The Fairy Godmother Device: Cinderella's Slippers Part III
By Dee Dee Perri
CHAPTER 1
The young woman's figure was nearly hidden by the cascade of
golden-red hair that fell across her shoulders and down her chest and back.
However as she moved, proud, pointed breasts intermittently peeked through
the silky mantle exposing soft, pink nipples to the cool ocean breeze that
surged through the open patio door. And as she approached the bed that
dominated the room, her lush hips swayed invitingly as if a lover lay there
waiting for her, but she was alone with her thoughts and desires. At the
edge of the bed she stopped to re-arrange her hair. As she moved the
errant strands so that they fell behind her shoulders and down her back
once more, her small waist came into view. In a single liquid movement she
threw back the sheets and climbed onto the bed.
For a moment she lay there quietly on her back looking up at the
mirror mounted directly above her. Her hair formed a golden-red halo that
contrasted vividly with the forest green silk sheets. Against this
background, her pale, white skin took on a distinct pink tint that
suggested both softness and warmth. Her wide blue eyes alertly examined
the reflection as her hands began to explore the contours of her own body.
As one hand descended to her genitals, a flush began to appear on her
chest. Now alternately rubbing her clitoris and vagina with one hand, she
began to rub her breasts with the other. Very slowly her breathing began
to change, eventually becoming ragged and labored. As her hips began to
rock, she continued to twist and pull at her nipples but with increasing
vigor. Her eyes became glazed just before she began to moan, a sound which
seemed to issue from deep in her throat.
Eventually her eyes closed entirely as her full lips opened, exposing
a pink tongue that flicked excitedly across her own lips. Finally with a
long, drawn out primitive groan, she began to climax.
It was a solution of sorts, thought Don, as he lay looking up at his
own reflection, the sheen of perspiration making his all too perfect,
completely feminine image even more sensuous if such were possible. Waves
of erotic sensations continued to move through his body like an echo of the
orgasm he had just experienced. As a man trapped inside this female body
for the last two and a half years, he had not been able to over come his
psychological, almost pathological, aversion of having sex with a man, not
that he hadn't tried a few times. And this body seemed to have the same
aversion to sex with a woman. So he had been reduced to masturbation.
Just looking at this bountiful body and beautiful face was enough to excite
his male mind and the female body didn't seem to mind the self stimulation.
Yet this solution could not be maintained forever. Dr. Donald Arnold was
lonely, almost desperately lonely. Somehow he had to find a way through
this impasse between her body and his mind and soon!
The sounds of the surf just below brought back memories of a time when
he had shared this very room with a beautiful woman... He could still see
his Frankie, her dark brown hair and mysterious almond shaped eyes formed a
vivid image in his brain. Gone!
But not, he thought rudely, before she had done THIS to me! Beautiful
Frankie had been Dr. Frank Penner, a professor at U.C.L.A., that is before
he had been utterly transformed into the most beautiful woman that Don had
ever known. How could Frankie not have understood that he, Don Arnold,
needed her as she was not re-converted into her old middle-aged male body!
And then to apply the process to ME!
But Frankie was gone now, maybe forever. And my transformation into a
fairy-princess forever unless...unless the principle of the process could
be understood. Unconsciously, Don's small, feminine hands formed into
fists as a look of defiance came over his delicate features.
His introspection was interrupted by the phone. "Arnold here." He
said. The femininity of his voice was still distracting a constant
reminder of his condition.
It was Brian Anderson. "Don, we're ready to run the first live test.
I knew you wouldn't want us to start without you."
"Already?"
"Yes, we found the problem, a ground loop. Something to do with the
fact that the facility was built on a land fill. Anyhow, we're ready when
you are."
Excitement flared in Don's eyes. "I'll be there immediately!
To the untrained eye there was nothing exciting about the laboratory.
No whizzing arcs of lightning like in the '30s Frankenstein movies. There
weren't even any computers visible though Don knew that about a quarter of
a mile away existed one of the most powerful systems that Cray had ever
devised, easily able to handle the 10 to the 15th bytes per second
through-put that would be required when the device was operated. Indeed,
there were absolutely no machines that would generate significant
extraneous electromagnetic fields in the building. A multitude of solid
state transducers would feed their weak signals down state-of-the-art
optical channels, but nothing impressive to the eye. "Hard to believe," he
said to his colleague, "that my brother and I have invested over 60 million
in this facility. What do you think Brian, is it going to work?"
The tall, thin physicist just shrugged his shoulders. A technician
bustled in carrying a small metal cage. "Here's the subject Doc." Said
Brian. "A white rat that's in perfect health."
Dr. Anderson looked over at the young red head, the feminine face
bright with excitement.
"Don, " he said softly so that the technician who was already on the
platform wouldn't hear. "it's only a preliminary test. Don't get your
hopes up too much. Are you ready to leave the building?"
"I told you before Bri!" Retorted Don angrily, his lust lips slipping
into a pout. "I want to see it with my own two eyes. I want to be here,
not a mile away watching a monitor." Dr. Anderson just gritted his teeth.
He had been through all the arguments with his Boss months before. How it
might be dangerous or his presence might disrupt the process. But hey, Dr.
Donald Arnold and his brother Howard owned the place. Finally he said
quietly, "If you're staying, then so am I Don."
The small white rat was lying on the raised platform, drugged. The
technician picked up the carrying case and quickly left the room. As soon
as the electromagnetic isolation was re-established, Dr. Anderson nodded
his head toward Don. "You can bring the platform in contact with the
device any time now Boss. All systems are on line for the event." The
platform would fall precisely 1 centimeter, not much of a displacement but
once contact was established with the silicone surface, the device, all
hell should break loose, at least on the electromagnetic continuum. "Now!"
Said the slender redhead as he released the platform.
"Not much of a show." Don whispered nervously. The laboratory was as
quiet as a tomb and the rat remained motionless for the next several
seconds. Then suddenly, as if the drug had worn off, the rat began to
twitch and squirm. But it was not movements of the limbs or head that a
rat might make, rather the whole figure seemed to be changing. As the two
scientists finally let out their breaths in a collective sigh of relief,
the figure began to rapidly expand. Almost instantly the much larger, ill
defined form coalesced into recognizable shape: a slender young woman was
now lying on the platform. Her nude body was precisely the type of figure
that they had expected, a fairy prototype of extraordinary beauty. "WE DID
IT!" Exclaimed Don.
Brian said nothing. But his eyes showed astonishment for although he
had been working on this project from the beginning, this was the first
time that he had actually witnessed one of the transformations. Indeed, he
mused, there were no existing models in physics that could account for the
event that he had just observed. As he looked up at a monitor to obtain
some of the preliminary results of the event he immediately noted that the
maximum amplitude of the local field had peaked at under 70 micro volts, a
level one would normally associate with a neurological event and hardly
compatible with the transfer of a mass in excess of 40 kilograms!
The figure had begun to move in an uncoordinated fashion as three
white coated technicians entered the room. Brian recognized the large,
bulky figure of Ralph Gordon, one of the engineers in his division. The
man grabbed one arm of the creature as his partner reached for the second.
In a blur of movement, the rat-now-woman reacted to the touch by launching
a savage attack. In an instant the creature had turned and grabbed Ralph's
ear in her mouth. The sound of teeth tearing cartilage was clearly audible
even to Brian standing at the opposite end of the laboratory.
Pandemonium erupted. The large man and the creature each began too
shriek, though in different keys. The second technician was ineffectually
attempting to break the rat- woman's hold on Ralph when the sound of the
tranquilizer gun's discharge intervened. The drama actually seemed to
increase for the next few moments for the drug had no immediate impact on
the creature and the sting of the dart seemed only increased its madness.
And then, all in an instant, she began to collapse. The thing slid off the
platform, as if boneless, and onto the floor. The blood smeared face
appeared to be in perfect agreement with the insane expression on the rat
woman's otherwise attractive face. "GRAB HIM!" Yelled Brian.
Ralph Gordon had just pulled a bloody hand away from his destroyed
ear. His eyes had a glazed look as if he were going into shock. He made
two staggering steps away from the platform and toward the medical team
that was just now rushing into the room when suddenly he lurched backward
stiff legged. On the third stagger he hit the edge of the platform and
began to fall. In a reflexive act, he swung his bloody hand out to stay
his fall. The moment it made contact with the surface of the platform, an
expression came over his face, the meaning of which was all too apparent.
In spite of his disorientation, pain and developing shock, his face said
only one thing: OH SHIT!
As if he had touched a hot stove, Ralph jerked his hand away but it
was clear that the process had been initiated. He slowly slid to the
floor, the pain of his injury now clearly out of his mind, as a strange
feeling began to envelop his entire body. He looked straight across to his
supervisor. "Dr. Anderson! Help me!"
Except for the attendants removing the unconscious "ratty-Jane" as she
would be called, everyone else in the room was staring at the
transformation in progress beside the platform. Ralph remained conscious
throughout the event though his ability to move seemed impaired. He was
staring down at his body as the lab coat appeared to grow in relative size.
The bald dome of his head suddenly darkened as a rich crop of brown hair
emerged; simultaneously, his face melted into a new configuration.
A hush had fallen over the room; all seemed to be frozen in place.
Finally the transformed figure looked up once again toward his boss and
called out in a plaintive voice, "Dr. Anderson?"
They had planned on a double shift today since it was clear that much
would be happening. But the second shift of workers had begun to arrive
several hours earlier than expected and the first shift had generally hung
around after their obligation had been met, such was the excitement
generated by the experiments at the Cedar facility. The press of personnel
had driven Don Arnold to seek the quiet of his office atop the building.
By six- thirty that evening, a flood of preliminary reports were already on
his desk. The physical examination of the "ratty-Jane" indicated a normal
human female in both body and brain. The staff psychologist had already
presented a request to keep the creature for extended study. Apparently
the idea of a woman with the intellectual history of a white rat was
something exciting to him, something about the "nature-nurture" problem he
had written. However, Don had found the video tape made this afternoon of
the creature to be quite unsettling. The expression on the face and the
eyes, especially the eyes, was frankly frightening. A rat trapped in a
human body was not a pretty sight. He wrote on the folder that the request
was under review and placed it in the out box.
After a cursory knock at the door, Brian let himself into the office.
"Don, I've got some very interesting results to show you." Sliding the
thick folder onto Don's desk he continued. "The lab results indicate that
Ralph and the animal subject have EXACTLY THE SAME GENETIC STRUCTURE! They
are identical twins."
Don's wide blue eyes grew wider still. "EXACTLY THE SAME! With the
artifacts the subjects have always been DIFFERENT! Bri, what that means
is..."
"Yes!" Interrupted Brian. The Fairy Transmutation Device accepted
our interface as a fixed instruction for a new program! Don you were
right. No variation in the molecular arrangement of our Transmitter are
read as a request for the same product."
"AND VARIATIONS IN THE PATTERN..." yelped Don excitedly for at that
moment he knew that the solution to his personal problem, that is
continuing as a man in a woman's body, was at hand -- well almost. The
small red head leaped up from his chair and flung himself onto Brian. The
close contact caused the shy physicist to blush. "You've made my day!"
gushed Don.
Two floors below things were not going nearly so well. Ralph was
setting on a chair in front of Dr. Klosky, the staff psychologist. The
small female figure was wringing her hands as the psychologist spoke.
"Ralph, we'll need to confront this situation head on. It would be unwise
for me to give you any false hopes. You know as well as I do that the
research has just started and it could be months or even years before a
readjustment of your form might be possible. And remember that a return to
your original body might never be possible. My staff and I will help you
made the necessary ah adjustments. Besides, more than half of the people
in this world are female and most of them seem to do just fine."
"DOCTOR!" Wailed Ralph. A thick strand of hair abruptly fell over
his right eye which he nervously pushed back across his slender shoulders.
"My wife and kids?"
"Yes," Said Dr. Klosky solemnly. "This accident will be most
difficult to explain ah to them. You understand that the Cedar family
would not like this ah situation to be generally known. If the news media
were to get a hold of this well Ralph, the operation might have to be shut
down and with that, well your chance to a normal life would be gone."
"My kids?"
"We're not that cruel Ralph. Arrangements will be made to re-unite
you with your family and the sooner the better. Your wife has been told
the facts, or at least some of them already. She will be going through
therapy as well, you can trust me on that. All of you will be housed here,
at Cedar-Death Valley. And in time, you'll be able to go back to your
work."
"My kids?" Ralph repeated.
"Ah!" Mused Dr. Klosky. "They will be told that their father is on a
trip, at least at first. But you will join them, never fear as your wife's
cousin or some such."
Ralph's expression, however, was anything but satisfied. "You mean as
a woman?"
"Of course Ralph. Don't worry, we know what we're doing trust me!"
Brian Anderson didn't go home until late that night but none the less
he went directly to his study to continue his work for the events of this
day had left his mind far too aroused to allow sleep. The accident
involving Ralph had been a blessing in disguise. Now they had the
signature of two entirely different organisms transmuted into exactly the
same configuration. Disparities between the electromagnetic events should
at least indicate how the initial atomic structures of the target is
represented.
Yet a sense of disquiet hung over the physicist. The radiation that
originated from their mechanism was simply too weak. How could the
Transmutation device located thousands of miles away and buried deep within
the earth detect such a slight flux in the admittedly complex
electromagnetic field that now existed on earth? Was it possible that the
radiation that they were examining was only an incidental byproduct of the
process, possibly uncorrelated to the actual causal signal?
