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TRADING.TXT

Trading Places

by JimB

Phoenix, AZ

Flyleaf

Santa Fe, New Mexico, Land of Enchantment. Doug Trends and Lisa Kahr,
young and engaged career professionals, embark on an unworldly voyage
of mysticism, sexuality, and legend. They are caught up in a
whirlwind of sexuality, bizarre physical changes, and unlikely
characters. Relentlessly and helplessly, they must pursue a destiny
beyond their choosing and comprehension.

Doug Trents is a young unmarried marketing representative with a
Midwestern engineering firm. He is sincere, dedicated, and
conservative. His fiancee, Lisa Kahr, is successful in her own
business but enjoys being compulsive and free-spirited. Neither is
prepared for their role as unwitting guides to a myriad of fellow
travelers caught up in the same amazing adventure. An ancient Indian,
a doctor turned piercing artist, a dominatrix, and two patent-rich
engineers are just a few of the many surprising characters involved in
a complex interplay of mystic forces.

Join Doug and Lisa in their quest toward a culmination unknown to them
yet etched in their destinies. Join them in Trading Places.

This is an unfinished and unpublished work of fiction protected by
copyright declaration. License is granted for unlimited electronic
distribution provided no fee is charged (except to cover distribution
costs such as disk duplication, file transfer connect time, and
postage). All other rights reserved. The entire text must be
transmitted exactly as received. Changes, extracts, or condensations
of any kind are prohibited. Any other use of the content, characters,
or concepts is strictly prohibited. Mass publication and distribution
for profit are each strictly prohibited without written permission
from the author.

Foreword

The story of Trading Places has no basis in fact and any resemblance
to real persons or events is coincidental. Trading Places is not
intended for persons under eighteen years of age.

The author suggests using a text browser (such as Vernon Buerg's
excellent LIST program) for on-screen reading. Use line or chapter
numbers to restore your position after interruptions. For printed
copies, double-column back-to-back printing is suggested. The 4PRINT
program (by Korenthal Associates, Inc.) has excellent facilities for
this. Both LIST and 4PRINT are shareware programs available on most
PC bulletin board systems.

Comments and suggestions may be sent to the address given in the
copyright declaration. Even a nice postcard would be appreciated.
All such material will become the property of the author. No names
will be used without permission, and requests for confidentiality will
be honored. Printed copies of Trading Places may be purchased for
$10.00 printing and postage.

This is the author's first attempt at book-length fiction. He
received a Bachelor's degree in Computer Science from Purdue
University in 1971 and a Masters in Business Administration from
Arizona State University. A three year stint in the Army was followed
by twenty-one years experience as a computer professional. Authorship
spanned six months. In terms of finished lines per hour, novel
writing and programming turned out to be remarkably similar in effort.
Enjoy.

Characters

Main Characters

Doug Trents A young, single marketing representative for
Quixotic Designs. Engaged to Lisa Kahr.

Lisa Kahr Half owner of Fit & Trim Salon, a women's
workout shop in Stratford Estates, Illinois.
Engaged to Doug Trents.

Principal Characters

Claude Storm An old man who sells Indian jewelry at a
wilderness station near Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Husband of Renee Storm.

Renee Storm Wife of Claude Storm.

Bonnie Banks Works as a barmaid at The Open Palms Hotel.
Previously known as Barney Banks, but is
undergoing a sex change. Receives large
royalties from an invention patented by
Clipper Strand and himself. Sibling of Robin
Banks.

Robin Banks A lawyer specializing in gender reassignment
and defense of alternative lifestyles. Also
undergoing a personal sex change. Sibling of
Bonnie Banks.

Spike Pearson A doctor who practiced general surgery for
twelve years then quit because of stress.
Now operates a pierced jewelry shop called
Piercing Scream with his wife, Pokey.

Pokey Pearson Formerly a school nurse. Married Spike
Pearson and now helps run Piercing Scream,
their pierced jewelry shop. Enjoys being
heavily pierced and tattooed.

