Wedding Arragements

A Spells R Us story

by Eric

Turnabout Romance CoverSamantha Lodge and Greg Jones were getting married. The whole town was titillated. Soon to be unavailable were the town's most eligible bachelor and the winner of the state's Miss Strawberry pageant, their own Samantha Lodge.

Greg was finally tying the knot at thirty-two years of age, and was the son of the town's richest man—the owner of the local prune and frozen strawberry plant. 'Sam' was the beautiful twenty-two year old daughter of Abner Lodge, who owned the largest of the strawberry farms.

Some said it was a match made in heaven—others, with less romantic minds, called it a match made in Dow Jones! One person thought it a match made in hell—'Laura' Petrie, the maid of honor. She was the nineteen-year-old daughter of Robert Petrie, and had been given the nickname 'Laura' because she was a dead ringer for a young Mary Tyler More from the old Dick Van Dyke show.

She had always hated Greg, for he had unmercifully teased Laura when she was young—calling her 'jaws' because her teeth were bucked and her mouth was too large for her body. A dentist had taken care of the bucked teeth, and time had made the rest of her body catch up with her mouth. But it didn't help when Greg's dad had fired her dad because of reporting the elder Jones for leaving too many pits in the prunes to the state government. Samantha's father had then given him a lesser-paying job, and the old resentment was still there.

* * * * *

With only three days to go before their wedding, Sam and Greg were cuddling warmly and happily together in bed. Sam giggled joyously. (Greg was really hung! Wow!) Putting his arm around her, Greg said, "I'm the luckiest guy in the world! My little strawberry blonde is the sexiest girl on the face of the Earth!"

Sam smiled and snuggled closer. "You're very wise to say so!"

He kissed her again and she sighed happily. "And I know I'm the luckiest girl in the world�everyone says so."

"Everyone?" asked Greg with a quizzically raised eyebrow. "Even Jaws—I mean Laura? I sure wish you would find another maid of honor!"

Sam's beautiful face frowned slightly. "I know she doesn't like you very much—"

"Why sugar coat it, Sam? She hates me. She's never gotten over my teasing her when she was young—remember?"

"You were bad!" Sam admonished. "Honestly, calling her 'Jaws!' That was mean." But Sam and all the other girls thought it vastly funny. She had pretended to sympathize with the victim, but the name had certainly fit. "Of course, your dad firing her father didn't help matters."

"Hey, that had nothing to do with me—it was a business decision! Besides, nobody likes a snitch."

"Greg, she's my best friend�oh, never mind. Look, let's not argue!" Sam giggled. "Let's save it for after we're married! Make love, not war!"

"You could run for president on that, and get more than votes!" said Greg, folding her into his strong embrace.

As he held her close, Sam noted with a hint of pride that he was already getting excited. She really had him by the balls, she thought to herself, suppressing a smug little grin.

* * * * *

Laura Petrie was furious. How could Samantha marry that asshole? Even the thought of him as her best friend's husband made her nauseous! 'And I know he'll keep me from seeing her after they're married. I just know it!' she told herself. 'If only I could save her from marrying him and subjecting herself to a life of misery!'

Again, the teen went to her father's small study and eyed the 30-30 that featured prominently in one of her recurring daydreams involving Greg. 'I should just blow him away,' she thought. 'But that would just make him a martyr in Sam's eyes. Then I would be arrested, and spend the rest of my life fending off dykes in prison!' Laura shuddered. She needed a better plan.

However, until one came to her, she thought she would drive into town and maybe get something at the local Wal-Mart. A gallon of cheap whiskey, for instance.


Laura wandered through the store, amazed. They had everything, including some leased space for famous franchises. One for McDonalds, Doc eyeglasses, DR Atkings diet and Vitamin products and—what the hell was a 'Spells R Us'?

Curious, she went in to a tinkling of an old-fashioned door charm. An old man in a rather ratty-looking bathrobe was behind the counter. "Hi, Laura," he greeted her.

Laura look no note—she was well known locally because of her beauty and her friendship with Samantha, and her picture had been in the paper picketing the prune factory.

"Oh, hello," she said, looking around the store. The place seemed to be cluttered with lots of old junk.

"I know it isn't the place you would expect to find in a Wal-Mart, but even I must move with the times," he sighed. "College students are now dreary MBA types, and I am looking to expand my customer base in smaller towns."

Consumed with her hatred of her friend's impending nuptials, Laura paid this strange speech little heed as she continued to survey the shop.

