Doing Charlotte, day 2

Tuesday

I closely observed Charlotte as she came out of her room and staggered to the bathroom. Was there anything different? Was it too early?
From what Shadow had told me, it had taken Lena one afternoon to start turning. But of course she had had her lungs pumped full of smoke, and she had been a fucking bitch to start with.
Charlotte came back and sat down to breakfast. She eyed my cigarette.
“You are smoking up this house, mom,” she said. Boring.
“Well, thank you. And you, dear, did you sleep nicely?”
She blushed. “Sorry mom. It’s just that…”
“What, dear?”
“I had the weirdest dream, tonight, and woke up feeling strange.”
I leaned closer. “Want to talk about it?”
She shrugged, pouring milk on her cereals. “Nothing really. I was in a smoke filled room, there was a strange woman, smoking.”
I rubbed my thighs together. “And…?”
Charlotte shrugged again. “And nothing, but I woke up smelling like a smokestack.”
“I can’t smell anything.”
She made a face, munching on her cereals, and pointed at my pack of Newport Slims. “You burned out your sense of smell with those.”
I blew a long plume of smoke in her face.
“Mom!”
“Sorry, dear. I don’t know what was on my mind.”
She just shook her head disapprovingly.
“Where you smoking too?” I asked innocently.
“What?!”
“In your dream. With the strange woman. Where you sharing a cigarette?”
Charlotte blushed, and poured herself a glass of orange juice.
“I don’t remember,” she said.


As soon as Charlotte left, I got another call from Shadow.
“Well?” she said. “How did it go? Do tell!”
“Nothing,” I sighed, lighting up a magic cig.
“Nothing? What happened?”
I smiled at my blue hair and lips in the mirror. “I’m taking my time,” I explained. “I want to see the little cunt turn slowly, enjoy every minute of her descent into darkness.”
Shadow laughed evilly. “You are a fucked up bitch, Plenty.”
“On my best days… And talking about fucked up bitches, what about darling Lena?”
“Hmmm, she’s so full of energy, so eager to please!”
“You turned her already?”
“I’m having too much fun with her as she is,” she said.
“What were we saying, about fucked up bitches, eh?”
She laughed. “Don’t we all need a fucktoy to relieve our stress? Anyway, I’m calling because I’ll be out of office most of the day, and I think tomorrow, too. Why don’t you take two days off?”
This was good. “Are you sure about this?”
“Easy. I’ll be working out of office, no need for you to show up.”
“This is a wonder, thank you! Oh, and you, enjoy yourself!”
“Oh, babe, I will! Oh, and by the way…”
“What?”
“There’s something I forgot, the other day. Have you tried to smoke one of our cigarettes while chewing on one of the gums?”
This was new. “No. Should I?”
“You just try it one of these days, babe, and then let me know if you like it.”