Clipper Strand Operates a hair styling parlor named Tress &
Less with his wife, Smooth. Receives large
royalties from an invention patented by
Bonnie Banks and himself. Wears his hair
very long to please his wife.

Smooth Strand Operates Tress & Less with her husband,
Clipper. Totally hairless because of a
genetic trait.

Supporting Characters

Ada Kamp Research assistant to Allen Damihnd. Widely
traveled for archeology and anthropology
research. Tall, large boned, in excellent
shape. Lesbian.

Allen Damihnd, Dr. A college professor in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Well-known author and philosopher. Expert in
Native American culture, physical
manifestations of meditation, and out of body
experiences.

Betty Tiquette With her husband Landry, operates two hair
styling salons and a tanning parlor in San
Diego. Priscilla Strate's cousin.

Calico Falina A waitress at Charming Beau Quay, a
restaurant on Pier 41 in San Francisco. Wife
of Tiger Falina.

Carla Slied A nature photographer who teams with Hal
O'Graff. Enjoys pierced jewelry and tattoos.

Cynthia Hartmoore Stanford MBA graduate who serves as treasurer
and chief accountant for all properties
controlled by the Pearsons, Strands, and
Banks. Lives at the Pearson & Strand estate
in exchange for providing maid service. A
black woman of Jamaican descent.

Dan Tweedle Graduate student at University of California
at Berkeley. Lives at the Pearson & Strand
estate in exchange for cooking services.
Brother of Dee Tweedle.

Dawn Slied Carla Slied's mother. Tends bar at the
family business in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Dee Tweedle Graduate student at University of California
at Berkeley. Lives at the Pearson & Strand
estate in exchange for cooking services.
Sister of Dan Tweedle.

Dotty Lyon A marketing representative for InstaFlo, a
flexible world-class electronics
manufacturer.

Hal O'Graff A nature photographer who teams with Carla
Slied. Enjoys pierced jewelry and tattoos.

Hank Caropi Pokey Pearson's nephew. Lives and does odd
jobs at the Pearson & Strand estate while
trying to break into professional body
building. Bisexual.

Katie Kahr Mother of Lisa Kahr and wife of Victor Kahr.

Landry Tiquette With his wife Betty, operates two hair
styling salons and a tanning parlor in San
Diego.

Len Slied Carla Slied's father. Runs an obscure bar in
Santa Fe, New Mexico. Operates a tattoo
parlor in the back room.

Marble Strand Fourteen year old daughter of Clipper and
Smooth Strand. Totally hairless because of a
genetic trait.

Mbuno Bwanaba A six foot eight inch African submissive
male. He is Sid Missouf's secretary and Sue
Missouf's sex slave.

Mera Thonn Lisa Kahr's partner in Fit & Trim Salon.
Currently dating Waylon Bellomore.

Phylen Tipe Secretary for Doug Trents. Employed by
Quixotic Designs. Currently dating Trace
Surkit.

Priscilla Strate A research librarian at the San Francisco
main public library. Recently divorced by
her husband because of boring sex. Now
assertive, she controls her boss, Sid
Missouf, as a sex slave.

Saul Bohnes, M.D. A physician practicing in Santa Fe, New
Mexico.

Shag Strand Ten year old son of Clipper and Smooth
Strand. Wears his hair very long to please
his mother.

Sid Missouf A section manager at the San Francisco main
public library. Priscilla Strate's boss.
Sue Missouf's husband. Craves submission.

Sue Missouf Sid Missouf's wife. A dominatrix; her
leather-clad instructors use riding crops to
instill sensitivity on submissive men. A
successful business woman.

Tiger Falina Owner of a jewelry store in La Cloma,
California. Calico Falina's husband.

Trace Surkit An electronic design engineer. Currently
dating Phylen Tipe. Initially worked in
Illinois but is now being transferred to San
Jose, California.