"I understand you would like to break up the coming nuptials of Samantha and Greg?"

That got her attention. "Is it that well known around the county?" she sighed.

The old man smiled like a kindly uncle. It should have sent up alarm bells. It didn't.

"Perhaps being a wizard, I am more perceptive than most!"

Laura laughed derisively. "A wizard. Sure—prove it! I'm from Missouri!"

"Actually, you were born and raised in California."

"Hey! How did you�"

The old man waved a hand dismissively. "I think I have the solution to your problems. Of course, you will have to make a sacrifice."

He took out a box with two rings. Even in the dim light of the shop, they glistened like a rainbow.

Laura exploded. "You idiot! I'm not buying wedding rings for the marriage—I want to stop it, not promote it! This would be strawberries on top of that monster Greg's cake!"

"Now, now, Laura, I am trying to help you! Trust me!" the wizard said, his tone soothing, persuasive, and filled with heart-rending sincerity. He could have run for office.

Years ago, Laura's father warned her never to trust anyone who said, 'trust me.' Now, despite his advice and her own misgivings, she found herself listening to the old man. "Yeah? How?"

Again the old man smiled like a kindly old uncle. "These rings, and others like them, I have sold at a remarkably low price, and they have given universal satisfaction," he said with far more eloquence than truth. He smiled inside, thinking of Sidney and Casey, Buffy and Crash Colton, and especially Dewanna and Claire. (See "Naughty but Nice" and "Finishing School.") His smile broadened as he remembered how much sweetness and light his early pair had brought to all those involved in the Weird Wednesday sagas of Susan and Kevin.

"You still haven't told me how they—"

Cutting her off, the old man motioned for her to lean closer. Bending forward, he whispered something quietly in her ear.

She straightened up and looked at him skeptically. "You're kidding."

"Try them and see! If they don't work, come back and I will cheerfully refund double your money!"

"How much?" she asked, trying to hide the growing excitement in her voice. If they did what he promised, she would save Sam and revenge herself on that major asshole Greg at the same time!

"$217.16," he said.

'Odd,' Laura thought. It was the exact amount to finish maxing out her Discover Card!

Ker-ching! The kindly old man rang up the transaction and the teen, torn between fear and hope, rushed home. She thought the situation over thoroughly, and planned the next night to stop by and visit her good friend, Samantha.


"Laura! I am so glad you came! What do you think of your maid of honor gown?!"

"It's beautiful!" she lied. It was hideous, as was often the case with bridesmaids' dresses. Overstated and brightly-colored, it was not her style at all. The hat alone was an embarrassment. "And your wedding gown is fit for the Princess you are!" 'Well, at least that part is true,' she thought to herself.

That got her a grateful hug from Sam.

"I only wish my best friend and my best guy would get along. I would hate to see my wedding spoiled."

Laura forced a kind smile, a pale imitation of the one the wizard had used on her. Fortunately, it seemed to do the trick. "Sam, I have been thinking about it, and I will do my best to like Greg—for your sake. I know my dislike is irrational, and I am afraid it might even drive me insane!"

A look of worry crossed Sam's face. Somehow, an insane maid of honor didn't quite fit with the image of the storybook wedding she had in mind.

Sensing her friend's concern, Laura pushed further. "Why don't you send Greg over to my house tonight. I promise not to bite, and we'll talk things over."

Sam embraced her friend warmly. "That's great! Want me to come?"

"NO! I mean, I think Greg and I need to settle this between us. You would just�err�stir the pot!"

Laura watched anxiously as Sam's slim fingers dialed Greg's number. The idea went over like a lead balloon, but after a lot of cooing from his bride to be, he reluctantly agreed.


Everyone that saw Laura that day noticed her big shit eating grin, and wondered about the cause. She hadn't smiled since Sam's engagement. Even her boyfriend, a local stable hand, was worried about her sudden change.

Returning at last to her humble apartment, Laura looked around in disgust. She couldn't afford anything better because she worked as a make-up artist for the local mortician. Her father could not afford college for her—all thanks to those rotten Joneses! Still, she didn't let it ruin her good mood�in a few short hours, everything would be solved, she reminded herself.

That evening, a cautious and worried Greg approached Laura's apartment. He had made a little list, which he once again reviewed. One, don't eat or drink anything, it might be drugged or poisoned; two, don't let her show you her father's rifle; three, don't turn your back to her; four, don't go into the kitchen where she has all her knives. Yep, that should about cover it. Then, Greg smiled at his foolishness. He was a well-built 6'4" of solid muscle—what could a slim 5' 5" girl do to him?

