The Wilds of Womanhood: A MTF Transgender Gender Swap Adventure Bundle by Lexi Twist

Author:Lexi Twist [Twist, Lexi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Knotty Press
Published: 2023-04-02T22:00:00+00:00

3.

“‘Ello, ‘ello,” says Lucy in a heavy cockney accent which Donald suspects might be a put-on for out-of-towners. She strolls in the room in a pair of short-cut jean shorts and a pink t-shirt with sequins spelling the words ‘Devil’s Angel.’ She blows a bubble with her chewing gum. She’s got pink highlights in her hair, something she didn’t have in her profile picture and they make her look even more juvenile, as do the red Chuck Taylors.

“Hi,” says Donald, wondering whether this was a good idea. He supposes that her outfit is better than the negligee that he was imagining she would come in wearing. Less conspicuous by comparison. But this outfit is perhaps meant to attract men who want, but cannot have, fifteen-year-old girls.

Lucy takes a seat on the bed and swings one leg over the other.

“Fix me a drink then, love?”

“Will that be a cuppa?” Donald says in his bad imitation of her cockney accent. Lucy is not amused.

“Gin and tonic, if you have it.”

Donald goes over to the hotel mini-fridge and pulls out a tiny bottle of gin.

“No tonic, I’m afraid.”

“Gin’s close enough, thanks.”

Donald takes the little paper dust cover off the glass and pours the small bottle's meager contents inside. He hands it to her and she accepts it. He notices that he's got French-tipped fingernails.

"You in town for business or pleasure?" she asks.

“I’m not really sure anymore,” Donald says absently.

“Well, maybe we can make it a little of both,” Lucy says, taking a big gulp from her glass. Donald thinks about how trusting this young woman has to be to come to his hotel room without knowing a thing about him. And to do it as a matter of routine. He thinks of Agnes McCreedy, the Butcher’s third victim, a prostitute from the East End who was found with her throat cut and her entrails splayed out.

“You’re shiverin’” Lucy says.

“Am I?” Donald says.

“What are you lookin’ for tonight, Guvna?”

Donald takes a tequila bottle from the mini-fridge, uncaps it.

“I just don’t want to be alone tonight. I can’t be.”

"Come over and sit next to me," Lucy says, patting the bed beside her. Donald does as he's told. He feels the weight of something heavy on his shoulders and he wishes he could identify why it's there. Those deaths took place more than a hundred years ago. They belong to another time. So, why does he have dreams where he's being chased by the killer? How he asks himself, do I get free of this torment?

“You alright?” Lucy asks, touching his shoulder. He takes a deep pull from the tiny tequila bottle, practically draining it in one gulp.

“Yeah,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’m not a psycho or anything.”

“You don’t do this a lot, do you?”

“How could you tell?” Donald says, giving a weak smile.

"Not to worry, love. I specialize in first-timers."

“It’s not my first time,” he says.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re with me now, and I’m gonna do it all for ya. Alright?”

Before Donald can answer, she is climbing on top of him.

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