#

In the afternoon, I went to the mall and in the privacy of the ladies lit up and morphed into my slutty self, hot in a black hobble skirt and black knitted top that left my huge cleavage exposed. Balancing on my five inches stilettos, blue to match my hair, lips and nails, I went on a shopping spree, all the while enjoying the attention of the men, and a lot of the women too.
I went for more clothes, a lot of sexy lingerie, and some new toys including a more advanced vibrating egg with a smartphone control. Which also meant getting a smartphone. I stopped at a piercing place to have my nose pierced and on second thought I had two more earrings added to my left ear. I also bought a selection of nose rings and studs, a handful of earrings, and some silver finger and toe rings. In an ethnic shop I found a nice silver and black enamel jewel box that was just right for my collection of trinkets.
Next, perfume. I tried a few, under the severe glare of a shopgirl, and finally fell for the very loud, vulgar rose, musk and patchouli mix of a brand called Lady Vengeance. I bought a whole selection of black bottles.
I was explorimg the racks of a nice little fetish place when I caught with the corner of my eye the shop assistant lingering by. I turned to her. “Well?” I asked.
She was a pretty petite thing in a black vinyl cheongsam, with a pixie haircut and wide dreamy eyes behind black-rimmed glasses. “I see you don’t need any help,” she said.
“You have a nice selection. Even for my size.”
I winked at her. She blushed. How sweet. “I just wanted to tell you… you are so beautiful,” she breathed. “And I really admire you.”
I smiled at her. “Well, thank you.”
She looked deliciously spaced out. I wondered on what she was tripping.
“There’s so much shaming going on,” she went on. “And seeing you so bold and proud… It’s just great, really.”
“You like the way I show off my stuff?”
“It’s a statement,” she said.
“It’s also pretty hot.”
Her smile widened. “That, too.”
I had found me a curvy girls lover. I ran my hands up my hips and over my belly, and then cupped my tits. “I won’t change this body for nothing in this world,” I told her. She was following my every move. “I was built for pleasure,” I cooed.
She smiled brightly. “Gorgeous.”
We were the only ones in the shop. Not that I gave a damn anyway. I pulled the door of one of the fitting closets open. “Want to take a ride?”
We stumbled inside and I grabbed her ass as she kissed my tits, my neck, my shoulders. I pushed her against the closet wall and she wrapped a leg around my waist, the other rubbing up and down my calf. She moaned softly as I slid a hand down her leg and started massaging her pussy. She squeezed my boobs as her tongue eagerly searched my mouth. I slipped two fingers inside her and she lost control completely, arching her back as she came. Then I let her slide down softly, and she knelt in front of me, unzipping my skirt. I took her glasses.
“We better take these off,” I whispered.
With a deep sigh, she buried her face into my shaved twat, using her tongue to fire me up like a firecracker. Afterwards, we just spent some time snogging and groping, enjoying the intimacy and the afterglow.
“What’s your name?” I whispered.
“It does not matter.”

#

I left the fetish shop with a big smile on my face and stopped by an icecream stall to buy me a large cherry milk shake. I had some fun standing by and making a show of sucking up the shake. My exhibitionist streak needed some after sex exercising. I finished the shake, winked at a guy that had been staring at me for the duration, his erection evident, and dropped the cup in a bin. Then, I went to a music and video store and got me a stack of CDs, good hard rocking stuff to put some life in that sad place I called my home.
“You don’t carry porn DVDs?” I asked the kid at the cash register. I was leaning on the counter, my oversize tits causing him some concentration problem. He was maybe twenty, the skateboarder type, and he was kind of cute in a stray cat sort of way. And I thought, why not?
“Out of date,” he said, finally looking at my face. “Today you can get all the porn you need online. Ever heard about Youporn?”
“I’m a little old fashioned,” I winked. “Maybe you should fill me up…” I gave him a big smile, “on the new tech? I really need my porn fix to sleep nicely.”
He stared at me, his eyes wandering back to my tits. I took a VERY deep breath.
“Gimme a sec,” he said.
It looked like this was going to be my lucky day.
He got a colleague to cover for him and brought me in the back of the store. There, stretched over DVD boxes, he fucked me with enthusiasm if not with much competence. I incited him on with low grunts and sticking my nails in his buttocks, pulling him in. Finally he struck a rhythm that allowed him to stoke my heat for five long, sweaty minutes, and we orgasmed with a low sigh. He collapsed over me, spent.
“You’re incredible,” he said.
We relaxed sharing a joint. His name was Neil.
I took a long drag on the spliff and handed it back to him. “You know what they say about fat girls, right?” I asked.
Neil grinned a big stoner grin. “No, what?”
“That we’re the best fuck.”
He sighed, patting my thigh. “Truth.”
I was feeling light-headed. I pushed my hand in his loose pants and caressed his prick and felt it stiffen.
“Do you want to fuck my tits?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, Christ…”
“Is that a yes?”
Neil was a much better fuck when stoned, faster to come up and lasting much longer. I massaged his tool with my boobs, up and down, building up his hard-on, and when he was about to come I twisted and bent and took him between my lips, sucking his cock with gusto, running my tongue along his shaft, squeezing his balls. He came in bursts, hot and salty, jerking so much he caused a pile of CDs to collapse. Afterwards, while I got my clothes in order, he was so grateful that he gave me another joint for the road, and a limited edition of the Molly Hatchett Greatest Hits. I gave him a peg on the cheek and was on my way, my head swimming with the weed and the sex.