A stranger greeted him at the door. Although she certainly looked like Laura, this young woman appeared to be smiling and pleasant. Showing him inside, the impostor then motioned for him to sit on the couch and offered to get him something to drink. He politely declined, recalling rule number one. She again smiled and sat down next to him on the couch.

"Look, we both love Sam and want her to be happy, right?"

"Right," he replied cautiously.

"I went to see a shrink, and he made me realize my objections to you are irrational and largely based on my jealousy and fear that you will take Laura away from me. Typical teenage angst. If you promise that you will let me see her after you are married—"

"Of course," he said, thinking, 'the sooner this coot is out of our lives, the better.' "Then you're not mad any more about me teasing you and calling you 'Jaws'?"

Laura forced herself to smile. "Hey, that was a long time ago! I was five and you were 17. It was just a boyish joke." She still remembered how cruel other kids were to her then. It had ruined her childhood. Occasionally some would still her call her by that hated slur, and she would want to kill them—and Greg.

"How about the feud because my father fired your father?"

Man, this jerk was really pushing it. Again she forced another smile. "Hey, that was your father—just because he is a low life pond scum who cheats everybody doesn't mean that you do!"

"Hey!" protested Greg.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend!" she said, straining to add a note of sincerity to her voice. Standing up, Laura glided over to a drawer and added, "In fact, I even have a little peace offering."

Forgetting to be worried about such gestures, Greg watched the lovely young woman as she crossed the room, admiring her slim but curvy body, and midnight hair. It was a shame she was such a bitch, he thought. He might have introduced her to some of his rich friends. Well, because of her chip-on-the-shoulder attitude, her steady boyfriend shoveled shit and groomed horses at Greg's father's stables.

Laura maintained her pleasant demeanor as she returned with the familiar box and gracefully sat down on the couch. As she opened the lid, she gave Greg a warm smile and thought to herself, 'This had better work, or I am going to ram a broom handle up a certain alleged wizard's ass!'

Greg caught his breath. The rings she held out were beautiful.

"These are friendship rings. Lets put them on together and try to be friends."

He couldn't believe it. She smiled again, and Greg had to admit she was charming and beautiful when she did so. She really did seem like a changed person.

"I'll go first!" she said, sliding the smaller of the two rings on her finger.

Greg thought, 'What the hell—how can a ring hurt me?' and put the matching ring on his own finger. For a moment, there was a dizzying sensation of light and dark. Then he found himself—LOOKING AT HIMSELF! A self that was grinning in triumph. Greg looked down. He was in Laura's body! He tried to scream—to bring himself out of his nightmare! But all he could do was gasp.

"What's wrong, JAWS?" asked the Greg across from him.

Panic raised within him, along with a flood of other emotions. Then, quite unexpectedly, he started crying. Blinking back tears, he wailed, "What wrong? What's wrong? You know what's wrong! Please give me back my body. I'm getting married in two days!"

"Wrong again, JAWS! I'm the one who's getting married! But don't worry, you will make a lovely maid of honor. All the men will lust after your body—you lucky girl—looking to get an easy lay after the emotional wear and tear on an unmarried girl after her friend's wedding!"

"I'll tell�I'll tell Sam!"

"She won't believe you! I already told her I felt like I was going insane—she'll just make one little call, and you'll be dressed in unfashionable loony bin white."

Greg opened his mouth to scream for help, but the iron hand of the huge brute across from him stifled his cries.

"I came prepared," said the false Greg, reaching behind a pillow and retrieving a roll of duct tape. 'He' then tore off a strip and taped over Greg's new mouth and proceeded to tie up his squirming captive. Helpless, the new Laura peered through locks of long dark hair, watching as the man removed both rainbow rings and held up a sheet of paper.

"See this, Jaws? It's YOUR suicide note—handwritten, saying you can't bear to go on, seeing your best friend marrying Greg Jones. I can drug you, take you into the kitchen and turn on the gas, and everyone will say, 'Poor Laura�the marriage of her friend drove her to this!' I'll cry most sincerely at your funeral, and of course, I'll be there to console poor Sam. Just think about that until I return in the morning. Right now, however, I am going to see MY fiancée—after all, she is expecting me to tell her how my meeting with her best friend went. Also, I would imagine that she's expecting me in her bed, and I don't want to keep a lady waiting!" he said triumphantly. Then, looking at the dewy-eyed teen, added, "Ah, you're crying�well, that's what I did most of my life, so now it's your turn now to be a watering pot! Don't go away�we'll talk in the morning—Laura!"

