All Things to All People Ch. 03

A note to my readers. This chapter has two graphic scenes of non-sexual violence, one directed at a helpless woman. If this bothers you, be forewarned. I plan on a more extensive "what has gone on before" than normal in part 4, so you can skip this one if you wish. There is also only two sex scenes, one of which has been intentionally written to be laughable, so you won't miss much if you choose to skip it.

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What has gone on before...

Since the lab accident, Cynthia Halverston has been unable to control the impulses to have sex with the men she encounters. Even more terrifying is that she wants whatever the men most strongly desire. Thanks to her friend Dave Reston, a CT scan of her brain was taken and a friendly doctor revealed that her sense of smell has been greatly enhanced and her 'sense of self' has been dying, especially when she sleeps, forcing her to take on the self she perceived, via smell, that men wanted from her. Before she and Dave can take steps to develop a cure, they are mugged and Cynthia is kidnapped by gang bangers, who allow her, after she fulfills their sexual fantasies, to fall asleep...

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Cynthia woke up, afraid, but not sure why. Lying quietly, she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She was lying on a mattress, but not in a bed. She was aware that she was covered in dried out stuff, was it cum? There was someone snoring against her back. She felt an urgency, but was not sure what it was about. Slowly reaching down to her crotch, she felt dried sex, lots of dried sex. She wondered why she didn't stink. In fact, she was nervous about what she could smell. She remembered thinking cough drops were something important. Why?

She lay quietly, trying to organize her thoughts, remember why she was afraid. As it pieced together slowly, she was frustrated by the holes that just would not fill in. She recalled that smelling men was dangerous, that it made her their sex slave in some way. Cough drops blocked her smell, especially the ones with those vapors that cleared your sinuses. Sleep bothered her. She was sure she wasn't supposed to sleep for some reason. Then the big one hit her.

She had been kidnapped! Someone important to her had been hurt, but she could not remember his name. The assholes had used her, fucked her until it hurt. She had let them, in fact encouraged them. The smell thing, it made her want to have sex, any sex, with any man. They had taken her cough drops, leaving her helpless! But, if smell made her a sex kitten, why was she not horny now? There was a man right beside her. This was important, she knew it. So was the fact that she didn't stink. Something was on the tip of her mind, something about her nose. Aha! You get used to smells and don't notice them anymore. Like being around horses a lot. You start to not smell their shit, since you were around it all the time. She was used to the rapist's smell, so she didn't go away.

Wait, that was important. She went away for some reason. When the sex urge hit, SHE went away and someone, or something else took over. Some other part of her? Was she psycho? Did she have a second mind inside her? If only she could remember clearly! Why could she not remember? She knew there was something else important she had to remember, something that was life important. Relax. Let it come. Breathe in. Breathe out. That's it. Let it come... Let it come... Meth! She was in a meth house! Poisons! Fumes! Brain damage! She had to get out!

Almost panicking, she rolled off the mattress as quietly as she could. Damn! She was naked. Looking around, she could not see any clothes, at least none that looked like she could wear them. The room she was in was filthy. Debris littered the floor and she could see bugs scurrying to hiding places. The man moaned, reaching in his sleep for where she was. He started to wake when she was not there.

"What? Hey bitch! Come back here. You blow me."

Cynthia backed up, her back against a wall. She shook her head.

"Come on pussy. I know you like it. That all you want for two days. Come to Raull, he give you what you need."

Sliding against the wall, she backed further away, groping for something, terror on her face.

"So, you want it hard. I can do hard."

He stood, naked himself, slowly approaching her. His cock was hard, precum glistened at the tip. He leered at her, a look that she give anything to wipe off his face. Her motion put her into a corner, trapped. Terrified, she slunk down to the floor, one hand raised in front of her, the other groping at the floor. Something hard and square was there. She grasped it in hope. Raull walked up, threatening her, "You go on your knee and blow my dick, or you get fucked after you bleed."

She swung what ended up being a broke chair leg. She was aiming for his head, trying to knock him out. Not being someone who fights regularly, she missed, the jagged end ripping across his throat instead. His torn jugular splattered blood all over the wall and Cynthia's body as the shocked drug cooker staggered back, trying futilely to keep the blood from pouring out of his body. He was passed out within a minute and dead in less than three, his blood forming an expanding pool of red on the floor. Flies buzzed on his body before the last breath stopped.

