Tales From the Sorcery Patrol: Case # 9914: The Independent Businesswoman      By: C.M. Ellis

 

Officer Mark Chandler

02:13 hrs

11/26/02

Officer Fae and I were pulling the graveyard shift downtown that night, and although it’s hardly the most pleasant of shifts, it’s all a part of doing your duty as an officer in the Sorcery Patrol. Both of us were a little bleary-eyed from the shift change, but a little good coffee, and a little good conversation kept us both awake. I think that Emily in particular was having a hard time working at night. I don’t think pixies need the sunlight exactly, but she did seem a little loopy.

On the whole, it had been a pretty slow evening. Mostly we were just patrolling around, maintaining a presence in the neighborhood. There had been a few loitering teens out past curfew but not doing anything else obviously illegal, so we just warned them and had them move along. And one call of strange noises that had turned out to be the caller’s own dog rooting through garbage cans. Other than that, nothing very interesting had happened.

Then, just as we thought the rest of the evening would be completely uneventful, we passed a woman strutting down the sidewalk all by herself. She was wearing a tiny bustier, an absurdly short leather skirt that didn’t even completely cover the skimpy lace panties worn beneath, fishnet stockings, and what looked like they had to be five-inch heels. She had long blond hair hanging nearly to her waist, and seemed about 22 years old.

This woman was prancing along in a ridiculously exaggerated feminine gait. It was practically a parody. The woman was, or at least would have been an attractive female with a pretty face and a nice body, but the clothing, the mannerisms, and the terribly overdone makeup made the person far too funny looking to be sexy. That was my opinion anyway, but then, I don’t generally go for hookers.

I looked over at my partner, Officer Emily Fae, who looked back at me while obviously suppressing a giggle. I was having a little trouble myself. It looked like our evening might be a little more entertaining after all.

We pulled up alongside the woman and turned off the engine. When she turned and saw us there, her face lit up like a child on her birthday. She started to run over to my window, but it took her a little while because the tight skirt and high heels restricted her stride to about six inches. She probably went slower while trying to run than she had while walking. And of course her huge breasts bounced crazily as she did.

Amused, but still on my guard, I rolled down my window and waited for the woman to reach it. When she did, she almost immediately began to speak.

"Ooooh, migod. This is, like, so totally great." She squeaked in a tiny little bimbo voice. "I’ve been, like looking for a man all night!" She seemed to suddenly realize that she was acting improperly, and then quickly modified her tone to a corny, breathy, sex-talk, and her eyes projected seduction with all the depth of a porn star. "I mean, hey there, big guy. You look big and strong, and… hung." She winked as if she’d just made a subtle double entendre. "I’m soooo lonely and horny. Could you help me out? Could you? And then give me some money?" Once her little routine had finished, her face returned to the wide vacant smile.

At this point, I was having a lot of difficulty maintaining a straight face, and I could here Emily snickering softly behind me.

"Um, Ma’am? I wonder if maybe you didn’t notice the kind of car I’m driving, or maybe the uniform could have been a clue. Are you really sure that you don’t want to rephrase that question?" Emily let out a snort, but clapped a hand over her mouth.

The woman’s smile faded briefly, as she tried to work out my question. "Um, does that mean we can fuck now, or what?" I rolled my eyes over to Emily, but didn’t say a word. Instead, I got out of the car.

"Ok, sweetie, I think you’d better come with us." Her mouth gaped open.

"Oh my God! How did you know my name?"

"Your name? What? Sweetie?"

She shrieked with pleasure and jumped up and down, clapping her hands then immediately wrapped her arms around me and planted a deep wet kiss on my lips.

Taken aback, I tried gently to pull her off, but she was having none of it. After a few moments, I actually had to grab her hands and pull away, doing my best not to hurt her. Emily, who had gotten out of the car, snickered again. "Careful Mark, you think I should call for backup?"

"Ha ha ha. Quiet you. I can handle this." I turned back to… um… Sweetie.

"No, no. I need you to get into the car, ok then?" I opened the back door, and gestured inside.

She slid inside obediently, but then, as I leant over to help her in, she grabbed my jacket and pulled me right in on top of her. For such a feminine little thing, she was certainly strong when she was determined. Once again, I had to disengage my face from her puckered lips.

Fighting off her scrambling hands and unhooking her legs from around my waist, I struggled with this little minx until finally I got out of the car, and closed the door behind me, finally trapping her inside.

I took a moment to catch my breath, and readjust my jacket, and turned around to face Emily, who had gotten out of the car and flown around behind me, to back me up. As soon as she saw me, her restrained chuckles, suddenly became full-fledged laughter. She flittered all over the place the way pixies do when they laugh.

Finally, I looked down and saw that somehow during the struggle, Sweetie had completely undone my uniform fly, and had nearly had me out of my underwear too.

