Date: Wed, 23 Apr 2003 00:10:01 +0100
From: Beverly Taff
Subject: Snake 5

	Jack Bentley knew he still had a long way to go.  The door from his
office loomed like some portal into hell as he plucked up the courage to
sally forth in his new female persona.  He knew he should step forward with
all the confidence of his previous male existence; after all, it was his
own office and his own business, his own front door for God's sake!  Sadly
his feminine personality simply refused to accept the male logic striving
to assert itself.  Male confidence and aggression simply refused to move
along the new female neural pathways in his woman's brain.

	Instead, Jack Bentley felt distinctly nervous.  His heart beat
timorously and his knees pressed nervously together as he subconsciously
anticipated some unrecognisable assault on his newfound femininity.  He
realised the compressed knees was a typical girlish reaction to some
unknown threat and he tried to impose his masculine will.  It was no good.
He found his delicate little fingers rising uncertainly to his cheeks and
he uttered a high-pitched little squeak of anguish as his nerves began to
fail him.

The door seemed to grow darker as he forced himself to mince fearfully
towards it and extended a tentative limp wristed hand to test the latch.
The door did not attack him so he peeped between the shade and the
doorframe to ascertain the lay of the land outside.  Nobody was about so he
hefted his briefcase then cautiously eased the door ajar and finally peered
outside before finally taking the plunge.

He locked the door behind him and automatically tried to slip the keys into
his pocket before realising his tight fitting pencil-skirted suite had no
pockets.  He frowned and swung the keys on his finger as he swayed
self-consciously in his tight skirt towards the 4X4.

The high seat of the four by four posed a serious obstacle.  He could not
hoist the narrow hem his skirt above his womanly hips so he could not
spread his legs to slide one leg into the cab.  Then he remembered how
girls entered cars.  He pushed the briefcase across the seat to the
passenger side and ruefully considered his femininity.  The briefcase felt
heavy and he almost strained his skinny little shoulders.  The next
obstacle made a mockery of his reduced stature.  He simply couldn't hitch
his bum up high enough to slide onto the seat and then swing his legs in
whilst keeping his knees together.  Every time he tried, his silky
underwear slithered inside the satiny lining of his pencil skirt and it
hiked up as far as the hem would allow before ludely exposing his upper
thighs.  His efforts were reduced to farce as the hem pinned his thighs and
knees together and he had to tug and wriggle to pull it down after each
ridiculously futile attempt.

Any male observer would have had a field day watching his pathetic comical
antics.  Eventually he had to slip his jacket off and stretch his arms as
high as he could to seize the grab handle above the door.

After a few attempts he finally caught the grab handle but then discovered
that his slender little girlish arms couldn't heave his body without some
unladylike scrabbling with his feet.  Even then, as he finally achieved the
impossible, his monumental new boobs spilled out of his ill-fitting bra and
popped two buttons off his shirt.  For a second he hung like sacrificial
martyr whilst his splendid pink globes stood out like glistening beacons
inviting attention, then his panic gave him extra strength.  The adrenaline
surged through his body and he made one last superhuman effort.

Gasping with embarrassment and exhaustion he sank thankfully into the huge
bucket seat and ducked down to attend to his wayward tits.  He was only
just in time.  A car he immediately identified as one of the port
commissioner's swept into the car park and pulled up alongside the 4X4.
Jack had just managed to replace his jacket as his mind raced to prepare an
explanation for the male Jack Bentley's disappearance. As the car stopped
beside him, Jack's head emerged above the windowsill of the 4X4 and he
lowered the window.  The commissioner leaned out and Jack recognised him as
his friendly contact.

"Hello Miss.  Is Mr Bentley about?"

"Uhhm. No sir.  I should think he's still away in Seattle."

"I don't think so.  He failed to show at the meeting."

"Oh dear.  Well I haven't seen him this morning so I expect he'll show up
later."

"Well Miss.  Are you his secretary?"

"Oh.  Uhhm- yes," stumbled Jack, "I've just started working for him."

