TG ARCHIVES;'Erica Unleashed #2'{EricA}( F^B teen1 cd )[2!3]
"Erica Unleashed"
-- Disclaimers: If you're offended by anything, don't read this. If you're too young to be reading this legally, don't read this. If you're located someplace where it's illegal to read this, don't read this. All the standard disclaimers apply. I own this. It all came from my own demented mind and the fantasies spewing forth therefrom. All the characters are fictional. Yadda yadda yadda, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, and so forth and so on. And oh yeah, don't try this at home. -- Very important: Thanks to my editor, who shall remain nameless because I didn't think to mention public recognition for all the corrected mistakes and editorial suggestions. Thanks to everyone who emailed me. A few made wonderful suggestions while most encouraged me with praise for part one. All is greatly appreciated. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to tip your waitress. (In other words, donate to this site to keep it free and operating.) -----
EricA Unleashed, Part 2:
"Do you want me to complete the transformation?"
I nodded. It still wasn't clear to me what her plan was, but I'd never need another confirmation my hot stepmother was a miracle worker.
An hour later, the transformation was nearly complete. Breast forms with some sort of gel that gave them weight and made them jiggle were glued to my chest, and held in place by a bra which did little to control the jiggle.
After the application of an ice pack, my "boy parts" were tucked away in some special panties Donna had gotten for me, so as turned on as I was, no embarrassing erection would pop up to spoil the effect. They weren't really panties. It was more like a girdle, I guess, with extra padding in the hips and butt to further the illusion I was a real girl. A real girl who had definitely entered puberty and was ready to strut her stuff. Nail extensions were glued in place, polished, and allowed to dry. God, was this really happening? "If we're going out, we may as well go all out .... don't you agree?" She was holding up some black stockings and a black leather skirt with matching vest. The vest wasn't made to close ... it would remain open just enough to drive the boys crazy trying to get a better look at what was inside. A waist-cincher under a tight white blouse made my hips and breasts look even more prominent.
Then it hit me. We're going out? Going somewhere? Out of the house? In public? In the daytime?
Donna could see the concern appear in my eyes.
"Relax, sweetie... I know you're nervous, but you don't even have to get out of the car if you don't want to. You know nobody will even begin to suspect anything." Then she gave me a little kiss on the neck, sending shivers up and down my spine and rendering me helpless to say no to her. "You do trust me, don't you?"
I nodded, looking into the mirror still. Looking at two very hot, very sexy young women. "Trust you. Completely."
"We'll just go for a little drive ... not in this neighborhood, obviously, people we know might wonder who's in the car with me."
I remained as invisible as possible while we drove to a nearby highway which took us far from where we were likely to encounter anyone we knew. Once on the open road I relaxed a bit, vaguely aware there were other people in the vicinity, but avoided eye contact. A few minutes later, Donna exited off into a nice middle class neighborhood. I had no idea where we were. At 13 one doesn't have a lot of opportunity to explore the city.
"What shall I call you, if I have to call you by name? Erica?"
I never had a reason to pick a female name for myself, but "Erica" seemed a logical choice. "Erica" I whispered, more to myself than to Donna, just to see how it sounded. I knew I looked pretty, could pass for a girl with no problem ... except for my voice. It had never been overly masculine -- sometimes people on the phone would think they were talking to a girl -- but now I had to be extra careful to make sure I sounded feminine. Wait a minute? Was I planning to get out of the car and talk to someone?
Excited and confused, I had to have some answers. "Is this your plan? For me to act like a girl so the bullies will leave me alone?"
Donna looked over at me and smiled. "What do pretty girls get?"
"Anything they ....." I trailed off. This wasn't happening, was it? She remained silent, allowing the wheels turning in my head to run their course. "Anything ... we want." With that I felt an incredible burst of self confidence. I also saw a boy on a bicycle on the road ahead, and rolled down my window to make sure he got a good look. As fate would have it, we arrived at the stop sign at the same time, and it was so cute the way he glanced at me, looked away quickly so he wouldn't be caught staring, then tried his best to look at me out of the corner of his eye, without looking like he was looking at me. Exactly what Eric would have done.
That's when I realized Eric was another person. I was Erica.
Eric was a loser boy. I was a pretty girl. He would spend the rest of his life getting picked on and not being good enough. I could have anything I wanted. As the car slowly proceeded past the stop sign, I blew the boy a kiss, knowing he would never see me again, but would always remember. He'd probably even jerk off that night thinking of me. My little penis was straining against its bonds.
