Chapter 2

Another night patrol, this is number 5 this week. I had not planned on it, but after a half hour trying to masturbate with little success as Chris I was still restless and decided to change and head out. Some night air might do me some good. I had gone upstairs at just after 7, and could not get off, and was so worked up I knew I had to do something.

I was back in the heart of Darktown again, but this time on foot. One advantage of being a Chameleon, I did not have to bother with any kind of disguise. My black leather outfit was functional, and I didn’t need to hide my face. Bo was a fairly common sight in the neighborhood, I did not spend all my time jumping off of roofs like Batman after all.

It was just after 8, so I decided to grab something to eat. One advantage of being Bohica, I could eat huge meals, and as Chris I never gained weight. I am not sure how it all works, but it does. I once spent 2 weeks eating only as Chris, and Bo had no ill effects. I then did the same thing as Bo, and Chris felt no ill effects either. Once I even went a week without eating in either form. I got more and more hungry, and it did start to get uncomfortable but I did not lose my energy level. I did not even seem to suffer much if I did not eat for days on end, but it was not a comfortable feeling. So now I just accepted it.

I popped into a place I had passed by many times, but not tried yet. It was a small diner towards the end of a black, and an as painted in their window offered “Chicken Fried Steak & Mashed Potatoes” for $7, so I decided to give it a try. Several customers gave me a thumbs up as I went in and waited for the waitress. I was not a major Paladin, but to these people I was their Paladin. I had spent years in crafting my role. Friendly, gentle (unless provoked), and kind to everybody. But God save the person who deals drugs or hurts others when I am around.

That’s me, your friendly neighborhood Bohica.

And I guess I should not have been surprised when the waitress came up, and it was Gloria. She smiled and skipped over to give me a hug, kissing my cheek and thanking me again. I blushed, and said I was just there for some dinner. She grinned, and walked me to my seat.

As she took me to a booth, I found myself admiring how her hips swayed as she led me there. Yep, she was crossing one foot slightly in front of the other as she was walking, she was doing this on purpose! The little minx, too bad for her I’m not a lesbian. Chris was getting nothing out of this, but as Bohica I was. I even felt a stiffening below the waist. Damn, but she had a fine ass and hips.

I ordered the special and a large soda, and thought about that while I waited for my food. In some ways, I was, and was not a lesbian. As Bohica, I had no question that male urges were there. As Bi, wanted pussy without a doubt. Sitting here, I found I was almost unable to look at a guy and imagine sinking under the table to blow him. The idea of taking a cock in my mouth almost disgusted me. But the Chris part of me hiding in the back of my mind did think such things sometimes.

And it was interesting, in that Chris and I were both the same person, and very different people. Bohica was a virgin, and while Chris was not a slut, she was not really virginal either. Chris had started making out with guys at 15, and shortly after 16 had let Scott Cohen into her Holy of Holies. I ran through the number of guys since then, and came up with over 5 but under 10.

10 guys that Chris had taken into at least one part of her body or another. In fact, over half of her encounters had been like the night with Paul. Blowing them in their car, or somewhere else they could get alone for 5 minutes or so. To be blunt, Chris loved sucking cock, as I had not even had mine held by another.

And seeing Gloria’s swaying ass, then her pert boobs under the top of her waitress dress, I felt the blood race to my cock. As Chris, I had no interest at all in other women. But as Bo, I often found myself wondering what it would be like to sink myself fully into somebody like her. Nice hips, a butt that stuck out a bit more than Chris’ bottom. Small firm tits, probably a B cup. I would find myself considering how it would feel to bend her over the counter and plunge into her from behind, holding that lovely waist in my hands as I rammed her over and over again. The way Chris liked to be rammed.

Yea, sexuality wise I was a real mess. Which is why I often made good use of the towel whenever I came home from a patrol. And remembering holding that cock and pumping it in my hand and making it spurt also helped me as Chris later in relieving other tensions. But at least as Chris I was at least getting laid again. All I had as Bo was myself.

The food was delicious, and Gloria was doing her best to try and get me interested in her. She stood next to me as I ate, occasionally resting her hand on the back of mine, or on my shoulder. She even bumped her hip against mine as I walked towards the bathroom, and whispered “Let me know if you need any help in there.” Thankfully, all the plumbing works properly, and I admit it is a lot easier to pee standing up than having to sit down as I had always done before that night. But harder to pee when the damned thing was half-hard as it was now.

Another advantage that men had. I could stick most of my body basically into a urinal, and just let it go. No real need to aim myself anywhere. And even if I sprayed a bit, all of the urine was captured in the porcelain and did not make a mess.

Gloria tried to refuse payment, but I insisted. One thing about Bo, I never accept anything for free. I pay for everything I buy, and never accepts gifts. Other than a few, which sit on shelves or hang in my bunker. Like a sweater that one lady made after I had rescued her son from a drunk driver. Or another, which was a painting of me saving a little girl from a burning house, painted by that same 6 year old girl.

Those kinds of gifts are priceless.

Gloria’s hand lingered a bit in mine as she handed me my change and receipt, and she blew me a small kiss as I headed out. I was about to toss it in the trash, when I noticed that she had written a phone number on the back.