Blushing, I turned away from Emily to fix my uniform, but that left me again facing the car, and Sweetie, who was licking the inside of the window. Emily was still in hysterics.

After refastening my pants, I got back into the car, and began to drive away. Emily caught up easily, flew through her window and settled into her booster seat.

"Oh, trying to get away from me, eh? Does ‘ittle bitty Markie and his baby-waby sweetie wanna be awone?"

"All right, all right, that’s enough." I suddenly noticed that Sweetie, behind us, had started crying softly. I had to keep my eyes on the road, so I glanced at Emily, who was grinning again.

"Don’t look at me, cowboy, you said you could handle this one."

I rolled my eyes and pulled over to the side of the road. I turned around to talk to Sweetie. "Ok, ok. It’ll be all right, Sweetie. We’re doing this for your own safety."

She sniffled softly, then looked up at me with some serious Bambi eyes. "Don’t you think I’m sexy?"

"What?"

"You don’t think I’m sexy!" With that, she burst completely into tears, sobbing loudly. I didn’t turn back to look, but I thought I could just hear some high-pitched laughing again.

"Oh, now, Sweetie, you’re very sexy." She sniffled again and looked up.

"I am?"

"Of course you are, but I’m a married man." She looked confused for a moment, then over at Emily.

"But I’m so much better than her. Look how much bigger my boobs are." With that, she thrust her chest at me to demonstrate. I don’t think I heard Emily laughing that time.

"No, no, not to her. My wife is at home."

"At home? I have a place like that, it’s where I fuck people, and my mistress lives there."

My eyes widened at that. I looked over at Emily, and she had caught it too.

"Your mistress? Who is that?"

"She’s the one I give my money to when men give me some. She told me to go out and find men to fuck me and give me money, so I did."

"Um, Sweetie, do you think you could show me where your Mistress lives?" Her face lit up again.

"Oh! I can do that! She will be so happy when she sees I found a new man to bring home and fuck and get money." She seemed to remember something and switched to her ‘seductive’ act again. "Especially such a big and handsome one."

We decided to have Sweetie lead us to her place, but she didn’t know the address, only how to walk there. It took some convincing before she agreed to tell us while still in the car. She felt that she could show us the way she went much better if she actually walked. Even still, we weren’t able to drive faster than about fifteen miles per hour or she would lose track of where she was. She’d give us directions like: "Turn, you know, like, that way, when you get to the big thing." Then she’d giggle.

After about ten minutes, we suddenly happened upon another outlandishly dressed woman. This one in nothing but a bra, panties, heels, and a long trench coat made of transparent plastic. Sweetie suddenly shrieked with glee and started waving frantically and pounding on the window.

"Honey! Honey! Over here, It’s Sweetie! Over here!"

The other girl, ‘Honey’ apparently, shrieked herself and minced/ran over to the car. I stopped the car and got out. Honey had been trying to talk to Sweetie through the car window, but when she saw me, I had her full attention.

Not to mention her lips.

Once again, I found myself pulling away from a frantic embrace. Almost immediately, she started to cry.

"You don’t think I’m sexy!" She sobbed. I covered my face with my hands and sighed deeply. I assured her that she was sexy, and told her that she could come with Sweetie in the car back to the house. She cheered right up, but turned stern for a moment. "Well, ok, but like, if you want both of us, you’re gonna haveta like, give us money two times."

As soon as she was in the car, she and Sweetie launched into a mile-a-minute conversation. I tried to interrupt, but it was worthless.

"Oh, Honey, it’s, like so cool to see you and stuff!"

"Oh, totally Sweetie, I mean, like usually we only see each other at home! You know, it’s like totally weird to see you in, you know, some other place."

I cleared my throat, and they ignored me.

"So, are you going to come and fuck my guy too? That is so neat, it’s like we’re sisters or something. But remember I found him first. Isn’t he cute?"

"Yeah! And he has, like, tons of lights on his car. He must be rich too."

"Excuse me, ladies?"

"Is your hair different tonight? It looks like, you know, different."

"Yeah, instead of brushing it the normal way, I did it, like, a different way. That’s probably why it looks different."

This went on and on for several minutes until I had a brainstorm. I made a little kissing noise with my lips. Instantly both girls ceased chattering and stared at me intensely. Emily laughed again.

"That’s right, Cassanova, show ‘em who’s boss!" I ignored her.

"Ok ladies, I’m sorry to interrupt your little reunion there, but we were going to the house?" Soon, we were on our way again. By the time we arrived outside a small apartment complex, we had four skimpily dressed, sex-crazed young women in the back of our patrol car, arguing about the relative pros and cons of clothes.

