Thursday, 18 June 2015

CLEANER: Chapter Four - Part Four


My arms and legs felt strong and sure as I front crawled my way up the outdoor hotel swimming pool and back down again. Swimming had to be the best exercise possible and since coming to Greece I had really built up my stamina. It was unbelievable to think how far I had come. Initially I had struggled to doggy-paddle a single width. Now I could do lengths for an hour at a time without too much of a struggle.

Boredom was my biggest obstacle with it but I’d purchased a water-resistant music centre so that wasn’t a problem. And I’d loaded it with the recordings I had made of Dahlia’s reminiscences about her life. I listened to them over and over again, absorbing the information about her life and career; about the different people she knew and the way she interacted with them.

I did at least three hour long swims a day now and I was thinking of building that up to longer endurance swims of two or three hours. Plus the jogging. Plus the rowing machine and the cross trainer. Plus the squats and the sit-ups.

I was maniacal and obsessive and I was loving it.

I diverted to the pool’s exit ladder and climbed it quickly, the water cascading off me in the bright sunshine. I felt great and I was just starting to look great too. I still had a good way to go but the training was working wonders. It was amazing what unlimited time and unlimited money could achieve if coupled with desperate yearning.

I heard clapping and smiled when I saw my personal trainer, Ambrus, leaning against a table, watching me emerge. “If I had not seen you every day then I would not believe my eyes Miss Western,” he said. “Your progress has been spectacular.”

I beamed proudly and unreservedly, looking down at myself. I couldn’t believe it either. I still wasn’t slim as such; not yet; but the steps I had taken had carried me so far. The laser liposuction treatments had removed bulk from all the difficult areas and the five star beauty treatments I’d supported it with were ensuring I downgraded my weight gracefully and without unsightly side effects. Coupled with obsessional exercise and regimented diet, I was further along with my diabolical master plan than I could ever have expected.

“How do you feel?” asked Ambrus. “You look great!”

“Fabulous,” I replied. “Really fabulous. Just look at me.”

“I am looking. It is remarkable. I have never had such a great success before. I should take your picture and put it on my flyers.”

I took up my towel and dried my hair. My hair was fuller now and looked lovely in the bright Mediterranean sunshine. I patted my arms and my legs, loving the thinner me.

“Most women would be happy with what you have achieved so far,” said Ambrus.

“Not me,” I replied with a grin. “I’m going all the way. Now that I’ve gone this far I can see that there isn’t really any kind of barrier. I can be as slim as I want.” I shook my head ruefully. “All these years, how fat I’ve been… I never realised that it was even possible to change. I thought I was trapped in that ridiculous fat suit; like I’d never get out of it.”

He nodded and I became quiet; reflective.

“Thank you,” I said. “Really. I couldn’t have done this without you. And there’s still a long way to go. I’m hoping you’ll stay with me to the end.”

“I couldn’t let my best client down, could I?”

I said goodbye to him and picked up my bag, heading toward the bar. He’d be back later but to be honest I didn’t need him anywhere near as much now. The training was habitual now. It was like these awful boot camp things except over a far more enduring period and it was visibly getting me the results that I wanted now. I was getting slimmer by the day, going down size after size. And it wasn’t just the actual loss of weight. My greater fitness was improving my posture and muscle tone so that what fat I did still have was held in more convincingly.

The pool bar was a circular stand with a straw roof. Half a dozen hotel guests sat on tall stools around it while the Greek barmaid hurried lackadaisically round to take their orders. I took a seat and ordered some fresh fruit juice. I hadn’t drunk alcohol in three weeks and that was unheard of. But I felt better for it; a lot better.

I got the drink and slugged it down swiftly, enjoying the flush of taste and refreshment. It wasn’t until I set down the empty glass that I noticed the dishy man sitting across from me who was watching me with a gentle smile on his face.

He was in his mid-thirties with tanned skin, curly blond hair and dimples and it took me a minute to register his attention and what it meant because this was the first time – in my life – that this had happened to me: that a handsome man had flirted with me using his eyes; had looked at me with lust and admiration roiling inside of him.

I had to check myself; look down at my toned legs and slimmer stomach; my cleavage; to believe he wasn’t checking out somebody else.

I was like a schoolgirl on the inside but I knew I couldn’t show it. I just gave him a little nod and raised the corners of my mouth then ordered another drink. He picked his glass up and sauntered round to my side of the circular bar.

There was an empty seat beside me.

He took it.

Still I didn’t look at him.

Then finally I turned and let him enjoy the sight of my generous cleavage before I let him know that I was willing to talk.


  1. Nice comparison between the two types of men now available to Dahlia and Melissa

  2. BRILLIANT CHAPTER! The descriptions of how M now Looks & feels about herself are great, as how she keeps her motivation up. She loves being called & is getting ACCUSTOMED to being called MISS Western. The lipscution bit was well handled & love that she uses the hours in vigorours swimming to listen & memorize poor D's wonderful, early life. Great that we see M not drinking any more while poor D is suing the comfort of a gin bittle in her small,flithly room. I wonder if D wlll developing a DRINKING PROBLEM? I am assuming that D is listening to tapes of m's miserable life as she cleans. I wonder how their voices are coming & does D now sound like a lower class uneducated woman & M like a pampered well educated upper class
    And the savage, even brutal & tragic, dramtic irony is always with us. WOmen spends perhaps trillions of dollars a year to look beautiful & attractive & here we find poor D, who had once been in the top .! of the top 1 % of woman in the world is now DELIERATELY destroyinhg her beauty, while M is doing eveyrthing she can to be beautiful. & using D'smoney todo so. All part of what she calls frankly her diabolical plan.
    Then a handsome, rich high class man is approaching M for the first time in her life to be attractive to such a man. & the ugly greasy cook that D is going to get involved with, BRRRR! The story is hypnotic & it seems so real to dip into this nightmare in warm Greek sun. Each chapter leaves us wanting more.

    1. Thanks Eric! It's good to get such detailed comments.

      Yeah, the contrast is pretty grim for poor Dahlia. Her self-destructive urges are getting out of hand. Soon she really won't recognise herself. Though that's sort of the point for her.

  3. I love the perfect asymmetry you are drawing here. The two of them now experiencing the same kind of themes, just with wholly different content. Melissa getting encouragement and enthusiasm. Dahlia sinking into depravity..... Mike W

  4. I love the parallels both Dahlia and Melissa in this moment have a lot to be "proud" of. I'm not sure whether to be happy for them or revolted but either way I can't look away.

    1. Yeah. In some ways it's terrible what they are doing, but in another they are amazing people to have the determination to see it through as much as they have.

  5. As for Dahlia's is concerned the ancient saying applies "Be care what you wish for you might get it"

    1. I don't know... She's getting everything she could ever want! And then some!

  6. Wow!Wow!Wow!
    That story becomes a masterwork indeed.
    I don`t think that I read anything nearly as erotic as this powerful tale about the fall of supermodel Dahlia Western and the rise of her cleaner.
    It gets better by each chapter. The only thing I`m afraid of is the tale´s possible outcome.
    The original story´s ending reminds me of the typical fairy tale where the good woman wins (despite her kinkiness) while the bad woman`s scheme collapses and she gets beaten by a mouthful of her own medicine.
    I think that such a resolution of things sort of nullifies the tragic of Dahlia´s downfall and also negates the "Be careful what you wish for" - message of the whole story.
    If you plan to stay close to the original tale, maybe you could think about presenting us Book No. 3 in two different versions with an alternative ending in which poor Dahlia ends as the victim of her own kinky desires and Melissa´s masterful manipulations. What about Dahlia having a disease that needs an expensive operation to cure and Melissa not giving her any money, letting her die in poverty while living the high life and thus irrevocably taking Dahlias place? Just a thought.
    However you decide... i can´t wait for the next chapter.

    1. Bloody hell. Some of you guys really want Dahlia to suffer!

      Considering how different to the expected path already is there's a good chance the ending will be somewhat different but I do like the original ending... We'll see!

      Oh yes. We'll see...

      (Evil laughter)

    2. Your wonderful story has many changes from the original, for one thing D is not behind the swaps & is far more passive & weak & this M seems much smarter.
      To be honest I didn't think your original CLEANER ending was as good as the story, which had real nightmarish thrust & power. One of my all time favorite moments was when the new Model dragged the new fat cleaner in front of a mirror & asked her who;s the fat ugly cleaner & who's the ebeauiful mode & ends with this wonderfu part

      "She stalked past me. I watched her open the door, leaving it
      carelessly open, and go out to the waiting car.

      All the glory and fame that had been mine was waiting for her.
      The car would take her to the photographers and celebrities and
      bright lights and inane conversations. I only wished I were
      going in her place for a moment. Then I remembered why I left
      that world in the first place.

      Topaz threw me a glance as the door was shut for her. For a
      second a shiver of what could have been disgust passed over her
      face before it was replaced by a sneering smile which broke out
      into a grin.

      As the car pulled away she was laughing loud enough for me to
      hear her through the glass, her head back, slender neck exposed.

      * * *


      I laughed until my throat got sore. I had to make myself stop.
      To see my stupid ignorant arrogant boss reduced to the state she
      was now - standing there in my old fat body, watching me leave.

      I hated my body and life as Melissa. She was welcome to it.

    3. Yes... This passage really is a stroke of genius!!!

  7. I wonder have they crossed each other yet? is Dahlia fatter yet?

    1. I would say so. Another reason I'm thinking of inserting an extra interim chapter in to the final manuscript.

    2. money and style or lack there of can carry you a ways and they both started out pretty far apart so I wasn't sure

    3. There should be a crossover chapter I think.

  8. I can picture Dahlia visiting Melissa in her luxurious hotel and feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Her shabby ill fitting clothes, her possible body odour in this hot climate plus her generally disheveled appearance make her feel totally out of place in the hotel's cosmopolitan milieu.
    it would be interesting for Melissa to visit her in her shabby hotel during her working hours. Dahlia should probably have to explain to Maxine who this powerful and rich lady is. Probably she would have to accept that she was working as her maid back in UK.
    Looking forward to their next encounter.
    Monica G.