Cynthia sobbed for several minutes, her fear easing out with each tear and gasp. "He had friends." She thought, as she came to her senses. "I need to get out of here. But where? I don't even know where I am. And smells. Once I leave, I'll smell someone and become their sex fantasy."

While she could remember none of her life as a scientists at this point in time, she still had the scientific mind. She went through the house, grateful that he had been alone, looking at what was available to her. She found her clothes, though they were torn in places and barely covered the things that needed covering. The bra and panties were useless, torn in all the wrong places. Empty packages of allergy medicine, lighter fluid and fix-o-flat littered the floor of the outer room. In the kitchen were dirty pots, not all of which looked like they were used to cook food. She found some pine cleaner and when she sniffed it, the blast of scent drove all other smells from her nose. "I can use this." She thought.

With clothes on, she returned to the room with the mattress and found his clothes. Rifling his pockets she found a was of bills, $227 in various denominations. Beginning to worry about the return of the others, she stuffed the bills in her pants and went to the front door, cracking it to look outside. It was dark outside, how late she did not know. She could not see anyone, but there was a 7-11 sign about a block down, "Good," she thought, "I can get some cough drops and food. God I'm hungry. He said two days. Haven't they fed me at all? One more thing before I leave."

She went back to the kitchen and tripled some bags from 7-11. Inside, she put the bottle of pine cleaner, some cans of beer she found in the fridge and can of generic chili. She took a dishrag and soaked it in pine cleaner, tying it around her neck. The pine fumes invaded her nose, bringing water to her eyes. But, she could smell nothing else, and that was good. Prepared as well as she could, she went back to the door, saw the coast was clear, and walked out, heading for 7-11.

She thought she went unnoticed, but eyes from across the street watched her. Two cops on stake out evaluated her appearance and concluded 'hooker' finishing a job at the suspected meth house. By the time they would realize their mistake, Cynthia would be gone, leaving the murder of the cook an unsolved crime, though in all honesty, no one in the department would assign much importance to the death of a meth head at the hands of a hooker he tried to rough up.

Cynthia walked into the convenience store, looking like something the cat had upchucked. It spoke volumes about where she was that no one gave her more than a second look. The clerk, a 6 foot 6 inch tall man with a slight paunch and sporting a tazer and collapsible billy club (all in violation of official 7-11 policy, but with the approval of the store owner) kept an eye on her, planning on calling the cops if she tried to buy any cold medicine.

On a mission, Cynthia headed for the medicine aisle and grabbed every package of cough drops that had eucalyptus in it. She resisted the urge to open one right away. She knew she was not the most trustable looking soul right now. Dumping them on one of the unused counters, she headed for the food section and picked up some more chili, the super hot stuff, some energy drinks and a can opener. Back at the counter, she waited in line behind two guys. She noticed that the clock said 4:17. Early morning.

A woman walked in, only slightly more dressed than Cynthia, only in her case it looked on purpose. "How ya doin Mark. Zapped any gangies this week?"

"Nah, I think they're catching on. How was your night Gloria?"

"Two lays, two blows and a fetish. I may take tomorrow off. I can't believe that guys will pay $50 just to smell my panties. And people call me a perv."

"Well you are a perv, but you're a good perv."

They both laughed at the lame joke and Gloria fixed herself a big bowl of nachos with gobs of condiments on it. She got into line behind Cynthia, noticing her for the first time. Gloria knew this look. The poor girl had a bad trick and got herself beat up.

"Yo girl, what happened to you?!"

Cynthia jumped, scared that someone had paid notice to her. "Nothing."

"Don't give me nothing. You're a mess and someone's put you through the wringer. And you covered in blood girl. And that pine isn't hiding the stink either. You got a place to crash?"

"Uh... no."

"You're new ain't you. I can tell. No sense that God gave a bitch. Sister, you got to be careful about who you go with. Some guys, they as soon cut you as fuck you."

"Gloria, watch the language."