We took Sweetie with us, and left the other girls in the car, and they were none too pleased, let me tell you. I had to assure each and every one of them that not only were they sexy, but also that each of them was far sexier than any of the others. Fortunately, each of them believed it when I told them.

It wasn’t terribly hard to find the correct apartment. We had given up pretty quickly on getting any of the girls to remember the number. Sweetie said she just walked past all the doors until she found the right one. We soon discovered that one of the doors had a big sign with a drawing of two people having sex.

Having Sweetie with us, anxious to invite us in, neatly allowed us to enter without a warrant. If the apartment was her place of residence, she could let us in regardless what her ‘Mistress’ wanted. She knocked on the door, while Emily and I stayed just out of view. Another scantily dressed young thing answered the door, and she and Sweetie squealed with delight to see each other again after the six long hours they had spent apart. We were quickly invited in. The new girl attempted to show her hospitality, but my experiences so far had taught me a few things, and I put her off by simply saying "Later."

Emily and I entered the main room of the apartment, and saw beds everywhere. A few of them were occupied by other young women and their, ahem, clients. They noticed us fairly quickly, and the men seemed concerned. They started to put on their clothes; frustrated by the girls who began stripping them back off as fast as they dressed. A big bucket with a dollar sign on it sat on an end table. It was filled with cash. Mostly wadded up bills of various denominations.

Since the guys didn’t seem to be going anywhere too quickly, we walked farther into the apartment. "Attention, this is the police. We were invited in, and we need to talk to the owner of this apartment." There was no answer.

We finally reached the bedroom at the end of the hallway, and heard loud music from the other side. We knocked once, and opened the door. Inside, we saw a slightly overweight, thirty-something woman in a bathrobe, watching soap operas on a small television set.

She looked up at us, and her eyes widened in surprise briefly, then narrowed again into a smug grin. She stood up slowly. "May I help you, officers?"

I shot Emily a disbelieving smile, and turned back to the woman. "Yes ma’am, we met one of your, um, shall we say, roommates? We have a few questions we’d like to ask you about some of the um, activities going on here in your apartment."

"Ok sure." She looked excited at the prospect. "My business is important to me, and I certainly don’t mind talking about it. Where should I start? Oh, by the way, my name’s Sarah, Sarah Williams."

I glanced over to Emily. She crossed her arms and grinned at me. I turned back to the woman. "Well, Ms. Williams, could you perhaps describe the nature of your business to us?"

"Well, I got the idea when I turned my ex-husband into a bimbo with this spell I found online. He was always such a taker, if you know what I mean, so I decided to turn him into someone who would be more giving. I must say that when it turned him into a sex-starved young woman, I was a little surprised, but frankly, I thought it was pretty damn funny too." She chuckled a moment at the memory, then continued.

"But anyway, he, now she, was far too stupid to get a job, pay her bills, etc, and I felt that I was at least partly responsible, so I let her stay here. I noticed that just about whenever she went outside, she came back with a man and they would sleep together. This went on for a little while, and then I got a fantastic idea. Why don’t I make it into a home business? I started charging the men when they’d come back with her, and it was pretty easy, since most of them seemed like they were expecting to pay something already. Before long, I was making so much, that I was able to quit my old job at the Laundromat." Her eyes glittered with pride.

"Well, ma’am, I don’t—"

"Wait, wait!" She interrupted. "I haven’t gotten to the best part! I was making pretty good money, but then one of my girlfriends got dumped by her worthless boyfriend. I realized I could do a public service by ridding the world of this guy, and expand my business at the same time. So I went out, found some more men that were pretty worthless, and didn’t contribute anything to society, and then turn them into young women who are really pretty and sexy, but not terribly bright, and I have them find men to sleep with. They bring the men back here, and the men pay me for it. They get to have sex, I get some money, everybody’s happy. I’m saving up for a trip to Europe." She smiled with pride.

I just stood a moment in silence. Even Emily had lost her smirk, and she hovered there in disbelief. Finally, I regained my voice. "Um, ma’am, that’s certainly very impressive—"

"Thank you, officer, I’m very proud of it."

"Well, I’m sure you are, but what I was starting to say was: Surely you realize that your business is illegal in so many ways that I’m not even sure I can list all of them off the top of my head."

Her smile faded. "What?"

"I hate to be the one to break it to you here, but it’s the truth. Let’s see, ok, let’s start at the top. Do you have a Transformation License?"

"Um, well, no."

"I didn’t think so, because if you did, you’d know that the laws regarding non-consensual transforms are very strict, and from what you’ve told us so far, it doesn’t sound like a legal spell."

"But they were all bad people. Taking them off the street is a service to society!"

