The Favor

By DX

Copyrighted 12/03, 3/2025 All rights reserved.

Ryan wiped the sweat from his palms as he walked up the stone steps to the screen door. With a shaky hand he rang the bell and waited the eternal few seconds before the door opened. His breath caught in his throat as the image of beauty stood before him. Her hair of liquid jet spilled across her milky skin and her eyes filled with starlight sparked from beneath her mane.

 "Uh," Ryan found his voice. "I'm here to see Marco. He's expecting me."

 The woman said nothing.  The shimmering gold disk that locked her lips away made sure she remained silent. She only winked longingly at him, then lead the way. As she tuned, Ryan couldn't help but notice her battleship breasts, her tiny breath stealing waist, and her smackable derriere that peeked out from beneath her way too short skirt. Nothing was left to the imagination as she walked on her tiptoe high heels. Ryan had to adjust himself as they moved across the living room to the kitchen as his arousal was evident. It was not wise to look at Marco's wife with impure thoughts.

 Marco sat at the kitchen table, a paper napkin tucked into his shirt, and he smiled proudly as Ryan entered. "Ryan! My man! How you doin'?" He waved at the empty chair across from him. "Sit down! You remember my wife, Erin?" He motioned to the beautiful woman who had escorted him in. "You might not recognize her with her new Chasti-Permalocks. She was a little too promiscuous one time too many." He smiled. "Now she's more attentive to my needs." He snapped his fingers. "Where are my manners? Have you had any breakfast? Here, have a danish! Little John picked them up fresh this morning. Ah, so good!" He motioned to the behemoth standing behind him. "Little John, get Mr. Ryan a cuppa coffee ana danish!" He then motioned to the smaller man standing by the fridge. "Ryan, you remember Nick?"

 Ryan nodded nervously at the slight man with steely eyes who only picked his fingernails with a stiletto.

 Marco pulled the napkin from his neck and folded it neatly. "Ryan, I appreciate you coming over so early and on such short notice.”  His voice became serious.  “A few weeks ago you came to me and asked for a favor.”  He brightened.  “I have some good news for you." He snapped his fingers at Nick and the little man put his knife away and picked up the T.V. remote. "I think you'll be pleased." Marco settled back to watch the T.V..

 Blurry, eerie green images sharpened to clarity as the video camera's low-light warmed up. Shaky, moving images as the cameraman made his way clumsily through the bushes.  Ryan recognized his house (his old house), then watched as his car (his old car), wheeled into the driveway. He caught his breath as he watched his wife Megan (his ex-wife Megan) climb from behind the wheel. Her long legs flowed from beneath the skirt of her expensive dress.  Her platinum hair, lime green in the video, splayed in the gentle wind. Her eyes, the beautiful eyes that he first fell in love with, were unconcerned as she made her way up the walk, the click of her high heels the only sound in the video. She fumbled for her keys unaware of the hulking shadow silently that moved up behind her.

 "Danish?" Ryan nearly leapt from his chair as Little John slid the plate before him. Ryan nodded a weak thank you, then looked back at the screen just as Little John in the video, as quiet as a mouse, calmly and smoothly stepped up behind Meg and with one massive arm grabbed her, crushing her arms to her sides and lifting her into the air while the other hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her screams of alarm. As he hoisted her, head lights from a delivery van flared, blotting out the video for terse seconds as it made its way up the drive. The cameraman was moving, following Little John as the big man stepped into the opening door of the van. Nick was there, closing the door behind them. Fighting to keep balance in the now moving van, Nick peeled long strips of silver tape. The camera panned back to Meg's face. The hand from the cameraman, a woman's delicate hand, reached out to Meg's panicked face.  As Little John pried open Meg’s mouth, the camera operator shoved in a fat rubber ball in, wedging it tight with her thumb. She moved her thumb as Nick layered on the tape. Within moments, Meg was bound tight in yards of silver tape and silenced.

 The image flickered and the scene changed. It was color now. A lit warehouse. In the center of the room was a tall box with clear acrylic walls, beside that was a cement mixer chugging away. Little John's giant body blocked the view for a few seconds as he carried Meg in. Her muffled cries and protests were ignored as she was laid out on a table where Nick quickly strapped her down. That done, Nick donned surgical gloves.