"I see, well will you ask him to contact me as soon as possible?  It's
urgent."

"Yes sir.  OK.  Is there any other message?"

"Not for now.  Tell him Bob Nelson called.  He'll know what it's about."

"Very well sir; Bob Nelson, yes sir, I'll remember."

"That's his car isn't it?"

"Uhhm, yes."

"Is he back then?"

"I don't think so.  I don't think he took this car.  It was here in town
last night.  I saw it right here in the car park."

Jack stuck as close to the truth as he could; he was an expert at not
telling the whole truth whilst not actually telling an outright lie.  The
commissioner's eyes lingered on Jack's swollen frontage then swivelled away
guiltily as Jack caught him staring.  Jack nervously checked the open shirt
to find the missing buttons had exposed acres of his satiny bra and
cleavage.

`You pervy old bastard!' he reflected as he tugged his lapel and turned to
hide his cleavage as he started the 4X4.

The commissioners eyes tried manfully to remain fixed on Jack's office
door whilst the female version of Jack explained he was going to the bank.
With no more to be said they bid each other farewell and Jack navigated the
4X4 onto the main street.

There were no more incidents and he gratefully took the maximum allowable
from the cash dispenser before setting off to shop for more clothes.

This time he went to a select lady's outfitters where Jack Bentley had an
account.  As a man, he used it to buy presents for his current girlfriend
but now he was going to try and bluff his way towards purchasing a decent
lady's suit on his own account.  He knew the proprietor well; indeed he had
once dated her so he hoped he might be able to persuade her to accept his
account details.  The door buzzed discreetly and the proprietor emerged
smiling from the back as Jack mustered up the courage to speak.

"Good afternoon Miss."

"Gosh is it that late already?"

"Well it's just turned twelve young lady.  I'm Molly, how can I help you?"

"I- I'm looking for a more suitable outfit."

Molly pursed her lips as a condescending smile flickered briefly across her
face.

"Yes my dear, what's the occasion?"

"I'm Jack Bentley's new secretary, Jacqueline.  He's taken me on to help
handle the harbour business; that the new estate in the old port."

"I see my dear, so it's business suit your after."

"And some stuff to go with it."

"Accessories," you mean.

"Uhhm, yes.  Oh and some underwear and stuff, a blouse or two and some
heels."

Molly's practiced eyes had already recognised one of Jack Bentley's
expensive cotton shirts under the young girl's inexpensive suit.  It was
obvious that this young thing was Jack's most recent conquest.

"Is he with you?"

"Uh no.  I've borrowed that great four-wheeled thing monster of his until
he fixes me up with something smaller.  It's a brute to drive."

Molly had several times had to be helped by Jack into similar vehicles when
they were an item.  Jack had always had a penchant for huge great
four-by-fours.  The one this girl was driving was about Jack's tenth
edition.  Molly smiled inwardly, as she studied the girl's tight skirt and
small stature.

"Yes dear, I'll bet it was no fun driving that thing in that skirt.  I
think it best if you choose a four-piece suit to give you some options.
You know, tailored slacks, skirt, vest and jacket."

Jack nodded dumbly and added.

"He says to put it on his account and send the bill to his office."

"Yes, that's OK.  Have you got any ID?"

"Only his credit card.  He's busy with this new port account."

Molly smiled condescendingly at the naive young bimbo then nodded.

`The poor girl was just another lamb to the slaughter.  Jack wouldn't even
feel the pain when he dropped her.  He could stand a few dollars on his
account and he always settled up at the end of the month.

"Well just this once my dear.  I should really clear it with Jack first,
but this time I'll make an exception.  Just one thing, he has a special
word for his girlfriends, d'you know what it is?"

Jack whispered the word `Dotty' into Molly's ear and she smiled knowingly.
That was always Jack's special term of endearment.  His old flames, who
numbered many in the town, all referred to him by this private reference.
Whenever the girls met, the words `Dotty Jack' were like the password into
some special private club.