"Sorry Mark. Listen girl, you want or need to hook, you got to learn to be safe. Have a place to crash. Pick your johns careful like. Avoid the pimps if you can. You can't do that, don't start baby. And girl, stay off the shit. It'll eat up your dough, leave you worse off. If you want to crash, go to Sister Anne's place. You be clean and not turn em while you there, she ask no questions and give you three square ones a day. You know where she is."

Cynthia's mouth hung open. She had never heard someone go on like that. She would have needed a crow bar to get a word in edge wise. Now that there was a lull, she didn't know what to say. She just shook her head.

"I didn think so. I'll take you there. I won' stay, got no use for her preachin. But she be good people, she get you cleaned up. Mark, I'll get her stuff. And get her two of those dogs. You like dogs? Good. They'll fill you up. God girl, you got a cough problem? I ain't heard no cough from you."

"Sinuses. Bad sinuses."

"Yeah I hear you. They're good for getting the taste out of your mouth after a blow too, if you know what I mean, no matter its rubber taste or his. Where's your rubbers? You ain't been doin them bare for regular have you." Cynthia's embarrassed look was taken as a yes. "God girl, make em pay extra. If you goin to risk some shit assed disease... yeah, I know, watch the language... you should make plenty on it. Five times normal is my price and if they don't look clean, it ain't happening, know what I mean? What you chargin them, anyway?"

Cynthia looked up sheepishly. She had never encountered, at least as far as she could remember, someone so energetic and forceful. She just knew that 'no' was not an option to this woman. And, besides the understandable assumption that she was a hooker, the woman, Gloria, was being extremely nice to her. This Sister Anne sounded like just what she needed, a safe place to try to remember things. Not knowing what to say, she pulled out the wad of cash and showed it to the gregarious hooker.

"Damm girl. You sellin yourself short. You got to put value on what's you got. If they could get it at home, they wouldn't be looking for us, now would they. We got to set you right, if you goin to keep at it." All through the soliloquy, Mark had rang things up and Gloria paid the $54 charge with a $100, stuffing the non-twenties in the Jerry's Kids box. Come on girl. Let's get you to where you can clean up. Now, if you want to make it, charge enough to be worth it for you and not enough to scare them away. Me, I charges $50 for a blow, you know what a blow is? Good. $100 for a lay, and a short blow to get them up is part if that. If they wants to team up, I charge each full price and another full price for each in the team. So a pair that want one blown while the other screws, is charged $50 plus $100 plus $150, or $300 total. Pairs are hard work, get paid for it. And remember this girl, if you remember nothing else I tell ya, get the money up front. No pay, no play. Once they got what they want, they ain't goin to pay up and maybe even hurt you if you ask afters. You got that, money first, always. You planning on doin kinks?"

Cynthia though about her condition and figured it might be best to know something about them. "Maybe, I don't know yet."

"Damm girl, I was wonderin if you could talk. Kinks are hard. If it be a fetish thing, like maybe the guy wants to just lick you feet. Don't laugh, your best regulars will be the fetishes and the feet guys can give you a foot rub that is heaven on earth. Remembers, we on our feet a lot. Anyway, I charges fetishes $50. Ass men, I charge them $250 unless they be real big, then they pays $500. It hurts back there and the big ones can lay you up for days. I hopes you ain't planning on taking any bondage freaks on. They be dangerous. Once they tie you up, you have no say in what they do. I don't do them, but Sylvia does and she charges $2500 up front, deposited before they starts and the guys ID left with someone until she get back. The ones that like to be tied, they have Lady Heather's, so you won't see them. If you do, run, they is settin you up hard. You go with someone who wants you to tie them, you never be seen again, you hear me?"

Cynthia nodded. She was so into following Gloria's patter that the male voice ahead startled her. "Yo Gloria. You got a new one for me?"

"Back off Harold. I don't bring no one for your stable. You on your own. This one's not for you. I be takin her to Anne's."

"What you go and do that for. Clear she is a whore that need my protection. You know I protect my girls."

"And take all their money. Harold, you be a pimp and a bad one at that. You keep your hands off this one. She don't need to be tradin johns that beat her for a pimp that beat her. You hear me?"

"Back off bitch. You can't protect her forever. She be back on the street, then she have to choose, protection or hurting. They always go for protection."

"I didn't, and she won't either. There be something about her that tells me you get more than you bargain for with her. Do yourself a favor and stay away."

During the exchange, Cynthia was aware that the loudly dressed black man was incredibly sexy looking. She could tell his cock was huge and she wondered what it would feel like stuffed down her throat. "Oh no," she panicked, "it's starting. The pine cleaner. It's all gone from the rag." She reached into her bag and ripped open a cough drop package, popping the lozenge and breathing in the sharp smell of the eucalyptus. Checking her thoughts, she noticed that Harold was dressed loudly, stank of cigarettes and was a jerk. She breathed a sigh of relief.

As the pimp moved on, Gloria pointed to a warehouse, "This is it girl. Sister Anne's House for Women in Trouble. Inside those doors, you can be as safe as you need to be for as long as you want. You take care. If you decide to trick, come by 37th and axel. That's my corner and I'll show you some of the tricks of the trade." Gloria laughed at her own joke.

"Gloria, Why..." Cynthia couldn't finish the question, it seemed too rude.

"Why's a whore like me helping a total stranger?"

Cynthia nodded her head.

Gloria's face got serious, the most serious she had seen. "Ten years ago, someone helped me out of the blue. I's alive today because of someone I never saw again and never knew the name of. So I decide to be different that most whores and keep on caring. It's not easy. Easy is to hook up with one of the Harolds and let yourself go hard and dead inside. It ain't worth it though. You know you alive when you know you can be hurt. You remember that girl. The hurt is good, you ain't dead if you can hurt. Bye now. I hope you don't come to see me. I don't know if hookin is what you should be at. Git inside, the Sister take good care of you." Gloria wandered off, to where, Cynthia had no idea.

Turning to look at the shelter, it didn't look like much on the outside, just a warehouse with a single door under a faded sign. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open and stepped inside. It was like entering a different world. She was standing in a foyer, painted in soft pleasant colors. Some music was playing in the distance and she could smell something cooking, even through the strong scent of the Halls in her mouth. The door struck a bell as it closed, creating a soft ringing. As she stood, wondering where to go, footsteps and a woman, dressed in a traditional nun's habit turned the corner.

"Welcome to our sanctuary. My name is Sister Anne, but you can call me Anne. Are you seeking shelter?"

Cynthia could feel respect being pulled from her, as if it was unthinkable to disrespect such a lady. "Yes Ma'am, at least I think so."

"Then come in, please. By the looks of things, you've had a hard time. Is the blood yours?"

Cynthia looked down, seeing that she had never put shoes on and the blood from the meth cook was on her feet, as well as the rest of her. "No, I don't think so."

"Good. I'm not going to ask where it came from, not my place. If you hurt someone, the Lord will deal with you in his own way and time. Is that everything you have?" she said, pointing to the sacks.

"Yes, at least I don't remember anything else."

"Let's get you in and cleaned up. Elizabeth!" she called out in a surprisingly loud voice. "We'll have to trash those clothes, they're beyond repair. We have some you can look through and take, though we only have enough for a single pair. Liz will show you where to put your things and where the showers are. We don't have a bath, I'm afraid. Once you're looking like you might live through the next five minutes, we'll talk. Ah, there you are Elizabeth. Take this lady to the bunk room, let her stow her belongings and then get her cleaned up and in some clothes from the locker. Then bring her to my office."

"Yes Sister." Replied the young girl. She couldn't possibly be more than 16, tops, yet she seemed very sure of herself and knew just where everything was. "Only Sister Anne calls me Elizabeth, you can call me Liz." Entering a large room with a couple of dozen beds, she went to whispering, "This is the bunk room, it's where you'll sleep at night. Here's only five of here now, so you have your choice, pretty much. Which do you want?"

Cynthia took the bed farthest from the ones with sleeping forms in them, setting her stuff on them, looking at the others nervously.

"Don't worry, no one will take your stuff. This way is the showers. We're lucky to have a huge hot water heater, donated by a restaurant when they upgraded. No way you'll run out of hot water. Take as long as you want to get cleaned up. I'll put a box of clothes out that are your size, pick the outfit you like. When you're done, get me from the third room on the left and I'll take you to see the Sister."

"Uh, why haven't you asked..." Cynthia seemed to be asking all the rude questions.