 "Nick went to med school." Marco explained, motioning at the TV.

 "Veterinary." Nick clarified.

 Ryan was transfixed on the screen, his mouth agape, as Nick in the video pulled out his switch blade and cut away Meg's clothes. Marco's wife, Erin was on the screen now.  She balled up Meg's mane of hair and stuffed it into a bathing cap which she stretched over the struggling woman's head. She stepped away and was replaced by Little John who's massive hands clamped Meg's head to hold her steady.

 Nick took a swab and rubbed Meg's neck, covering her with antiseptic. He then coated his knife.

 Ryan held his breath as he watched Nick slowly insert the knife into Meg's throat, deftly cutting into her trachea.  Nick then inserted a stoma, re-routing Meg's breathing, and secured it with a band around her neck.

 "You'll notice she's quiet now." Marco narrated. "Her air is now redirected from her vocal cords. This will ensure an un-interrupted air way, and perfect silence. Not a whimper."

 Ryan watched the video as Nick then took a thin, plastic tube and inserted it into the stoma. "For feeding." Marco explained. 

 Once Nick was satisfied the tube was down into her stomach, he nodded, and Little John unstrapped Meg from the table.  He then lifted her up, and carried her to the box.

 Erin held the door to the box open as Little John lifted Meg up and stood her up on the concrete base of the box. Nick then took long rods of re-bar and set them into preset holes. Once secured, Meg was wedged tightly, standing in the box. Nick took a large tube and connected the stoma in her throat to a special hole in the clear, plastic door of the box.

 Meg desperately struggled against the steel rods and silver tape to no avail. Her eyes of anger and fear flashed hotly. Watching the video, Ryan felt the need to adjust himself again as her hot body clad in only a bra and panties writhed in desperation and frustration.

 Back in the video, Little John stood off to the side and took a letter from his pocket. He then fished out his reading glasses. "Dear Megan," the letter began. "You fuggin' bitch. I bet you thought you was so smart when your slick divorce lawyer took everything I owned, even my home.  Well, now the joke is on you. I give you this new house of concrete. You shall be entombed alive, buried in cement and dropped into the ocean. There you will be kept alive in the cold embrace of stone until the end of time. No one will rescue you. As we speak, your boyfriend is currently wearing a cement overcoat and holding up part of the new highway overpass. Enjoy your new home. Sincerely, Ryan."

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Corporate Downsizing
He was brought in as an efficiency expert.  His solution, fire everyone.  But he saw something in a beautiful, young protégé who was willing to do ANYTHING for him.  Perhaps she learned too well about downsizing.
Castration!  CBT! 
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Broken in the Attic

by DX

Copyrighted 1987, 2020, 1/2025, all rights reserved.

 She sighed, and leaned back in her chair. Her eyes slowly moved about the shadowed room before returning to the ledgers laid out on the desk before her. She looked at the calculator tape again and compared her findings as if she hadn't just compared them moments ago. Perhaps she had misplaced a decimal and the embezzled sum was not five hundred thousand, but only five thousand. Regardless of the sum, it was apparent that Mark Teller had been embezzling money. It was obvious that one hundred thousand had been misappropriated just two days ago.

 "I'll be leaving now, Miss Winters.” Came a voice suddenly out of the darkness. 

 Winters gasped and tossed back in her chair. She clutched her blouse and could feel her heart pound. 

 "I'm sorry, Miss Winters." Continued the voice from the darkness. "I didn't mean to startle you." A woman came from the shadows and leaned into the light.

 "Well Mrs. Rios..." Winters tried to set her heart back to normal "You gave me a start. I would have thought that everyone would be gone this late hour--I mean with the extended weekend and all."

 "My weekend will be beginning soon." The Latin woman looked over the ledgers. "Did you finally find something?"

 She nodded grimly. "I would say about five hundred thousand."

 "I am sorry to hear that."

 Winters looked up to Mrs Rios. In the shading of the light she seemed taller and darker, and her lips were full and black. Her cheeks still pouted of that remaining baby fat. She was indeed a very attractive woman. Miss Winters only happened to lower her gaze and notice the glint of steel beneath Mrs Rios' full breasts. Before she could think, the over head light sparked to life with a tiny electric hum. Her eyes squinted, trying to shield out the sudden light, but never left the gun pointed at her.