"Maybe so, ma’am, but I’m afraid you don’t have any legal right to make that decision. Next, we’ve got the whole "bimbo" thing. When a person of diminished mental capacity is created through magic, the caster bears a certain responsibility for the care of said person. You are providing room and board to these women, but you are also encouraging them to prostitute themselves. This is corrupting, and contributing to the delinquency of, a person of diminished mental capacity."

She apparently hadn’t considered this before, but she said nothing.

"Now, we come to providing your apartment as a location of prostitution."

"But, a hotel. I mean, some hotels charge by the hour, and you know who their clients are going to be then, and that’s legal, right?"

"That’s true ma’am, but they also have a hotel license, and an existing business with a set purpose. In addition, they do not directly profit for an illegal act. They are providing a room, not sexual activity. It’s a fine distinction, but I doubt you could really make the case that you are charging all that money out there merely for the room, and the girls are with the guys for free."

"A hotel license?"

"That’s correct. And on the subject of licenses, I don’t suppose you have been reporting all that income to the IRS, have you?"

Her eyes widened, but you could see the gears turning inside her head. "Oh officer, I’m so very sorry. I had no idea that what I was doing was illegal. Isn’t there anything I can do for you, so we can perhaps come to some kind of arrangement? Oh girls! Come in here and show the nice policeman how nice you are."

Suddenly all the women from the outer room, about five or six, rushed into the room and threw themselves at me. I was about to inform her that attempting to bribe an officer would not help their case, but soft lips interrupted me. A high pitched laughing behind me showed me that Emily was still enjoying herself as the girls began peeling off my clothes. It was a unique experience; an assault by sexy, beautiful women trying to strip me naked. I could hardly fight back effectively without hurting them, they were far too persistent.

"Mark, look out!" Emily’s laughter cut off suddenly as she called out. The girls, temporarily distracted from their assault of seduction, released me, and I sat up to see the woman lying on the ground, transforming. I looked over at Emily, puzzled by this odd turn of events. "She tried to pull her spell on you, Mark. Apparently she forgot all about me. I put a karma-counter on you before she could finish."

A karma-counter is slang for a rebound spell. It blocks an outwardly directed spell, but it also causes it to feedback and transform the caster. Because it has already bounced off the original target, generally the specific action of the spell is rebounded rather than the intent.

Apparently Ms. Williams was now getting a sex change, an IQ drop, and a libido rise. Her limbs were lengthening, and thickening while hair sprouted. Her torso filled out, hips slimmed, and soon, a strikingly handsome man sat up and looked around. A large bulge poked up, tenting the old bathrobe that Sarah Williams had been wearing. The new male reached over and examined his large erection. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke.

"Whoa."

At this point, the girls, who had apparently been staring in awe, overcame their wonder and rushed him. He was considerably more willing than I had been, and very soon, the lot of them were… well, um, enjoying each other’s company. I glanced over to Emily who was looking back with an expression of great bemusement.

"Thanks, Em. Way to stay on the ball."

"Oh, don’t mention it, the way you look right now is thanks enough for me."

I frowned in confusion, then walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I looked, well, like I had been assaulted by six young women intent on forcibly seducing me. My face was smeared with lipstick, my hair mussed, and my uniform un-tucked and disheveled.

"Better clean up in there, Loverboy. I called for another car, and they’ll be here any minute."

* * *

When the other car arrived, we pulled the young women not actively participating off of the ex-Ms. Williams. In order to separate the rest of them, we literally had to douse them with cold water. Ultimately, we decided that we couldn’t possibly transport Ms. Williams and any of the other young women in the same car. We drove our original four girls to the station while the other officers waited for a third car.

Once we dropped them off, our shift was over, so we settled into the library to fill out our arrest report. As we sat there, writing, I looked over to Emily, who was transcribing from her tiny notebook. She was giggling softly to herself as she wrote.

"You know, Em, I think that certain elements of tonight’s events don’t really need to make their way into the final report."

She looked up with a big laughing grin. "Which elements are those, Mark? The one where you hopped in the back seat with ‘Sweetie?’ Or the one where you—" She raised her voice slightly, to better announce to the room, "were incapacitated by a half dozen love-smitten sex slaves?"

"All right, that’s enough." I glanced around the room, hoping no one else had heard. "I really don’t think you want to throw any unnecessary information into that report."

"Oh?" She smiled. "And why is that?"

I smiled back. "To ensure that I’ve still forgotten all about the chipmunk incident."

She blanched and her smile dropped away. "You wouldn’t dare."

I just smiled again. Finally she smiled back.

"Ok then, Chandler. I know you’ve been saving that one up. You’ve got a deal, but now we’re even, you read me?"

"I read." I looked back down at the paperwork in front of me. "So, when we’re done here, you want to get some breakfast?" She looked uncertain. "Come on, fresh fruit, maple syrup?"

"Ooh, you sweet talker. Ok, loverboy, let’s go."

 

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