It was essentially a term of endearment for the old flames found it hard to
be angry with the man. Jack behaved like the perfect gentleman for he never
discussed his old flames and always remembered their individual birthdays
and Christmas.  Molly's salon did very well out of Jack's Christmas list

"Right young lady step into the changing rooms and let's see what we've
got."

Jack heaved a silent sigh of relief.  `That was a huge hurdle cleared.'

He followed Molly's delightful wiggle into the large cubicle and was almost
tempted to grope her.  That would have been a disaster however.  Jack knew
from past experience that Molly was paranoid about lesbians.  As a young
shop assistant fresh from high school, she had served in a shop owned by
two lesbian partners. For long years she had stoically endured their
attentions until she had the wherewithal to set out on her own.

It was then that Jack had met Molly and had partly funded her ambitions.
She had been feeling vulnerable and nervous and the bank had refused to
provide all the finance.  On looking back, she had long realised that Jack
had only helped to set her up in business as an entrée into her panties.
However, she could not wholly condemn him for he had, as always, made it
clear from the outset; -no strings.  They had remained an item for several
years then, when she was successful and the salon was making a profit, he
had courteously made his excuses and dropped her.  Ever the gentleman, he
had signed over his sleeping partnership in the business and made a clean
break.

Molly had been devastated emotionally but made secure financially.  She
still had mixed feelings about Jack Bentley.  `But then,' she reflected,
`most of his old partners did.'  Jack Bentley was an enigma, a confirmed
bachelor and a perfect gentleman, but still an enigma.

All his old flames agreed that you could read most men like a book but not
Jack Bentley.  He was something different, `a one off'.

The young bimbo suddenly brought Molly back to her senses.

"What d'you think?"

Molly's eye's fell on the girl's bountiful balcony and frowned at the
ill-fitting bra.

"Well that'll have to go young lady, hasn't anybody ever fitted you
properly?"

The young girl's gaze fell earthwards and she wagged her head nervously.
Molly concluded, that she probably came from the wrong side of the tracks
and Jack had done his usual `white-knight in shining armour' thing.

"How old are you pet?  Inquired Molly solicitously.

"Twenty," she mumbled as she self-consciously unhooked the bra.

Molly recognised the girl's uncertainty.  Her firm fulsome globes were
every man's wet dream and she was probably still trying to come to terms
with the inevitable attention.  It would have taken the confidence of a
heavyweight boxer to carry off those melons.  She turned the girl around
and looked into her eyes but didn't find the usual world-weariness
associated with well-endowed girls.  This girl seemed to be more ignorant
than lacking confidence.

"I'll see what I've got.  You look like a thirty-four `E', d'you mind if I
measure?"

"Go ahead."

Molly pulled the tape from her waistband and stood stupidly as the girl
simply waited.

"Well raise your arms darling!"

"Oh!  Sorry, - forgot."

The girl raised her arms and the globes responded beautifully.  They rose
on her chest and presented themselves for inspection like two perfect
fruit.  Molly was impressed that the sinews were still providing so much
natural support.  It was as if the girl had only just developed her boobs a
few weeks earlier, no time yet to develop any sag.  With the right bra,
this girl was going to make men's eyes water.

After double-checking all the girl's measurements, Molly strode
purposefully away and Jack savoured the busy click of heels on floor.  He
realised he was going to have to wear heels to complete his image.  His new
attuned girly senses had readily detected Molly's professional admiration
for his spectacular figure.  Molly returned with three different white bras
and held them before Jack.

"These are the only styles I've got in your size, though I've other colours
in stock.  We'll just try them in white then you can decide the colours
after."

Jack examined the beautifully patterned lacy validations of his newfound
femininity and nodded affirmation to Molly.

"This one first."

Molly nodded and deftly reached around Jack's slender waist as her forehead
and hair brushed Jack's nipples.  She sensed Jack's involuntary twitch and
her eye's narrowed slightly.

"Sensitive are we dear?"

Jack's eyes reopened with surprise and he nodded.

"Extremely."

"That time is it?"

For a moment Jack failed to grasp Molly's meaning then he realised she was
referring to `womanly troubles'.