 "Good evening Miss Winters." Came a curt voice from the door." If you will step out slowly from behind the desk and lie down here on the floor." Mark Teller casually closed and locked the door behind him. From the deep pocket of his trench coat, he withdrew his .44 automag and stood there, pointing it to the floor and waiting.

 Winters slowly did as she was told, never taking her eyes off of Rios and her small pistol. 

 "I say we shoot her now!" Rios hissed. 

 Winters could feel her heart pound in her chest as she slid passed the file cabinets.  Sporadically her knees bent and she knelt to the floor. Rios suddenly snatched at her long hair and jerked it back. She put the gun to Winters' face. "We have to kill her now!"

 Trembling, Winters'  tried to plead to Teller, but fear robbed her voice. Teller calmly slid his gun back into his pocket. "We may have to if she does not cooperate." Teller looked to the young woman in a determined way. "But she will cooperate."

 Winters nodded her head as far as it would go and Rios slammed her to the floor. Teller stepped close to her and knelt beside her. "I would very much like to keep you alive, however, I have too much at stake to sacrifice if it comes down to letting you live. Do you understand me?" He spoke so calmly and simply that Winters had to comply.

 Rios kept her gun at the back of the young woman's head. Winters could feel the barrel press into her skull. Images flashed in her mind of the dark barrel exploding to light and ending her life. 

 She felt Teller take hold of her wrists. She was limp in his strong, quick grasp.

 Teller pulled a plastic tie from his other pocket, made a loop with it and encircled her wrists, back to back. With a tug, he cinched them tightly. Then a second tie brought her elbows together. 

 He was amazed at how flexible she was. 

 A third tightened around her ankles, while two more went quickly above and below her knees. He sat back on his knees and watched her lying there, afraid to move let alone fight her bonds.

 "Get into the safe and get the books." He ordered to Rios. As she left to complete her task, he began digging around in his pockets only to find that he was missing something. "You wouldn't happen to have a hair pin would you?" Winters was far to afraid to answer so he stood up and walked over to the desk.

 Winters turned her head far enough to watch him as he opened the drawer and began to go through it. She began to feel tiny needles in her hands and feet as their circulation began to wane.

 She couldn't move, she didn't try. "Please...." She began to plead. "Let me go.." 

 He looked at her there on the floor with her small breasts pushed into the rug by the straining positions of her arms. Her long black hair was draped over her face.

 He stepped back over to her with a rubber band laced into his fingers. "You will be quiet." He instructed as he took her hair and looped it into a single pony tail in the back. He then gently rolled her over, lifted her up and set her down in the chair. From one of his deep pockets he pulled out a two inch wide roll of elastic bandage. He quickly popped off the metal clips and put them back into his pocket.

 She was didn't even think of what it was for until he took hold of her lower jaw and gave a slight pinch. In fear she opened her mouth and let him stuff the roll in, wriggling it back and forth to get it into her cheeks and between her teeth to pin her tongue down. Holding it in place with his thumb, he took up a roll of surgical adhesive tape and ripped off a long strip and put it to her face from ear to ear. A few more to secure it in place and it left the lower half of her face lost in white tape.

 Then to finish it off, he took up a five inch wide elastic bandage and wrapped several layers around her head securing it in place with the metal clips. "Now you will sit here!" He whispered harshly as he got up and left the room.

 She quickly glanced around. Rios came from out of the boss' office only to dump a pile of ledgers on to the desk and leave again.

 Alone, Winters quickly began to fight her bonds. Her hands had long ago lost their feeling and the idea of being tied and kidnaped was sinking in. She twisted her feet as best she could but the thin plastic straps cut into her flesh. Her twisting and pulling was doing her nothing.

 Teller stood before her tapping his foot.

 Her wide brown eyes looked up to him in dead fear for in his hand was his magnum. 

 "Now let me make myself clear." He said fishing his hand around in his pocket. "The janitor is still in the building. And if you make any noise, or any attempt to escape..." He pulled long metal cylinder from his pocket and began to screw it into the end of his gun. "Do you understand?" 

 She had seen silencers in movies.  His message was clear.

 He wheeled in a garbage cart.  He pocketed his gun and bent down to her feet.  He took another plastic tie from his pocket. He gently removed her shoes and tossed them into the cart. Then he tightly cinched her big toes together.

