A CLOCKWORK ANGEL

A sexy update of the beloved classic. Please comment nicely!

So how my story starts, my sisters, is that I am a rich girl living in a bolshy vine-covered sort of mansion in steamy south Florida. My father is a starry old banker type, bald and fat but very kind and like indulgent, always buying me sports cars and jet skis and sparkly diamonds and all that sort of cal. My poor dear mama having snuffed it years ago, when I was a baby like in diapers, there is really nobody around to tell me what to do.

Having all these lovely things has made me a bit spoiled; accustomed to having whatever I want at any time of day or night. So when dear old dad gets himself another wife, a meddling interfering sort of stepmother, there is this nasty accident where she somehow gets her head bashed in right by the outdoor pool. It wasn't fair, but with me still holding the murder weapon, and the red red krovvy still dripping from my rookers, the horrible ghastly police sort of jumped to conclusions and sent me right to prison.

Then there is this very dull and dreary stretch of time, with me just shuffling along in a blue prison jumpsuit, standing in long lines, eating cally food and wearing the same old platties day after day. And the girls fight all the time over things like lipstick and perfume. So stepping forward and volunteering for this special treatment that will get me out of prison early seems a very smart thing to do.

"Ah, yes. Prisoner #362436, full name Angela Barrington. Take one step forward please." The handsome young doctor in the white coat looked me up and down. I liked his cologne and his smooth-shaved litso and the way his very dark blue glazzies sort of drank in my face and figure. When he smiled my heart did flips.

"My friends call me Angel," I said, in a very soft and demure goloss. I felt I was really going to enjoy this special treatment.