The new Greg laughed and turned on his heels, leaving a weeping girl bound and gagged on the couch. To add to her discomfort, the old Greg—now Laura—had to go to the bathroom!

'The fiend!' he—she—thought. 'How inconsiderate!'

* * * * *

Sam looked anxiously at Greg as he entered.

"How did it go?"

"Not good, lover! Not good at all—she was very depressed. I felt sorry for the poor girl. I hope she'll snap out of it!"

Sam sighed, "Poor Laura!"

'Not any more,' thought the new Greg, 'not any more.' He picked up the lovely strawberry blonde and carried her up to her bed.

She giggled, "Stop, oh, stop!" egging him on.

It was great being a man, thought the new Greg. No surrender, no feeling of helplessness. 'And I certainly am well hung!' he thought proudly.

* * * * *

When the new Laura Petrie awoke, the sun was streaming in the windows. She was stiff and sore from being tied up all night, and her eyes were red and her throat sore from her constant uncontrollable sobbing. Even worse, she was still damp from where she wet herself last night, and she could feel the need building again. Morosely, she wondered if the real Laura hadn't drunk six glasses of water just before making the switch just to add this final indignity.

The new girl felt her emotions welling up again as she realized that she was trapped in a strange female body, while the real Laura was making out with Sam! She had never felt so weak and helpless! This feeling was reinforced as she saw the huge bulk of Greg enter the room. The man was as big as a mountain, thought the bound prisoner helplessly. The nineteen-year-old girl felt so immature, and he looked so adult and commanding.

"Have a good night, little Miss Petrie? I sure did! Wow, it's great being a guy with Sam as my fiancée!" Greg smiled as he saw the tears of frustration stream down his captive's face. "Aw, I made you cry again! So sorry!" he said hypocritically. "Here...I have something that will make you feel better. Let me play you a tape I made of our lovemaking last night. I just know you'll love it!"

The bound woman shook her head and tried in vain not to listen to the sounds of sex and Sam's screams of delight. The hated tears were flowing freely now. As the tape ended, she heard Sam's voice say, "Wow! You were a lot better than ever—you Stallion, you!"

She sobbed quietly into her gag as she realized the enormity of that statement. 'Sam liked him better than me!' she thought.

"I am not a murderer," said Greg. "Not unless you force me to be. Now, here's the deal." He ripped the tape from her wide mouth, causing her to yelp in pain.

"No more noise!" he said sternly.

"I'm sorry," the bound girl whimpered submissively.

"If you promise to keep your mouth shut, and act as though you really are Laura Petrie, I'll let you go!"

Helplessly, the new Laura nodded, then quietly asked, "May�may I please use the bathroom?"

She winced at his booming laugh. What a brute!

"Sure," he said with offensive masculine superiority. After he untied the ropes, Laura quickly rubbed circulation back into her arms and legs and hurried for the bathroom, somehow knowing where it was. Standing in front of the toilet, she started crying again as she realized she would have to sit down to pee, which meant having to remove her pantyhose and panties. Struggling with the unfamiliar clothing, she almost made it before the piss came spraying out. Almost.

She had never felt so filthy in her life. After she finished, Laura stuck her head around the door and timidly asked the large man, "Is it okay if I take a shower? I feel absolutely ugly and dirty!"

He laughed, "Sure, help yourself, Laura!"

"Thank you," she said meekly, beaten down. What could she do, she wondered, taking off her soiled clothes. They were absolutely ruined, she thought. As she undressed, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and wept again as she saw the pathetic creature reflected there. Her eyes were red, her hair and makeup were a mess, and her clothes completely disheveled. There was no sign of the old Greg in the image before her. No one would believe her—even if that monster outside wouldn't kill her for trying to tell! God, she felt so�submissive!

Stepping under the warm water of the shower, the young woman washed away the tears, filth, and ruined makeup. Boy, did the shower feel GOOD! Idly, she soaped up her new body. Then, at first only half-aware of the pleasurable sensations she was generating, she began to sensuously run her hands over her soft, unfamiliar curves. She couldn't remember taking a shower half as enjoyable before. When she was finished, the new Laura wrapped a robe about herself, and came out fearfully. What would happen now? A small hope welled within her breast. If she could only get a hold of the rings!