"I love you so much" I said to my beautiful stepmother. "Do ... do you think, I mean, do you really think nobody will know..." I didn't want to say 'I'm a boy'. I wanted to be as far away from any reminders of that accident of birth. "Will .... know, my secret?"
"What did you see in the mirror?"
"A beautiful girl" I whispered. "With her beautiful .... mom."
Donna once again assured me that nothing about me suggested I was or had ever been male. I knew it, but I needed her reassurance. "Then, I guess maybe I can get out of the car if ... if something comes up?"
Blowing a kiss to the boy on the bike was and incredible thrill for me. I wanted more. I had to have more. I knew I was beautiful and wanted others to
think so, too.
"Oh, I'm sure we can come up with a reason. Several reasons, if you want."
"Well, I do want. And you know what pretty girls get."
My first "reason" to get out of the car and mingle with the unsuspecting public was a convenience store on a fairly quiet street. When we arrived there were two other vehicles in the parking lot, a newer minivan and an old pickup truck loaded with construction tools and equipment. There were also three kids' bikes lying near the door. Donna handed me a five-dollar bill. The plan was for me to strut into the store, select a couple of sodas for us, pay for them, and get out. My heart was racing as I stepped out of the car. Taking a deep breath, I strutted into the doorway as if I owned the place. There was a little bell on the door to notify the clerk someone had entered, and it notified everyone else, too. Suddenly, there were seven pair of eyes on me. Admiring eyes. My pulse just sped up a bit more, but something in me told me it was essential I act as if what I was doing was completely normal for me.
What was normal for Erica, I decided, was to pause in the doorway to let everyone get a look at me, while I scanned the store looking for opportunities for my amusement. The clerk was totally uninteresting to me. A foreigner, too old and unattractive. The pickup truck belonged to two guys in work clothes. The older one was looking for the proper type of oil for his truck, I guess, while the other was getting fountain drinks for both of them. The three boys were at the magazine rack checking out the latest edition of some car magazine. That is, until I gave them something better to check out. It occurred to me they were all older than me (probably around 16) yet I was
totally in control.
The seventh set of eyes belonged to a cute little boy standing by the restrooms for no apparent reason. He was maybe 9 or 10 and it occurred to me his
mother probably told him to wait right there for her and stay out of trouble. Mom forgot to tell him to watch out for trouble finding him.
I let the door close behind me and took a few more steps, then stopped to look at the newspaper rack. I knew the three bike boys could smell my perfume, and they were all visibly nervous by my close proximity. The 40-something construction guy I wasn't sure about, but when I glanced at the 20 year old, the bulge in his jeans was prominent. He wasn't especially attractive, so I decided to ignore him. He didn't deserve my attention.
All those videos were starting to pay off.
I knew I could have my way with the three boys at the magazine rack, but what I really wanted to know was how my charms would work on the little guy, the one waiting for mommy by the restrooms. God, he was SO CUTE I just wanted to snuggle with him, holding his head against my breasts the way Donna sometimes did with Eric. Before long I could distinctly hear the sounds of two little girls in the bathroom with mommy. That poor woman. I smiled at the thought of how her motherly duties left her little boy vulnerable to a girl like me. I put down the newspaper I'd picked up and smiled at the little boy and winked. His face turned red immediately and he looked down at his feet for a bit, then slowly his eyes drifted back up to mine. I was aimlessly walking over in his general direction pretending I wasn't sure what I wanted. He was as mesmerized with me as Eric was of Donna all those times she was teasing him.
I made a few selections - a bag of chips, a candy bar, a package of gum, and two canned sodas. I knew it amounted to more than the five dollars Donna had given me, but I didn't care. Then, walking past the little boy, I allowed the lightest item, the little bag of chips, to slip from my grasp and fall at my feet. Instead of bending to pick it up, I just looked at the little boy. Waiting. He was totally smitten with me, and after a moment had the presence of mind to pick up the bag I dropped and hand it back to me.
"Thank you, Sweetie." Oh yes, my voice was perfectly feminine ... just like the rest of me. I bent down then to give my little admirer a thank-you kiss. I was pleased to see the faint outline of my puckered lips on his cheek,
something his mother would surely see when she came out.
