all of them that she’d lost her phone and just gotten it back. If they were still interested, she wrote, message again.
One reply was almost instantaneous, from a man named Arnold. Angela pulled up her mentally saved copy of the sheet, accessed Arnold, and realized that it was fairly close. He had an apartment over on 3rd. She messaged back that she’d be over soon. Angela finished most of her latte, “accidentally” spilled the rest on the table, and left it for someone else to clean up. Before leaving, she made a stop in the restroom, used the entire roll of paper, and made sure that the toilet was clogged and overflowed, just for good measure. She was rewarded with a familiar shimmer as she pushed open the door to the coffee shop.
The walk to Arnold’s apartment was a short one. She took the elevator up to his floor, located the apartment number from the sheet, and knocked. A moment later, a black man around her father’s age answered.
“Hey, baby! Come on in here.” He said happily.
Angela took a breath and stepped inside, her insides knotted with fear. This was her 3rd sexual experience, but it felt different. Brad, while a stranger, was still an employee of her faux father. There had been some degree of safety in that. This guy was a total unknown. She knew from the sheet that Arnold never wanted anything more than blowjobs, but Angie had labeled the “service” provided as “rough face-fucking”. No further details had been supplied.
“Damn, you lookin’ cute today, bitch. How about we get right to this shit?” Arnold said, “My dick’s been achin’ for this since the last time. Swear to Judas, you got me hooked on that sweet fuckin’ mouth. You’ gonna break my bank, but it’s worth it.”
“I love to suck it.” Angela said, as sultry as she could manage.
“Yeah, I know you bitches do love that big black dick. Bet you sorry daddy aint into fuckin’ white pussy, ain’t you?”
Angela nodded her head, not sorry in the least. Arnold threw a pillow on the floor in front of her, and then handed her $100. She stuffed the bill into her purse, set it beside her on the floor and knelt.
“Will you do something for me?” Angela asked.
“What you need baby?”
She offered him her phone and asked, “Will you record it this time, so I can finger my pussy to it later?”
Arnold laughed and said, “Yeah, girl. I can do that. You know, I do love that about you. You’re a kinky bitch. I better not see that shit online, though. I ain’t got no license to make porn.”
“It’s just for me.” Angela assured him.
Viewing Angie’s personal files had proved a wealth of sexual education. Her other self was very… photogenic. Watching the numerous videos of herself being utterly demeaned, degraded, and used had been a surreal experience. To this point, Angie’s sluttish activities had been some distant thing that Angela was aware of but hadn’t had much experience with outside of blowing Brad. Now, here she was, just like in Angie’s videos. Based on what she’d seen, though, this was the easy part. Angie was a true amateur porno queen, taking on 3, 4, or more guys at a time in some of her more outlandish recordings. Angela was not looking forward to that experience.
Arnold began his recording, focusing the camera down on the kneeling teen.
“Tell daddy what you want, baby.” He said smoothly.
Angela looked up at the camera and said, “I want to suck your big black cock, daddy.”
“Go on ‘n pull it out, then.”
Angela shakily reached for the man’s shorts and undid them, letting them fall to the floor. She did her best to hide the terror that she felt at the sight of the enormous bulge in Arnold’s tight boxer briefs. Hooking her fingers into the waistband, she pulled them down his legs. His cock sprang free, slapping against her cheek as she peeled the briefs down. He stepped out of them. Angela wrapped her hand around the thick black staff and gave it a few experimental pumps, feeling it grow beneath her fingers.
What the fuck? She thought. Brad had been big, but this was at least a couple of inches longer, and thicker. She prayed that Angie wasn’t a pro at putting the entire thing down her throat. Two reluctant blowjobs had not prepared her to get 9 inches of meat stuffed into her mouth!
“That’s what you like, ain’t it baby?”
“Uh huh.” Angela said, entranced by the big, hot tool.
“Open up for daddy, now girl.”
Angela opened her mouth, and Arnold pushed the fat head of his cock between her lips, stretching them wide. She panicked as the big shaft slipped further into her mouth, splitting her jaw open. There seemed to be no end to it as Arnold put his hand on her head and pushed inch after inch into her, until his pulsing crown touched the back of her throat, making her gag.
Arnold laughed and held his penis still, saying, “Good girl. That’s just what I like.”
Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she relaxed her throat and breathed through her nose. She turned her eyes up toward the man and looked into the camera lens.
“Now that is so sexy. Just look at that little white mouth all cute and stretched around that dick. Bet you’d love to see how that shit would feel openin’ up that little pussy, huh?”
“Mmm hmm.” Angela attempted to reply.
“Sorry baby. You gonna have to keep dreamin’. I only let white bitches suck it.”