Victor Kahr Father of Lisa Kahr. Started a successful
business after graduating from college but is
ready to sell out and pursue new
opportunities.

Wanda Bohnes Wife of Saul Bohnes. Serves as nurse and
receptionist at Saul's practice.

Waylon Bellomore A tax accountant and Mera Thonn's current
heart throb.

Minor Characters

Ace Deesi A bisexual spouse-swapper. Wife of DiDi
Deesi.

Andrea Shortz Wife of Dick Shortz. Helps run Any Bodies, a
shop in Essence Alley which sells lingerie
and men's underwear in men's and women's
sizes.

Andy Huandia X-ray technician at Saul Bohnes's medical
office.

Andy Reghatti Owner and operator of Fitting Touch, a
clothing store in Essence Alley for straight,
transsexual, and transvestite men and women.
Husband of Ann Reghatti.

Anita Sanchez A customer at Tress & Less seeking to
overcome her Mexican peasant girl image.
Sells men's shoes.

Ann Reghatti Wife of Andy Reghatti. Helps run Fitting
Touch, a clothing store in Essence Alley for
straight, transsexual, and transvestite men
and women.

Ann Tueld Owner and operator of Ann's Hides, a leather
clothing, accessory, and shoe store in
Essence Alley.

Ariel Whispe A receptionist at Quixotic Designs.

Art Emadge An artist who works at Skin Deep, a tattoo
parlor in Essence Alley.

Beryl Woodsman An aerobics student at Fit & Trim Salon.
Runs a diner in Stratford Estates with her
cousins Lori and Beryl.

Beryl Woodsman An aerobics student at Fit & Trim Salon.
Runs a diner in Stratford Estates with her
cousins Beryl and Lori.

Boris The manager at Cho Pynn Bou Qit, a French
restaurant in San Carlos. He is Vietnamese.

Brendon Snappe Robin Bank's part-time minority legal
partner.

Bull A bald door guard who works weekends at Cho
Pynn Bou Qit, a French restaurant in San
Carlos. His nickname is Bullwinkle.

Buzzy Scetts An artist who works at Skin Deep, a tattoo
parlor in Essence Alley.

Cal Urskiem Owner and operator of About Face, a cosmetics
shop in Essence Alley.

Cemi Glaus The receptionist at Fulton's Follicle.

Chip Bildehr Plant Manager at MicroMind, a semiconductor
firm located in San Carlos, California.

Dick Shortz Owner and operator of Any Bodies, a shop in
Essence Alley which sells lingerie and men's
underwear in men's and women's sizes.
Husband of Andrea Shortz.

DiDi Deesi A bisexual spouse-swapper. Wife of Ace
Deesi.

Drew Picshire Owner and operator of Skin Deep, a tattoo
parlor in Essence Alley.

Drubla Tribeula A tribal doctor and expert on African
customs. Hired by Cynthia Hartmoore to
decorate her body.

Eddy Gismeau A medical equipment consultant in San
Francisco. His company is called Physotics,
Incorporated.

Emmie A dinner waitress at The Fish Bucket, a
restaurant in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Eric Tower Owner and Chief Executive Officer of Quixotic
Designs, an engineering firm in Stratford
Estates, Illinois. Husband of Ivana Tower.
Fraternal twin brother of Erica Shaw.

Erica Shaw Fraternal twin sister of Eric Tower.

Felicity Peese Nicknamed "Feelie." A receptionist hired to
work at Fit & Trim Salon.

Felix T. Katze Headwaiter at Charming Beau Quay, a
restaurant on Pier 41 in San Francisco.

Georgie Legal assistant to Robin Banks. Of
indeterminate gender.

Ginny Bohrdweihst Wife of Walt Bohrdweihst.

Gretta Huandor Wife of Lester Huandor.

Havka A tattooed waitress at Chain Ring Bouquet, a
restaurant in Essence Alley.