"Eh, no," he replied, carefully skirting around an issue he still knew
little about.

"Good.  You should avoid getting fitted at that time, sometimes they swell
up a whole cup size."

Jack made a mental note and lowered his arms as Molly gently manipulated
her fingers around the cups to ease his breasts.

"There darling.  Is that better?"

With his arms back to their normal positions, Jack breathed with relief.
It was the first time he'd been really comfortable since the change.  The
cups seemed to massage his breasts whilst caressing his stiffening nipples.
As he turned to face the mirror, Molly noticed his engorged condition and
smiled knowingly.

"My, we are sensitive aren't we?  Is it always like that?"

Jack gasped a little and nodded as he wondered how he was going to avoid
being stimulated to distraction every time he put on a bra.  Molly had
already anticipated his dilemma.

"Here, let's try this one.  The cup is lined and more protective."

Jack removed the first bra a little regretfully.  He was beginning to enjoy
the sensations of lacy patterned satin against his engorged nipples.  As
the bra came off, Molly's eyes widened at the stiff strawberry studs that
boldly advertised Jack's aroused condition.

"My oh my.  We're going to have to be careful, aren't we?  Come on, this
one should do the trick my dear.  See, the cup is lined and preformed to
hide any obvious little problems."

Gratefully Jack slipped his arms through the straps and Molly fastened the
back as Jack poured his globes into the preformed cups like pink jellies
into a mould.  This time his nipples were contained and hidden by the
supporting inserts and he turned to nod with satisfaction at his
reflection.  Molly looked over his shoulder and smiled.

"Stand erect darling.  There's no need to be ashamed and the bra will
support you better.  You're a lovely girl and you've got a figure millions
of women would die for."

Jack obeyed her and his eyes widened with appreciation at the stunning
figure in the mirror.

"I'll take all three styles.  They're lovely."

"Very well dear, now what colours."

"What colour blouses have you got? Asked Jack as his feminised brain swept
along its steep learning curve."

"Quite right dear.  Come and look."

Without a thought, Jack emerged from the cubicle and Molly led him to a
stack of draws where she kept her various tops and blouses.  Tactfully she
locked the salon's front door and explained.

"It's lunch time anyway and this will take a while.  Let's look at suits
and dresses first.  I'll get the matching pants for that bra.  Slip your
skirt off."

Jack hesitated momentarily then recovered his composure and did as asked.
Molly nodded slowly as she appreciated the girl's beautiful figure.

`This girl was going to be a dream to dress.  Apart from the bust, she was
a perfect clotheshorse.'  Molly wondered how she had never noticed her
around the town. It was not like Molly to miss a girl as perfectly suited
to modelling as this little gem.  `Jack Bentley had excelled himself
again.'  She mused.

The girl turned self-consciously and gracefully changed her panties as
Molly gathered some outfits from the racks.

"That's better young lady.  Good clothes fit better if the basics are
sound.  Here, let's try this."

Jack was becoming progressively bolder as Molly continued her professional
sales technique and put the `young girl' at her ease.  He took the
proffered skirt and stepped easily into it as Molly pulled out a wide
selection of tops from the draws.  Jack noted with secret delight that they
were all filmy satiny creations and the colour range was just perfect.
Once more he realised that his female eyes were now seeing colours very
differently from a man's view.  Somehow the slightest variations of shade
and tone seemed to leap out at him.  With his man's eyes, colours had been
little more than the old seven `schoolboy' colours of the physical
spectrum.  The rainbow colours of red, orange, yellow; green, blue, indigo
and violet - and he had never seen much difference between indigo and
violet.

Now he began to understand and savour the delightful subtle variations and
nuances of colour that women enjoyed.

The skirt was a plain charcoal grey; just like his previous cheap one but
this new one was of a far better quality and style.  Again, it was a pencil
style ending just below the knee as had the previous one, but it fitted him
much better.  As he twirled in the mirror it advertised his new assets in a
more sophisticated manner.  Jack could readily see the classier lines that
would have caught his eye even as a man when he was summing a woman's
potential.