I shoved it into my pocket and turned into an alley and climbed to the top of the store next to the cafe. And I thought about it, and what I should do.

As Bohica I’m a virgin, other than by my own hand. Occasionally I even cheat on my right hand by making love to my left hand. But that is the extent of my sex life. And having handled a fair number of cocks, Chris knew very well that it was an exceptionally nice one. Over 2 inches thick, which Chris admitted would probably be a strain to take it all inside of herself. And as Bo there was not only a package of an impressive girth, but also an almost frightening length.

Once Chris had even found a cucumber of the approximate size and with a lot of lube and fingering tried to take it in, and gave up. It was simply too big for her small white pussy to hope to take in.

“Dammit” I muttered to myself, realizing that I now had a first class hard-on. Fading away from the edge of the building and looking around, I pulled open my pants and fished my cock out. Continuing to watch the street, I started skinning my snake for about 5 minutes, giving a soft hiss as I climaxed, sending cum jetting onto the roof. My eyes were on the road, but my mind was on Gloria.

Using my fingers to wipe up the remainder from the tip of my cock, I felt a slight shiver as the part of Chris that was always there in mind wished Bo would lick my fingers clean, because she enjoyed the taste.

I looked down again after putting my cock away and saw that the cafe was dark, and three people were outside the door locking up. Bo admired Gloria’s body as she reached up and pulled down the rolling door before the cook locked it. Then with waves they each headed their own ways home.

Hardly even thinking about it, I stepped back a bit and ran, jumping to the next roof. I followed Gloria, admiring how her bottom looked as she walked her way home. And I could hear her whistling a Stevie Wonder song as she made her way, obviously trying to stay in well lit areas. It struck me as kind of odd she would be whistling “Pastime Paradise”, as the song was much older than she was. But I could not fault her taste in music.

She paused a moment near Bassinger Way, but kept going 1 more block. Then she turned again, and after doing 2 more blocks turned back to Bassinger. Smart girl, she has learned to avoid that route.

For the last 2 blocks the businesses had given way to individual houses, so I was now carefully following her on the road. Keeping to the shadows, nobody saw me as I watched her bottom sway as she went up the 4 steps into a white house and unlocked the door.

With a soft sigh, I headed back home. This time, once was not enough. After jacking off and showering, I could not stop myself from masturbating again, to the image of Gloria doing her runway strut in front of me at the cafe. And as more spurts went into the towel, I was wondering how her nipples would feel in my mouth. Were they small and dainty, or big and thick?

Finally I was back in my bed as Chris, my legs spread as I was remembering how Mark’s cock felt as it pulsed and spurted inside of me and I was finally able to reach my own orgasm. The one that had been denied to me earlier, and caused me to hit the street in the first place. With a contented sigh, I used a tissue to wipe my fingers and pussy then curled up and drifted to sleep.

The next day I was sitting in the shop, considering my powers. One thing I had learned early on, is that I could not go to sleep as Bohica. I had tried it a great many times over the years, once even getting a sleep buzzer like truck drivers use to wake myself up the moment I fell asleep.

And even if I dozed off for just a fraction of a second, I always awoke as Chris. This was one of the things that meant that Bohica could never be my “real” life. No matter what. Because if Bo ever became intimate with a woman as Bo, he would have to take off afterwards. Not daring to risk falling asleep.

But other than that, there was no compulsion to ever be one or the other. The only intrusion as Chris was that I had to keep my temper in check at all times. If I ever got really angry, there was always a chance that Bo would pop out. As he had done that first time in the park so long ago. Thankfully this had never repeated, but more than once (like when my last boyfriend over 2 years ago threatened to “Smack some sense into me”) I had to suddenly will myself to calm and simply get away or I would lose control.

But sometimes I wondered if maybe I should have let him. And then let myself as Bo teach him a lesson about hitting women he would never forget. No court would have convicted me if I had done so, but my secret would have been forever busted.

Jared, that prick was the last one who almost made that happen. We met up at a club, I had more than my share to drink, and we ended up doing it in one of the bathrooms. We were together for about three months, and even then I knew it was mostly about sex. He would almost fuck me bowlegged, and I think he liked me as eye candy.

But then he wanted me to dress in more of a “slutty” manner, and I was not comfortable with doing that. I was at his place, and he told me he had bought me a dress he wanted me to wear that night. Now it was flattering he bought me something, but not that he expected me to wear it just for that reason. And it was see-through! Thin black fabric, it would have hid nothing.

I refused, he got mad and tried to order me, I flat out refused. He told me to grow up and wear the thing, it would make me hot. I did not like the implication that I would not be hot otherwise, and that is when he got right into my face and said that. It was all I could do in order to NOT have Bo come out and “Smack some sense into him”. In the end, I said he could wear it by shoving it up his ass and left.

I only felt a little bad that night when during a patrol to calm down, I threw a Pitbull into a wall harder than expected and sent him to the hospital. And even though I did not miss Jared, I did miss his cock.

The chime of the door broke me from my wondering as the mailman came in. Looking at one of the mailers, it seems that Darktown was going to have a street festival in a month, and they were asking for vendors to set up booths. It was going to be the 100 year anniversary of Cynthia Dark establishing the Girl’s Home that was the foundation of the city.

