"Really, Mr. Ballard, why should we bargain for something we already can get for free?" Mr. Smith asked.
This wasn't going the way Stanley Ballard imagined! When he stepped through the doors of Lucifer, Satan, Beelzebub, and Smith, he had hoped to at least present his case. After all, weren't souls the most valuable thing a person had? Surely, they were worth something?
But other than the name on the door, nothing about this place bespoke to being an office of Hell! Even Mr. Smith appeared to be a small, unintimidating sort of man. At 3ft-6, he looked more like something from an old Looney Tunes cartoon than a representative of the second most powerful being in the universe!
"Mr. Ballard, we only bargain for those souls that would never think of coming to us. If you come to us, why...we already own you!"
Mr. Smith looked upon the crestfallen human standing before him. He thought how easily it was to manipulate these pathetic humans. Yes, Lucifer wanted their souls, but he had to get humans to agree to something more than a life in the fiery pits. Sometimes, he needed these souls for special tasks.
"Tell me what you want in exchange, and I'll run it by the senior partners," Mr. Smith offered hopefully.
Stanley wanted three things to improve his life on earth. He was not a handsome man, in fact, he was rather homely, with a huge nose, beady eyes, and sparse hair.! He was nearly broke! He couldn't even rub two nickels together: how could he possibly show a woman a good time, even if they would go out with him.
Stanley had nothing going for him. Women despised him. Men despised him. Why, he couldn't even get a blowjob through a glory hole! His sex life was almost non-existent! If it wasn't for that equally homely and pathetic woman that lived two doors down, he wouldn't have a sex life at all!
"One: I want to be incredibly handsome. Two: I want to be so filthy rich, everyone can't help but notice me! And finally, I want beautiful women for incredible sex!"
Mr. Smith paid scant attention to the first two requests: he'd heard these from men and women alike for several centuries, now. However, the third request had possibilities to help his boss out with another problem!
"Mr. Ballard, I will run these by my partners and get back to you in a couple of weeks."
Stanley had hoped to walk out with an immediate answer, but, being a bank employee, he understood that these things sometimes take time. He would be patient a little longer.
Two weeks later, he had his answer.
"Mr. Bullard, we are pleased to grant your price for the sale of your soul to us. Come by at your earliest convenience to sign the contract, and you will enjoy the benefits of your new life!"
Stanley was at the office at nine the next morning. He called in to his boss and asked to take his vacation: his boss was more than pleased to have Stanley out of the office for a couple of weeks. He now had a chance of banging that hot new temp some of the other managers were talking about!
"This form shows you agree to this transaction: initial here and sign here. This form releases us from any injuries you may incur with your new lifestyle. This form states we gain full possession of you once all three conditions of your request are met. Good luck, Mr. Ballard."
Stanley took Mr. Smith's outstretched hand and was surprised at the burn he received. He felt pain wrack his body as the transformation took over. He looked into the mirror and saw an incredibly handsome blonde haired, blue-eyed Adonis looking back at him.
Stanley used his vacation to get used to the new him. He'd emptied his entire savings account and flew to Atlantic City and blew it all playing craps.
The Monday following his vacation, he returned to work, excited about the new him. But he couldn't get in the door: his new face didn't match the picture on his I.D.! None of his co-workers recognized him. Security threatened to call the police. He convinced them to check his finger prints and his retinal files. Fortunately, those hadn't changed.
"I wondered why you needed the two weeks off. I understand why you emptied your accounts. Those plastic surgeons due incredible work, and you're over your scars so quick!" said one manager.
"You look incredible," said his one female boss. "Want to get a drink, later? Maybe come by my place?"
Stanley was pleased with the results: people were looking at him with respect and admiration. The first part was going according to plan.
"Stanley, would you step into my office, please?" asked the manager, Mr. Thompkins.
Stanley walked into the room to see two very serious looking men with Mr. Thompkins.
"Stanley, we seem to have a very serious situation here," he said. "These gentlemen are from the IRS and FBI. There appears to be some irregularities in your personal accounts. It seems you emptied them three weeks ago, but one billion dollars were deposited to them this morning. Can you explain this?"
Stanley gulped, and said, "My great uncle Morris passed away and left me his entire estate. He had no family of his own, but loved me like I was his own child. I expected he might leave me a few hundred dollars, maybe even a thousand. I certainly had no idea he was that rich!"
"You do realize you will have to pay fifty percent in taxes, don't you? And we can't release any to you until we get a copy of the will."
"I understand," Stanley lied. "I can get a copy from my lawyer for you."
Mr. Smith pulled out the proper forms and had them faxed to Stanley's bank. But the FBI froze the money until they could be sure Stanley wasn't selling drugs or money laundering.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ballard, but the FBI and IRS work out of a different office in Hell than I do. My hands are tied," said Mr. Smith. "Here's some cash to tide you over until the funds are released.
Stanley was in bed with two of the most beautiful redheads he'd ever seen. Both had large breasts, narrow waists and nice round asses. In fact. One was about to let him butt fuck her, when her husband kicked down the door and beat him to a pulp.
When he recovered, two other women got into a fight over him and the loser tried to slice him open with a knife. When he got out of the hospital, he rushed over the Mr. Smith's office.
"I'm handsome, but no one really believes I'm me! I have a fortune I can't touch! And to top it off, I have beautiful women fitting over me and jealous lovers trying to kill me after I have great sex with their women."
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I may have a solution that might help. See Joanie, my secretary? She's recently single. And I know she has been eyeing you every time you come in my office. She's hot and loves anal sex! Go ahead! See if it's not so!"
Stanley looked over to see a beautiful raven-haired young woman, barely into her twenties, looking his way with something that could only be described as adoration, or naked desire. She had nice, full breasts and a beautiful shapely bottom with legs to match.
"Oh, Mr. Ballard! I'd love to go out with you! Pick me up around eight!"
Stanley was walking on clouds the rest of the day. Mr. Smith's secretary was obviously hot for him. It should be easy to get Joanie into bed!
Joanie answered Stanley's knock wearing the sheerest negligee possible: nothing was hidden from his imagination. She had beautiful nipples and a cleanly shave mound. Yes, things were definitely looking up!
"I've been anxiously waiting for you," Joanie purred. "I'm so wet, my outfit is ruined. Why don't you rip it off me? Please, make passionate love to me!"
Stanley reached up to her neck and easily tore her gown from her body. He stood back and admired her. Joanie was nearly as tall as he was. Her breasts were full and ripe, topped with beautiful come-suck-me nipples. He grabbed both breasts and squeezed them roughly.
"Twist my nipples! Pinch them hard!"