When she emerged, her tormentor was still there waiting for her. "Make me some breakfast—scrambled eggs, toast and bacon! You'd better just eat Special K, as I know you'll want to keep your figure to trap a man."

She felt a lump in her throat as she wandered into the kitchen. What humiliation!

"By the way, if you are thinking about the rings, well, I disposed of them! Neither one of us is ever going to see those things again." Laura sniffled dejectedly, desperately trying to keep up a brave front. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry again, even as her one hope was snatched cruelly away.

Unfortunately, the brave front didn't last very long. Over breakfast, with Greg wolfing down his eggs and Laura watering her Special K with her tears, she received her marching orders. Laura was to get dressed and tell Sam that she had resigned herself to the wedding, and that she knew what a wonderful guy Greg was.

"UNDERSTAND?" threatened Greg.

Terrified, the slim girl nodded. He was such a brute. How could her friend Sam marry him?


"You can't expect me to dress like this?" Laura wailed, looking at a miniskirt, tight midriff baring blouse, and high heeled, sexy boots which Greg had set out while she was showering.

"Put them on!" he demanded angrily.

Feeling like a human watering pot, Laura felt her eyes mist with tears, but she did what she was told. Her clothes were so uncomfortable! And god, was her face a mess! She couldn't go outside like this!

"Would it be okay if I put on some makeup?" she asked softly, looking up at him fearfully.

He patted her shoulder patronizingly. "Of course, Laura!"

Gratefully, she went into her bedroom and put on her face. Strangely, she felt much better for it.

* * * * *

Seeing her former fiancée was torture. Laura was unable to control her emotions as she held Sam's hands in a feminine gesture and apologized for all of 'her' bad behavior over the last few months. She then enthusiastically endorsed the wedding, saying how wrong she had been about Greg. "He really is a great guy," she said, looking over at the impostor. "I...I think you're the luckiest girl in the world!" With that, she burst into tears as Greg looked on, looking especially smug and satisfied. Sam embraced her friend, and shed a few tears along with her.

"Don't cry so, Laura! We'll always be friends. Consider our home to be your home. Right, Darling?" she asked her husband to be.

"Of course!" he said with a strange smile. "Oh, but look at the time! We really shouldn't keep you from your work at the mortuary."

Laura was horrified. She would have to put make-up on dead people—how gross! As the happy couple escorted her to the door, she received a final sisterly hug from Sam, who whispered "thank you," in her ear. Then, in her four-inch heels, she tripped out to her rusty Honda Civic, sighing as she saw Greg's Porsche parked nearby. Clutching her purse, she took one last look at the smiling young couple, a sob catching in her throat as she saw Greg's arm wrapped possessively around his future wife.


When she arrived at the mortuary, Mr. Graves was waiting for her. "Thanks for showing up!" he snarled.

She hurriedly apologized and scurried off to the back room. God, was her job disgusting. Manipulating dead flesh made her own flesh creep. 'I can't stand this job!' she thought. 'I'll have to find some guy and get married.' Then, realizing what she had just thought, she started weeping again. Looking at her, one would wonder how such a small teenage girl could have so many tears.

Somehow, Laura got through the day, but another ordeal awaited her that night. The final rehearsal and dinner.

During the rehearsal at the church, she started crying�again. She just couldn't help it. Here she was, only a few feet away from Sam, watching her getting ready to marry someone else, and there was nothing she could do about it. Even if she risked death to tell her story, no one would believe her. Her former mother and father avoided her like she had the measles, and her former best buddy Carlton—the best man, and her constant companion for the evening—kept finding ways to touch her butt and breasts. What a pig! Between having to fend off his advances and watch everyone fussing over the sickeningly cute couple, she drank a little too much that evening. Suffering though the rest of the night, she finally left only to discover that her run-down car wouldn't start. Kicking at it in frustration with her small foot, she spun around to find Carlton there in the car next to her. Reluctantly, she allowed him to drive her home. And who knew? Maybe he could help her somehow.

Entering her small apartment, Carlton grabbed Laura and rained kisses upon her face. She struggled to no avail—he was so much stronger than she was now! Besides, she was so frightened and lonely. Her new body betrayed her, and she started kissing him back. Before she knew it, they were in the sack. The pig came before she was ready, and then fell asleep. Just like a man!

The next morning, which was Saturday, Laura awoke in mild surprise to discover Carlton still in bed next to her. They had better sex and she made him breakfast. The realization that it was supposed to be her wedding day caused her to break into another bout of crying. Her body and life had been stolen!