Houlaimie The clothes check girl at Charming Beau Quay,
a restaurant on Pier 41 in San Francisco.

Imi Yamakuti The receptionist at Tress & Less, the hair
styling salon operated by Clipper and Smooth
Strand.

Isadora Opino A newly affected guest at The Open Palms
Hotel. Subject of the CosmaTech marketing
demonstration.

Ivana Tower Wife of Eric Tower.

Ken Bahn A process engineer at InstaFlo. Expert in
rapid, low cost electronics manufacturing.

Lee Beigal A law professor and occasional courtroom
attorney for the University of California at
Berkeley.

Lester Huandor Park superintendent of the wilderness area
containing the pyramid cavern. Husband of
Gretta Huandor.

Lori Woodsman An aerobics student at Fit & Trim Salon.
Runs a diner in Stratford Estates with her
cousins Beryl and Beryl.

Mabel A waitress at The Munching Basket, a diner in
San Mateo, California.

Maddie Ecseau Executive assistant to Eric Tower at Quixotic
Designs.

Maika Leese A commercial leasing agent in San Francisco.

Mark Atsart Manager of Measurements and Quality Assurance
at MicroMind, a semiconductor firm located in
San Carlos, California.

Marty Hong Well-equipped boyfriend of Tina Tates.

Natasha The hostess at Cho Pynn Bou Qit, a French
restaurant in San Carlos. She is Vietnamese.

Oscar Handsome headwaiter at The Fish Bucket, a
restaurant in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Otis Liphte An expert on antique elevators. He works for
Classic Elevator Works in San Francisco.

Packey Slappe A producer of fake plaster casts used to
influence juries in personal injury lawsuits.

Patsy Rapherie A court judge in San Francisco, California.

Perry Shaw Erica Shaw's husband. Eric Tower's brother-
in-law.

Peter Slicer Bonnie Banks's physician. Practices in La
Cloma, California.

Phoata Flasche An artist who works at Skin Deep, a tattoo
parlor in Essence Alley.

Plug Krankum A mathematical genius and business partner of
Victor Kahr. Developed the theoretical basis
for their main product.

Qubie Full name John Q. Bickle. An office
architect and remodeling general contractor
in San Francisco.

Ray Surtz, Dr. A professional colleague of Allen Damihnd.

Roberta Fulton Wife of Zach Fulton. Helps run Fulton's
Follicle, a waxing and electrolysis shop in
Essence Alley.

Rocky A waitress at Cho Pynn Bou Qit, a French
restaurant in San Carlos. She is the third
Roxanne hired by the restaurant ; her full
nickname is Rocky III.

Ron Smuthe Assistant production manager at MicroMind, a
semiconductor firm located in San Carlos,
California.

Sandy Beitsch A public accountant in San Francisco. Wife
of Whitey Beitsch. An old friend of Calico
Falina.

Seymour Hemlein A tailor at Fitting Touch, a clothing store
in Essence Alley for straight, transsexual,
and transvestite men and women.

Theda Loupe A heavily-pierced customer at Piercing
Scream. Works as a dental hygienist.

Tina Tates Substitute fitness instructor at Fit & Trim
Salon.

Toni A thin, blonde cocktail waitress at The Fish
Bucket, a restaurant in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Walt Bohrdweihst A fitness center designer and contractor in
San Francisco. Husband of Ginny Bohrdweihst

Whitey Beitsch A public accountant in San Francisco.
Husband of Sandy Beitsch. An old friend of
Calico Falina.

Zach Fulton Owner and operator of Fulton's Follicle, a
waxing and electrolysis shop in Essence
Alley. Husband of Roberta Fulton.

Zelda Manager of The Munching Basket, a diner in
San Mateo, California.

Zoe The concierge at The Open Palms Hotel.

Essence Alley

(ground level)

(Proper display or printout of this drawing
requires the IBM PC-8 character set.)