`Yes, Molly certainly carried some excellent styles.'

"What colour top d'you think?"  Ventured Molly as she interrupted Jack's
appreciative thoughts.

Jack's eyes fell back to the blouses and finally chose a teal top with wide
lacy shoulder straps and heavy lacy scalloping bordering the frontage.
Molly followed his eyes and held it up then turned to the draw.

"You're lucky.  I've got this one in your size and a bra to match.  Here we
are."

She held the top against Jack's body and felt him shudder slightly as the
silky fabric slid evocatively across his white bra.  After changing the bra
and slipping the top over his body Jack felt himself enter nirvana.  The
clingy top contoured his breasts and sheathed his slender midriff almost
like a silky second skin.

The new teal bra was almost invisible under the wide lacy straps and his
cleavage only showed a classy hint of promise as his bust nestled just
perfectly within the top's embrace.  It was only now he realised how
beautifully cut and tailored the top was.  Molly ran her fingers down his
back and gently unbuttoned the skirt again before slipping the top neatly
under the open waistband and zipping him up again.

"There, that's neatly tucked.  You don't want the creases to show if you
can help it.  This top fit's just perfectly, take a look."

Jack felt his heart hammering as he savoured the top's silky extension
under the waistband of the skirt easing the roughness of the waistband's
reinforcing.  He turned to study his amazing profile and felt that familiar
warmth return to his loins.  Molly held out the beautifully tailored jacket
and he slid his bare arms into the lined sleeves as Molly fussed with the
collar then adjusted the lapels over Jack's spectacular bust.

"We can adjust that button a fraction and the fit will be just perfect.
Take it off again and have a look at the accessories to match that top.
I'll do this button.

Jack sorted through an assortment of matching shoes and purses and selected
several sets for Molly to finalise when she'd finished the jacket button.
Molly returned with the altered jacket and nodded her head agreeably at
Jack's selection.  She discarded just two sets from the dozen pairs that
Jack had arrayed on the counter.  Jack smiled appreciatively.  Already his
woman's eye was combining with his previous male good taste to achieve a
good sense of feminine style.  He felt an unexpected shudder of
anticipation at the thought of wearing `high-heeled-shoes'.  Molly chose
the obvious matching teal accessories then boxed up the other pairs for
Jack to take.  Finally, she selected several mix-and-match casual items and
the shopping was completed.  Strangely, Jack felt a little disappointed.
For some strange reason he wanted to buy just a few more things.

I'm becoming a `shopaholic',' he mused thoughtfully. `It must be the woman
thing again.'

As Jack stood gazing appreciatively in the mirror admiring his new ensemble
Molly stood back and nodded with satisfaction.

"Yes.  That's excellent.  Now, your hair needs a bit of tidying so I would
suggest Angela two doors down.  The rest of you is perfect my dear.  You
hardly need any slap with that flawless complexion.  Just a hint of
lipstick maybe and some eye shadow, then you'll knock em' dead girl.  Where
have you been hiding?  You're not local, I'd have seen you around- and
noticed you."

"I- I'm a distant cousin of Mr Bentley," lied Jack.  "I'm from his father's
side, though I've got my mother's colouring. I'm from back east."

"Yes that figures, " smiled Molly, "I suppose all the males in Jack's
family would have good taste.  Well my dear, I'll help you into that
lumping great truck of his and you can be on your way.  Tell Jack to settle
up at the end of the week.

That's a fair bit of my weekly turnover you've got on your shoulders and in
those bags, but you're worth it young lady."

"Why thank you," finished Jack as Molly helped him into the RV.

As she passed the bags of shopping up to Jack, he could have sworn Molly's
fingers deliberately kept brushing his breasts but he could not be sure.

`After all women were always much more tactile than men.'

Nevertheless he felt his nipples getting distinctly hard even inside the
supportive, protective satiny cups of his bra.