Only trial and error experiments would resolve these questions. The
latter thought bothered Brian greatly. Working in the absence of a formal
model with clear mathematical rules was unnerving. Tomorrow they would try
another animal subject. How many creatures would they eventually create
until they mastered the process? How long would it take? There were
literally 2 raised to the 48th power possible configurations that their
device could assume. How many were valid patterns?
And then the situation with Ralph. It would be easy enough to keep
the man on the project. He was, after all a dedicated member of the team
and, if he wanted to regain his male form? Well here was the only facility
which had that potential. No the man wasn't the problem. But his wife!
Cedar Inc. could hardly afford to have the media get wind of what they were
doing and if she were to leave? Brian's face paled at the thought. An
angry, frightened woman suddenly cut off from her mate. It was easy to
imagine her seeking out the media out of anger or even just for the money.
NO! He had already made it clear to the Psychological team that HER
continued presence at Cedar-Death Valley was imperative to the security of
the operation. Hopefully they would be able to find a way to make her want
to remain. In his gut, Brian knew that Don Arnold might agree to a forced
retention of the woman so intense was the man's commitment to the project.
Brian wanted no part in such a solution. Fortunately Dr. Klosky was good
at his profession. Surely he could find a humane solution to this problem.
It had taken most of the previous day and all of the night for the
Psychological Services Group to agree on an approach to the problem of
Ralph Gordon. The organization's needs were quite clear, the accident must
be kept from outside eyes. Yet these were humane people, how could they
make the unfortunate subject of the transformation comfortable?
"Kirk, the test scores?" Asked Dr. Klosky.
The young Ph.D. began fumbling through the sizable mound of print outs
before him. "Just the summary Kirk, we'll consider the details later."
Pausing, the young man sat up straight in his chair and looked around
at the group assembled. "Well" He began in a halting voice. "The profiles
on both subjects are ah not good. Not good at all! Mr. Gordon is your
typical engineer. Little evidence of feminine aspects, in fact, rather
extreme on the Taylor M-F Scale. Rigid, concrete and not at all
spontaneous. Strong, outward focused, you know ah typical." He began
rubbing his hands together. "Prognosis he's not likely to adopt a feminine
orientation."
"And his wife?" Interrupted Dr. Klosky.
The young man shrugged his shoulders. "No evidence of homosexual
tendencies, if that is what you are looking for Doctor. Prolonged close
contact between these two under the circumstances will not be
satisfactory..."
"Mary?" Interrupted Dr. Klosky. The woman looked as if she would
shit-a-brick if she didn't have a chance to speak right now.
"Kirk is ignoring what I believe are significant facts."
"Go on Mary."
"First, Mr. Gordon's strong male orientation isn't a liability. It's
his wife's heterosexual orientation that will tend to be disruptive, at
least in terms of maintaining the relationship and we're all agreed that
their relationship is the key right? And second, on the Stanford
Suggestibility Scale well Mrs. Gordon is VERY suggestible."
"You mean hypnotize her and exactly to what purpose?" Interrupted
Kirk.
"No! It's not necessary. In fact it would be unreliable." Continued
the woman. It's just that we can manipulate her expectations regarding the
consequences of the transformation and...well, Mrs. Gordon is decidedly a
dependent personality. I believe with a little help, Mrs. Gordon's sexual
orientation can be adjusted slightly and --"
"That would be MOST UNETHICAL!" Interrupted Kirk.
"Of course!" Dr. Klosky's face was beaming. "Kirk, I'll take full
responsibility. And now what about the MMPI, Harold?"
Chapter 2
Unlike the rest of the Psychological Services Group, Dr. Mary A. Brown
did not go to bed that night. The first meeting in the morning was with
Mr. Ralph Gordon. It was obvious that he was still under the influence of
the medication he had received earlier in the evening to help him sleep and
she had counted on that fact. Groggy and disorientated he sat in the chair
before her. With her best concerned look, Mary began the first stage of
the manipulation that the group had agreed upon.
"Mr. Gordon. Our tests show that there were substantial alterations
in your brain."
"Huh!" Responded the subject. Alarm was clearly evident on his-her
face.
"Do you remember the tests we conducted yesterday?"
His face was a blank as he nodded his head.
Dr. Brown gritted her teeth before continuing for she found it
uncomfortable to lie. But it was important that she gain the man's full
cooperation in the matter at hand. The threat that he might lose his
identity would surely suffice, it would work for her if she were faced with
that possibility. "Of the tests you completed yesterday Mr. Gordon, one
measured your ah sexual attitudes, fundamental characteristics on the
male-female dimension and well..." She paused to give her words greater
impact on the subject. "It showed a 33 percent shift toward the feminine
pole. I wouldn't be surprised if by now, you are more than half way toward
a full female identity. Mr. Gordon, in a few hours or at most a couple of
days, your mind will conform to the body you possess unless we take
decisive action now!. You will be female. Your male identity will be
destroyed!"
Now the subject was sitting up in the chair, his eyes expressed
horror. "Mr. Gordon, it is not a question of what you will become, simply
of how soon the process will be completed unless we get your full
cooperation."
"My wife?" He said with anguish in his-her voice.
"I think," She said, pausing to hold her chin in her hand while
staring at him carefully. "If you really want to maintain that
relationship..."
"But I do!" He broke in.
"You'll have to get her to accept you as you now appear."
"But Matty, well Doc, I just don't think she'll go for that you know.
She's well traditional ah-" Looking down at his obviously female body.
"It'd be like a homosexual."
"Ralph, there's more at stake here than just maintaining your
relationship with your wife. If she leaves, she'll take the kids as well
probably."
"Yea, she would." Said Ralph with his face showing his anguish.
"And in time, left on your own, well it is likely that you will begin
to have sexual relations with men."
"I wouldn't do that Doctor Brown." He said with disgust.
"As I said, you have a lot riding on getting your wife comfortable
with the idea of living with a man in a woman's body. But if you're
willing to work at it Ralph --"
He interrupted her with a vigorous nod of his head.
"My team will work closely on this problem with you. You are not alone
we'll save your male identity."
"What'll I have to do?"
Dr. Anderson had wanted to make a very small adjustment in the
magnetic field that defined the "code" of the Cedar-Death Valley Laboratory
device before testing the next animal subject. Dr. Arnold had argued
vociferously for a large variation in the same field, indeed a 170 degree
reversal. His logic was reasonable enough, if the initial setting created
a female, possibly the reversal of the field would result in a male. The
latter out come was of considerable value to the small man-woman. Of
course, Dr. Anderson gave in to the demands of his employer. It was with
considerable disquiet however that Brian finally ordered the drugged
subject placed on the platform. What would they create today? The same
procedure was used today as yesterday. Brian and his boss remained in the
room with the subject, a white rat. Seconds after the platform descended
onto the device the animal began to change in form and size. The now
amorphous mass had grown to humanoid bulk and then suddenly both Brian and
Don knew they had come upon a new phenomena. The mass continued to expand:
first doubling and then doubling again in extent, it soon covered the whole
platform. If it continued growing much longer, Brian planned to force his
employer from the laboratory. Finally, as if in response to Brian's
concerns, the growth ceased and the form coalesced.
"A tree or at least a very large bush!" Gaped Don. Both were struck
by the alien appearance of the "tree". A myriad of branches sprung from
the short, thick center trunk. The profusion of limbs of ever decreasing
diameter terminated in twigs so small as to mimic mammalian hair. And the
whole creature was gray and leafless.
"GOD! The smell!" Exclaimed Brian. It had to be the "tree" for the
chamber had remained closed during the test. "It smells like rotting
meat."
Three white coated technicians entered, as they did yesterday, but
they remained rooted near the exit. It was obvious that they weren't
prepared to move such a large object and the dart gun carried by one of
them was clearly out of place. "A damned TREE!"
Grumbled one. "What do they expect us to do now?" Answered another.
But Brian was clearly fascinated by the alien looking plant. "Not
just Fairy Princesses now Boss. Just imagine the billions of entities that
are possible and this-" He pointed at the tree, "This isn't like any plant
that I have ever seen." He touched the trunk. "It feels like flesh..."
Suddenly the branches engulfed the tall, thin physicist.
The thousands of tiny hair like ending didn't just touch Brian's skin,
they began to sink into him. It was like being stung buy thousands of
wasps. The sudden screech of pain that leaped from this throat was almost
instantly cut off. His eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out.
"ITS KILLING HIM!" Screamed Don. "DO SOMETHING!"
Several security personnel charged into the room on command but they
stood there with stupid terrified looks on their faces looking at the plant
that was killing Dr. Anderson. Some how their hand guns seemed totally
inappropriate. The tree had already grabbed onto one of the technicians
who had courageously reached in to help the entrapped scientist and so now
there were two unconscious forms embedded in the whirling mass of fiber. A
sudden glob of blood bubbled from Brian's mouth. At last Don began to take
action. He reset the mechanism to the initial configuration.
For several seconds, the two men and the plant creature formed a
frozen tableau. And then all three forms began to change. Moments later,
three identical brunets lay scattered about the platform. Not wanting to
repeat the mistake made yesterday, Don yelled out. "NOBODY APPROACH THE
PLATFORM UNTIL ITS RAISED OFF THE DEVICE!"
"Which one's Dr. Anderson?" Called out one of the medical staff now
in the laboratory. "Or Tom Scott?" Asked another. Finally The platform
was disconnected from the device. "Take them all to the infirmary."
Ordered Don. "And put a guard on all three of them until we sort this
out."
The small red head buried his face in his hands. The near death of
his colleague had shaken him to his core. Anything might emerge from this
device. For the first time he realized that serious precautions would have
to be taken for monsters lurked within the code. Who knows, maybe the next
time a dragon?
When Brian Anderson regained consciousness the first thing he saw was
his diminutive boss, Don, staring down at him. "Sorry." Said the red head
in a halting voice. "It was the only thing I could think of at the time."
Brian looked down and saw what could only be breasts that swelled
beneath the sheet covering him. "So that's how you did it." He said in a
strangled voice.
"Yea, I reset the field to the configuration we employed yesterday.
You look exactly like Ralph now."
Brian suddenly felt giddy. He'd never been comfortable around women
never in his whole life. Which was one good reason that he had never
married. And now? "He was afraid to look at what had happened to him but
morbid curiosity finally got the better of him. I need to see myself." He
said breathlessly. He was startled by his rising anxiety. As he sat up in
the bed, the sheet slipped down. He was naked. Small, but well formed
breasts wiggled from the movement. He had an almost over powering urge to
touch them to ascertain their reality but he was embarrassed to do so in
front of Don. He simply let out a sigh when the fact of his transformation
was visibly evident. "Don," And then he self-consciously covered himself
once again with the sheet. "I think I'll need a few days off to adjust..."
His pretty feminine features took on a far away look.
"You'll want professional help Brian, I'll have..."
"No Don. No shrinks please. Maybe, if someone can get me some
clothes, I'll go home now." Embarrassment was written over his womanly
features.
"Sure Bri." Don said quietly. "I'll have my driver take you home.
OK?"
"Look Dr. Arnold. Yesterday's assignments we could handle, what with
Mr. and Mrs. Gordon and the animal subject, we were running at maximum.
Mary hasn't even gone to bed yet but we were still on top of things. But
three more patients today?" Dr. Samuel Klosky's face was a mask of
concern.
"Only two Sam. Brian wants to work this out on his own."
"Still..."
"What are you asking for Sam?"
"More latitude. The Gordon woman for example is proving intractable.
Unless you want her to go to the authorities, well forced detention until
we can shape her behavior."
Power corrupts, thought Don and absolute power, that's what they have
now, absolute power. But a prison? The facility was designed to keep
people out, not in. "Sam, you read the report on Frank Penner and Sara
Bixenstein."
"Yes, of course."
"We'll try to re-create the same scenario on the Gordon woman and then
expose her to the transmutation device. OK?"
That evening, after most of the staff had been sent home, a few
carefully chosen technicians were preparing the laboratory for a new
experiment. The rage of the Gordon woman could be heard throughout the
building as she was dragged kicking and screaming on to the platform. The
brutal treatment that she was receiving interacted with the drugs she had
been forced to take. When she had been securely chained in place, her
husband, entered. Slowly the slender brunet approached his wife. He was
filled with self-loathing for he knew the role that he would have to
perform. "WHAT'S HAPPENING RALPH! WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS?"
Without answering, he began to slap her face and scream meaningless
curses. Her eyes were filled with terror as the platform descended onto
the device.
It was a calculated risk but Don had adjusted the pattern, less than a
1.0 percent variation. Both would be transformed, but into what? Ralph's
rage was fake but his wife's stress was real enough. Could they replicate
the Penner-Bixenstein effect?
The answer would be revealed soon enough for both figures had begun to
change. Tiny, like children. Small even by the standards created by
earlier transformations for Don was only 4' 9" tall. "Raise the platform!"
Called out Don. Unlike the earlier experiments, he was safely back at the
main control room some 1000' away. "And get security in as soon as the
platform is disconnected!"
As he ran down the corridor toward the laboratory all that Don could
think of was that they were not human! It wasn't just their small size,
surely less than 20 pounds, or the green tint of their skin or the pointed
ears, no. It was the WINGS that sprouted from their back! Small, almost
transparent WINGS!
Part of the Penner-Bixenstein effect had been achieved for the two of
them were totally absorbed in each other. They were excitedly chattering
away in very high pitched voices. Had there been any question of their
alien nature, their eyes would have been the final proof. No sclera at
all, just golden orbs.