The Pearson & Strand Estate

(road)
.=|-gate-|=========================================.
|* -service-road- | N
| * .---------------------------------. | /|\
|* |\ \-----\ .--------------------. | | |
| * | \ /---\ ` | Pearsons | | | W--+--E
|* | | | o | . | .---------------' | | |
| * | | \---/ | | | .------. .-----.| | S
|* | \--. .--/ `----' |######| | || |
| * | .---------------. |#Pool#| | Ten-|| |
(neigh-) |* | | Strands | |######| +-----+| | ( vacant )
(boring) | * | | .----------' |######| | nis || | (property)
(estate) |* | | | `------' | || |
| * | | | *** ---patio `-----'| |
|* | `----' * deck--- | |
| * *.-------------.** | |
|* *| Guest House |* * * * * * o | |
| * *`-------------'*.----------. o o | |
|* ** *|* *|Motor Home| o o o | |
| * *****************' Parking `---------' |
|* -service-road- |
`=================================================='

(vacant property)

(Proper display or printout of this drawing
requires the IBM PC-8 character set.)

Trading Places

by JimB

Phoenix, AZ

Chapter 1. Arrival Friday, Week 1

My name is Doug Trents and my life will never be the same. An
innocent vacation in New Mexico led to a bizarre series of events that
permanently altered my life. Looking back, no one is to blame but I
sincerely wish I had those days to live over.

I was a marketing representative for Quixotic Designs, an engineering
firm located just west of Chicago in Stratford Estates, Illinois. My
boss, Eric Tower, had assigned me consecutive week-long projects in
Albuquerque and San Francisco. Between these assignments, I planned
to spend a three day weekend vacationing in Santa Fe with my fiancee,
Lisa Kahr.

It was late April and we were both tired of cold, damp, dismal
weather. An adventure in the Southwest seemed the perfect break.
Lisa had a more than a passing interest in Native American culture and
New Age philosophy; Santa Fe seemed like a great place to explore
both. After our mini-vacation, Lisa planned to spend a few days with
her mother in Houston.

Lisa owns half interest in Fit & Trim Salons, a women's workout shop.
At the time, she instructed many of the classes. In our own way, we
each depended on the camaraderie of exercise to build our careers. I
closed more deals on golf courts and tennis courses than in the
office, and played both games regularly. Although I kept in playing
shape, Lisa had me beat in the fitness department. We'd known each
other several years and decided to get married just a few months
earlier.

I met Lisa Friday night at Albuquerque International Airport. I was
aroused from the moment she stepped off the plane. As always, her
figure was sensational, without an ounce of fat anywhere. Her tits
were high and firm in a pert sort of way that fit the rest of her body
perfectly. She was incredibly fit, with well-defined muscles in her
thighs and back. Constant workouts kept her butt small and firm. Her
naturally blonde hair was cut short and punky. I knew she kept her
pussy hair trimmed very short so it wouldn't protrude from the briefs
and leotards she wore all day.

That evening she wore a waist length suede jacket, matching boots, a
belt, and white full-body sweat tights. Her shapely butt and thighs
were perfectly defined and the dome of her mons was distinctly
visible. I often kidded her about wearing less at work than she did
on dates with me, but that Friday night was an exception. We kissed
and I could tell the arousal was mutual.

"Did you check your bag?" I asked her.

"No, as usual, I'm traveling light," Lisa replied. She had only a
large gym bag and her purse.

Oh well, I thought, if she didn't plan on wearing much, that was fine
with me. I led the way to my rental car, then we ate a quick dinner
at Denny's. Santa Fe was a ninety minute drive up Interstate 25. We
checked into a hotel named The Gateway Lodge and immediately flopped
into bed. Lisa's gym bag didn't have room to pack a nightie. It was
good.