Whilst he considered this idea that Molly might have certain tendencies, he
felt another shudder of pleasure as the silky underwear slithered
provocatively against the lining of his suite.  Then he decided Molly was
probably straight.  After all it was his seemingly supersensitive nipples
that had picked up on the ever so delicate glancing touch of Molly's
fingers.  He concluded he was still adjusting to his nipple's newfound
feminine super sensitivity.

`Yes,' he concluded as the shudder endured in his whole body, `women
certainly had it best when it came to sensations and feelings.'

The last thing Jack saw was Molly's wide smile in his mirror.

Molly was already having thoughts about this pretty young girl.

`Strange little girl that,' she pondered, `a girl who chose to stay in the
tight skirt rather than change into the matching slacks to climb into that
thumping great truck thing.  And that little shudder she gave, when I
brushed against her.  Interesting,' she mused.

Jack Bentley, AKA Jacqueline Bentley missed Molly's knowing look as he
drove off.  He was too engrossed in the intimate sensations next to his
body as he struggled to operate the heavy foot pedals.  Every time he tried
to change gear or brake, his silk encased butt and glossy pantyhose tended
to slither tighter into his skirt.  This caused the skirt's waistband to
tug at his satiny top and this in turn to slip and slide erotically over
his bra cups.  By the time he had `man-handled' the 4X4 back to his office
his nipples were singing an oratorio of pure lust.

Gasping with pleasure, he almost fell out of the cab and only managed to
grab a few of his purchases.  With the lined pencil skirt still
constraining his silk clad legs he wiggled up the steps to his office and
upstairs to his private flat.  With fumbling fingers he eventually
unbuttoned the back of the skirt and stood for a brief moment admiring the
delicious site reflected in the mirror.  Then, unable to constrain himself
any longer, he flung himself onto his bed and immediately attended to the
urgent demands of his aroused sensitive new body.

`Oh God!' He gasped, ` was there any way this fantastic new body was ever
going to slow down?  In addition to being turned into a girl, he wondered
if he had also been changed into a nymphomaniac; and a lesbian one at
that?'

As the afternoon shadows lengthened Jack knew he had to attend to some
urgent business and e-mail the Port Authority Commissioners to explain his
absence before the offices shut.  His body however, had other ideas.  Jack
simply couldn't drag himself away from the overwhelming sensations and
desperate demands of his womanly condition.  Gradually as one orgasm
followed another, he undressed himself item by item until he lay naked on
the bed.  Even then there seemed little relief.  The cool breeze of the air
conditioning titillated and stiffened his constantly sensitive nipples.

`Hell', he gasped after the umpteenth orgasm,' was there no end to a
woman's libido?'

Eventually he realised, he had missed the office deadline and greedily
resigned himself to a night of unbridled lust.  There seemed to be no
satisfying Jacqueline's appetite.

The following morning he awoke feeling a little sore.  At first he thought
it was his own abuse of this delicious new body then he realised his skin
felt as though it had bedsores.  For a moment he thought he might be
`shedding' his skin again ad resuming his Male persona.

`Thank God!' he thought, `now I can get on with that Port Estate deal.'

Then he realised that he really did have the makings of some bedsores.  The
pressure points on his ankles and elbows were quite red and angry where his
thrashing orgasms had been rubbing against the starched cotton sheets all
night.

`Dammit!' He concluded.  `His delicate girly skin was either allergic to
the starch or too sensitive for rough cotton sheets.  Would he now have to
change the bed to soft satin silky sheets as well?'

After testing the angry red patches on his ankles and elbows, he concluded
he would.  His skin was just too delicate and sensitive for coarse cotton.

`By God, it was nice though!'

The earlier idea of changing back into Jack Bentley began to feel
unattractive and he wagged his head in slow confusion.

`If Jack Bentley didn't show up, there were going to be real problems with
his realty business and the Port Estate deal.  But if Jack Bentley did
return, Jacqueline would have to go and he wasn't sure he wanted that.'

`Shit, it was really a mess!'

Then his delicate little nose demonstrated its own feminine sensibilities
again. The distinct aroma of his nocturnal excesses wafted gently to his
nostrils. He realised that without some scent and antiperspirants, he would
be signalling to every woman he met that he had been `sexually active'
during the night.  Cautiously he fingered the sticky telltale residues
around his sex and realised a shower was needed.

As he slid off the bed, the sheets rubbed his ankles again and he winced
slightly.  To ease the soreness he stepped into the shower and soothed the
pain on his ankles and elbows with a cool jet of water.

Then he realised he had forgotten the new feminine hair-care shampoo.  The
soaking mass of hair had lost its natural bounce and fell all the way past
his soft rounded butt cheeks.  The dribbling ends tickled his butt and he
realised his new head of stunning hair was going to need very high
maintenance.  Molly was right.

	After showering he realised that he lacked a powerful hairdryer.
The old model he had previously used on his short man's head now proved
hopelessly inadequate. His hair took ages to dry and he was forced to sit
for hours fussing and primping with his fingers and the tiny blower.  He
didn't even own a hair brush.  His next shopping foray would have to be for
essential female grooming equipment now that his feminised condition seemed
permanent, or at least long term.

	By noon, Jack, (or as he was now beginning to think of himself)
Jacqueline, was ready to go shopping again.  She was still concerned about
the Port Authority deal, but the shopping seemed to be more pressing.  She
put it down again to her bimbo-ish feelings, despite Jacks hard business
brain screaming within her to `get the port authority deal sorted!'

After an exhausting round of pharmacies and assorted other ladies outlets,
she found herself fulfilling her appointment at Angela's salon.  As luck
would have it, Molly was having her hair done and Jacqueline indulged in a
girly half hour discussing choices for her magnificent hair.  It amused her
that this new mindset could find so much to discuss about length,
colouring, highlights, cut and style.  `Jack would have simply walked in,
sat down, repeated the same instructions as he always did then paid and
left.

Now Jacqueline settled comfortably into the chair in anticipation of at
least an hour's undivided attention to her head.  The prospect was
attractive, not tiresome.

As she savoured the careful attention paid to her gorgeous hair she batted
Molly's discreet inquiries into her origins whilst constantly diverting the
conversation to makeup tips and ideas.  This suited Angela who was always
keen to sell any hair products.  Eventually, Molly took the hint and fell
thoughtfully silent.

`This beautiful Jacqueline, this gorgeous young lady, seemed to know
nothing about shampoo or makeup or clothes or anything.  She was an
enigma.'

Eventually, Jacqueline was `done'.  Molly, being older, was still waiting
for her perm and set to be completed so Jacqueline took cash from her purse
and paid for the styling and hair products.  As she gave Molly a farewell
peck on the cheeks, Molly savoured the delightful scent that Jacqueline was
wearing.

`An enigma this Jacqueline might be, but she was developing excellent
tastes.'

It was gone five again when Jacqueline emerged onto the streets so there
was no time to address the Port Authority deal.

What did appeal to her was to go out for the evening and she made several
trips to and from the 4X4 as she carried all her shopping into her Flat
above the office.

Nevertheless, she was forced to firstly consider Jack's disappearance so
she spent an hour in front of the computer composing an email from Jack to
his secretary Jacqueline.  In the letter, `Jack' explained that he would be
absent for a few days attending to `urgent family business'.  Would
Jacqueline please look after the store?  Next she arranged for the email to
be sent from an address in Seattle then she `emailed it on to the
commissioner's office.  This at least would stall things until she could
compile a better plan.

She now had the whole evening to indulge in preparations to go clubbing.
Jack Bentley was becoming envious of Jacqueline's wonderful opportunities
endowed by her beauty and youth.  It was getting more difficult every hour
to even contemplate changing back.  Several times as she experimented with
different outfits, Jacqueline was forced to relieve herself before
finalising her choice.

Then her delicate sensibilities told her she was `advertising her
condition' again and she was forced to take another shower.  She grinned at
herself in the mirror as she adjusted her hair under the biggest shower cap
in town.

`Yes,' she thought to herself, `Jacqueline Bentley had a stunning head of
hair- and a stunning body.'