"Ralph?"
One of the creatures turned and in a little voice said, "Dr. Arnold?"
"Sorry again Ralph. I made what I thought would be a very small
adjustment but..."
"It really is incredible. Matty's just been blown away by this but I
think she'll be OK Doc. Do you think we can really fly?"
Don was nonplused and shrugged his shoulders. Later when the two of
them were taken to the infirmary, Don turned to one of the technicians.
"Shut it down for the night Tony. And cancel tomorrow's experiment. We
have plenty of data to examine." Don was stunned. Even a small change in
the code could have dramatic effects. The tree this morning and the fairy,
for what else could they be, this evening. Just flicking through the
available patterns would never do. I need to meet with Brian he concluded.
Don was surprised at Brian's appearance. The slender brunet was
wearing a dress that effectively displayed his attractive figure and he
wore makeup, just a touch. "Don, I heard. How could you do that to the
Gordons? You had no right!"
Don's expression showed his guilt. "They can fly you know."
"What?"
"Hollow bones and impressive muscles in those tiny bodies."
"Theory?"
"Empirical! Just before I left they displayed their new found talent.
Both were flying around the room. They seemed to be having a hell of a
good time. But you're right Brian, I had no right to authorize their
transformation."
Brian suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Not to change the
subject," He began. "But I got a confession to make Don." He averted his
gaze from his boss. "I don't know how to begin, ah do you like my outfit?"
"Yeah, Brian. I was surprised to see you dressed like this. The
makeup and all."
Brian's face was beet red now. "I ah Hell! Don, I like it." His
voice had died away into a faint whisper. A stunned expression covered
Don's face. "It's weird but, but sexy." The normally shy scientist slowly
ran his hand down the side of the dress. "Almost from the first moment
that I was conscious after the change, well, I was turned on! Sexually
excited. Don, I've never told anyone this...I'm a virgin. I've never in
my 50 odd years ever been close to a woman. And now, well you can't get
much closer." He said the last with a self-conscious smile on his face.
Don was nonplused. He just stood there with a blank expression on his
face. "The reason that I'm telling you all of this boss, "Began Brian.
"Well I want off the project for ah a few weeks. I'm so confused. I'm an
old man in a young, attractive body and, well there's a lot for me to work
through. I'd like to get out of this desolate place for awhile."
As the surprise finally wore off, Don finally said, "That shouldn't be
any problem Brian, taking time off that is. I've been having second
thoughts about the feasibility of discovering the grammar of this code
using a direct empirical approach. Christ! I only made a 1.0 percent
change in the field and look what happened."
"Random samples will never work Don, I tried to tell you that this
morning. There must be over a billion possible combinations and maybe more
than that. Even if we explored one combination every minute, it'd take
over 1900 years to do an exhaustive test and that's my minimum estimate. I
recommend that we terminate all testing until we have completed the
analysis of the existing data."
"Fine, then we are agreed!" Don flipped his long red hair back with a
well practiced movement of his hand. As he stood up to leave he paused.
"But Brian, I can't authorize your departure from the facility."
"WHAT!" Yelled the startled brunet. "After all these years together
you don't trust me?" His face grew darker as his anger mounted.
"As you said so yourself Brian, you're confused, disorientated by the
transformation. It's for your own good." And with that, the red head
turned his back and left.
Brian was a proud man that had given much of his considerable talents
to Cedar Inc. and, more specifically to Don Arnold for most of his career.
He had thought that theirs had been a special relationship based upon
mutual respect and now suddenly he knew. "I'm nothing but a specimen NOW!"
Snarled the slender brunette to the empty room. "How dare he do this to
ME!"
Matty and Ralph made an interesting discovery that night as they lay
together. They had become quite aroused as they explored each other's
body. Each had a vagina, a fact that had been evident from the onset of
the transformation, but as their excitement increased, both discovered a
second organ, penis like, which began to emerge from the right side of the
vagina cavity. After a little trial and error, they discovered they were
fully capable of entering each other at the same time. It was like having
sex as a man and as a woman at the same time. Indeed, as they were to
discover, both organs were fully functional. With a grin on her pixy face
Matty said to Ralph, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?'
"SHIT! Matty, do you think I can get pregnant?"
"Well sweetheart, having never cum as a man before, I can't be sure.
But it felt like I put a gallon of something into your little valley."
"Gosh, what if we both get pregnant!"
CHAPTER 3
It had been nearly three weeks since the device had last been
employed. But the activity in the data analysis section had been frantic;
Dr. Anderson had reversed his position. If he couldn't leave the Death
Valley facility, well he would throw himself into the work. And the new
she had been driving the staff to their maximum effort ever since. The
slender brunet looked up from the terminal as Don entered the room.
Hostility flared in his eyes but he quickly gained control of himself and
hid his true feelings. Finally with a forced smile he stood up and began
walking toward his boss..
Every time Don saw his colleague he couldn't help but notice the
continuing evolution in the personality. Whereas Brian had been quiet and
reserved, in this new body "she" projected a gregarious charm, a self
confidence in his interpersonal relations with the other staff that was
almost infectious. In manner, dress and language he appeared to be at ease
with nearly everyone yet somehow she still managed to project a commanding
professional presence. Who knows, mused Don, the woman that Brian had
become might even be sexually active now.
A fine mixture of intelligence, focus and sensuality, Don thought, as
Brian worked his way through the room. Although he never took his eyes off
of his goal, he managed to touch everyone in the room that crossed his
path. Affectionate contacts that brought instant smiles on her co-workers'
faces, a queen bee in a busy hive. Not at all like the cool, reserved
Brian Anderson I knew before he mused. "Dr. Anderson." Don said with a
formal nod of his head.
"Lets go to your office." Brian said. The bubble in his now more
nurturing personality faded whenever he was close to Don. Now he was all
business. "I know how uncomfortable crowds make you." He said with a
grunt. "We can access the charts I want to show you from there."
"Sorry, I can't take the time." Don interrupted. "I just wanted you
to know that I'll be gone for a few days. Seems that my brother is
concerned about the operation." He paused to get and hold the brunet's
gaze. "How are you doing Brian?"
"Fine!" No thanks to you, Brian thought to himself. "We should be
able to resume testing in a few days Boss." And with that, Brian turned
away.
Brian could feel Don's eyes on his back as he swept back through the
room. Don's departure, even for a few days, was a relief for Brian had
just made several significant discoveries that needed his immediate
attention. In the old days, before the transformation, there would have
been no thought of hiding such information from his colleague-friend, but
now... The forced imprisonment had broken the contract. In the basement
of his home already existed a new device. Once you begin to understand the
basic principles, and he smiled to himself, no massive facility was
necessary.
The whine of the motor on Howard's wheel chair jarred Don from his
reverie. While his brother was only 9 years older than he, that is before
Don's transformation, there had always been a great gap in their apparent
age. While Don had played at his science, his older brother had worked
tirelessly at building the family wealth. And the effort had been
performed at great cost to Howard's body. Since last year's stroke, his
brother had been confined to the wheel chair. His florid face gave full
testimony to the still rampant hypertension and his thin white hair his
age. Howard's willingness to expend substantial family funds on the Fairy
Godmother Project was based, in no small part, upon his desire to have a
new, young body. Like Don. However, he was unwilling to give up his
manhood, at least not yet.
"Howie." Began Don with concern in both his voice and face. "We
could safely run you through the device now."
"I've read the reports Don and well not yet. But that brings me to
the real reason I needed to see you. We have a major problem developing.
It's your ex-wife."
Don's mouth twisted into a grimace. "How so?"
"She's making a run to take over the business, all of it. And before
you say that it's impossible, let me explain. She plans to have you
declared dead. In fact, her lawyers have already gotten an injunction
which has tied my hands for the time being in certain sensitive areas.
Don, legally, I can't prove that you're alive! With 30 percent of a multi-
billion dollar enterprise in free fall..."
"Howie, she's got no rights to my share even if I were declared dead!"
"But your daughter does! And it will be three more years before she
reaches her majority.
Claudia will have full legal control until then."
"Still, it's only 30 percent."
"You're forgetting about our minor partners. Between the five of them
there's another 25 percent. Combined, well it's a majority Don. And that
brings me to the second point. Our partners and your EX have already
concluded a tentative agreement."
"That BITCH! She knows that I'm alive. I mean, I see my daughter
every chance I get. Damn!"
"And those five old men, as you always called them, were on a witch
hunt anyway Don, even before your EX got involved. Too many of their
assets were going into that rat-hole you've been operating in Death Valley.
To make a long story short, they're planning a visit at the facility next
weekend. Under the circumstances Don, we need their support. Just thought
you should know."
"If you don't mind Howie, I think I'll not stay the night. I'm not
sure of what I can do but they must not be allowed to terminate the
operation."
"Keep me informed!"
"Of course."
"Excuse my English, but Doc why in the Hell do ya want a new floor in
the laboratory, I mean, the present structure..."
With a wave of his hand, the red head dismissed him. "Just see that
it's done by this weekend. The whole floor at precisely the same level as
the platform. And take down those rails."
Tony was muttering to himself as he walked away. "The whole idea of
the raised platform and the new rails was to avoid accidents like what
happened to Gordon. I don't understand." As Tony left the office he
encountered his immediate supervisor, the woman that used to be a man.
"Doc Anderson?" He said, nodding his head toward the office door behind
him. "The Boss wants to bring up the floor to the same level as the
platform. Could you talk to her, I mean him, please. I mean, well its not
safe, that's what I think."
As the unhappy technician walked away, Brian finally resolved that
something had to be done. Don's treatment of the Gordons may have been
only poor judgment but He had an idea of what Don was going to do, though
why was a mystery. Why create an opportunity for an accident with the
device?
"Problem?" Called out Don as Brian entered the room.
"More like worried. The laboratory modification Don, you seem to be
inviting a problem. Don stiffened noticeably. "Its NOTHING for you to be
concerned about."
"Don, your lack of perspective, your neurotic need to recover your
manhood, has put the whole project in danger. Either you should terminate
your direct involvement in the project or solve your attitude problem..."
Don interrupted Brian impatiently. "NEUROTIC! There's a lot more
going on than your aware of Bri."
"Be patient, it might take years to solve your problem Don."
"I just wish I could be as comfortable with my change as you seem to
be but that's not really the issue NOW!" Don answered curtly. He was
becoming increasingly angry at Brian's tone of voice.
"Maybe you can be."
"Huh?"
"Maybe it would help to run you through the device at our baseline
setting."
"WHAT!..."
"Don, you have been miserable for what, two and a half years. With a
little adjustment of your attitude..."
"Brian, I want to be a man again, not a well adjusted woman!" Disgust
registered on his face. "While I APPRECIATE your CONCERN, Dr. Anderson-"
And the small woman glared at Brian, "You are over stepping your bounds!
NOW if you have NOTHING more to contribute..."
Brian left the office none the wiser regarding Don's motives. It was
clear that Don was out of control. Considering the power at Don's
fingertips, the situation was turning ghastly.
Weekends were generally indistinguishable from week days at the
Cedar-Death Valley Research Center but this weekend would be different.
Don had essentially ordered the entire site shut down. In the guise of a
holiday for his hard working employees, all were enjoying a weekend in Los
Vegas at corporate expense, except the converted ones and the security
personnel, after all, the visit was supposed to be a surprise. Ha!
There were twenty of them in the party that suddenly descended upon
the Center. The five old, wealthy men, required an extensive staff.
"Miss," George Koss was acting as the spokesperson for the group. It was
obvious that he wasn't pleased to be told that a young woman who couldn't
be more than 17 was in charge. "I find it totally impossible to accept the
fact that a multi-million dollar facility, some of which is OUR MONEY,
rests in the hands of one SO YOUNG!"
He was stunning in the golden-red dress that exactly matched his hair.
There was no evidence of his normal "masculine" manner in this "chance"
meeting. "OH!" He gushed in an exaggerated feminine manner. "Everyone is
gone Sir. The staff is on a holiday weekend. I was just ready to leave
myself when you arrived."
Freddy Grimes poked his associate in the ribs and whispered. "This is
a perfect opportunity to check this place out. No "planned tour". Things
look as bad here as Claudia said. What a waste of money."
"If you don't mind Miss, as owners of this place, we demand to be
shown around!" "Oh! But of course." Simpered Don. His eyes widened.
"You must see the laboratory." And then he whispered in a conspiratory
voice. "They say that they can turn lead into gold there! Really!"
"Lead on girl." Ordered Mr. Koss.
The gaggle of men followed the gently swaying figure down the hall and
into an impressively large but generally vacant room. "Some bod!" Someone
commented behind her.
"Thank you!" He called out gaily over his shoulder. "But Gentlemen,
you haven't seen anything yet." Feminine laughter filled his voice. "We
can make ANYTHING in this room. Now if you will simply step to the rear
I'll show you."
Freddy groused to the assembled group. "There's nothing here girlie."
"Now you just wait a second Sir, I think you'll change your mind when
you see the bevy of beauties..."
"What?"
"Chicks, gentlemen:" Don allowed his voice to grow more harsh,
maidens, women, girls, what ever you want to call them." He continued to
talk even after he has triggered the release of the platform. "Birds,
skirts, babes, cunts the labels are endless!" Even as she spoke, the
transformation was in progress. Several pitched over while others simply
sat down. George Koss somehow remained standing as the transformation
progressed. On cue, the security personnel arrived. The sweet, feminine
charm has vanished from his voice and manner. "Take them to the holding
cells down stairs. One to a room! Harry?"
"Yes Dr. Arnold?" His security chief looked alarmed.
"They're to remain under CONSTANT observation until the choppers
arrive. Jake, order the aircraft in NOW!"
"Howie?" Don's voice revealed his excitement. "I just wanted you to
know that I've got a short term solution to our problem. Right! Two can
play that game. Oh God no! I didn't kill them. I just had them
transformed into women...Yeah! all of them. Just declare them dead like
Claudia is trying to do to me. Yeah! It could take years to get this
straightened out. Yes, yes, I didn't know that. Sorry Howie, I'll get
back to you later. I'm going to join our converts. The Laguna Beach
facility, that's right. Keep them locked up? No way. I'll set them free
in swim suits. Ha! You want to see Koss in a swim suit? Thanks, we'll
talk later. Bye!" Don hung up the phone and went to his helicopter for
the short ride to Laguna.
Under the current circumstances, the Laguna Beach facility was ideal
for the handling of the large group of unwilling subjects. Although the
compound itself was both smaller and much closer to civilization, only
three miles from the Pacific Coast Highway, the fact that most of Don's
staff were now located at the Cedar-Death Valley plant meant that there
were ample accommodations for the twenty "newies". Indeed, for the first
several days, while they were "getting acquainted" with their new bodies,
Don wanted them isolated, especially from each other. To be transformed,
suddenly, into a young person of the opposite sex was one thing. But to
"continue" to be that way, day-after-day, alone without social support, a
"burning-in" of the reality of the transformation, concluded Don, was
essential. They must know that this change was no trick, no drug induced
illusion but a total and potentially permanent alteration of their physical
aspect. Once Don was sure that this "lesson" had been learned, he had
hoped to meet with each in turn to resolve their individual destinies. In
some cases, that process might take several weeks. Unfortunately, Don's
plan was coming apart at the seams. Time was something he was not going to
be given enough of...his administrative staff at the Cedar-Death Valley
site were being swamped by requests-no demands from civil authorities
family members business associates regarding the disposition of the
"missing party". The level of the pressure was substantially higher than
even Don had expected. Kidnaping, of course, was a serious offense. The
authorities were demanding to be admitted to the Cedar-Death Valley
facility. In spite of the dangers inherent in such an action, he
authorized full and free access. Thank God, he thought, most of the staff
had been in Los Vegas. And the staff that had participated in the removal
of the "clients" were here in Laguna. It was up to Brian to keep the
hounds away from the Laguna Beach Facility, at least for a few days.
Don's ill conceived entrapment of the party of twenty merely
confirmed Brian's assessment of the situation. Don's compulsion to find a
solution for his situation, a need that seemed to escalate rather than
decline with time, had clouded his judgment. He was no longer fit to
direct a scientific study of this phenomenon. Indeed, his lack of
objectivity as reflected in the insane events of the last twenty four hours
threatened the whole enterprise. If, or rather when, the real purpose of
the Cedar-Death Valley facility became known...When the public became aware
of what had been happening...Brian decided that it was time to leave. His
continued affiliation with the Cedar-Death Valley facility would serve no
useful purpose and his personal contract with Dr. Donald Arnold was clearly
at an end.
The slender brunet was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and matching
work shirt. His long dark, hair spilled across his shoulders like a cape.
This casual disarray accentuated rather than distracted from the youthful
features unmarked by makeup. The child, for "she" looked no more than 17
years old, and her blue sun bleached Toyota was waved through the blockade
set up by the local police, without incident. As Brian turned his car
toward the interstate and freedom, the muscles on his small, feminine body
finally began to relax. He had one last glimpse of the site of his
transformation from the rear-view mirror but his mind was already focused
upon the future.
Chapter 4
Harry Beckman, chief of security at the Cedar-Death Valley Research
Center, was on the phone with his boss. "Dr. Arnold? I don't know how to
say this...Dr. Anderson's gone. No, he just split. Yes, his car too.
Dr. Arnold. We got every kind of law enforcement here you can imagine.
And the media..." His voice trailed off, anguish was evident in the man's
voice. "Boss I don't have any control over the facility now. Those
bastards from the FBI...they're in everybody's face...Shit! I'll talk to
you later if I can...Tony just told me the S.O.B.s have broken into the
Translation Chamber."
Special Agent Paul Williams was a tall, powerfully built black man.
As he entered the chamber, his partner, already standing in the middle of
the empty space said, "So what's the big deal? Those Stoops out there
acted like this was the Holy-of-Holy. I mean, there's nothing here!" His
voice range harshly in the chamber.
Special Agent Williams hadn't come this far in an agency that was less
than sympathetic with affirmative action by being casual. Unlike his
partner he had already spotted several interesting features of this
laboratory. The slight change in the reflections off the floor caught his
eye. The rear of the room was...and he was still assessing this fact as he
crossed on to the now lowered platform. "Something's not right here." He
said as he pointed down toward the floor.
Even as he reached down to touch the surface with his bare hands his
partner cautioned him. "Maybe we should wait until some of the lab boys
get here?"
At the instant Paul touched the surface, he felt a queer, though not
painful, sensation pass through his body. "OOPS!" He exclaimed.
At the sound of his partners voice, the older man jerked about,
"OOPS?" He echoed.
"OOPS what?"
His eyes grew big as he watched the rapid transformation of his
powerfully built partner into a slender brunet. "Something's wrong Jake!"
Mewed the small female. "Damn! Something's terribly wrong!" The child
was staring at the slender, white hand that was squeezing one small but
well defined breast.
His partner froze in position. Ignoring the plaintive cries, he
pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Herman, this is Blake! Contact
Washington!" Then in a slow, measured voice he continued, "Seal this place
off from EVERYONE! NOW!" He listened for a few moments and then added.
"Yes, National Security. They'll need to assemble the best damn team they
can find. And damn it get the civilians off this site! Of course!
Especially the MEDIA!"
George Koss, 73 years old, was wealthy by all standards, except in
health. A bad heart, liver and advanced arthritis, ensured that he was
constantly aware of his own mortality, was staring, with rapt fascination,
at the young woman in the mirror. She mimicked perfectly his every
movement. Tight fitting white short-shorts hung desperately low on her
slender hips. The gap between the pants and the vivid pink halter top
which barely covered her erect and pointy tits, was accentuated by a most
charming navel. He turned so as to be able to look over his shoulder. As
nice a rear-end as he had ever seen, he mused. And the legs...
At that moment, the door to his room was opened. Startled, his
generous brown eyes widened as he turned to face his unexpected visitor. A
young man, obviously one of the employees by his uniform, greeted him
nervously. "Dr. Arnold has instructed me to tell you that you are free to
go. Ah-" He paused. "If you wish, there will be a bus that will take you
and the rest of your group into town Laguna Beach. We'll be unable to
return you directly to Cedar-Death Valley Sir..."
"George Ross is the name!" Interrupted the slender girl. "Damn it!
MR. GEORGE ROSS! And I want to KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!" He ended
in a shriek. But the young man had already fled the room. George's new,
young body had plenty of vocal power. A fact that he-she displayed more
than adequately, but as he stepped out in to the hallway, there was nobody
there. At last, quietly, he began his hurried walk to freedom.
Dr. Donald Arnold watched from his office high above the parking area
at the side of the building as the girls, all 20 of them, assembled by the
bus. Their shrill voices cut the clear marine air like a flock of seagulls
descending upon a feast. Twenty sets of white shorts and pink halters,
scurrying around frantically was almost comical. And then, much to Don's
surprise, a sense of order was quickly restored. The girl in the middle
must be Koss, Don muttered to himself. The masters were identified and
their underlings formed into protective clots around their respective
leaders. In a few moments, the last of this gaggle entered the waiting
bus. Now standing alone, her small face turned up toward the window where
Don stood watching, the small woman made a defiant gesture: she gave him
the finger. How ironic, thought Don. Fuck you indeed!
The Laguna Beach facility was closed down on his orders as it had
never been before. In a few minutes, Don would be completely alone.
Should he attempt to return to the Cedar- Death Valley facility or simply
wait here until...What?
Brian Anderson reached Las Vegas without incident. His car, which he
perceived had became a liability (he had to assume that the authorities
were or would be looking for him), was abandoned near the bus station. But
he had no plans to use the bus. In fact, Las Vegas was the perfect
hide-out for a young, attractive woman who wanted to disappear for awhile.
He traveled light, for now. In a small bag he carried a change of
clothing and something else, something special. A few minutes shopping,
the brunet had bought everything that she would need for her first of
several transformations. In a run down motel just off the strip, she cut
and colored her hair a bright red. It took Brian at least eight attempts
before he had successfully created the look that he wanted with the makeup,
loose but naive. More important, it made him look younger, if that were
possible. And then the clothes. In spite of the fact that he had been a
female for several weeks, he had yet to seriously experiment with high
heels. Walking in them, especially with the tight skirt which restricted
his stride in an unfamiliar fashion, was difficult. Worse, as he watched
himself in the mirror, the image he projected was decidedly unfeminine.
That evening, fully dressed and made up, Brian left the safety of the
room to cruise the strip. With his heart in his throat and full knowledge
that at any moment he could be faced with disaster, he began his search.
Good looks, if not feminine grace, and a generous application of money
eventually led Brian to the man he wanted.
Fully conscious for the first time just how vulnerable a woman can be
especially if that woman looked like a girl child runaway, Brian entered
the small shop at the end of a side street, ironically it was but a few
feet from the room he had exited long hours before. "Mr. Smith," he said
after wetting his lips grown dry from nervousness.
The grizzled man nodded his head but said nothing. A tough character,
his eyes focused briefly upon Brian's cleavage and then slid slowly down
the figure before returning to Brian's face. It was obvious he liked what
he saw. Finally, a small smile flickered across his face. "How can I do
ya babe?"
"I was told that you might be able to help me. I need new
identification papers." He squinted at the driver's license. Obviously
this child was not the middle aged man pictured. "Hump Brian Anderson,
where ya get it?" He grunted. "Old Man?"
"Yeah! My old man. Pretty bad know. Had to get away from home.
Any-how the bastard..."
"Cool-it Kid. This ain't no charity no how. Run away? OK. You want
to be say 21? Maybe so you can work in a club? OK? I can do it. No
problem! But its going to cost ya. What-you-got besides that pussy?"
"Twenty bucks mister?"
"Kid we're talking color pictures, talking lamination, we're talking
lots of trouble know? Three hundred and fifty bucks and something on the
side if ya get my message." He was now looking unabashedly at her tits.
"When?"
"Tonight I take your picture, tomorrow morning..."
"Done!"
"Sit here!" He ordered.
Within a few seconds he had taken Brian's picture, finding time and
opportunity to slide his hand across Brian's ass and then tweaking "her"
right breast as he lined "her" up with a neutral back-screen. Brian had
never been touched before in this fashion, neither as a man, nor certainly,
as a woman. He felt violated, threatened and yet, surprisingly,
titillated. Being a sex object was a novel experience but something he
would have to learn to live with.
It was all an act, a part to play, rationalized Brian. Having watched
countless women control and manipulate men, Brian had some idea of what to
do but still his heart was hammering with anxiety when he reached up and
let his finger tips slide down the side of the man's face, his nails
digging ever so slightly into the man's flesh.
"Yeah!" Growled Mr. Smith. "What's your name honey?"
"Betty. Betty Marie Smith." He grinned. If it was good enough for
him, it would do me just fine.
"Well Ms. Smith, if you can make me real happy, ya know, I can make
you a couple of more documents. Useful things, ya know, like the state
health certificates the clubs require."
But even as the man was speaking, his hand, now sliding down Brian's
back first caught and then pulled at the zipper of Brian's dress. The
sound of the zipper, the sudden reduction in the tension of the fabric
across his back and then chest, and finally the waft of cool night air on
his now exposed back released a knot of anticipation flavored with fear.
The stranger's mouth had worked its way through the protective mantle of
hair and he nuzzled wetly into Brian's ear. "Let's see what I'm getting
doll face."
Brian had no idea what to do no idea of exactly what was required of
him, for he still was thinking exactly like a man. But his passivity born
of ignorance and his extraordinary body were more than adequate, for as the
clinging nylon dress fell away, as the man surveyed the revealed figure
both with his eyes and hands, as his fingers lightly flicked over the now
exposed nipples grown hard in the cool air, the man's cock had become
painfully aroused he groaned, "Baby baby Oh! Nice!"
As his dress and panties formed a nylon pool about his feet, Brian
felt the stubble from the man's cheek against his own. Then on his chest,
belly, and, finally, between his thighs the man's face was now centered
upon Brian's groin. Only the top of Smith's head was visible. And then
Brian lost conscious control as a wet, insistent tongue searched for and
found his sweet spot. A fire sprung up from deep inside. Focused at first
on the clit but then passion's flame quickly spread to his vaginal lips,
the crack of his ass, the tips of his nipples, even eventually to his toes.
As the wild fire spread, a deeper, more insistent need began to well
up in Brian's cunt. A need he had never felt before, an emptiness that
demanded filling. Without plan, indeed without conscious awareness, Brian
grabbed the rock-hard cock and guided it to the hungry opening between his
legs as his own legs melted and he flowed to the floor. With the man above
him now, between his legs, Brian felt so small and weak, helpless!
