Waifu Royale 2.0 winner #4 :: Golden :: (Patreon)

You can read the story and see the illustrations here for free.

Here's the winning prompt:

Mrs. Lange goes to the staff area in search of something to do, and finds a lone staff member changing clothes. She's surprised to find that it's a young man crossdressing as a waitress. She takes him upstairs to her room and dresses him up in her old clothes and gently femdoms him.

I am really happy with how this one came out. I had a lot of fun with Mrs. Lange.

Another night, another fundraiser...

How would it be? To live without so many rules? God, she was becoming maudlin. Mrs. Lange spent the required two hours mingling in the ballroom, making way for her husband's shmoozing. She played her role. They made a good team.

So why did it feel like there was a band of steel tightening around her chest? No, not a band of steel... A finely made, bespoke golden threaded corset she was born into and never quite dared to take off. It felt comfortable at one point... But now? At the ugly side of fifty, she did not know anymore.

Some nights she could hardly take a breath. Once again, there she was, hiding in a secluded room, in her own house; fighting a losing fight against melodrama.

She needed to move. So, she roamed the mansion, like an overdramatic Victorian ghost, but one without a tragic secret. Just boredom and wealth. Still, maybe she could haunt somebody... Maybe Heinrich? Her husband could do with a good haunting... But that would mean going back out there, amongst the crowd. 

The golden threads dug into her skin.

Faint, distant sounds of conversation and glasses clinking chased Mrs. Lange into a door to a staff area. It should be empty of people tonight, the party located in another wing. Grey floor tiles on white walls, simple and efficient. She passed empty kitchens and store rooms trying to imagine herself working inside. She took a deep breath, taking in the smell of cleaner.

Dear Lord, she was fantasizing about being working class... Was she really this out of touch? 

A sound caught her attention. Somebody shuffling around in a room ahead. A waiter slacking off? Maybe a young couple sneaked out for a little tryst? Excited Mrs. Lange pushed open the doors.

"Occupied!" Came a startled cry. What an odd thing to yell outside of a bathroom.

It was a locker room. A sole young woman was standing in the corner, trying to cover herself up, her face flushed and panicked. Mrs. Lange caught her in the middle of taking off her white button up shirt, her arms tangled up in the sleeves. Her bra was exposed and... Padded with silicone?

"Oh, excuse me..." Mrs. Lange said, but she did not leave. This person was not supposed to be here. "But you're in the wrong part of the house."

"I'm sorry! I just- I'll go!" The young woman said, as she flailed with her clothes.

"We do offer accommodations for trans members of staff, just speak to Marcia." Mrs. Lange said. "I'd rather you did not roam my house in search of a corner to change in..."

"Oh, that's not it- I'm not tr-" The young lady said, before she stopped herself. "I mean, yes. I did not know! Sorry!"

Mrs. Lange felt growing excitement seeing this little intruder's fretting. Something was off here... She could smell it. She closed the doors and leaned on them. 

"What do you mean, 'I'm not-'... You're not what?" She asked. The young lady squirmed, seemingly paralyzed with indecision, a stupid smile plastered on her face.

"You're not what?" Mrs. Lange asked again, as she stepped towards her. "Whatever you say next, understand that I do not tolerate liars."

The girl pressed herself into a locker and slid down, landing her butt on a bench. Mrs. Lange towered over her, hands on her hips, waiting for the response.

Finally, after a long pause, the dam broke. "I'm not trans. I just... Damn it! My friend was supposed to work tonight, but she couldn't make it so I subbed in but... They wanted a waitress and..." The young... Man spoke quickly, as he freed his arms from the sleeves. "I thought that... I could pull it off and- I needed the money- so... But everybody was looking at me and I just- I just knew they could tell and- and now I am here and you caught me and I am done."

Mrs. Lange tried to recall if she'd seen this particular waitress out on the ballroom floor. Young and blonde, with curly, messy hair tied in a high ponytail, with two locks of hair framing a rather pretty face. The makeup was a tad amateurish but... Not enough to stand out. She would have been tall, not overtly so, slender and a bit awkward, but in an appealing way. A young woman who did not yet fully grow into her beauty... No, Mrs. Lange did not notice this young man's deception at all... And she suspected the 'looks' he got were more appreciative than suspicious.

Now, he was looking up at her with those big blue eyes and she could not help but laugh. Crossdressing at an event like this? What a deranged thing to do! "What is your name?" She asked the foolish little boy.

"Oliver..." He said with a sad laugh. "So... Can I convince you not to call the cops?"

"Why would I ever do that? Right now you are guilty of... Slacking off. That is between Marcia and you. Let's not involve the government," Mrs. Lange said. The hopeful look on Oliver's face made her heart beat faster.

"How about this... I will call Marcia and tell her that I asked you to do something for me... She'll pay you for the night." Mrs. Lange said as a decision was made, somewhere between her heart, mind and other regions.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you... I swear this is the last time I'll do this.. This was... A very stupid idea..." Oliver said, relief sapping tension from his body. He leaned back against the locker, the open shirt exposing more of his rather lovely chest.

"Yes... You're welcome." Mrs. Lange said not quite able to move her eyes away. "However... I do not feel comfortable letting you loose in my house... Would you care to join me upstairs? I am curious to hear more about your... Adventure."

Oliver blinked and seemed at a loss of words. Silence stretched between them. Mrs. Lange tried not to let her disappointment show on her face. "Very well... I'll leave you to it. I will call Marcia and let her know that I stole one of her waitresses for the night..." She said and turned to leave. "I will show you to the door."

"Wait! I... I did not say no..."

Her heart was beating fast, filling her limbs with a nervous tingling energy as she led Oliver to her private rooms on the third floor. She called Marcia on the way and made up some story about stealing a waitress to help her organise her plants, or some such nonsense. They both knew that she just wanted an excuse to not come back to the ballroom. 

And just like that, "Amanda" was hers for the night.

"So... Amanda? Is that your name right now?" She asked him, as they ascended the stairs.

"It is tonight!" He said with a nervous laugh.

"Would you prefer I call you that?" 

Oliver coughed and shrugged. "Whatever you want... Ms...?"

"Mrs. Lange." She said, stressing the Mrs. part. Oliver nodded nervously.

How cute.

Oliver gasped softly as she led him into her bedroom, his eyes roaming over her four poster bed, a question hiding in them. Should she have dashed his hopes? Maybe... But it was more fun to leave him wondering. And besides, she was considering it.

Her and Heinrich had an understanding- another thread of gold woven around her throat. She never asked him for details, but she knew he had affairs, which she did not begrudge him. It is simply how it worked in their circles. She'd taken advantage herself once or twice.

"Wow... Oh my God..." Oliver whispered when he followed her into the dressing room. She tried to see it through his eyes.

A treasure trove, filled with fine clothes and jewelry. It was large and circular, the dark wood-paneled walls lined with cabinets and racks laden with all sorts of finery. A semi-circle of benches and small couches crowded the middle, all facing a large floor to ceiling mirror set in a far wall.

Oliver stood inside that semi-circle, spinning in place, eyes darting between all the dresses and accessories on display. Mouth half open, flush on his cheeks, stars in his eyes. She almost saw the golden thread weave its way around his pretty neck.

"Would you like to try something on?" Mrs. Lange asked.

"Right fuck I-" He said before he stopped himself. "Ahem! Yes. I would."

Mrs. Lange put a hand on his lower back and led him to a rack of dresses. She leaned in and whispered into his ear. "I get clothes sent to me all the time... Samples and such. Most don't even come close to fitting me. The ones on this rack should be your size..."

Oliver shivered and faltered in his step. My, he was so teasable Mrs. Lange could hardly contain herself. He was not exactly shy, but there was an awkwardness to him. A young fawn unsure of his strength. 

"Then... I'll just- I'll just browse a bit." Oliver said. He browsed in silence, once in a while pulling out a dress or a top and touching it reverently, before hanging it back up. He became so absorbed in what he was doing, Mrs. Lange could not help but screw with him.

"So... Is it a sex thing? The crossdressing?" She asked.

Oliver almost fell over at her question. He clutched a dress in front of himself- a simple sleeveless off white evening number with a high neck that she thought would look amazing on him- and stumbled over himself to respond. "No! No it's- It's- I just like clothes- and... Men's fashion is just so limited.."

"Oh really?" Mrs. Lange said, pretending she believed him. "How did it start?"

He coughed and tried to put the dress back onto the rack, but Mrs. Lange scooped it out of his hands and held it. She cocked an eyebrow at him and asked. "Well? How did it start?"

"An... My ex-girlfriend asked me to dress up for her... She was... Into that." Oliver said, not looking at her.

Now... That was interesting. And so was the young man's blush. Oh she was into that, wasn't she? And he, of course, merely went along with it. Mrs. Lange stepped closer to him, close enough to feel his body heat.

"And so... The girlfriend may be gone... But the interest remained? Do I understand it right?" She said, letting some of the heat she felt seep into her words.

"Yeah." He said after swallowing hard.

"When you indulged her interest... How would it... work?" Mrs. Land asked, very softly, delighting in the blush that crept up his neck.

"We had a similar build so... She would pick something for me to wear and then... We'd... You know..." He trailed off.

Yes, she believed she did know. Mrs. Lange pressed the dress she'd been holding to Oliver's chest. He jumped up a bit but said nothing. 

"Yes. This one. You'll wear this one. Come." She said, and grabbed him by the sleeve. They walked together to the couches, Oliver letting himself be led.

"Strip," Mrs. Lange said and walked over to her jewelry boxes. She picked a nice pair of golden clip-on earrings and a simple chain necklace. All the while she watched Oliver as he stripped off his uniform in a little mirror placed on the shelf. He stood there awkwardly, clad only in high pale stockings, and his padded bra, holding his crumpled clothes in front of his crotch. Was he hiding an erection? Mrs. Lange hoped so.

She arrived back finding him not quite sure what to do with himself. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "Off with it," She said, pointing at the bundle he held.

"Mrs. Lange..." He said, not looking her in the eyes. "I-"

She stepped closer to him and held his chin in her hand, forcing him to look at her. "Oliver... It's alright. Nothing I haven't seen before."

He swallowed and nodded, then he let the bundle fall to the ground. And there it was... His cock was rock hard straining against white panties. Mrs. Lange's mouth watered seeing it. Was it ironic for a crossdresser to have a large cock? "My... Somebody is excited."

"I'm sorry..." He whispered. "It just... Gets like this."

"Don't be... I am not. Now, put the dress, I will do your makeup after... You will look georgeous." She said not letting go of his chin.

The erection did not go away when he put on the dress, neither did it when she sat him down and redid his makeup. His eyes kept glancing down to her lips as she painted the caramel lipstick on his soft lips. His eyes kept searching hers, with a question in them. She delighted in not answering it.

They stood together in front of the tall mirror and looked like quite a pair in her estimation. Her, an older but thankfully still rather voluptuous woman in a strapless red evening gown, him a young and lithe man in a beautiful white dress hugging his modest curves and neck tightly. She picked simple white heels for him, a good match to her red ones. Golden jewelry and a simple pair of white half palm gloves completed his outfit.

No... What completed it was the obvious erection pressing against the silky material of his dress. Mrs. Lange chose to not comment on it... For now. She put her hands on his hips and leaned in to whisper into his ear. "My... You look beautiful... I think we did a good job."

"Yeah... I do." Oliver said slowly. "Wow..."

She let one of her hands glide over his stomach, an inch above the erection. Oliver took a deep trembling breath, but said nothing. He let himself be caressed in silence, his eyes roaming over the two of them, full of awe and want.

"Amanda... What do you think should happen now?" Mrs. Lange whispered, as she brushed her pinky over the head of his cock. He shivered, but was it her touch or the name change, she did not know.

"Casey would always-"

"I asked you." She said sternly, but without reprimand.

Oliver took a moment to think before he spoke. When he did his voice was paper thin and very quiet. "Just... Tell me what to do. Please."

She hugged him tightly from the side, her breasts pressing into his arm. He smelled so nice, of sweat and flowers. Mrs. Lange let her hands roam all over his chest and back. 'Whatever she wanted?' My, what a dangerous thing to tell somebody...

Her heart felt light. For once, to loosen those golden laces.

"Lift up your dress for me. I want to see it." She heard herself say and judged it to be true. She did want to see it.

Oliver did what he was told. With slight hesitation he hiked the dress up, bunching it up at his waist- revealing his hard cock stretching his white lacy panties. There was a wet stain where the tip was. 

The boy was leaking precum.

"You are really excited, aren't you?" She whispered into his ear. "I love it."

"You do?" He asked. "I hoped so but... I wasn't sure."

"Young man, I invited you into my bedroom and stripped you half naked..." She said, playing up her exasperation.

"Well... Uh... You do have a husband." He said, stressing the word as if it was a  dangerous animal they were trapped in a room with.

"Here's hoping he does not come up here... Who knows what he'd do to you..." She whispered into Oliver's ear. She expected fear but the young man shivered with excitement. Something to explore another day, perhaps...

"Let's not waste time... Take off your underwear." She said.

Oliver hooked his thumb into his panties, and pushed it down. His cock sprang out and hung down between his legs, large and painfully erect. He was shaved smooth, his testies were large filling out his panties. Mrs. Lange felt a strong urge to grab them... So she did. 

Oliver gasped when she grasped his balls, testing their weight, their feel through her gloves. Then, she moved onto the shaft enjoying its thickness. "Wow..." It was her turn to be in awe. "You feel amazing in my hand." She said as she began stroking him. The low throaty moan coming out of his throat emboldened her to keep going.

His cock felt so good in her hands, even through the material of her opera gloves. She imagined it inside her and shivered, already dripping wet just from the thought.

"Is this something your girlfriend did for you... Amanda?" She asked as she stroked him.

"Yes!" He moaned.

"And was that it? She just used her hand?"

"No- she- Oh god..." He hesitated. "I- I would eat her out and- and-"

"It's alright," she whispered and kissed his neck. "You can tell me..."

"She would peg me sometimes! Or- or- or ride me- God that feels good!" He moaned and thrust his hips into her hand. His cock twitched like crazy, ready to burst. Mrs. Lange thought about stopping now, teasing him, denying him the orgasm, but she did not do any of that. She wanted to see his climax as soon as possible.

"Are you going to come Oliver?" She asked as she increased the speed. 

"Yes! But- Mrs. Lange!" He said looking around. "Where- where-"

"Don't worry about that... Just enjoy yourself honey... Let me make you feel good..." She whispered to him. He nodded jerkily and closed his eyes, his eyebrows scrunching adorably.

He came with a whimper, thrusting into her hand Mrs. Lange watched enraptured the moment the first rope of cum shot out of him and splattered against the mirror with a quiet splat! Then another one, then another, all hit the mirror, pouring down in fat rivulets. She kept pumping her fist over his cock head as Oliver kept coming, soiling both her mirror and her gloves, moaning and bucking all the while. 

When he was finished, he slackened in her hands, swaying on his feet. Mrs. Lange held him tightly and let him rest, for the moment. She lifted her soiled hand to her face and inhaled the musky scent. She almost licked it off, before she got a better idea.

"Amanda, you've made quite a mess... Clean it up." She said as she presented her hand to him.

Oliver's eyelashes fluttered and he looked at it, uncomprehending. Then a realization hit and he lunged forward. His tongue eagerly chased his own come all over her glove- her palm, her knuckles even the spaces between the fingers. It was not his first time doing it, she was certain.

Whoever that Casey woman was, she really screwed up letting this boy go.

"Good girl..." Mrs. Lange whispered and kissed Oliver on the back of his neck. "You did very well."

"Thank you," he whispered.

He looked so cute with his flushed cheeks and messed up hair... Not to mention his softening cock hanging out of his panties. Mrs. Lange had never been much of a dominant woman in bed, but standing there now, she felt the fire inside her. There were so many things she wanted to do to this boy... She wanted to see him ache for her, cry and beg, then... Fuck him blind and call him a good boy while he thanked her for the privilege. 

A boy in a dress... Was this really what it took to get her going? Apparently it was! Her pussy was aching and it was high time somebody took care of that.

"Amanda..." She whispered into his ear. He opened his eyes and looked up at her, eager to please. "I would like you to kneel on the ground for me... Could you do that?"

He obeyed eagerly. She sat on the couch in front of him and spread her legs. She hiked up her skirt, letting him see her stockings and undergarments. Oliver tracked every single one of her motions like a bloodhound.

"Take off my panties..." She said and raised her hips off the pillow. Oliver, ever so gently, rolled her panties down her thighs, exposing her overheated pussy to the air. He licked his lips when he saw it. Clever boy.

Her clit felt impossibly sensitive. She rubbed it carefully, enjoying the new sensation of cum and saliva soaked gloves on the skin. Oliver leaned in and wetted his lips again, but moved no further. She meant for him to eat her out, but she enjoyed watching him like this- kneeling, flushed, eagerly waiting to be told what to do.

It did not take her long to make herself come. Before long, she was writhing on the couch, rubbing furious circles on her clit, moaning and groaning wantonly, but never breaking eye contact with the beautiful boy in front of her. His blue eyes carried her through her orgasm. When it was over, she let herself lie there for a moment.

