CLEANER: Chapter Five - Part Nine

MELISSA

Once my shift was over i went upstairs without seeing Dahlia and started changing reluctantly back into my own clothes.

it was funny to think about how weird I'd found Dahlia's desire to swap initially. People just didn't suggest this kind of thing. But now that I'd done it a few times I was starting to see how the attraction could build. Despite the crazy premise I was starting to see it as the highlight of my day; the prelude to dropping back into my own pathetic life with a resounding bump.

Putting on my own clothes was like dressing in a prison uniform. Underneath the wig, my real hair looked drab and flat. My dress showed off every bulge of my bloated shape. I had never been comfortable in my body but these trades were making me feel it more. It was almost enough to make me want it to stop.

But I was as hooked as Dahlia was now. Why would I ever want to give this up, as long as she was up for it? That would be like never eating chocolate simply because I couldn't have it every minute of every day. And chocolate never did anyone any harm.

It made me wonder how different it would be to really become Dahlia... How would it feel to be slim and blond and beautiful? To own this house and the flash car; to have model good looks.

It would be incredible. That's what it would be.

I set the Dahlia costume down on the bed, wishing I didn't have to, just as the real Dahlia entered the room.

The oddly uncomfortable new dynamic to our relationship was still present - neither one of us sure anymore how to act around the other, though really getting into the character of being the boss had given me shivers.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi."

She got undressed and I stood back to give her room, examining her torso as she climbed out of the dress, sure that her stomach was fatter than it had been. She was still wearing her swimsuit underneath and she blushed when she saw me looking. I turned quickly away and said, "I better be going."

"Okay," replied Dahlia, taking off her wig and slipping her robe on. She took off the glasses but didn't offer them to me. I didn't ask for them. She fingered them for a moment then put them on the bed with the rest of her disguise. I went to the door.

"Melissa?"

"Yes?"

I was wondering... if you..." She smiled shyly. "Just if you needed extra money... I'd be happy to give you extra hours."

"Extra? What were you thinking?"

She looked unsure then shrugged. "I don't know what your other movements are, but... if you want... I bet I could find things for - for you to do... every day. Except Sunday. If you want. Just mornings still so you can keep your other job at the school."

"Are you sure?

Was she serious? Did this mean what I thought it meant? I was too afraid to ask.

"Absolutely," she replied. "But only if you want. This house can get filthy."