With a growl of animal passion, the man threw his full weight upon
him, driving the hard hot shaft deeply inside. Now Brian KNEW terror! He
would be Ripped-IN-TWO! But the hungry mouth between his legs HIS PUSSY was
not so easily overcome. In an instant it greedily guzzled the shaft of
flesh. Like an eruption of a volcano played backwards for instead of
spewing out, Brian's now violent contractions were drawing the man's member
ever deeper into the center of the fire. NO FEAR NOW! Brian suddenly
understood, whatever happened from now on, Brian knew that it was him,
Brian Anderson, and not this man nor his prick, that was the center of the
universe. This man served HIS Brian's body and not the other way around!
They were now in the man's bedroom. His voice floated over to Brian
in the dark, quiet of the room. The smell of spent passion filled the air.
"Mike."
"Huh?"
"My names' Mike. First time?"
"Huh?"
"Thought so. If you want..." his voice was soft now, gentle. "Betty?
You stay here, ya know, until..."
"Thanks Mike. Can't. People, bad people are looking for me. No,
don't even offer. They'd hurt you. But we can be friends, if you know
what I mean. Mike, I need a friend right now. Just if things get bad,
then you get out of my face no questions no arguments. You understand
Mike?"
Chapter 5
Some where, in a safe house just outside of D.C., George Russ was
lying on his back, buck naked. His long, rich hair spayed out around him
while his fine small hands formed sea shell cups beside each of his tiny,
almost elfin ears. The young man advancing upon him, his rigid member
pointed at George's vagina, groaned audibly as he slid between her wide
spread legs. The stud would have probably shit-a-brick, thought George, if
he knew exactly who or rather what he was drooling over. The transient
thoughts of the former old man abruptly terminated when the engorged penis
made its entry into his-her body. For a moment it was painful, so large
the organ and so violent the entry. But George's' new body seemed to be
infinitely flexible. And then his own button was pushed. George Russ
consciously tried to avoid cuming at that instant. When he suddenly
realized what he was doing, an old habit from his male existence, he
giggled out loud. Hell he could cum and cum and cum without limit.
Released from his self imposed restraint, he started to climax and climax
and climax. He yelled until his voice was nearly gone.
Later, while the stud was recovering (something George no longer
needed to do), the old man began once again to think about the meaning of
it all. The old saying, too bad youth was wasted on the young was
absolutely true. To really enjoy this young, vibrant body, one had to have
been old and used-up, tired and in pain. So what if clutching a broad
shouldered, sometimes hairy bod wasn't exactly one's cup of tea, it sure
beats the alternative.
Without warning the man grabbed George from behind. "No..." he
started to say. But as his hard member forced its way in, George thought,
what the hell, why the fuck not! Later, much later, George picked at the
scattered threads of his thoughts. The Feds had him and all of the other
"victims" of Don Arnold safely hidden away. It seems that someone had
thrown the Bill of Rights away, least ways, for all practical purposes, all
the "boys" had vanished from the face of the earth. Even during Nam, he
mused, it never got this bad. Something nasty was at work. His train of
thought was again interrupted...that damn stud was sucking on one of his
toes. Geeze, the boy got some set of hormones.
If anything, mused Dr. Arnold, the Cedar-Death Valley Research Center
was busier now after the Feds had taken over than before, though most of
the work force was new. Don was pretty much cut out of the control loop.
His residence at the site bordered on house arrest. But in spite of the
loss of authority, the absence of Brian Anderson and the ability to
determine each phase of the activity, he had been impressed by some, if not
all, of the scientists who had been brought on line. Physicists, world
class researchers, a regular who's who of American science, at least.
Although he would probably be the last to admit it, Don Arnold welcomed the
opportunity to hand over the many responsibilities of the project. Brian
was right, he had realized too late. He had been too close to be
objective. Changing the instructions of the transformation mechanism was
far less important then discovering the more fundamental principles of its
operation.
Understanding and not immediate results for a limited need was what
was needed at this time. If properly controlled, one could imagine the end
of poverty, limitless food, energy hell, some version of immortality. God
only knows what sugar plums might be dancing in the head of the Defense
establishment. But at least, none of it was Don's responsibility any
longer.
Oh yes! And then there was the shrink. The Feds saw him as a
security risk, to be sure. When they put the National Security curtain
over the whole operation, well they were still stuck with this strange,
sexy creature that wanted nothing more than to be middle- aged man again.
Some bright paper pusher in Washington, probably a member of the American
Psychological Association, decided that Dr. Donald Arnold needed to be
fixed. Enter thus Dr. Linda Adams.
"Now Debra!" Interrupted Dr. Adams. Don cringed at the name but the
woman would not suffer his maintenance of even a semblance of his manhood.
"I will NOT take NO for an answer. You are in a state of denial that has
gone on far too long to be healthy. Think of your former life as but a
history that properly belongs to someone else." She said the last with a
sound of self satisfaction creeping into her voice. "Under the
circumstances, your fixation on this male history is neurotic and
destructive. Think of yourself as female. When you look at a mirror, say
to yourself, How lucky I am to be a woman! And beautiful and young!"
Don's frustration was almost overwhelming. The woman was so pig
headed. She never really heard anything that he said, except maybe, to
redirect his innocent replies toward her own pre-defined ends. In all
fairness, Don was convinced that Dr. Adams was a female chauvinist of the
first magnitude. That she took an unhealthy delight in the destruction of
his male personality. "Dr. Adams?" Mumbled Don.
"Yes Debra. You want to go. OK! Oh yes," she said as if trying to
remember something.
"Debra, I've taken the liberty too many of your clothes are, ah let
us say TOO masculine. I've had all of them" her lips literally curled into
a snarl when she said, "eliminated! You will find some beautiful frocks in
their place. Now don't forget, sweetheart, to remember every chance you
get just HOW LUCKY YOU ARE TO BE FEMALE!"
Dr. Linda Adams' mind was at peace as her patient left the office.
But deep down in her unconscious lurked a swirl of excitement, for this was
not just another patient. The fact was all too evident in her dreams. The
slight creature with the strawberry blond hair, whimsical lips and the
personality of a male just waiting to be dominated, often appeared, naked
in her vulnerability. Linda's own unresolved conflict with male authority,
in part a reaction to her overly dominant father lay, unconsciously, at the
center of her motive structure. She had seen pictures of this changeling
as his male self. His strong, masculine face had projected the same aura
of power that was so so much like her own Daddy. Linda Adams had never
forgiven her father for leaving her and mom. It was as if he had rejected
HER. Selfish men! They took their pleasure and then left the women to
suffer through life alone. If only men could carry the burden, the
responsibility for what sex and love produced. No Don Arnold was not JUST
a patient he was an opportunity to wreak symbolic revenge upon the
oppressors. Of course, she was not conscious of any of this. Heaven
forbid! She was a professional!
Hamilton Thorn was a genius, a fact that had gone unrecognized for
nearly thirty years. Ham had become one of the faceless bureaucrats in the
National Bureau Standards shortly after publishing his dissertation on
Quantum Topology, a breakthrough that, prior to the moment that he had
first seen the data from the errant Cedar-Death Valley Research Center, had
absolutely no practical application. Worse yet, a theory, his numerous
critics had offered, that was completely untestable, in other words,
meaningless! Enough said! Only he could untangle the mystery left behind
by the Fairy.
It was through the good offices of General Jack Walker that he had
even heard of the amazing data and it was through his sister,
Mrs. J. Walker, that his appointment was made. But thirty years of
obscurity had left their mark on Ham. A trace of madness, well hidden
below the surface, was now in full bloom. No one, but no one knew of the
full potential of this process. It promised godhood! On the surface, Ham
was but one of a number of lackeys now laboring in the laboratories at
Cedar-Death Valley, but he had no desire to hand the ultimate control of
this discovery to the politicos or the military or, for that matter,
anyone!
Ham was developing two records. One, the official record, would
indicate a "promise" of future findings of some considerable value.
Something to hold out to his superiors, something to encourage their
continued support AND to misdirect the efforts of his colleagues. No minor
matter, the latter, for the government effort had brought in some excellent
minds. Fortunately for Ham, none were familiar with his work or even a
hint of the real solution. And the second, carefully crafted to ride
safely within the Laboratory's central computing system, literally embedded
in the security subsystem, the real record. Not just a list of facts and
calculations, but a working program that would, eventually, allow Ham to
control the hidden NETWORK OF THE FAIRY!
But there were unknowns to deal with, other than the process itself,
of course. Although Dr. Donald Arnold didn't strike Ham as a mental giant,
he knew more about the process (from the inside-out you might say) than
(almost?) anyone else. Having picked the man- turned woman's brain
exhaustively when he first arrived, Ham felt like there was little more to
gain. Yet the metamorph posed a certain danger. The potential that he
might see through the ruse that Hamilton had created for the other
researchers for one. Some of the data that Ham had "manipulated" had
originally been collected by the good doctor turned fairy princess. If
caught in a lie, at least too early...
He hadn't been able to isolate Arnold, but with the help of that twit
psychologist, he might keep the transexed man sufficiently occupied. Yes,
even psychologists have their uses sometimes. The real danger was
Dr. Brian Anderson, partly because the man was, as yet, an unknown. What
did he know? The fact that he had fled suggested that he too might have
ambitions.
It had been over a month since Ham had arrived on site; five weeks
then since Anderson had disappeared. The FBI's failure to solve this
mystery should soon be corrected. Seems aunt Jenny's sister-in-law knows
someone who knows someone. Anyway, as hard as it was to believe, the Mob
had some history with this process. Yes the Mob. The Mob's got an idea,
if the price is right, on where or how to find the missing Dr. Anderson!
Hope so, thought Ham.
Things had not worked out at all as Brian had expected. And some of
it was quite disturbing indeed. As he finished drying himself off, he
looked around for the scented body powder. Mike Simms, A.K. "Smith", had
proven to be a wonderful man. OK. A crook, a con, a thief, but a little
one in a city with more than its share of real nasties. His neck and
cheeks colored reflexively as he thought, I'm in love with him. The idea
of him, Brian Anderson, being in love with anyone, especially a man was,
well, impossible. But as Betty...the new thought caused his groin to
tingle just a little.
Applying his make up took his full concentration. He was getting good
at it, but the task was far from automatic. Long gone was the short red
hair. Fact was, it was a full time job keeping it short. Within a day of
being cut, it would all grow out. And frankly, his "natural" color, if
there was anything natural about this body, was just perfect. As he
finished his face, he was always startled by how beautiful she was, he let
out an audible sigh. What was really amazing was that sometimes he
completely forgot that he was he. Sometimes it seemed like he was, well,
she and always had been Betty. It wasn't as if he had chosen to be a woman
or, for that matter, had ever wanted to be a woman. But he was becoming
her...Betty. If he gave up HIS identity, he wanted it to be an act of
voluntary choice. It was like she was on the wings, waiting, somewhat
impatiently, for him to get out of the way. Brian liked Betty a great deal
more than Betty seemed to like Brian, and that was a disturbing fact.
As he slipped his bra around and then over his breasts and pulled on
the strap, his face was the picture of concentration. He had one real
advantage over so called real women. While they practiced their art of
seduction, they were always limited. They had to guess what it was that
men found to be sexy. As a man, Brian didn't have to guess he knew exactly
from the inside out. His breasts were fine, well better than fine,
fantastic but with a little help from some pads properly placed here and
here-. "Ah!" He said out loud.
"Now this WILL get their attention!"
After all that effort, putting on the dress that he wore as a cocktail
waitress at the El Cortez, seemed more as an after thought. Now as "Betty"
turned to leave, the sound of taffeta completed a complex melody with the
swish of nylons and the click of her high heels provided the percussion.
At that moment, there was only Betty. Beautiful, fantastic Betty.
He was a little rat face snitch. A coward. No! Worse! He had to
be something worse. Why didn't Betty tell me that it was THEM. His hands
were a twitchy as he left the back of the casino and headed down the dark
alley. Why would THEY want HER. No! He didn't want to know. He hadn't
survived this long by crossing people like Vinnie. And then for no reason
he found himself crying like some baby or something.
She was too good for me, he rationalized. I'm just ordinary. She's a
princess. Somehow he was able to gulp back the self-pity. Two doors down
he entered the back of a bar and headed for the phone in the can.
God Be there! He said silently. Please!
"Mike!" Betty chimed as soon as she heard his voice. "What's wrong?
You sound..."
"Shut up and listen. What ever you do DON'T go to the casino."
"They're there? The FBI?"
"The what! Betty, whatever they may be, FBI they ain't! FBI? Fuck
woman, you better hope that the FBI are coming 'cause these creeps..."
Suddenly, a big-ugly grabbed the phone from Mike and put it to his
ear. "Mike. Mike you there?" Her voice took on a hysterical tone.
"You's stay right there little lady." And then the brute slammed
Mike's head against the pay phone mounted against the wall. "If ya sees
what I mean."
The sound of hysterical screams sliced out from the receiver and then
were suddenly gone. Betty had cut the connection.
Chapter 6
Linda Adams was both surprised and delighted when Dr. Thorn expressed
interest in her work with Don Arnold. Most of the technical staff at the
Cedar-Death Valley site and especially the "hard-science" types treated the
psychologists there well rather poorly. And he had such interesting ideas.
She had kidded him that maybe he was really a Psychologist at heart.
Anyhow, he had given her some Zybertal, a new and highly experimental
drug that, it was reported, suppressed conscious voluntary behavior. How
in the hell a mathematician could get a hold of such a item was completely
beyond her. Of course, ethically she couldn't use it unless she could get
an MD. to cooperate. Of course she wouldn't do that. After all, the
paperwork alone...
Such a drug, when coupled with hypnosis, could work wonders though. I
mean absolute WONDERS. Her brow scrunched into a frown, Dr. Thorn really
was supportive. It'd be a shame, well, to spurn his attention. In her
professional heart, she knew that it would be wrong to use the Zybertal on
poor Debra. Absolutely wrong!
As she was walking across the compound, her little angel appeared.
The sweet child saw her and attempted to evade, but alas, too late. Her
patient was wearing a scruffy sweatshirt and loose fitting jeans of
uncertain origin. A clear violation of Dr. Adams instructions. "Dear!"
called out the good psychologist. Her mind was still running through the
debate as she frustrated the transexual's attempt to escape. Such a drug
would magnify her power over the spiteful child a hundred fold at least.
How could she NOT! "Dear!" she called again, her voice all full of sugar.
"Now come with me." She said as she looped one arm around the redhead's
slender shoulders. "We've just got to talk!"
Talk they did, after forcing poor Debra to drink a particularly bitter
tea. He did everything but spill the horrible concoction on the floor.
Under her watchful eye he eventually gulped it down. "Thank you for this
little chat." He said sarcastically, " But I've got to go. Round table at
2:00 you know."
He never made it to the door, of course. Might have given him too
much, she thought. But after he finished throwing up, he became
wonderfully cooperative. First there was the hypnotic session: something
she had not been able to do with him before. The post- hypnotic worked
perfectly. "How many angels can fit on the head of a pin." She said. And
the child's eyes crossed momentarily before closing. "Deep, deep asleep."
She ordered.
And then the instructions began.
The process went on for hours. Finally when Dr. Adams had
accomplished all that she wanted, at least for this session, she said.
"You will remember NOTHING of what happened this afternoon. But when you
hear the phrase: How many angels can fit on the head of a pin...you will
fall into this delightfully restive sleep Do you understand my child?
Fine, now go."
Poor Don was bewildered as he left Dr. Adams' office. Although it
seemed that he had been there but for a few minutes, the sun had shifted
from it's high position in the sky and even now sought to hide behind the
Funeral Mountains.
His concern for the gap in his memory faded as he slipped into the hot
bath. Easing down into the white mountains of bubbles with their pungent
flowery odor filling the whole compartment his eyes began to close in lazy
anticipation "WHAT!" He exclaimed as he jerked up right in the tub. A
quick shower, usually when he arose in the morning, was more his
style...and bubble bath? The sweet smell would cling to him..."What in the
Hell?" He again groaned audibly. THAT woman, he thought. Somehow THIS is
her doing.
But as he struggled to get out of the tub, his limbs became rubbery
and non- responsive. "SHIT! AND DAMN HER ASS!" He yelled out, to no one
of course but himself. And finally he gave in to the compulsion.
He wasn't at all surprised when, after he was finally allowed to
terminate his bath, he found himself painting his nails. Rather than
fighting it, he observed, dispassionately, the many little but time
consuming labors required to bring his body into full feminine perfection.
It couldn't be long now he thought, as he finished adjusting his silk
dress. He gingerly lifted the hem of the skirt to check one last time on
his nylons before climbing into his heels. He had worn heels before, but
never anything quite so high. It took some concentration to walk without
stumbling but by the third tour around the apartment, he had it down.
Movement. Every little behavior was feminine. And try as he might,
Don just couldn't stop it. God knows he tried. How could she do this to
me?
And the woman in the mirror was really quite extraordinary, he
thought. She had always been there for the last almost three years. But
now fully revealed and to what purpose does she appear now on this night?
What is that cunt up to?
The struggle between the emerging personality of Betty and the well
established persona of Brian was sharp but, fortunately, brief. Betty was
traumatized by the brutal drama that had been played out for her benefit,
indeed, it had shocked her into a stupor. But Brian was free to act and
act he did.
I got to get out of here now! It took less than 30 seconds to stuff a
few things into his bag. He already had the car keys in hand and was ready
to run for the car when he paused. They knew what "she" looks like. Where
"she" was hell, even what "she" was driving. The brief, revealing costume,
fine for the casino, would never do for...Betty would standout in almost
any crowd and there are only a few roads that connect Las Vegas with the
rest of the world. Brian was trapped, unless...
He opened the small wooden case that he had carried every since he had
left the research center. There, inside, were three small glass beads.
Each had been taken from the same material that had been used in the
Translation Platform. Each, in theory, could evoke, in limited fashion,
the same process...they could trigger the enormously powerful Fairy
Network. But what would they produce? Unknown.
With a pair of tweezers, Brian tried to extract one of these beads
from the case. In spite of the fact that he had not actually touched the
material, he was suddenly aware that it was acting upon his body. Somehow
the metal tweezers allowed the force to be conducted, like electricity it
passed through the steel. Not quite what he had planned on, he dropped his
grip on the fantastic marble. "I don't have time for THIS! NOT NOW! NOT
HERE!" He groaned and flopped against the mobile home's metal siding.
It took nearly 70 seconds for the change to run to completion, Logical
Brian had timed it. As she, and she was stills he, struggled to her feet,
he unsnapped the now inadequate bra. It was it was cutting him in two.
Over all this body was bigger, height had increase but these boobs! It
looked like he had gone to a plastic surgeon and asked to have the super
deluxe model. Unzipping the much too small costume, he re-enter Mike's
trailer to find some alternative covering.
Startled by the face that reflected back. The hair was still long and
brown, but instead of straight, it was a mass of curls, light, honey-brown
curls. The face was rounder and the eyes, green. Having slipped into one
of Mike's sweat suits, Brian was ready to go. "OK! Let them look for
Betty. I'll be Bertha." The creature in the mirror grabbed her big tits
and sang out to the empty room, "Big Bertha!"
Brian didn't need it now, but what the hay, it might provide some
comic relief and maybe, just maybe it might save Mike's life. Now wearing
a pair of rubber gloves, which seemed to do the trick, he extracted another
of his magic marbles from the box. He shoved this little jewel into a
small gap in the trailer's metal siding. If he was correct, the whole
trailer would become an extension of the transformation field embedded
within the tiny sphere. It'd probably be wildly erratic but it would sure
give the opposition, who ever they are, some pause. Indeed, they might
never figure out how he did it.
Brian left the car setting in the drive and the lights on in the
trailer. With the door locked shut, it looked all the world like little
Betty was there for the taking. Too bad he couldn't stay for the show. A
long walk across the desert to a truck stop on the old road. A lift and
then, well it was time to return to the fight. God I hope Mike's OK, he
thought as he slipped into the darkness, for Betty wasn't gone, just
temporally set aside. Moments after Brian disappeared, car lights suddenly
bathed the trailer.
Vinnie remained in the Lincoln as his crew of thugs descended upon
the trailer. Less than two years ago he had been involved in a similar
episode, back in LA. Naw, too dangerous. One false step and you could
really get fucked-up. Let the boys take the risk, that's what they get
paid for, he thought. He knew that two of them would work their way around
to the back of the trailer, just in case can't be too careful, while two
more of his boys held their ground at the front. Four men to retrieve one
tiny, little chick. Of course, she wasn't all that she "seemed" to be.
Vinnie knew exactly who and what the cunt really was. Too bad Mikie got
terminated. It would've been fun to tell'm exactly what he had been
screwing. Vinnie's shrill, unpleasant laugh rang out in the still desert
air.
Gus started to reach out for the door knob but them paused, the damn,
cheap construction of the door was just too much temptation. He raised his
foot and with one explosive blow kicked it open. The thick rubber soles of
his boot insulated him from the latent power that coursed through the
metal. Swiftly both he and Hal stepped into the trailer. Moving rapidly,
even gracefully, Hal turned right toward the front of the unit and Gus,
toward the back.
Time seemed to stand still for Vinnie. After the door had been kicked
in, all was quiet. Finally he got out of the car and moved toward the
trailer. Moments later he was joined by Bruce and Chuck coming back from
the rear of the unit. "Go on, help'm out." Vinnie was not about to go
inside until he knew it was safe.
From the inside of the trailer, Gus called out. "Boss. Ain't nobody
home but us chickens."
"Shit!" Muttered Vinnie. "Well she couldn't have gotten far."
Finally he poked his head inside. "You and Hal take the 4-wheel drive and
check out the whole area. "Chuck, you and Bruce, check every street in the
area. Now where in the hell is the phone?"
As soon as he had his partner on the phone, he leaned back to rest
against the door frame. "Joey," he said, oblivious at first of the mild
prickling sensation for his jacket provided substantial insulation from the
full effects of the Transformational Field. "Yea, the broad's not here.
Naw. There's no place for her to hide. OK All right. I'll check it out.
Anything big enough for a mouse." He hung up the phone and walked away
from the door. The prickling sensation attenuated but did not come to a
complete cessation.. "Move your butts, times a-wasting." He ordered his
boys out of the trailer. "And remember assholes-" He called after them.
"We want her alive more or less." He chuckled.
He slouched through the unit looking for anything amiss. He felt kind
a funny, like maybe a flu coming on. His joints were bothering him a
little, his stomach was just a little flippy. Must have been those
scallops...As he bent over to check out the bed, he felt an unfamiliar tug
on his chest. TITTIES! His hands felt little tits under his jacket His
face broke out in a sweat as he ripped open the front of his shirt. "OH My
GOD!" He exclaimed. Little bitty tits with great big, dark, long nipples
like you would never see on a man.
He sat there on the floor for the longest time. No! Not like what
happened to those guys in Cleveland! God NO! Not ME! Finally he pulled
himself up. In the mirror there was HIS face. Thank God. And a quick
check in his pants confirmed that he was still intact where it counted.
"How in the Hell did she pull this off?" He croaked out loud. What ever
was going on, Vinnie knew that he had had one very close call.
Call it just bad luck or maybe the running out of luck, Vinnie would
have understood that, he was a gambler, but as he left the trailer, almost
home free, he pulled the door shut behind him. The moment that his bare
hand made contact with the metal door knob, the transformation process was
engaged without attenuation. Indeed, the field distortion created by the
metal trailer had a rather unusual effect.
Chapter 7
A fly! A common house fly appeared on the Fairy Translation device.
The event was missed by all, except Ham. You had to know when and where to
look. And after exactly 5 seconds, it was gone. Oh yes, the
electromagnetic spectrum screamed as if something had happened and there
wasn't a technician on shift that didn't know that an "event" had occurred.
But none knew what or why except Ham. He was terribly pleased with
himself.
One more incident to miss-direct their attention. More important, his
program WORKED! He could have as easily created a mountain of gold as this
tiny fly. But then the gold would have been detected on the cameras which
kept constant vigil. No the fly, in all of its biological complexity was
every bit the challenge and more than a pile of useless gold and it fell
just outside the resolution of these tireless watch dogs. And this was but
the beginning of a really great night, Ham was going to discover when he
returned to his apartment.
"Excuse me!" he said, a little startled by the figure in the shadows
by his door. "Aren't you..?" It was Dr. Donald Arnold. Obviously, it was
him, concluded Ham. But the transsexual had never looked quite
so...seductive. "Is there something I can do for you?" The woman, for in
all of her perfect, this could ONLY BE A WOMAN no trace of the masculine
personality was evident, dropped her eyes in embarrassment. "Dr. Adams,"
She began, in a small voice shaded by tremors . "I was to give you
this..." and she held out an envelope. "She said that you would know what
to do." Her voice faltered.
The note was in Dr. Adams own hand writing. Basically it said thank
you in that long winded style the woman had. The drug had worked miracles,
see for yourself. And then here was the best part: this child, as
Dr. Adams referred to Don Arnold, needed to make the transition into full
womanhood. She couldn't think of a more perfect person to perform the
initiation. A smile spread across Ham's face as he looked away from the
note to this picture of perfect feminine beauty, now standing quietly, head
bowed, her hands clasped in front of her. A GIFT! And then the P.S.
"Dear Dr. Thorn. Debra is not yet fully accepting of her new role. If she
should give you any problem, just say the following: How many angels can
dance on the head of a pin. This is a simple post- hypnotic suggestion. I
am confident that a man of your intelligence will be able to work wonders
with her. Again, Thank you for all that you have done. Your servant,
Linda A." Servant indeed. In a while, I'll have the whole world at my beck
and call. But then this does seem like a good way to practice my impending
Godhood yes it does.
"Come here Don." He ordered. A malicious smile spread over his face.
He was going to take this sexy woman tonight but he wasn't going to give
the man the pretense of being female. No, he would rub his face in the
truth. "No! Closer! Closer still." When finally she was pressing her
lush breasts against his chest he said, "I want you to suck my cock as if
it were the most precious, wonderful thing in the world, which it is. And
while your doing this I want you to imagine yourself as the male you were,
also doing this to me right now right here."
"Come-on, get started!" Growled Ham. But Don did not move. His eyes
were as big as saucers but he was passively refusing to follow his
instructions.
"Very well," Said Ham. "How many angels can dance on the head of a
pin. Now don't go to sleep on me, " He said as he grabbed her collapsing
body. "Look at me when I speak! There, that's better. What ever I want
YOU WILL DO!" Then taking a handful of her hair, he yanked her head down
toward his crotch. "NOW!"
It wasn't so much that Ham wanted a blow job, of course, he wanted to
establish his total control over Don. And when the transsexual had sucked
enough, he started to pull her head away. "Don, your female self can't get
enough. She'll try harder and harder to hang on to this wonderful cock."