My total came to $6.41 and I only had a five dollar bill tucked away in my little vest pocket. Oh dear, what's a lady in distress to do? I could see the three boys at the magazine rack weren't sure how to react. They all wanted to offer to pay for my things, a couple even started reaching into their pockets, but they were too slow to act. In an instant my little hero was beside me at the counter, looking up at me with such devotion in his eyes. He had a crumpled dollar bill in hand, digging into his pocket for the remainder. A nickel. Another nickel. Three pennies. Watching the little guy pull out one or two coins at a time was so hot I almost lost my composure. Another penny. Ah, two quarters. That'll do it. That also earned him another kiss on the cheek before I gathered up my things and strutted out of the store.
As I strutted across the parking lot, seven sets of eyes on my ass, I realized my heart was racing again -- not from fear, but from sheer excitement. I was so proud of myself, and knew that teasing boys had just become my new
hobby. I couldn't wait to do it again.
Over the next few days my "training" intensified. Mirrors were put up all over the house, many of them full length, so I was constantly aware of my posture, my strut, my body language. I couldn't pass a mirror now without flashing a sexy smile or a little wink. Often, I'd blow myself a kiss.
It wasn't as embarrassing as it sounds that Donna also supervised my bathroom activities. Not that she hovered over me on the toilet, but ... I didn't pee standing up any more. The special panties (she had gotten me several of them) stayed on almost all the time, and I practiced pulling them up and down and tucking away my boy parts so I could do it easily in the confines of a public restroom stall.
We also worked on my voice. That wasn't a big challenge, since Eric practically sounded like a girl to begin with. We did, however, have a lot of subtle nuances to work on.
Also, we talked. Donna explained I was more special than most people because I was in greater touch with both my masculine and feminine sides. She said my male side lusted after pretty girls, but my female side liked to flirt
with cute boys. If I ever kissed a boy, for instance, it wasn't Eric kissing a boy, it was Erica. "There's nothing gay about that."
Teasing and manipulating boys was one of our favorite subjects for conversation. Thirteen years of good Christian upbringing wasn't something that just disappeared with a poof as soon as Donna glued silicone to my chest. I kind of wondered about the little boy in the store who helped pay for my purchase. It was almost all the money he had. Did he get in trouble with his mom for that? Did she yell at him when she discovered the lipstick on his cheek? I knew how something like that would have affected Eric at that age. Would he have some unhealthy obsession with bad girls who only take advantage of him? I felt a little sorry for him and for what I did. I even thought about going back to that neighborhood hoping to run into him somehow and returning his money.
Donna said she understood, but I don't know if she did. After all, she's been beautiful her whole life. She had never been Eric. She went on to explain there's a whole subculture of men who crave the opportunity to submit themselves to beautiful women. Dominant women. I was already familiar with what she was talking about. I'd discovered it on my own thanks to the Internet, and even a lot of what she bookmarked for me to read had some of that stuff in it. Those pictures and stories never failed to get me aroused.
"You did him a huge favor, honey. As fast as he offered to pay, you know he
has to be naturally submissive. Imagine how frustrated he'd be growing up looking for something like that and never finding it." I wasn't totally buying it. Maybe he was just being nice. "Now he'll always have you in his heart, even if he never sees you again."
Wow. I'd always be in his heart. I can't explain how special that made me feel. I didn't totally buy in to the idea that what I did to him was okay, but after talking with Donna, I didn't feel as bad about it.
As my training progressed, we talked about more serious things, Like Eric's future. Like my future. One little taste and I was ready to be Erica forever, but Donna said it was too soon to make that decision. I didn't know anything about the surgery that turns boys into girls, and Donna was controlling my Internet usage, but I knew it existed and I wanted to know more. Donna said she could start giving me female hormones to help the process along, and I jumped at the chance. That resulted in a nice long chat in which I learned Donna had started giving Eric those hormones long ago, even before the end of school. I shouldn't feel deceived though. It was Eric, a boy, she secretly gave them too. As Erica, I had the right to know what I was taking. Eric didn't, because he was a loser boy. It all made perfect sense to me, and I loved Donna even more for what she did to help me become Erica.
Naturally, talk of Eric becoming Erica involved talk of my breasts. That was the most visible thing about me that would be undeniably female, and I didn't need any classes on how female breasts could affect males. I got the impression we were approaching a "point of no return" with the hormones. My breasts were growing, and if I was ever going to be Eric again, that growth
needed to stop.
I didn't want it to stop.
I wanted them to keep growing until I was undeniably Woman. I wanted to wear push up bras under low cut dresses. I wanted to wear halter tops. I wanted to wear bikinis. I wanted grown men to drool as I turned their minds to mush and they became instruments of my will. I wanted to be just like my beautiful sexy Mom, but more so. I knew a nice ass would help, but my breasts would be my main weapons. That, and my brains. Eric's tests showed he had an IQ of 135. I was willing to wager Erica's would be higher. I was that confident. That empowered. The very idea of waiting too long for that to happen was intolerable. Pretty girls get what they want, but the prettiest ones shouldn't have to wait.
Despite the fact I was on female hormones, I still masturbated every day. I
would kneel on my bed still wearing some hot outfit, facing the mirror over my dresser. On the dresser were a couple of framed pictures of Donna. Between those pictures and the hot girl in the mirror playing with herself, I had plenty of inspiration. The night we talked about the little boy in the convenience store, I pictured a bunch of little ten year old boys lined up to put money in an offering plate I had stolen from a church. They were lined up there for the privilege of kissing my feet. Seeing that beautiful sexy girl in the mirror, I knew she was a goddess who deserved to be worshipped.
That night I had one of my most powerful orgasms ever, then slept like a baby.
The other thing we practiced, the thing that was more fun than anything else, was our dance moves. I knew I was getting quite good, and that someday soon I could put those skills to use flirting and manipulating boys. After another week of practice and living like a girl 24/7 I was desperate to go out in public again. We would pick a similar routine, just drive around a bit while I practiced innocently flirting with guys in other cars or along side the road. Not necessarily talking to them (which I did occasionally) but usually just flirting with a look, and perhaps a smile. I practiced taking off my sunglasses and giving them "the look" ... I practiced lifting and lowering them just enough to peek under or over them and let them know I was checking them out. I practiced smiling. I even practiced looking them over with a critical eye and letting my expression tell them I didn't find anything of interest. I'd done it all in the mirror, and in front of Donna, but doing it to real guys in public was a huge turn on.
I wasn't sure I was ready for a huge crowd, like a shopping mall, but I was really anxious to talk to a guy one on one - up close and personal as they
say.
Donna appeared to be pleased with my progress, and didn't ask any questions I might have difficulty answering. She was content with just letting me explore my newfound femininity. She did ask where I'd like to go next, and I had no ideas. I asked if she had any, and she replied "How about getting your ears pierced? You're probably the only 13 year old girl in the world who hasn't had her ears pierced."
At the mall? Was I ready for the mall? "Of course you are. You're not starting to lose faith in my opinions, are you?"
Of course I wasn't. "Please, though, can we just park real close to the place they do it and hurry in and hurry out. I mean, that's a LOT of people."
"Whatever pretty girls want." That was her way of saying yes to me.
Along with that little growth that was occurring in my own breasts thanks to the hormones, I had graduated to prosthetic B-cups. Wow, what an incredible feeling the first time (and every time) I strutted around the house with those puppies glued to my chest.
Now I was going out in public, not only as a pretty girl, but a pretty girl with bigger breasts. Thirteen years old? No way would anyone believe that now.
I selected my outfit for the trip. It was cool enough outside that I opted for some tight fitting jeans that showed I had hips and an ass - and no one needed to know it was thanks to the padding in my special underwear. I'd been dying for a chance to wear my new boots in public, too. Black leather lace-up boots that came up high on my calves with four and a half inch spike
heels. It had taken a while to master the ability to walk in them, but the
payoff was be worth the effort.
I insisted I wear a waist cincher. Donna insisted I didn't need it. As glad as I was to be taking hormones, I was afraid they might be putting too much fat around my middle and this would make sure none of the boys thought I was too fat. I also reasoned it helped my posture and prevented me from eating too much. After a few minutes of Donna telling me how beautiful and sexy I was, I was beginning to weaken. Then, when she showed me a new top she'd gotten me, all my resistance crumbled.
I'd forgotten bookmarking it online. At the time I thought I wouldn't be ready for something like that any time soon, but there it was. Ready for me to put on. And I was ready for it. The sexiest, most beautiful Royal Blue crop top imaginable. "This sexy top features a mock neck, quarter sleeve, cutout detail and a tight fit to show off your girly shape! 96% Rayon 4% Spandex" It went without saying I wasn't supposed to wear a bra.