 He looked her over again before he stepped over to the desk. He took up the ledgers that Rios had left there and tossed them into the cart. Rios came from the other room and tossed what she had into the cart as well. Teller the lifted Winters up and gently placed her in the cart. He took up a large tarpaulin and covered over the cart, leaving her head exposed. He held up the gun for her to see before he covered her head over.

 The rickety squeaking cart made its way down the hall into the elevator. She listened for any voices or strange noises that would indicate someone in the hall. She could only hope that if someone saw him, they would ask why he was pushing a cart around at this hour.

 It didn't happen. Into the elevator and out again. She could hear the echo of the garage. She gasped and bit into her gag as Rios stripped back the tarp and suddenly exposed her. The woman looked down and smiled at the tight bundle in the basket. Teller reached down and slid his strong arms around her and lifted her out of the basket and into the trunk of her own car.

 She didn't move until the car started and was on its way. She again fought in her bonds to no avail. She tried to feel around in the darkness for a sharp instrument to cut her bonds. She ran in her mind of what she had in the trunk. There was a pocket knife in the glove compartment. A lot of good that was. All she could do was wiggle barefoot in the trunk and wait.

 It seemed forever before they stopped and the engine turned off. The trunk sprang open and Teller lifted her out. He tossed her over her shoulder and headed somewhere.

 The sound of a car came close and Winters lifted her head to see two bright headlights coming up the driveway. Her heart sprang for joy, someone to rescue her! She would be free!

 Teller turned around and blocked her view. He stood there, in his calm manner until the car stopped, the lights turned off and she heard Rios step out.

 They headed up the drive and Winters could hear the sound of ocean waves. They were by the beach! She tried to look around the dark moon-less night to see any other houses, but she could not.

 Inside the house was dark, and Teller pulled a small flashlight from his pocket as they made their way up two flights of stairs to the attic.

 The warm, musty smells assaulted her nose and made her head spin as Teller sat her down in an old rattan chair. 

 "Miss Winters..." Teller began politely. "What we have to know is what does the company know?" She tried to shrink in her bonds but there was no where to go. "We knew that you would find the 500,000. That was taken by Mr. Brukner, the man who held the job before me. What we have to know, is what else did you find missing?"

 She knew of nothing else, but then she knew that if she would answer positively or negatively, they would have no longer any use for her and kill her. She didn't answer.

 Rios came up the stairs holding a pair of scissors. Teller nodded as he took a seat on the floor and watched.

 Winters'   terrified eyes locked on the Latin woman coming closer with the scissors. "This is going to be much fun." She smiled as she pulled at Winters' blouse and snipped off the first button. Then she leaned closer and bit off the second and third. She parted Winters' shirt as far as it would go to expose her small, but nicely formed breasts. 

 Rios slid the scissors up underneath Winters' bra. 

 Winters shivered as she felt the cold metal on her skin. With a snip, they fell apart. With Rios' free hand, she slowly began to caress the small breast, kneading it slightly and tugging at each nipple. 

 "They are so small..." She twisted a nipple and Winters winced from behind her gag. "They should be big like mine!" Rios shoved her huge bosom into Winters' face. She tried to turn away but Rios grabbed her pony tail and held her head steady. Then she took the scissors and placed it against Winters' small nipple. Winters felt the pinch and pain of the shears at her nipple. "You will want to cooperate." Rios coached as she forced Winters to rub her face into her large bosoms. Winters could smell the woman’s perfume, and feel the pattern of the bra underneath her clothing. Rios pulled way. 

 She looked down and tugged at Winters’ nipple again. She turned and took spool of thread from a box beside her, and setting down the scissors, she began to pull off a strand. "You seem to like this." Rios teased. 

 Winters could feel her sensitive nipples hardening against her will.  After Rios twisting them, they felt sore and red.

 And alive.

 Rios took the thread and lashed it about the young woman's right nipple several times, stretching it out to what felt like nearly a half of an inch. She then stooped down and licked the other nipple quickly with her tongue. Winters felt it getting to her. Her nipple was sensitive before, but Rios' hot tongue was too much. Rios was now sucking heavily at it, teasing the nipple with her teeth as she played with her own breast.