Sitting at breakfast, she wanted to tell Carlton who she really was, but she couldn't bear telling him the truth—especially not after what they had done together. Instead, her thoughts kept returning to a different question entirely. "Will I see you again?" Laura asked timidly.

"Sure!" he grunted with his mouth full of sausages. "You're pretty and you sure know what pleases a man in bed! Best lay I ever had."

She felt a flush of pleasure at the compliment. He thought she was pretty and sexy!

After breakfast, Carlton drove Laura back to Sam's house. It was agony seeing Sam so happy about marrying the false Greg! Her friend chattered away so excitedly as she helped Laura on with a lovely maid-of-honor gown. Colorful and feminine, she'd never seen anything quite like it. Laura stared at her reflection in the mirror was impressed. She even managed a weak smile as she adjusted the wide-brimmed hat. 'God! I really am beautiful—maybe I can lure Carlton into marrying me? He's loaded, and would be a good provider.' She sighed as she looked at Sam, who looked positively stunning in her beautiful white wedding gown.

Suddenly, her mood darkened. 'And instead of marrying me, she's marrying an evil impostor in my former body—and doesn't even know it or would believe it if I told her.' She sat sullenly through the rest of the preparations.

The wedding itself seemed to take forever. She felt acute embarrassment as she marched down the aisle wearing her bridesmaid's dress in front of all her friends and family. Clinging tightly onto her bouquet of flowers, she saw Greg waiting for his bride, and the major asshole had the effrontery to wink triumphantly at her. Earlier he had told her that she looked beautiful and complimented her on her lovely dress, which only served to aggravate her. However, she noted that when Carlton paid her the exact same compliment later on, it did make her feel better.

The church organ struck up 'Here comes the bride' and she watched Sam float down the aisle, smiling radiantly at the false Greg! Laura found herself crying again, and when it was over and Greg kissed the bride, her heart broke.

If the wedding was difficult, the wedding reception was absolute agony. Everyone was happy but her. At the head table, she had to sit only a few feet away from the 'happy couple' and watch all night as they kissed and danced with each other, their future seemingly filled with nothing but hope and promise. Meanwhile, she sat brooding, alone and trapped in a woman's body, practically an outcast due to her poor background and prior bad behavior—which wasn't even her fault! Life was so unfair. Greg was going on a Hawaiian Honeymoon with Sam, and she would be back to putting make-up on corpses! Afterwards, she let Carlton take her home again, as she felt so lost and lonely.



Samantha and Greg Jones had a happy marriage. Sam was surprised how her husband could enter into her feelings and could anticipate her wants. And he was so sympathetic when she had their cute babies! She just wished he got along better with poor Laura—she had such an unlucky life!

Greg Jones demonstrated his maturity—after all, he was the able heir, and soon ran the Prune and Strawberry company for his father. He soon got over his initial resentment at Mr. Jones senior, and could appreciate his new dad's point of view—after all, they were in business to make money, and old Mr. Petrie's whistle blowing had cut into their profits.

When Laura found herself pregnant, Carlton dumped her. He did offer to pay for her abortion, but she couldn't kill her baby—so he gave her $2,000 and told her that if she went to court, he had buddies who would swear she was a prostitute! A weeping Laura (she was now nicknamed 'the watering pot') was forced to agree to his terms. Fortunately (or unfortunately), her former boyfriend Fred, the stable boy for the Joneses, still wanted to marry her!

Laura begged Sam to help influence her husband Greg and get her a better job. Eventually he acceeded, and gave the pregnant twenty-something beauty a job inventorying pits, and later, after she had her baby, a position as the company receptionist. Although she had to admit that it was better than her previous job at the mortuary, Greg insisted that she wear very revealing clothes to "make a good first impression" on visitors. She spent her days either skittering around on her high heels doing trivial errands for the male staff or fending off flirtatious advances at the front desk—she felt like a piece of meat!

Laura wished she didn't cry so much, and that she could be more mature�like Greg! Of course, she was occasionally invited to their mansion, and Greg was gracious to her, but she felt so out of place—she was just a shade above white trash, and she knew it. Still, Laura was a good mother to her six kids. She just wished her husband didn't drink quite so much�or smell so much like horse shit!

A certain Wizard smiled. He so liked to spread sweetness and light. (At least, that's what he often said.) Trust him!

The End


� 2000

The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.

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