Arnold pulled his cock back a few inches, and then worked it back in. He began to pump his hips in a slow rhythm, coating his big shaft with her saliva. The veiny ridges of his penis slipped back and forth across Angela’s tongue as she swallowed a froth of saliva that built up in her mouth, having nowhere else to go. Her lips were a tight seal around the cock, practically a vacuum.
“Fuck yeah.” Arnold growled, “Fuckin’ mouth on you, girl. Lemme see them pretty eyes. Just like that.”
Angela kept her eyes on him as well as she could, while Arnold’s pace began to quicken. His fingers twined into her hair, holding it in his fist. Angela’s eyes watered now as he began his assault on her face in earnest. His prick was like a piston, repeatedly forcing its way into her throat, making her gag and sputter, blowing spit bubbles out around the tight seal of her lips on each thrust inward. She placed her hands on his legs to support herself as the black man used her mouth.
“That’s it, slut. Hang on for the ride. Fuck I love how sweet your face looks stuffed full of that dick. Gonna have to get me a second job so I can get this shit every day! Damn, look at those little tears bitch!”
“Gak! Gak! Gak!” issued from Angela’s stuffed mouth. Arnold was making short, hard thrusts into her now, his dick barely leaving the entrance of her throat, seemingly determined to get the entire length into her, but it just wouldn’t go. She felt his cock lurching against her tongue, the end coming on fast. His cockhead seemed to expand to fill her entire mouth.
“Here it comes, baby. Swallow daddy’s cum. Here it comes!”
Angela braced herself, her head light, vision blurred by tears as Arnold made one last sharp thrust and then roared. His legs shook and then a torrent of hot jizz exploded from his cock straight down Angela’s throat. She worked and worked to swallow it, but there was just so damn much. The shots of cum began to pool in her mouth, too much to swallow at once. Arnold, still gripping her hair tightly, held his penis in her mouth as the flow of semen began to ebb. Angela gulped, gulped, gulped, and then finally she managed to choke the last of it down, feeling nauseated as the thick goo filled her stomach.
“Ah, shit!” Arnold said, sliding his dick from her mouth, “That was a big one. Hot damn.”
Angela sucked in air, feeling like she’d been denied breathing all day. She bent double and through her clouded vision saw drops of spit and cum drip from her gasping mouth onto the carpet. She coughed, sucked air, coughed again, and wiped at her eyes with her hand. A momentary feeling of triumph at having successfully sucked off her first client washed over her. For an instant, the world shimmered. The color of the carpet changed from brown to green, and then it was gone. She was closer. At what cost, though? She’d just whored her mouth out to a strange black man to pump his semen into. How much more of this could she handle?
Arnold, at last, removed his hand from her head. Angela looked up, face to face with his wet, half-hard penis, dripping with her phlegm. One thing was for sure. She was never going to buy jewelry again.
Outside of Arnold’s apartment, she rooted through her backpack, then stuffed two pieces of gum into her mouth. On some level, her mind registered that the aftertaste of Arnold’s cum was not as unpleasant as Brad’s had been, and she wondered how diet might affect the taste of semen. She forced that thought away. Angie wouldn’t care about that. Angie would just be happy to have a stomach full of cum and some extra money.
As she took the elevator down, fighting back tears, she forced herself to think of the latest shift. It had lasted a full second, she was sure. In the grand scheme, it was the longest one yet, so this whorish act had pushed her a long way. What did that mean? Was there some kind of grading system? Acting like a petulant bitch had gotten her closer, but in microseconds. Was that because Angie just was a petulant bitch all the time, so just existing that way was not really a change to herself? It wasn’t really becoming Angie? Or was she actually setting herself back each time she was even inwardly reluctant to be a bitch?
Angie wouldn’t be opposed to her own bitchiness. It was just who she was. She never felt bad about it or had regrets. Angela did have regrets. She did not want to be a cunt to people. The thought was disheartening. If even feeling like herself was enough to set her back, what hope did she have? She couldn’t be Angie in that sense. She wasn't a horrible person. At this point it was just a hypothesis. There was no concrete evidence to prove that was the case. She needed to measure it, somehow.
Angela checked her messages, replied to Angie’s next client, and did a mental check of the sheet. Angie confined a lot of her “activities” to the general area of downtown. It made sense. They were alike in that way. It was efficient. More opportunities to be a slut in a shorter period of time, maximizing revenue, while minimizing downtime. Angie was some sort of teenage slut-toy assembly line, taking one dick after another, fueled by jizz, churning out as many happy cocks as possible before quitting time. Damn it! If she hadn’t been such a goody-goody her whole life, would her other self have turned out to be such a blatant whore?
As she hurried along to her next meeting, she resolved to lighten up and live a little more after she got home. If for no other reason than one never knows when they might find themselves in an alternate reality, where being a super-slut was the only way home.