On the way to the mall we took a beautiful tree-lined boulevard I'd never seen before. Definitely an upscale area. At one point we came to the church district, I guess. Four big beautiful churches all close to one another, two on each side of the road. Since the transformation began I would get these momentary feelings of alarm, like this isn't what God wants me to be doing. God made me a boy and that's what I was supposed to be. I was always able to put those thoughts out of my head almost immediately. God made Eric, and Eric was a loser. Eric would never be anything. Eric had every reason in the universe to be mad at God for what he did. Some kind of cruel joke.
Still, thirteen years of church and Sunday School every week.
Ever since Donna came to be part of the family, she had attended church with the boys. She bowed her head for prayers, sang softly during the hymns, made sure Eric read his Sunday School lesson the night before. Since I became Erica, neither of us had brought up any talk of religion, of God, of whether or not anything we were doing were sins. As we approached those four huge church buildings, a feeling of dread started to overcome me.
Suddenly I was overcome with feelings of confusion. There was something I needed to do, but I couldn't explain why.
"Donna, can we go around the block and pass back by those churches again?"
"Why, honey? Is anything wrong?"
"No, I .. I don't know. I can't explain it. It's just something I need to do."
"Whatever pretty girls want" she responded with a smile.
As we circled back around, an image began to form in my mind. I was a very sexy, very evil princess in a sword and sorcery story, leading my army into
the very heart of Christendom. They couldn't stop me. As we passed through the gauntlet of churches again, I pictured sitting atop my horse wearing sexy armor that showed off my cleavage to it's best advantage. Many a godly knight failed in his quest to stop me because at an opportune moment my cloak would fall away revealing my breasts. That moment of hesitation on his part always resulted in his death. Ah, weak males. And after all that time in church preparing themselves spiritually for battle.
"Can we go around again. Please? It's really important."
At night teenage boys would slip out of their camp and come to mine begging for an audience with the Princess. To pay homage to me. To reveal their troop strengths, their positions, their battle plans, all in the hopes of earning my favor. Even though they were warned how evil I was their hormones would cause them to betray their comrades and their god. The youngest and cutest I would keep as servants. The others I would put to death.
Then there were all those captured priests. I couldn't simply put them to death, make martyrs of them. No, they had to be broken, even corrupted, then
shown off to the people. Then they would know -- if the priests couldn't resist my charms and remain faithful to their god, what chance did the people have?
"One more time, please?"
Donna was indulgent, but concerned. As she turned to make the block again she asked "What is it, Sweetheart? Are you having second thoughts about going to the mall?"
"No, I can't explain it right now. I just ... need to do this." Then I spotted them, in a shaded area of a parking lot beside one of the churches. "Turn here!" I was pointing at the entrance to the church's parking lot. As we
turned into the lot, Donna saw them too. A large passenger van, a pickup truck with cargo trailer attached, and two teenage boys in Boy Scout uniforms. Godly little soldiers campaigning for truth, justice, and the American way, or whatever. I smiled at Donna. "We need directions to the mall, don't we?"
"A couple of helpless females like us? Of course we do."
We speculated the adults and most of the scouts were gathered inside the church, leaving these two outside to keep an eye on all their camping gear.
"Can you guys tell me how to get to the mall? My mom and I just moved here and we don't know our way around yet."
Was that entirely plausible? Who cares? I had gotten out of the car and walked a few steps toward them to get their hormones stirred up. That made it not matter if my story was plausible or not. They both managed to look past me to check out my mom, but Donna just looked disinterested behind her own
sunglasses. One poor thing started stammering as he tried to tell me how to get to the closest shopping mall. The other, the younger of the two, just stared at me as if it wasn't rude to stare.
Listening to the taller one stammer out directions made me feel powerful. I
was reveling in my power over a weaker male. I wasn't sure what ages one had to be to be in Boy Scouts, but I guessed the one talking was maybe 16. The younger one was... oh, who cares. I focused on the stammering guy. Stepping up even closer, I gently touched his arm as I whispered "So, you guys are going camping huh? I really love the outdoors. Where are you going?"
I didn't really love the outdoors. Eric was definitely not an outdoorsy typ e, but, for the chance to tease a group of Boy Scouts I could rough it for a night or two. The more he talked the more he sounded like a stammering fucking idiot boy and the more my contempt for him grew. He was weak, and I had this image of me crushing him beneath my heels. Or an evil princess thrusting a dagger into his heart. I managed to make out what he was saying, though. The name of the local state park. Of course, there was a campsite there that was for the exclusive use of the Boy Scouts. I might just have to invade their little male domain and teach them a lesson about not letting pretty girls camp wherever they wanted.
Then I decided to go for broke. "God, you're so fucking cute" I whispered as I stepped closer, then wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him to me for a kiss. Eric had never been kissed, and I'm sure if I was relying on Eric's expertise I would have blown my cover right there. But I wasn't Eric. I was Erica, and my self confidence more than made up for any lack of experience.
Anyway, the boy seemed to like it. And I knew I would be in his heart forever.
I broke the kiss then spun around to strut back to Donna's car, but not before giving the younger one a little pat on his crotch. "And maybe I'll see you there too, cutie."
Once I was inside the car I blow the boys a kiss then slump down in my seat. "Fuck!" I didn't know what had gotten into me, but I definitely liked it.
At the mall, I felt like an A-list celebrity stepping out of my limo at a red carpet affair. Even the weather cooperated as I gracefully turned my head and the wind did the rest. Two guys walking by practically broke their necks as their heads both whipped around to look.
Donna had offered to walk with me, but suggested it would be better if she followed from a distance. She had dressed "frumpy" (as if a goddess like her could ever look frumpy) so it wouldn't look like we were together, and not draw too much attention from me. Initially I planned for her to walk with me, but after the church experiences, I knew I could do it on my own. I had her credit card to pay for my piercings. Her card, her husband's money. I didn't even think of him as my dad. He was Eric's dad, and Eric was an only child. I had enough experience with the prosthetic breasts to know the glue would hold, so I took extra delight in strutting through the mall with my boobs bouncing like I was riding a bucking bronco. Guys were staring. Girls were staring. Guys were whistling or making comments - some less rude than others. Donna had warned me about the rude ones, and I had a repertoire of responses I could call on if I felt the need. Girls were getting pissed at their guys for watching me. I was in heaven.
My biggest regret at this point was that my breasts weren't real. Otherwise, I'd get my nipples pierced, too. Oh well, one step at a time.
"Just remember" Donna texted my new phone "if you yelp, make it a girly yelp." I read the message, turned to wink at her, then entered the kiosk where
the piercings would be done.
I know the high school girl working there totally took me for a girl. She was marginally attractive, but shy and unsure of herself. What a pity, I thought. If she had a little more confidence ... but then, I don't need the competition. Let her waste her life here while I have my way with all the hot
guys.
As the girl, Cindy was the name on her smock, chatted with me, it occurred to me that she might be ... hitting on me? Well, not really hitting on me, because she was too shy. Hinting she was interested would be more like it. Holy crap! An 18 year old girl who wouldn't give Eric the time of day, and I could have her flustered and panting for me in no time. My little cock was straining now against its prison panties, and I prayed an embarrassing little bulge wouldn't pop up in the tight jeans I wore.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, and it took a moment to realize what she was apologizing for. I was semi-reclined in the chair and she had accidentally brushed her forearm across my breasts. It wasn't like I could feel it directly, but the pressure against my fake boobies against my very sensitive real breasts was still there.
"That's alright" I whispered. "I kind of liked it."
She turned several shades of red, and I winked at her, then closed my eyes to let her know I was waiting for the procedure, not here to flirt with ordinary looking girls. That's when I knew I wouldn't yelp from the pain. It wasn't in my character to do so.
"I don't usually do this" Cindy said as she was giving me my receipt, "but I wrote down my phone number, in case.. you know, if you have any problems or questions or ... anything." She lowered her eyes in submissiveness, and perhaps expecting my rejection.
"Anything?" I asked, a little amusement in my voice. It was obvious who was
in control here. She nodded, her eyes still lowered. "Well then, I'll keep this handy. You never know when I might want something else pierced."
The mall was noisy, but I'm pretty sure I heard a little whimper.
The plan was for Donna to keep an eye on me from a distance. She could rescue me if anything started to go wrong, but otherwise simply text or voice mail me any comments or suggestions. "What did u say 2 her?" As soon as I left, Cindy closed up shop and disappeared.
I texted back, getting a thrill from something as small as seeing my sexy nails manipulating the buttons on my cute feminine little cell phone. "Just flirted a little."
"Nawty girl. Luv u."
"Luv u 2"
I'd just hit "send" when I spotted my next target. Not a particular person,
but a group of persons. Boys mostly. Perfect prey for a girl like me. Nerdy teen boys in the video arcade.
As soon as I stepped into the place, I knew I could have my pick of boys. Even the boys who were there with girls. Boring girls in faded jeans and sneakers and boring tshirts who hadn't bothered to do anything with their hair. Dozens of little things like that add up to separate the average girl from the girl with a commanding presence wherever she goes. I was feeling extremely confident, and extremely naughty. Then I saw him, and knew nothing at this point in my life could be naughtier than playing with the boy with the "What would Jesus do?" t-shirt.
"Jesus damn sure wouldn't do what you're about to do, little boy" I thought to myself. I strutted over to him and the machine he was playing. There was one little advantage to having been Eric in a previous life. I knew what losers did and how they thought. I was also familiar with all the latest games.
"Hi," I said when I'd completed my invasion of his space. I'm pretty sure he was half hypnotized by my jiggling breasts before I even got close. "I'm Erica, what's your name?" His name was Peter, and I figured he was around my age, or maybe a little younger. I didn't bother to ask. "What are you playing, Petie?" I knew he wasn't about to correct me and risk earning my disfavor. "Cool, can you teach me how to play?" He'd be delighted. I suspected he would. "I don't have any money though, is that a problem?" Yes, it was, but he wasn't about to say it. No, he was more than willing to let me blow all his tokens trying to learn some stupid arcade game.
"Uh, h... how old are you?" he finally worked up the nerve to ask after I'd gone through three dollars of his money. I was busy killing monsters, which required a great deal of arm and shoulder action, which resulted in a great deal of jiggling boobage. I was "getting the hang" of this game, though it was all an act. In the mall across town, Eric's initials were on three of the top ten scores entered into that machine. In a little break in the action when my enemy was regrouping, I looked down at that boy (those heels had so many advantages) and responded "Sixteen. How old are you?"
I could see the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to figure out how old he could claim to be and maybe get away with it. "Uh ... f ... fifteen."
"Cool. You're a little short for your age, aren't you?" Oh, Erica, you bitch! When I'd gone through the rest of his tokens, I just turned to him and said "Do you have any more money?" He had to learn the facts of life sometime, right? He shook his head a little, and I responded. "Oh well. Bye." And then I strutted out of the arcade, giving Donna a wink as I passed.
Soon I got a phone call from my hot stepmom. "He just stood there staring in your direction for a minute after you left. He didn't play any more after that."
"That's because he didn't have any more money."
"Poor little guy."
"Like we give a fuck?"
She laughed. "I love having you for a daughter."
I wanted to cry. That was the most incredible thing I ever heard. After a minute, I texted her back. "I love you, Mom."
That woman that passed away seven years earlier, she was a nice lady, and a wonderful mother, but she wasn't my mother. She was Eric's mother. My mom is named Donna, and she's alive and well and there for me whenever I need her. And that guy Mom is married to? Well, he's really more like a stepfather than a real dad. Probably just temporary. Best not to get attached.
One more call before we met up to go home: "When can we go dancing? Do I need to buy anything special for the occasion?"
"How about tonight? And even if you have everything you need, pretty girls always deserve more."
I giggled when I thought of Mom's husband, the guy working to pay the bills, as just my stepfather. No one special, just some guy who's out busting his ass to make money for us girls to spend. Mom had already supplied me with an extensive wardrobe, so I didn't see anything special I just "had" to have. Still, I had a credit card, so I might as well put it to use. Two hundred bucks later I was the proud owner of a new pair of shoes (a girl can't have too many of those, you know) and a mostly pink jogging outfit. I didn't want to end up like those frumpy girls when I got older.
I also needed another pair of sunglasses. The old guy shouldn't complain, they were on sale for only a hundred and fifty bucks and they looked fantastic on me.
It was at the jewelry store the real damage was done. I asked Donna to join me to help pick out some earrings -- and matching necklace, and bracelet. I also thought a few rings might enhance things, as well as a couple of ankle bracelets. Already I was planning to return soon to have my belly button pierced.
It wasn't even a year earlier at the mall across town that Eric's dad wouldn't let him buy a video game he wanted because it was too expensive. "Maybe Christmas" the father said, then by Christmas he'd forgotten which video game the boy wanted.
For girls like me, I realized, any day can be Christmas.