#

“Hi, mom.”
Was Charlotte a little different? Or was it only the pot I had smoked while downloading, installing and testing the app to control my new vibrator?
“How was your day, darling?”
She shrugged. “The usual.”
She sat down on the couch and stretched her legs out. She started pushing the buttons on the remote, channel hopping furiously.
“Something wrong, dear?”
Charlotte huffed. “It’s only…”
I sat by her side. “What?”
“Sometimes it gets hard, listening to sob stories the whole day through, you know…”
Never before had she ever been negative about her work at the community center. I bit my tongue not to smile. “Bad days happen, dear.”
Oh, how nice and understanding I was. Charlotte just nodded and got up. She walked aimlessly around the room, and she stopped by the stereo.
“Molly Hatchett?” she asked with a grimace, picking up the CD.
Shit. Getting stoned made me sloppy.
“It was,” I improvised, “a charity sale. As I came home from the office. Veterans.”
“A charity sale of hard rock records?”
I stood and shrugged. “There was a lot of used stuff,” I said, smiling. “And I just wanted to help the cause, you see. I picked it because it had a colorful cover.”
She turned the box in her hands, staring at the musclebound barbarian hunk on the cover. “And then you listened to it?”
“Well, dear, I paid for it, right? Might as well give it a spin.”
She kissed me on the cheek. “My mom the metalhead!” she smiled, finding a bit of her usual cheerfulness.
I would make sure it would not last.

#

I watched closely as Charlotte showed signs of growing restlessness and frustration before and during dinner, and afterwards. She paced about the house, ate without tasting the food, and when she sat down she started channel hoppinga gain, tapping her foot frantically. There was a new, deep dissatisfaction in her, and I was enjoying the knowledge that I had put it there. Now it was just a question of making it grow, until it swallowed her up.
I tried to push her a little further by adopting a very bleak attitude, and by stressing the negative side of every topic she chose, and I was thrilled as she followed my lead and started expressing a pessimism that had never been her sort of thing. I pushed further, nudging her down a deep depressive slope, feeding her newfound nihilistic bend. Was her job really useful at all?, I asked. Or was it just a waste of time and public resources?
“It would be a pity,” I said, as I lit a cigarette, “wasting your best years taking care of the problems of people that actually enjoy those problems, don’t you think?”
“I don’t consider it a waste, mom,” she said, but she was not fully convinced herself.
“Of course, dear,” I smiled.
Charlotte was under a black cloud as she wished me a mumbled goodnight and retired to her room.
Once again I gave her one full hour to go down deep, and then took a long five minutes enjoying my magical cigarette. I stripped and slipped on a lace thong and a flimsy black nightgown that made me look like one of the brides of Dracula. I blew myself a kiss in the mirror, picked up cigarettes and lighter, and started on my mission.
In Charlotte’s room, her clothes were strewn on the floor, and she was sleeping on her back, with her hands in fists, sheets and covers bundled at the foot of her bed. She was wearing only her panties, and her perky boobs were flying free.
I grinned as I took again my role as the Nicotine Fairy, taking deep double drags and then blowing my second hand smoke in the girl’s face, timing my exhales with her inhales. She did not toss and turn, this time, and I got the impression that she actually breathed in more of the stuff.
Thinking about my Lady Dracula look, this really felt like being a vampire. A very slow, smoky vampire. After the second cigarette, I walked out of her room, sure that the next day would bring much fun.