Chapter 2. The Cavern Saturday, Week 1

It was even better in the morning, since we were no longer tired from
traveling. Lisa woke me as she was using the bathroom but soon the
room grew quiet. Suspecting something, I got up and looked through
the open bathroom door. She was standing naked, holding my razor, and
grinning. "Hi there, big boy," she greeted me, eyeing my crotch.
"Care to clean my snatch?"

I loved shaving her pussy but seldom got the chance; the inevitable
stubble irritated her during aerobics. With ten days of vacation
ahead, that wouldn't be a problem. Lisa put a towel on the vanity and
sat while I tenderly lathered her up and shaved her down. We showered
together and Lisa sucked my cock dry as the water fell around us.
Later, we fell on the bed dripping wet and I ate her smooth pussy as
we dried. Sex with Lisa is never dull.

We ate breakfast in the Gateway Lodge coffee shop and looked through a
tourist guide I'd bought. Because of Lisa's interest in Native
American culture, we decided to visit a wilderness area in the Sangre
de Cristo range west of town. Lisa wore baggy hiking shorts, a tank
top, and Nike running shoes. I had jeans, a safari shirt, and
Rebocks. Following the map in the guide, we arrived at the visitor
center at ten o'clock. I bought a hiking guide and we began our
exploration. The trail was rocky but we had good shoes and no
problems. There were many intriguing, unmarked side trails but the
hiking guide warned us to keep on the marked path.

One side trail looked particularly interesting. It led through some
brush toward a rocky crevice that surely had an opening to somewhere;
otherwise, why would there be a path?

"Let's try it!" suggested Lisa, and we did. It seemed harmless and no
one else was in sight.

The path followed the crevice through several turns and came to a dead
end. I was ready to turn back until Lisa discovered a series of
square holes chipped into the rock. They seemed very old but were
perfectly sized for climbing. No one could see us inside the crevice
so we scaled the wall. Lisa went first and I could see right up her
baggy shorts.

"Cotton panties!" I teased, "What a spoil sport!"

"You animal!" she answered. "You don't know what a spoil sport is
until your fiancee gets her pussy rubbed raw!"

At the top of the climb we discovered a cave opening. "I don't know,"
said Lisa, "maybe we've come far enough. There could be snakes or
scorpions inside."

"Let me have a look," I said. Getting down on all fours, I could see
a dim light inside and no critters. "Let's go," I suggested. "If one
of us gets hurt, the other will get help."

The inside of the cavern was astounding. It was hollowed out in the
shape of a pyramid and lit by a single chimney through which the sky
was visible. The chimney was narrow and steeply angled, so the sun
would almost never shine directly in. In the center of the room was
some sort of altar; it had been left in place as the rock around it
was chipped away.

"Doug, look at this," called Lisa, pointing to some paintings on the
wall. Each picture showed people having sex in one way or another,
and there were several dozen paintings in the lit portion of the wall
alone. The variety of positions and techniques was mind-boggling but
there was one common element: each sex act was performed on the altar
in the center of the cavern.

"What do you suppose it means?" I asked Lisa.

"This room must have been used for some kind of sex ritual, don't you
think?" she replied.

"I don't know, but let's get going. I need some lunch."

We crawled out of the cavern and I went down first. When Lisa stepped
down next to me she said "You go on ahead. I need to pee." "Women!"
I thought, and went ahead. When Lisa came out, she handed me her
panties. I put them in my pocket.

As we continued on the main trail, Lisa seemed preoccupied. Back at
the visitor center she asked the counter clerk about the pyramid
cavern and received a very cold stare in return. "What's the matter?"
asked Lisa. The clerk said nothing for quite a while and finally
suggested we find an old man selling jewelry outside. After that, the
clerk went into a back room.

Outside about a dozen people were selling jewelry spread out on
blankets. We walked among them and looked at the merchandise until
Lisa pulled me aside. "Doug," she said, "this man's jewelry has the
same figures I saw on the wall!".

"OK," I whispered, "but let's be indirect. The counter clerk got
awfully touchy."

