Chapter 2:
It was the next night. After I landed in Chicago, I found myself a hotel room to store my clothing and extra kits in. It wasn’t the Hilton or anything, but it thankfully was cash-only (my preference) and I set a few… things in place to make sure any of my temporary neighbors didn’t try to break in. Then, I located the strip club that Mrs. Dalton’s friend had seen Lauren in. His distaste was right, it was a… well, a shithole. It seemed like the equivalent of the bottom of a swamp, where everything was coated in slime and grotesqueness, only fit to be reviled and tossed aside if accidently caught.
But. I didn’t come to judge. I came to heal.
I got out of my car, carrying two of my reversal tools. I only knew of one corrupted at the moment, but knowing how these things went, I brought an extra just in case someone else was in the area. I wore a longcoat over my cassock just so people weren’t confused at what looked like a seminary student on the bad side of town. I entered inside Hell.
Bad electronic music pounded my ears. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy electronic music, but when it’s obnoxious and abrasive like this, you can count me out. I tried my best not to be in a pissy mood as one of the employees walked towards me, a Latina woman with decent sized breasts, but wide hips and long legs.
“Say, aren’t you a little young to be in here?”
I pulled out my fake ID. Of course, everything I had was fake when you really thought about it, but I mean it in the traditional sense of the word. “I know I look young, but I am 21” I shouted over the music.
“I see. You new in town, kid?” She handed me my ID, back.
“Yeah. Transferred from OSU. I’m studying sociology.” I had no idea about the qualities of either university’s sociology departments, but it didn’t seem like she knew either as she smiled slightly.
“Well, you came in at the right time, kid. The best girl in the house is about to do her thing.”
I gave a grin that tried to be perverted, but, through my incompetence, probably looked pained. “Oh. How good is she?”
“Mmm, she’s everything you could want in a woman, kid, especially her tits. Hell, I’d like to get a taste of them, but she only lets men fuck her most of the time.” She shrugged, as if to say “her loss”, and walked off. I sat down near the front of the stage, waiting for the show to start.
Thankfully, the annoying noise ended. Sadly, it was replaced by stereotypical 70s porn music. BAD 70s porn music. The crowd cheered as a woman walked out onto the stage, wearing a thong that looked like it barely covered her ass and two pasties covering her nipples; other than that, she was practically nude. Her face was identical to the picture of Lauren, and the majority of her body seemed to be the same. The only difference was her breasts; the woman in the photo was decent-sized, but these were Grand Guignol breasts, somehow both grotesque yet natural looking at the same time. She didn’t have plastic surgery, no scars or anything like that, so whatever her TF was, it was natural.
She began to dance, moving herself around the pole like a pro. Men, disgusting, vile men, jeered and hooted at this prostitution of a corrupted innocent. I will not and will never deny that I have carnal desires; almost every person does. And I have acted on them with multiple women over the years, all out of wedlock. While this may sound like a confession, I’ve gotten the feeling over my life that God doesn’t really care about as many things as we do. What I am trying to say is that these men were the representation of what I hated and what I fight against every day of my life: perversion of the body, perversion of the mind, perversion of the soul. When people only focus on their basic impulses, when they lack the ability to even think about what someone else could be thinking, let alone care about them, I find it hard to call them “human”.
As I was calming myself down, I was noticing that Lauren kept looking over in the same direction several times. Looking over myself, I saw a man sitting down with a woman who was most likely a stripper sitting in his lap, moaning at the way he was grabbing her breasts. I recognized him; this was Tom. It seemed like he was affected as well. Good thing I had brought an extra one.
I saw the Hispanic woman I talked to earlier and called her over. “Is it possible for me to spend some… private time with her?”
She looked over at Lauren (I couldn’t tell if it was either envy or lust) and then back at me. “100 for touching, an extra 50 for fucking her.”
I pulled out neatly folded three 50 dollar bills and gave them to her. She smirked as she put them in her cleavage (Something I always found unsanitary, but I did understand the practicality of having an extra pocket). “I’ll get you when she’s ready.” She walked away at that.
Fifteen minutes after she came out, the music ended, and she walked backstage, almost as if in a daze. A minute after that, I got tapped on my shoulder and was led to a back room. “She’s waiting for you.” I walked inside.
Lauren was sitting on the ground, her skin glistened by sweat and completely naked. I sat down on the metal folding chair provided. Really, you expect men to enjoy mammary intercourse while sitting in a chair like this? I looked forward; Lauren now looked hungry, and I had a good idea of what for.
“Lauren, you look a little sweaty. Would you like to wipe yourself off before we get started?” I pulled out a handkerchief from my coat pocket and gave it to her. She began to wipe the sweat off her body, all the while staring at my crotch. I looked at my watch. The effects of the rag would begin in 3… 2… 1…
There wasn’t much at first, but I did notice that the intense stare aimed at my crotch turned into more of a general look. Quickly, I began to see that her breasts were shrinking somewhat, inch by inch. Eventually, it got to the point where her face took on a general look of confusion, and her breasts, while still large, were of a more natural size.
“Are you Lauren Waters?”
She looked up at me, surprised. “Y-Yes. What happened to me?”
“It’s alright.” I knelt to her level. “You were… corrupted, but I’ve freed you.” I took the rag from her. “This has been soaked in a chemical that is able to negate transformations. However, it can’t turn a person into what they used to be. You’ll still have some side effects that will be discovered, but you’re free, Lauren. You’re free.”
She looked at me, on the verge of tears. I held her tightly, rubbing her back.
“There, there, it’ll be OK. There’s going to be a lot of people helping you get back onto your feet.” I let her go, looking at her in the eyes and taking my coat off. “Here, you should be covered while we’re walking out.”
She took it and wrapped it around herself. Finally, she spoke. “Why are you helping me?”
“I was hired to. By your sister.” She looked shocked for a moment, then collected herself and nodded slightly, murmuring “I see…”
“That man you were looking at, is that Tom?” She nodded. “Was he affected the same way you were?”
She looked at me. “I… I think so.”
“OK then. Just follow my lead and we’ll get you both out of here, OK?” I stood up and helped her get up. The two of us walked out of the room and got to the main room. I walked over to Tom, who was staring at the women currently on stage and seemed like he was about to have sex with the stripper in his lap.
“Hey, Tom.” He looked at me, right before he noticed the hypodermic injecting itself into his carotid. His eyes widened as the drug quickly took effect, making him shake his head after I pulled the needle out (don’t worry, it self cauterizes).
“Where… Where I am?”
“You’re free, my son. Come on, let’s get you out of here.” I helped him out of his chair, to the disagreement of his current mate.
“Oi, he hasn’t fully paid me yet!”
I looked back. “How much does he owe you?”
“60 bucks.”
I pulled out a fifty and a ten and handed it to her; she took it with some confusion. I got Lauren and Tom out of… that place and got them into the back seat of my car. They were trying their best not to look at each other. It was going to have to take some time to get them comfortable. Maybe some late night coffee would do the trick?
I took off, leaving the sewage behind me.