 Rios suddenly pulled away and stepped aside. Teller was standing before her now. He pulled up a chair and sat before her. With a knife, he sliced through the bonds that held her legs. Then he quickly refastened her right leg to the chair itself leaving her wide open. She tried to close her legs, but Teller harshly grabbed her knee and forced them open again. He then took out a needle from a medical kit and unwrapped it from its sterile plastic. She began to buck as he brought the thing close to her tied and aching nipple but he only gripped it tightly with a thumb and forefinger and pinched it harshly until she stopped. She winced in pain and tried hard not to pull away as he began to run the needle through her nipple.

 Rios stood behind her, caressing Winters' other breast and face--cooing to her as she did.  Winters only watched as the pin painfully poked through the other side of her nipple. Teller then reached back and took up a small little box and attached two small wires to it and to her nipple. He then took tape and strapped it to her free left leg. Then he lifted her leg to a certain height and turned the box on.

 Nothing happened. 

 Winters looked around and waited. He had let go of her leg and out of fear she held it up for a moment before slowly, tentatively letting it down. 

 Burning pain flashed across her chest and she quaked in her chair. Instinctively she lifted her leg higher and the pain stopped. 

 "There is a simple mercury switch inside the transformer. As long as you can keep your leg at that height you'll be all right.

 Rios stepped in front of her now. She took her scissors and slowly cut away Winters' skirt. When it was free, she reached for her panties.

 Winters bit her gag as her nipple suddenly screamed with pain as her leg dipped too low. 

 Rios only watched her for the moment and finished her work. Rios then slowly began to strip her own dress. She slid it free of her wide, shapely hips and let it drop to the floor. A moment later, her bra chased after it.

 Rios kicked Winters' leg just to watch the electric spasm again. Then she unwrapped Winters' gag and slowly, painfully, pulled off the tape. As the roll was pulled free, Rios shoved a giant breast into the girl's mouth and ordered her to suck on it. Trying to comply and holding her now quivering leg was difficult. Rios began to rub her knee into Winters' exposed sex, and pushed deeper until her clit could feel it.

 Fear and pain mixed with confusion as tears trickled down her cheeks and splashed on the latin woman's breast. It was all getting too much. Long minutes were passing while Rios caressed the girl's other breast and massaged her cunt with a well aimed knee. Winters' could feel the woman getting hot from what she was doing and smell her sex. The odor assailed her, and she tried to resist what she was feeling, but Rios' knee set a spark in her sex. She could feel the rising heat of the attic and sweat cling to her body. Her leg was shuddering with stress.

 Her muscles waned and her leg dipped low and volts flashed in her breast. Instinctively she bit into Rios' nipple and she pulled back quickly. Winters' large, brown, puppy eyes quivered for an instant before Rios slapped her face with such force that it turned her head. Rios again kicked the girl's leg and watched her writhe in pain from the transformer. Without the gag she shrieked in pain until Rios slapped her to silence.

 Rios again thrust her tit into the girl's mouth and twisted her free nipple until she began to suck. Rios put her knee back and continued to massage into her clit. Again Winters' leg dipped too far, but this time she locked her jaw and felt the pain without biting Rios. The pain flashed and she felt as if her body was on fire but she went on sucking the woman's nipple in fear of her reprisal. Her leg was trembling and the muscles needed to hold it up forced her hips to thrust against Rio's massaging knee. She found her self grinding in sync with the woman. Her revulsion caused her to fall out of step, but a heart beat later she realized they were as one again. This time she couldn't fight it, she didn't want to. Sweat and juice flowed within her, rushing insanely towards inevitable climax. Her leg dipped down again but the pain flowed smoothly into her orgasm as she quickly faded into unconsciousness.

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A Linda Doll

by DX

Copyrighted 1997, 12/2024, all rights reserved.

A chubby, metallic bronze Rolls Royce rolled its way slowly and quietly down the rain washed street. It crawled gently over the spring cracks in the old asphalt as it rumbled past the old vine encrusted wall and up into the driveway, past the wrought iron gates that almost magically swung open in welcome. 

With the lightest of touches, Linda steered her Rolls down the wavy red brick driveway, slowing to a stop at the steps of the manor. It was every bit as impressive as she had imagined. 