Instantly the vigor of Don's sucking increased, little moans issued from
HER throat. "Your male self will become increasingly disgusted. You want
to throw up but you can not! Sick, horrified that THAT thing in your mouth
WILL spew forth cum!"
The small redhead's face broke out in a pale sweat. She looked sick
yet the vigor of her sucking increased as did her sexual arousal. Finally,
Ham couldn't restrain himself any longer, though really the fun was just
beginning, he began to cum.
Don sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed as if there could be no
end and then, quite abruptly began to throw up.
"Lets go to the bedroom and get better acquainted." Said Ham a few
seconds later. "Yes really", he smirked, "I've never known a woman who is
also a man. It's an interesting idea something worthy of MY attention."
Brian-Betty-Bertha made it easily out of Las Vegas and the trucker
that picked her up had been a complete gentleman. Things became a little
dicey only later. He picked up a second ride in Riverside, south to Laguna
Beach. This time his luck wasn't quite so good. The driver, a traveling
salesman, began to make advances immediately. It wasn't just that he was
turned on by "her", a perfectly reasonable response, but there was
something evil in his eyes, hurtful. She wasn't surprised then when he
turned off Crown Parkway, less than a mile from Brian's destination, and
drove into a deserted housing development. She didn't speak and he didn't
have to. He licked his lips in anticipation and with his eyes fixated on
the swell of his passenger's full breasts, he jerked-out a knife from his
coat pocket. The blade flashed in the dark.
"Hey! You don't have to do that." Brian simpered. To have come this
far only to be mangled or even killed by a kook Brian was almost too
frightened to think. And then, suddenly, an idea. "Want t'a get high
first. Huh? Got some totally awesome stuff...Mister?"
He just continued to look at her like some kind of bug he was about to
step on. Nervously Brian open the small box containing the two remaining
marbles of silicone and held the box toward the man. "Huh?" The salesman
muttered. But his curiosity got the better of him.
He plucked one of the tiny pellets out of the box and before Brian
could react popped it into his MOUTH AND GULPED IT DOWN! The look on his
face was extraordinary but Brian didn't take time to watch the latest
transformation. Grabbing the door handle, Brian flung himself from the car
and ran off into the night.
The salesman tried to follow his intended victim. Flinging his door
open and leaping to his feet in one motion, he stood there for the briefest
moment still holding his knife intact, fully unaffected by the material
that he has swallowed. But the superficial image of the man was a lie.
His internal structures were already entirely feminine. And then, more
dramatically than in earlier transformations in which the process worked
from the outside in, the male exterior collapsed in an instant. The newly
created female, awash in a suit that no longer fit, screamed out into the
quiet of the night, "What the HELL was in that shit!" And then she began
to cry hysterically.
Vinnie went crazy. Even though the night air was cold, he or rather
IT had removed every shred of clothing. No prick, not even a pussy existed
between it's legs. The hairless crotch looked more like something from
Mattel, completely devoid of any sexual reference, a doll, a plastic
Ken-Barbie doll. Gone also were the little tits with the large nipples.
Now small mound, bumps really, without nipples, sat upon is chest. He
wasn't skinny but thin from the lack of any apparent muscle development.
Pre-adolescent and totally devoid of hair, Vinnie sought out the relative
protection of the car.
Vinnie couldn't just go back to the club. He remembered what had
happened to the other men who had fallen under the influence of this
transformation. How the organization had sent them into a brothel.
Though, considering his body now, it seemed clear that he had no "sexual"
function. Maybe being a broad wasn't such a bad alternative after all. A
neuter, more childlike than adult, what possible future did he have?
There was only one person that he could call that would take him in
under any circumstances. A safe haven until he could work things out. On
the car phone he dialed a familiar number. And when a sleep filled voice
answered he said, "Momma?"
Ham's gaze was riveted on the sexy, voluptuous red head now setting
on the edge of the bed. He had been doing so for several minutes and Don
was getting anxious. In an attempt to break the awkward moment Don raised,
in a timorous voice, a question: "Dr. Thorn, If you want, I mean, if your
done...can I go..."
With a flip of his hand, as if brushing off a fly, he dismissed Don's
request. "Just thinking." Ham grunted and then continued to stare.
Imagine having absolute power over matter all matter, he thought. Imagine
that he could have ANYTHING that he wanted, would that not, in time, become
trite. No conquest, no mountain to climb. This sexy man-woman, was a good
example. Ham was startled to find that he couldn't even imagine what, for
example, he could do to her that would make "her" more exotic, more
interesting yet in a few hours, he would be able to do ANYTHING that he
could imagine. Yet she was "perfect", surprisingly "perfect" for him.
"In a few hours," He began talking. He was speaking as much to
himself as he was to his captive. "I will be GOD. My power will be
absolute. But I deem it my pleasure to allow you, of all those that might
be in my presence a degree of independence. Free to obey or not as you
chose. To do less would be boring. When you please me I shall reward you
and when you do not."
Reward?"
"What ever you want, Don, if it pleases me. You pose a real, if
slight danger to me free and independent. I relish that. Life without
risk would be simply a bore."
"Anything?" Don's voice choked up.
"To be a man again, if that is what you want. Exactly your old self
or maybe younger, healthier, whatever." Ham's voice had grown stronger
somehow, more confident as if he had met a major problem and solved it for
all time.
"Yes, I want to be just me again. For three years, that is all that I
have sought."
"Fine Don. Now it pleases me that you will remain as you are until
morning. It pleases me that you will be my lover tonight of your own free
will. Take off your clothes, but please do so slowly and with feeling my
man-woman."
Chapter 8
Vinnie didn't look like Vinnie, nor did he sound like him and the poor
creature was naked as well, but his mother took him into her care without
any proof for she knew that this WAS her only living child, Vincent Ramano
D' la Rosa. She was just glad that he was alive.
A good night sleep and she was at him again. "Vincent, you need to
see a good Doctor, like Smith down at the clinic where I go."
"Momma, like I said." He interrupted. "Ain't no Doctor alive that
can fix what's wrong with me not in this life time." He was still huddled
on the bed, his naked body wrap in a quilt. "Can ya find someth'n for me
to wear or not?"
The old woman came back in a few minutes, carrying a faded pair of
blue jeans. "These should do." Her practiced eye scanning her son's
slight figure.
"Who's are they? Looks like Sissy's" His face wrinkled in dismay.
"Yes Sissy's. I kept them all these years. Ever since she
died... Now you just try to put them on. Besides, they're only jeans, not
really girl's clothes Vincent."
"You could've fooled me." He said eyeing the pink trimmed pockets and
the argyle pull over his mother carried in her other hand. No panties,
thank God he said to himself. She left him alone to get dressed.
In spite of the fact that they hadn't been worn for a long time it had
been nearly 10 years since his kid sister's death, Vinnie could still pick
up a faint trace of Sissy's perfume and maybe even a very slight hint of
her body odor. Vinnie felt the sadness well up inside. Momma probably
never washed them, just kept them in her closet all these years. His first
sniff made him feel funny like...like last night. But nothing more. After
a brief hesitation, he pulled on the pants. The waist was snug and the
hips and ass, well what did you expect too loose.
It was when he tried to put on the pull over that things started going
weird. The faint female odors went right to his head making him a little
high, like pot or something. And then the itching began. First in his
crotch and then it quickly spread to his head. "God Damn!" He swore out
loud. But the sight of rapidly growing hair on his previously bald head
was a delight. "Mamma!" He called out. "Look at this!"
By the time he had found his mamma, in the kitchen, the silky white
hair was nearly down to his shoulders. Small little breast buds puckered
the front of his pullover. Even the pants fit a lot better.
Mamma looked horrified. "Mamma, what's wrong?"
"Vincent, she said with her eyes filling with tears. Vincent.
Vincent! That's cruel."
"Mamma?"
"Making yourself look like your little sister." And she began to cry.
Brian had made his way into the Laguna Beach compound unseen. The
place was nearly deserted, that was surprising considering that it was a
weekday morning. He managed to locate a computer terminal that was still
functional and, within a matter of minutes, was in communication with the
Cray at Cedar-Death Valley via fiber-optical land link. He brushed past
the security blocks with ease and was soon becoming acquainted with the
very strange situation that had developed since his sudden departure over a
month ago. It wasn't the fact that the Feds had commandeered the facility,
that was almost to be expected given the thrust of the research; certainly
it wasn't the fact that Don was still there but no longer in any position
of authority, that was almost expected; no the real surprise was found in
the most recent transmutation data. Even with the existence of the Fairy
Transmutation Device, Brian expected to discover an orderly world. He
knew, to the 10th decimal place, exactly what this record "should" look
like, at least to a first approximation, and it didn't!
Hours later Brian had discovered exactly what had happened but not how
or why. The record that had first caught his eye, the last transmutation
had NOT actually occurred EXACTLY at the silicone interface! It was as if
someone had found a way of by passing that molecular structure and somehow
communicate directly with the Fairy Network. It was obvious, that once
free of the constraints imposed by the initial interface, one could create
ANYTHING!
This alone would have boggled Brian's mind, but the fact was that the
"official" records failed to document this startling finding. Whoever had
unlocked the secrets of the mechanism, and it seemed unlikely to be
Dr. Arnold, was keeping everyone else in the dark.
Brian remained at the terminal throughout the rest of the day as bits
and pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. It was nearly midnight
the bleary eyed scientist had discovered precisely who had worked the
solution: Dr. Hamilton Thorn of the National Bureau Standards. Minutes
later, Brian's biographic search pulled out an abstract of Dr. Thorn's
Dissertation. Although there was far too little information in the
abstract itself, there was enough to point the way toward the solution.
Brian found a cubbie hole in which to sleep without being discovered.
He was just too tired to continue.
"Get up my sleepy head." Hamilton Thorn nudged his beautiful
companion. She sat up, momentarily disorientated. Her disheveled hair
forming a cloud which only partly hid her breasts which were still swaying
from her abrupt movement.
She blinked once and then again as she look at Ham. "Then it wasn't
dream. You...we.."
"Enough. While you were still sleeping I put the finishing touches on
your matrix. I just wanted you to be awake to enjoy my triumph."
"Matrix? Triumph?" A sleepy yawn leaked out of her mouth.
"I've taken the liberty to make you a little younger and trimmer. Oh
yes, new clothes."
"What?"
"Your reconversion back to that male body that you have struggled so
long to achieve. Now! Here!"
"Here? How is that possible?"
"If you must know," Ham said with a self satisfied grin on his face.
I can now communicate directly with the interface. And so more talk or do
you want to do it?" Even before Don nodded his pretty head, Ham initiated
the transference of the altered numerical code which was now Dr. Donald
Arnold to the Network. The delay, which lasted at least 30 seconds, caused
Ham considerable concern, for this was really the first attempt to
communicate completely outside the field generated by the Transmutation
Device. And finally it arrived. No slow transition, for the communication
was one way now. With an audible plop, Don Arnold fell to the floor beside
the bed. "Whoa!" He exclaimed. His rich baritone voice suddenly filling
the bedroom. His hands went first to his chest and then his head and
finally to his groin. No naked body here: light gray woolen slacks of the
finest quality, ditto on the silk shirt and cashmere sports coat. Italian
loafers, a gold watch which looked like it had a handful of diamonds on its
face. Every detail was perfect, down to the soft Scottish woolen hosiery.
Don, his face grinning from ear to ear, scrambled to the mirror to gaze at
his own reflection. Most of the gray was gone from his hair, only a little
at the temples which looked great!
"When you are done admiring yourself, Dr. Arnold, you are free to go."
"Go? Where?"
"Absolutely any where you want."
"Any where, even leave the facility?"
"That includes anywhere." Said Ham with a grin.
"And if you should want me...?"
"Never mind, Don. Go! Enjoy!"
As Hamilton Thorn watched Don almost dance across the lawn he
thought, not so free my dear Don as you might think. Ham had made some
microscopic adjustments in Don's matrix that were not so obvious. If,
given the opportunity for sex, poor Don would discover that he was no
longer a ladies man. Nothing obvious. He could still lust after women and
with his money and "improved" appearance, he would not lack the
opportunity. And sex of course. All perfectly excellent, at least
superficially. But at heart, Don would not be a lady's man but a man's
lady! Yes! Sex as a man would be a pale reflection of that he had enjoyed
as a woman. Possible? NO! CERTAIN! For Hamilton Thorn was but one step
from Godhood and he knew precisely what Don's matrix contained.
The salesman stood there bleary-eyed before the 7/11 clerk, what the
hell, he thought. I'm on a drug that the bitch gave me. Its got to be
THAT! Dawn had not yet arrived at this tiny corner of the corporate empire
of the Seven/Eleven and the bright eyed Indian who was standing behind the
counter seemed ready enough to respond to him. "Excuse me sir," Began the
salesman in an obviously feminine voice.
"Yes" responded the Indian, his "s" rising in a lilting fashion. "Be
of service?" He continued, the "e" now carried upward, almost to the
ceiling. The small, dark man was of not a danger to anyone, the salesman
concluded.
"Do I look Ah! Er Female?" The salesman finally blurted out.
The little guy really didn't know what to say to the woman. "Excuse
me?" He shrilled. He had left L.A. two years ago to avoid nuts and yet
here he was in the heart of Orange County, speaking to an obviously well
endowed woman, before the sun had even come up, as to her probable sex! So
he just stood there, open mouthed.
"Geeze!" Said the salesman as he decided to pull off his jacket and,
after a brief hesitation, started to unbutton his shirt. "Do these LOOK
like BREASTS!" He demanded.