Lisa approached the jewelry seller. "Hello! I like your jewelry,
especially the figures," she said. "Where do you get the
inspiration?"

"These figures are very old," he said. "They were first drawn many
years ago by my ancestors, who were rebels among their tribe. They
had many powers which are now hidden. The pieces are made in pairs;
one for the man and one for the woman. Which do you like?"

Lisa looked over the pieces and selected a pair of necklaces. They
were very well crafted of silver and turquoise. Each had a medallion
with a male figure on one side and female on the other. "Why not?"
she asked.

"How much?" I responded, and the old man answered, "Five hundred
dollars." This seemed like a lot, I didn't have the cash, and I
doubted that a sidewalk seller would take American Express.

"OK," said the old man, "you can have them for fifty today and two
fifty tomorrow. I believe you will return." I paid the fifty bucks,
Lisa and I donned our necklaces, and off we went. I was sure we'd
never be back.

Back in town we found a tourist district filled with boutiques and
outdoor cafes. There were numerous little streets and courtyards
lined with adobe buildings. It was already two o'clock and I needed
lunch. We selected an old Mexican cafe located in an outdoor
courtyard and found a pleasant table shaded by a Corona beer umbrella.
I bought two enchiladas and a beer; Lisa had cottage cheese and a
Perrier. After eating, we wandered around the shops but didn't buy
anything. At five o'clock we were ready to go. Lisa had a gleam in
her eye.

"It's too early for dinner, and anyway, we just ate," she said. "Want
to mess around?"

Then, as now, Lisa knew how to get my attention. "Sure," I said,
"anywhere you like. Got a preference?"

She did. "How about the pyramid cavern?"

It seemed crazy, but sometimes you just go with the flow. I bought an
Indian blanket and a flashlight at one of the shops and we drove back
to the Gateway Lodge. Lisa put on some jeans and we both took our
jackets.

Chapter 3. The Trade

It was dusk as we headed out to the wilderness. The ranger was just
closing the gates as we arrived so I drove past and circled back ten
minutes later. By then, the place seemed deserted. I parked on the
road, a little past the gate. It was getting dark as I took out the
flashlight and blanket.

We hopped the fence and walked past the visitor center. No one was
left except the old man who had sold us the necklaces. He took no
notice of us. By this time there was no sunlight at all but a full
moon lit our way. We found our way back to the crevice, climbed to
the cavern entrance, and went in.

"You're sure about this, right?" I asked.

"Absolutely," Lisa replied, stepping out of her jeans. She pulled off
her tank top and bra as I spread the blanket on the altar. I dropped
my jeans and threw my shirt on top of them. We both kept our
necklaces on. The full moon was perfectly positioned to shine down
the narrow chimney and I turned off the flashlight. Our bodies were
very familiar anyway.

Lisa reclined on the altar and beckoned me with her arms. I knelt
over her and we kissed passionately. She pressed her fingers into my
back as I rubbed my chest and loins against her. A draft started
coming down the chimney but we were too preoccupied to care. I
pressed Lisa's nipples between my lips and she moaned with pleasure.
My cock could feel her hairless mound on one side and my bush on the
other. The sexual paintings were dimly visible on the wall. Never
was there a more exotic setting for sex. I put my cock inside Lisa
and we began to grind. It was great. The moon moved right over the
chimney so the cavern was filled with an eerie light. Our silver
necklaces clanged together. We came at the same time, both shouting
in ecstasy. It was probably the best sex we'd ever had. Exhausted,
we pulled apart and I felt the strangest sensation of my life.

I felt my cock slipping out of me.

Chapter 4. Shock Reaction

At first I had no idea what happened but I knew something was very
wrong. I stepped off the altar, looked at my crotch, and saw the
outline of Lisa's shaved pussy. "This is impossible," I thought, and
searched for the flashlight. I was sure my eyes were playing tricks
on me in the dim light but there was no such luck. