Dennis felt absolutely violated as she limped around the bedroom after the disastrous "lovemaking" (if you could call it that) session with his (rather nasty inside and out) wife, who just happened to think Dennis was a lady-prostitute she had hired while her husband was away. It was hard to argue, as thanks to the magnificent meddling of the Medallion of Zulo, Dennis McLaughlin PI was indeed in the body of Missy, who if she wasn't a prostitute, had often been mistaken for or treated like one.
Dennis had been subjected to a number of terrible things she never expected. The 10-inch rubber cock was just the tip... so to speak (after all, it did go quite deep.) Ropes, masks, leather, rubber, paddles and other battery-operated aparatus all made appearances during this very, very strenuous hour in Dennis' life.
Not only did she have to take it, every mortifying second of it, she had to pretend to enjoy it. Dennis knew that sex HAD to be at least somewhat enjoyable for women - why else would they put up with it, his detective's instinct asked - but this was just grotesque. His - well, her - vagina, buttocks and breasts were all very sore. The experience was not in the least bit erotic.
But Dennis, in any body, was incredibly resourceful, and had plenty ideas as to what he wanted to use the Medallion for. Halfway through the affair, Mrs. McLaughlin had served up some wine. Miss had surreptitiuosly dropped a couple sleeping pills into Mrs. M's drink. It was a delayed effect but a worthwhile one as she was out like a light (and thankfully, Dennis had insisted upon payment up front.)
As Mrs. Andrea McLaughlin dozed off, crashing to the bed in her torn nightie (during a struggle, which she insisted Dennis put up,) Dennis slipped the Medallion over her head. She grabbed her bra from the ceiling fan and draped it over the medallion. Mrs. M's unconscious face twitched at the jolt of change.
"If my wife is going to be having freaky dirty daytime sex, I won't have her paying for it. She's going to be having it with me, and she's going to look good doing it."
The taut lacy fabric of the nightie loosened and loosened until the figure lying in it was totally blanketed. Dennis set down to scrawl a note in handwriting that was a mix of Missy's and his own.
"Mrs. McLaughlin
"Consider this a gift. Just show your husband a little appreciation and I'm sure he'll appreciate you.
"Yours,
Missy."
As if by reflex, the "i" in Missy was dotted with a heart. Dennis was taken aback and unnerved by that, but chalked it up to the body's natural movement after years of Missy's quirky spelling. Dennis was also getting a little too comfortable with the idea of transforming people unwillingly as they slept.
She hobbled over to the washroom to shower up. She still had a few hours to kill. She re-dressed in Missy's clothes and stopped off at the office to drop the medallion in the desk. In a few hours, she could return and be regular old Dennis McLaughlin again, but the medallion would not affect her until then. For now, it was time to fill Missy's little stomach with some real food.