The poor clerk was frazzled, for pointing at him was about the finest
pair of knockers he had ever hoped to see. Eyes popping open, he gapped.
"Veritably! Yes trueeely M'Lady."
Shit, thought the salesman. This wasn't exactly what he had expected.
"Comm'on. If they are real you'cud touch them. Go'on!"
The clerk was split between hitting the emergency button and jumping
onto the fleshy mounds that hung over his polished counter. "Excuse..."
His voice dangled between heaven and earth.
"Damn it!" Blurted out the salesman. "Here" And he pulled the small,
brown man's hand to his phantom breast.
"Oh My OH! MY!" Blurted out the Indian clerk, but the transformation
invoked by the contact with the breast stilled his voice, at least
momentarily. In less than a minute thirty seconds, there were two
identical young women alone in that Seven/Eleven.
"Bri?"
"Don? DON!"
"I don't know why, but I just knew that it was you Bri. Gotten a
little taller and a lot bustier..."
"Thorn Right!"
"Thorn? How ya know?"
"Three days staring at this monitor, that's how. God, Don, you look
great. You look younger, healthier, I mean ah before the change that is AH
and all. Don We got to stop him. The man's dangerous."
"Yea, Bri. You got that right. Plan?"
Chapter 9
It was incredible, when you think of it. High over head was a stealth
bomber, cost, in excess of a cool BILLION dollars, more money than most
third world countries generated in a year and far more than Hamilton Thorn
had ever thought of, before this month, and all because of HIM. He could
almost feel the tactical nuclear missile lancing down at him at MACH 5.
Washington had finally become aware of the danger Ham presented. Enough
that some or all of the 7,000 people in the 500 square mile area around
Cedar- Death Valley could be considered expendable.
And it was all too late! The warhead vanished as it broke the 5 mile
limit created by Ham. A few minutes later, the high-tech aircraft also
went off the radar. Just gone! And now time to reply! What was left of
the technical-scientific staff, for most had been departing over the last
17 hours, would never leave. They would become little more than toys for
Ham. Intellectual capacities terminated, they would be creatures driven by
their altered limbic systems. Toys to please Ham's most obscure pleasures.
Too bad he couldn't as yet take on the Establishment. But that too would
come, in time. No, Ham's Godhood extended only 5 miles in radius now. But
within that sphere it was total! The field that Ham generated, no longer
constrained by the primary code expressed in the Fairy Transmutation
Device, could form what ever he wished it to form and by rules that were,
almost, without limit. In a flight of whimsy, he began to create a virtual
enchanted desert. Creatures, large and small, previously known only in
fairy tales were coming into existence today.
The village of Two Egg, population 207, sat astride state route 21.
Unfortunately for Two Egg, the northern fringe of the community, a bar and
a handful of sand scarred and sun blasted mobile homes, lay just inside
Ham's Transmutation Field. In fact, the rundown stucco building that
housed the bar was actually bisected by the field. The latter fact had
saved, thus far, the owner and her two early afternoon customers from
transmutation. Such close proximity to the field however was not without
impact. Like butterflies, Melody thought, as she wiped her hands dry on the
tattered apron around her ample waist. Her stomach was doing flips and for
no reason. Her worrying was broken by the arrival of a middle aged couple.
Tourists. Unhappy campers as well. The man's anger was evident by the way
he treated the woman. The woman was obviously intimidated by the man and
the bruise on one cheek clearly was not an accident. Melody's heart
immediately went out to the poor woman. Been there done that, she thought
sourly. Fact was, Melody never had much in the way of pleasant experiences
with men. Both the drunks in the bar right now were Ex's of hers, in one
way or another at least. Both were slobs and Terry, well he was as mean as
they come. But out here, you took what you could get. And being fat or
big boned as her mother used to say, well it didn't give a girl much to
chose from. Men!
She could see that the poor woman was in considerable stress, but what
could she do but mind her own damn business. Seconds after the couple had
gone to the head, Melody found herself compelled to get involved. It was
obvious that the couple's argument had resurfaced and from the sounds of
their voices it wouldn't be long until it came to blows. Not in my place!
No way!.. She grabbed her baseball bat from under the counter and nodded to
Terry to follow her.
The woman's voice had escalated into shrieking panic and, before
Melody could get to the back, it suddenly terminated. As Melody and Terry
pushed open the Lady's Room door with Carl now right behind, they were
greeted by a bellowing male voice which echoed in the small rest room.
As Melody adjusted her grip on the baseball bat, the man turned toward
her. The son of a bitch was totally naked! A giant prick jutted out from
his groin; half erect, it was the biggest cock that Melody had ever seen!
Only then did she notice his feet. Hooves! The man's legs were covered in
thick, animal like fur that extended down to his...Hooves! Melody tried to
back away from this apparition, but Terry and Carl, pushing to get inside,
were blocking her retreat. Melody screamed. "SON-OF-A-BITCH! IT'S A
MONSTER!"
That got their attention. Terry and Carl were instantly trying to
back peddle into the narrow hall way. Their coordination, muddled by
alcohol and by the tight tangle of bodies that had been created when the
big woman had suddenly reversed direction, became completely disrupted when
the door to the Men's Room banged open and expelled yet another body into
the fleeing mass. They all fell down in a heap. Drunk as he was, Carl
couldn't help but notice the full, round butt in his face or the emphatic
swell of her hips which he assayed with one hand. The naked woman squirmed
in an attempt to get free of the offending weight pressing down. "What do
we have here?" He said in a drunken voice.
"Larry?" Croaked the hoofed man-thing. He was the only one still
standing. "LARRY!" He yelled in a thunderous voice.
"Myra?" A muffled voice called from under the tangle of bodies.
"Myra. Help me I'm here. There's something terribly wrong!"
Whether by design or accident, the woman successfully pulled herself
free. Looking down at her naked body, she began to quiver all over. The
skin was pale green, the hair, what little there was, also green. She was
a tiny little woman, delicate beyond human comparison, that is, until she
turned and ran.
Her surprisingly plump bottom exited from view. A second later, the
man-thing, leaped over the remaining mass and followed. "What the hell was
that all about?" Gasped Melody.
"You know what I think," began Carl. "I think its time to have
another brew. Yep. As soon as I take a piss."
The Land Rover, now off road to avoid detection, bounced over the
desert floor. Dr. Donald Arnold had his hands full as he steered the
vehicle north by north-east. Brian's large breasts, unconstrained by a
bra, were executing fluid but erratic movements under his filthy sweat
suit. Finally Brian dropped the blue print that he had been studying for
the last hour and used his hand to steady his errant tits. "Hurts!"
"Yea, I know what you mean." Replied Don. "I mean...use to."
"The pumps! Exclaimed Brian. Ham can't do anything without that
Cray. And the Cray can't live without it's liquid nitrogen. The idea of
cryogenic circuits in the heat of Death Valley always seemed unnatural to
me anyhow. When we get inside, you hold his attention while I work my way
over to the primaries."
"So you think we got a chance?"
"Kill the Cray! Damn right we got a chance!" Brian repeated himself,
but more quietly the second time. "Damn right we got a chance. Ah! Don!
Do you feel that?"
"What?"
"Stop the car! Ah...ah..aaaah. Toooo late." Moaned Brian.
As soon as he had managed to bring the vehicle to an abrupt halt, Don
turned toward his companion. "I don't feel anything Bri what's wrong?"
"Your code. Ham must'a excluded your code..." And then Brian's body
began to waver as if he were about to disappear. For an instant he was
transparent and then SNAP! Brian had always been Brian. Something about
the man's personality soul had always leaked through, regardless of the
transmutation he had undergone but at that instant Don knew that his old
friend no longer existed. The eyes told it all. Pale yellow hypnotic eyes
that seemed to be filled with fire but no Brian.
Don lunged for the door handle, but the thing that was no longer Brian
grabbed for him. First one hand, then two and then three wrapped around
Don's arm. Round, full breasts were driven against Don's back, as three
more hands and arms clutched at him. With super-human strength, the
creature pulled Don onto his back and began to drag him across the bench
seat of the vehicle and then out of the car and onto the ground.
She straddled his hips. Two of her hands easily held him down as the
others began to strip off his clothing. Blinded by the intense desert sun,
Don could only make out the general outline of the figure above him. Like
a Hindu goddess...Not just the multiple limbs, but the fantastically
rounded contours of all HER aspects. And there was no question of it being
her, he thought, as his penis was engulfed by her vagina.
Her passion was that of an animal: raw, vigorous and immediate. And
when Don finally ejaculated, the creature looked deeply into Don's eyes as
if to assure herself that the male's service was really concluded. The
slit type pupils contracted to almost nothing as her snake like tongue
flick out, as if to sample the air. And then with a screech, her vagina
released Don's penis and then she was gone.
She had headed off in the general direction of the Cedar-Death Valley
Research Center. A fact that brought no comfort to Don. As he went about
gathering up his clothes, Don couldn't help think that he was too far over
his head to even think about challenging Hamilton Thorn's authority. Or
maybe, he mused, this was why Ham had let Don go in the first place. That
Ham knew that Don posed no real threat. Am I already his slave and just
don't know it? Don climbed back into the Rover to get out of the sun and
to think over his options.
Ham was having fun! He took a special interest in some of his
colleagues. The twit psychologist, Dr. Adams, for example. He left her
matrix almost unmodified. The additions were really minor: a really
generous penis and a stupendous pair of balls. Penis envy indeed! Stuff
it Freud. There was no reason to be all powerful if you can't help your
friends he giggled to himself. As a special favor, he had made an equally
minor modification of Dr. Adams' boss, Dr. Klosky. Seems having a pussy,
however, wasn't an easy adjustment for the good doctor. Anyhow, Linda
Adams was still trying to get Dr. Klosky's pants off even as Ham looked
on. And he screamed so well...
Most of the transformations weren't so ordinary. He hadn't made
anything particularly dangerous, yet. No dragons or such. A great many
creatures of mixed species: centaurs, Harpies, ah, the variations were
nearly endless. Indeed there were many more ideas yet to be tried, he had
simply run out of subjects!
And then there was Don. Would he show or not?
Don had worked his way through the outer perimeter unobserved, he
hoped. With all the strange creatures he had seen, and some of them were
in the air, it seemed impossible that nothing had seen him. Yet no cry of
alarm had gone out that Don had detected. The transmutational field which
Ham was using appeared to be blind to Don. For what ever reason, this
single fact was all that he had in his favor.
Apparently the electronic sensors on the second perimeter were no
longer functional; Don was getting anxious too easy. He stopped to
consider his next challenge. Crossing the compound looked impossible.
Creatures every where and no place to hide. A man could be heard screaming
off to the left. Don decided: Down. A series of tunnels ran the length of
the complex. That was the good news.
Don had a tendency to get claustrophobic anyway. But here he had a
legitimate excuse. Under the best of conditions, the dark passage way was
a tight fit. At juncture points, nearly impossible. He had traveled
almost 90 percent of the distance only to have to return to the start
point, where he took off his clothes before trying again.
Covered in filth, with his naked body cut and bruised, Don finally
reached the end of this leg of the journey. Pushing aside the grate, he
carefully pulled himself into the maintenance building. Stumbling forward,
he surged into a loping run. Little more than 200 feet away was the door
to the pump facility.
"Don!" Ham's voice rang out harshly. "So you ARE here!"
Ham's voice sounded almost pleased. A fact that wouldn't last
long...as soon as he discovered Don's goal... Even in his present
condition, Don could see that he would get to the pump facility first. Ham
couldn't stop him now and there was no time for the man to work his miracle
at a terminal there was no terminal here. He yelled over his shoulder,
"THE CRAY WILL DIE!"
Hamilton Thorn abruptly terminated his pursuit. "Don. Let's be
reasonable. Have I not been good to you? Why risk everything to hurt me
now Don?"
Don slowed, but did not stop. "Ham, your power will die with the
Cray. You have to be stopped. No one should have that much power."
Ham, his voice having taken on a soothing tone like one might use with
a child, said, "Don, Don, Don," he pleaded, "will you give up your manhood
to stop me? There is a field in that room that will NOT respect your
identity. And I promise you that this change will be forever. Come to
your senses and we can share power."
Don paused at the pump facility door to consider his options. And
then, resolutely, he squared his manly shoulders and entered. He locked
the chamber door behind him. Now he could NOT be stopped!
With his first stride toward the master shut off, he felt his body
quiver. He looked down and all was there that should be there. But his
limbs were hairless and the hair around his groin followed a feminine
distribution. No! He would not stop. He remembered Brian destroyed.
Another stride and he could feel his bone and muscles changing. He
held his hands up before his face as he reached up toward the suddenly
higher switch place. Slender, feminine hands, soft and fragile hung there
white against the dark for a moment. As the lever descended and the sounds
of the pumps died away and Don knew that the Cray would die, the last
vestige of his manhood disappeared. Don swooned.
Don woke up in his own bed back at Laguna Beach. The mirror above
him reflected back his image, the same one that he had seen for most of the
last three years. The beautiful golden-red hair splayed out across the
silk forest green sheets and Ham entered.
"Look long and hard, my lovely. And abandon all hope for as long as I
will it, this IS the way you will remain. You never had a chance, you
know. The transfer of command from the Cray to me personally had been
completed hours before you arrived."
"But why..?
"I wanted to test you. To understand your make up."
"But still, why?"
"To see if you were worthy of being my companion, my lovely. That and
nothing else."
"And?" Interrupted Don.
"And you are my sweet... Dawn!"
The Beginning