"I'm sorry Amanda... Am I neglecting you?" She laughed when she could speak again.

"I enjoyed the show... Mrs. Lange..." He whispered, his voice full of lust.

She almost told him then to call her Claudia, but she decided against it. Mrs. Lange had a nice ring to it. Hearing her husband's name said in this context tickled her. Heinrich would get a kick out of it too, she knew.

"I am glad... Would you like to please me?" She asked as she brushed her hand through her greying pubic hair. Thank Christ she kept herself well groomed out of habit.

"God, I want it... Please... Can I do it?" Oliver asked and bit his lip.

Mrs. Lange laughed. "Sure... Go ahead." She said, and spread her legs wider. Oliver did not make her wait.

His mouth felt like magic on her pussy. She slid her hand into his hair and led him to where she wanted him. First, she made him lick her folds, up and down, pressing his whole face into her. By the time she pulled him towards her clit, his makeup was a sore lovely mess.  

"My, you look so pretty like this..." She whispered. "But do get back to it."

He sucked on her clit like his life depended on it. He was not nearly as skilled at it as her husband, but he certainly had more vigor. She let him do it for a while before pulling him back down to her opening again. He stuck his tongue in and explored inside without prompting. Clever boy indeed.

"That's right Oliv- Amanda... Good job..." She purred. "I am going to come soon... Don't change anything."

She pulled at his head, trying to press him in deeper. His nose rubbed against her clit sending her over the edge. She looked into his eyes and found them wide and black with arousal. God, he loved it! He loved her taste, he loved being made to do this! She grit her teeth, unable to stop the guttural groan from escaping her throat. It was the strongest orgasm she'd had in a while, one of those that curled her very toes, and made her see white.

"Stop..." She whispered, when it was over.

Oliver leaned back on his arms and gasped for breath. His whole chin and neck were covered in her juices, his caramel lipstick long gone, smeared somewhere across her thighs. Woozy with ecstasy, Mrs. Lange leaned in and brought her face close to his.

"Good girl..." She whispered, before she kissed him.

It meant to be chaste, more of a statement than a real kiss, but somewhere along the way she found herself laying back on the couch with Oliver on top of her, making out like teenagers. Even more surprising was his hard cock rubbing against her thigh. She forgot that she was not with an old man this time.

She broke the kiss and held Oliver's face in both hands- his eyes were half lidded, drunk with lust. She did not need to ask if he wanted it. She simply spread her legs and adjusted her hips a bit. Then she reached down and aimed his hard cock inside her.

He slid in with little resistance, fitting so well Mrs. Lange almost came again right then and there. She hugged Oliver tightly to her bosom and said. "Go ahead... You've been a good girl..."

Oliver nodded and pushed deeper inside, his thick cock spreading Mrs. Lange wide. She could not believe how good it felt. Not just his cock, but everything- the way his lithe body felt in her hands, the way he shivered and gasped with each thrust, the silky smoothness of his stockings rubbing on hers, their dresses enveloping them in their softness. 

She laughed and caressed the back of his head as he fucked her. "You feel so good Oliver..." She whispered. "God, you feel amazing..."

"You too! You're so- so beautiful!" Oliver groaned.

On and on, she murmured soft loving praises as he fucked her. They took it slow, grinding against each, Oliver's cock pushing in and out of her in languid deep thrusts, his face buried in her neck kissing and licking all over. His hands explored her breasts greedily, kneading them with intent.

She knew that he was holding back. Pretty and dressed up or not, he was a young man after all. She could tell that he wanted to hold her down and fuck her hard, but right now she enjoyed the slow pace too much.

"You're going to make me come again..." She whispered. "Afterwards... You can do whatever you want... As a reward..."

"Anything?" He moaned.

"Yes!" She laughed.

Oliver nodded and kept going, redoubling his efforts to please her. Soon he found the right angle to thrust into her, and the right spot on her neck to kiss and nibble. Then, she was gone again, writhing under him, seeing stars under her eyelids.

This orgasm was no less intense than the previous, leaving her heaving for breath. After it was over, she brought her mouth to his ear and whispered. "Thank you... Now... What would you want, honey?"

"You- on top! Please!" He groaned needily.

She obliged him with a smile. She sat him down on the edge of the couch, at an angle to the mirror so he could see her behind. His thick hard cock looked desperately hard sticking out in the air. Then, she lowered herself onto him, her hands on his chest for support. He looked up at her with such naked need that all thoughts of teasing him went right out of the window.

Mrs. Lange rode Oliver hard and fast, giving very little thought to her own pleasure, focusing entirely on his. She yanked her dress and bra down exposing her breasts and guided his hands onto them. He played with then, rubbing and kneading her hard nipples as she bounced up and down on his cock.

"Does it feel good?" She groaned as she bore down on him, his cock reaching deep inside her.

"Yes! You feel amazing!" He moaned.

"Are you going to come?" 

"Can I? Please!" 

"Yes! You've been such a good girl! You deserve it!" She said feeling his cock twitch inside her. Not long now.

"Yes?" He asked, his eyes glazed over. 

"God yes... My pretty girl..." Mrs. Lange purred as Oliver came.

He bit his lip and threw his head back, pumping his hips into her, thrusting desperately. His seed felt hot inside her, filling her to the brim. Mrs. Lange did what she could to match his frantic motions, to bring him more pleasure. When he was spent, his head fell back down to the couch, his eyes closed. He looked so lovely that Mrs. Lange felt another orgasm nearing.

"Oliver... I am close... Please... Endure it for just a moment." She asked not stopping her hips.

"Yes... I will, "he whispered. 

She got himself off using his spent cock. Oliver groaned under her, trying to endure her riding his oversensitive cock. His whimpers were what did her in. Her last orgasm of the night tore through her violently, bending her over and forcing embarrassing animal-like grunts out of her.

When it mercifully passed, she laid on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his cum leaking out of her. My, what a lovely night this turned out to be...

"Thank you very much honey..." She whispered, feeling a warm sort of exhaustion overtake her.

"No... Thank you." Oliver said, looking so incredibly cute that Mrs. Lange almost kissed him again.

"Amanda..." Mrs. Lange murmured into his lips. "Amandaaaa..."

Oliver laughed, but said nothing, just laid there looking absolutely delicious. A twinge of arousal somehow bubbled up through the haze of exhaustion. But, unfortunately, time is a cruel bitch and Mrs. Lange was simply too old to go again. It was time to let this young man go and... Girdle up again. 

The golden laces of her exquisite golden corset constricted again, robbing her of breath. It was a good life, far better than most people experienced. But still...

"Oliver... Before you go... There is something I would like to... Discuss..." Mrs. Lange said, as her mind slowly tried to wrap itself around an idea that was just the right amount of silly to be worth undertaking.

"We missed you at the afterparty party last night dear..." Heinrich said, looking disgustingly handsome in his silk robe. He had a knack for arranging himself in a way that made Mrs. Lange remember exactly why she married him. They sat on the terrace, enjoying the morning as the staff cleaned up the remains of last night.

"Oh, I found something a bit more interesting to occupy my time dear." She said, taking a sip of her morning coffee. She made sure to arrange her bathrobe in as well. She was rewarded with Heinrich's eyes constantly straying to her cleavage.

"Is that so?" Her husband drawled, in a way that he did that made her unsure if she wanted to burn his suits down or kiss him. "Do tell..."

"I don't think I will..." She said, as she waved for a member of staff to bring her the newspaper. A lovely young woman, full of nervous energy, brought it over.

"Thank you honey..." Mrs. Lange said, and made brief eye contact with the girl. Beautiful blue eyes met hers.

Heinrich stole the newspaper out of her hands, as he did almost every morning for the past twenty seven years. He took the society and business section and left her the arts. "Fine... Keep your secrets. I will find out eventually..." He said with a gleam in his eye. The gossip hound was on the trail!

A crash from behind them made both of them jump. 

"The new girl is making a mess..." Heinrich said. "Why is there a new girl, again?"

"I poached her from Marcia. I felt like shaking things up..." Mrs. Lange said.

"What's her name?" Heinrich asked casually with a very specific look in his eye, one she knew well. The old 'I just saw an attractive woman but I'll hide it out of respect for my wife' classic. 

She took a deep breath, enjoying the lightness she felt. Then, she spoke, hiding her smirk behind the newspaper.

"Her name is Amanda..."

Up next, I'll be focusing on releasing the next chapter of "I Will Never Forgive You" before the holidays. I may need to skip the illustration this time around if I am to make it. We'll see.