She bowed as she stepped from the door, her wide brim sun hat catching the morning sun, blocking out the skin aging rays. She glanced at the gardener working in a patch of white popping flowers as he dropped a sack of peat moss from his shoulders.  Linda marveled at how the sun rippled across his glistening back. She could not imagine a wrinkle on that body. 

"Good morning, Mrs. Abrams. The doctor will be right with you." 

Linda turned and looked up the short steps, her near opaque sunglasses saving her from squinting, hoping to avoid crows feet in the corners of her eyes. Nurse Magilacutty (why did that name sound so familiar?) stood in the door way. Her crisp, starched uniform was a brilliant white. Simple, stoic, yet it emphasized the shape of her body. Her heaving bosom and wasp waist billowed into curvaceous hips. Her micro-skirt ended there, covering nothing yet hiding everything. Her white stockinged legs poured like cream into her white 4 inch pumps. 

Linda made her way up the short steps carrying her bubble of regality about her. Nurse Magilacutty bowed slightly in a submissive gesture. "Is there anything I can get you? A light breakfast perhaps?" 

Linda looked at the nurse's porcelain face framed by escaping wisps of hair, black and shining like wet tar that spilled from her tiny cap. Her deep brown eyes and long, long waving lashes blinked attentively. Her lips of ruby posed in a delicate bow. 

Linda snorted. "Yes. A rusty scalpel and five minutes alone with your face." 

Her tiny ruby lips smiled politely. "Will there be anything else?” 

Linda sighed and looked back at the gardener working in the sun. " Yes. I want him on a large silver tray with a bottle of chocolate syrup." 

Nurse Magilacutty blushed scandalously. "What would Mr. Abrams say?" 

Blushing? Linda thought. What a pure and wonderfully honest reaction... ‘I should have brought my own scalpel.’  She thought. 

"Why would I care what he thinks? I have his Rolls, I have his money, and I have his undying love and adoration.  Next you'll have me in the same room with that slug." She looked up at the nurse's perfect face. "A bourbon in a highball glass, splash an ice cube in, swish it about for thirty seconds, not twenty eight, not thirty two, then rescue it and bring it here. The drink that is. Do as you will with the ice cube. I'll be watching the flower show." Linda looked out to the garden and marveled how the gardener’s jeans could cling so tightly. 

"Excuse me Ma'am." The nurse said. "But alcohol is not advised before the procedure. We do have some fresh squeezed orange juice." 

Linda looked back at the nurse and her so damned pleased to serve you smile. "Throw two fingers of vodka in there and fail to rescue the ice cube." 

The nurse smiled and with a bow and a turn, went inside. 

Linda watched her hip sway down the hall. The nurse had been one of the deciding factors to get the procedure done. Her mind reeled when the doctor told her the nurse was forty-two. 

"Let me guess," She asked skeptically. “You transplanted her brain into a sixteen year old body and the trigger got stuck on the silicon gun?" 

But the doctor took out her high school year book. 

Linda's eyes grew wide and the doctor only smiled. "No brain transplant." 

Now, Linda wandered into the long main hall of the manor and looked at the mannequins that stood like statues of armor. There were six of them. Six different ones than what were there when she first saw the doctor, but no less amazing. They were perfect, almost like humans frozen in time. Four women, two men. Gowns, tuxedo's, evening-wear, bathing suits. They were perfect humans in every way. 

She looked up to the first one. Poised on her pedestal, her hands in her scarlet hair, ready to open it to a spring breeze, her expression of joy was almost inspiring.  She heard the doctor enter, but she could not look away from the face before her. The deep green eyes shone like a wet jungle leaf.  Her skin was ivory smooth and without blemish. Her lips, looked tasty and inviting. 

She turned quickly at the doctor's approach. "That's what I want doctor. I want perfection. I want to be the fantasy of every male. I want to be irresistible. I want to be an object to be fought over in silly boyish wars like Helen of Troy. I want to be on that pedestal. I want to be worshiped as Cleopatra or Katherine the Great." 

The doctor looked so young and blonde with a male model's casual stance. Like a Ken doll, fresh out of the plastic. He smiled. "You are already all that Mrs. Abrams." 

She tightened her fists. "I want it to last. I don't want to worry about sleeping on one side of my face too long or smiling too much or hiding from the sun like a vampire. I don't want to grow old. I want immortality." She looked up at the exquisite mannequin.   "And I want bigger breasts." 