Cynthia Dark was the widowed daughter of one of the founders of Compass City, and her husband was reported to have been involved in criminal dealings and achieved even more fame and fortune. Then after he died “in the saddle” with one of the 16 year old girls at the sweatshop he owned, she sold it all off.

The urban legend is that the girl he died with in his office was in the “family way”. And when she went to Mrs. Dark-Jacobs, instead of threatening her or simply dismissing the frightened girl, Mrs. Cynthia Dark-Jacobs took her into her house and helped care for her. Within a few months 4 other of the young seamstresses who had worked for her late husband arrived. All in the same condition, and claiming he was the father. And by this time she stopped using her hyphenated name and went only by her maiden name.

And soon the “Dark Home for Girls” was founded. The mansion her husband had built at great expense within a decade was the home for over 100 girls and young women. The rose gardens were plowed under and became a dairy, and the girls worked there. Taking care of the cows, and selling the dairy products produced. It continued to grow, and had become known as “Darktown”. An appellation that was only added to when it became known that Mrs. Dark would allow any young female to live there, so long as she was of good moral character and willing to work. Hispanics, Asians, even “Coloreds” were all allowed, given an education, and taught to be upstanding women and mothers.

They did try to keep it going after she died in 1935. There was a board of directors which were almost all females, but there were things outside of their control that ultimately killed things. World War II was looming, and the War Department was already expanding the military. And in late 1940, the land was condemned and slated to be turned into a training camp for the National Guard.

The board had the last laugh though. By that time Mrs. Dark’s brother-in-law had become a member, and he was trying to force them to split up the money from the government among her heirs and that of her husband. Which meant him, his wife, and their 2 kids. They however said that the mission had to continue, and donated the money to the local Catholic Church so they could expand a small orphanage across the river to take over their mission to help young women.

After the war, the land was declared surplus, and sold off as it was now no longer in the country, but right on the edge of the growing Compass City. And in honor of that, it was named “Darktown”.

Although the home was long gone, a rundown shopping mall now occupied the land where it once stood. But the community still honored its founder and the name, even if most outsiders simply thought it was a slang term for the ghetto and not the name of the actual founder.

Making a mark on my calendar, I decided that maybe setting up a booth would be a good idea. Chris’ Crafts was not needed for the money, Bohica’s stipend, the insurance payments, and the bank money had literally set me up for life. But I did still need it as a cover, and this is the type of thing a small business at my level would do.

Picking up the phone I called Mark, and told him about the festival. Yes, we could probably get booths next to each other. And since he had no event scheduled that weekend he would think of something to serve that would be appropriate.

We chatted a bit longer, and made plans for dinner tomorrow night. Humming to myself, I handled a few more customers until closing time. Then taking my yarn and crochet needle upstairs I decided a night of working on a sweater while watching some mindless TV would be a good break.

That night, the dream was again of Gloria. Gloria was lying on her back on a canopy bead, thighs spread wide as I was eating her out. But it was not Bo licking her pussy and sucking on her protruding clit, it was Chris! It was Chris with 3 fingers deep inside of her, and plunging in and out of her cunt as Gloria’s clit stiffened and she whined as she came. Those were Chris’ fingers she clenched inside of her.

I woke in a sweat, my body covered with the wet clamminess. And my cunt was soaking wet, and my nipples were so hard they almost hurt. I started to reach down, and instead pulled up my nightie and tossed it onto the ground, willing myself into Bohica.

Reaching down I wrapped both hands around my cock and started stroking it. Imagining plunging my tongue into Gloria, my cock leaked even more as I felt my orgasm get closer. I then wondered how it would feel to shove my cock into her tight pussy, feeling it squeeze me as I shoved myself in and out of her. Whimpering “Gloria”, I came so hard the first spurts struck me in the face, as did the second and third ones. With the remainder painting a trail down to my lower belly.

I laid there in a daze for about 10 minutes, until I jerked awake a few moments later as Chris. I then spent several minutes masturbating again, fingers sliding in and out of myself and squeezing my tits with my other hand before I finally had my own orgasm.

With a sigh, I then got up and headed for the shower. After the shower, I laid out my dress for that night then decided to explore the streets where the festival would be.

After parking and with flier in hand, I started walking the 8 blocks where the booths would all be set up. And it appeared that the ideal spot to set up was actually across the street from Carl’s Cafe, where Gloria worked. It was also the spot on the map where the food booths would give way to regular retailers. I circled the boxes on the map and got out my phone.

15 minutes later, I had the reservations down, exactly where I wanted them. I had the 2 spots side by side, so Mark and I could take turns helping each other out if needed. I then called one of the members of the “Knitting Circle” who regularly hung out at the shop and was got an enthusiastic response to my request to help run things when I saw a tall girl walking up the street.

There was more than a 1 foot difference between Chris and Bo, and it always made me blink to realize that what was short to him, was tall for me. Bo thought of Gloria as “Short”, being only 5’8”. But to Chris, it took a moment to realize that the tall girl was indeed Gloria.