"You don't need bigger breasts." 

"Can you do it?" She looked at him. 

"Breasts, yeah, that's easy." 

"I mean…”  She barked, flustered.  “You know!" 

"Mrs. Abrams. I can take years from your body and then let you keep them for the rest of your life. My process has shown to extend life beyond the average span and let you keep your beauty. Better than Russians in a Yogurt commercial." 

Nurse Magilacutty silently entered the room with a glass of glowing orange juice on a silver tray. Linda scooped it up and took a gulp like it was a shot of whiskey. She glowered at the nurse. "Next time you pour vodka, take a half step closer to the glass." She looked to the doctor. “Let's go." 

She followed the doctor through the long, maze like halls to his office where Mrs. Ratchett greeted them (another familiar name). Linda didn't look up at the majestic beauty and her historical Victorian nurses uniform, she only handed her the orange juice glass, headed to the examination room, stepped behind the curtain and stripped her clothes, donning her hospital smock. While Nurse Magilacutty folded and hung Linda's clothes, Nurse Ratchett escorted her to the operating room and sat her up on the white covered table. 

"I'm sure Mr. Abrams will be pleased at the new you." Ratchett made small talk. 

Linda looked at the demure face of Nurse Ratchett and could only think of War posters with a black cloaked nurse maternally cradling one of the injured boys as the American flag rippled behind her. She was a pin up girl in white. 

Linda became cross. "Why does everyone want me to please my husband? He and I have an agreement. He gives me money and I let people call me Mrs. Abrams to my face." 

Any snappy retort would have crashed Nurse Magilacutty's little brain but Nurse Ratchett only smiled. "Then why are you doing it?" 

"For me of course, who else? If I can divert the funding that feeds a small African Nation so construction workers can break their necks gawking a second look at this face and body then I'll do it in a heart beat. Me, me, me... and perhaps my new boyfriend." 

"I see. If men have mistresses, what do women have?" 

"Escorts, and I'll be opening up a service with very exclusive clientele; me." Linda scooted a little on the table to peer out the window. "And I think I see my first employee now." 

"Well, he does like working with his hands." 

"Honey, It’s not his hands I'm after." 

The doctor coughed politely as he entered the room. “Let's get this show on the road." He said stepping behind Linda. "Look forward please. You'll feel a slight pinch." There was more than a slight pinch at the base of her neck as a shard of ice pushed in. 

"Ow! How would you like a slight pinch?” Linda went to rub the growing ball of cold on her neck, but Nurse Ratchett held her hands and placed them in her lap. 

"Hold still for a moment." 

Linda glared at her. "You hold still Miss Red Cross. Why don't you duck out and get us some doughnuts and coffee. Make mine a 'Kahlua'. 

The Doctor stepped in front of her, quickly shinning a light in her eyes "Just keep looking forward." He turned off his light and held out his hands. "Squeeze my hands." 

Linda took a grip still staring ahead. She could see part of the garden and the bronze of her Rolls as it pealed out of the driveway with Nurse Magilacutty behind the wheel.  "Where is she taking my car?" 

"She is going to wreck it." The doctor answered matter of factly. 

"I know that, but where is she taking it?" 

"Squeeze my hand. To some cliffs up the coast." 

Linda's anger flared. "Not funny. I don't like people driving my car." 

"Squeeze my hand." 

"I Am Squeezing!" 

Without effort, the doctor slipped his hands out of her limp grip. Nurse Ratchett and the doctor eased Linda down onto the table, laying her flat on her back. Linda could only barely mumble, "What is going on? 

"I'm sorry about your car, Mrs. Abrams, but it was the best way to explain your 'death'. You should not drink and drive." 

Linda could feel cold wrap around her neck like a strangler's hands. She felt her limbs relaxing and ignoring her commands to move. "I... I'm paralyzed!" 

"Something like that. The shot I gave you arrests a section of the synaptic gaps in the dorsal cortex canceling out voluntary movement. That's the group of nerves in your spine that allows your brain to give orders to your body. Soon, this area of nerves will die completely." He took a sharp probe from the tray at his side. "Reflexes..." He poked her in the bottom of her foot and her leg jerked slightly. Still work. Your breathing and heart rate will slow to an almost catatonic state."

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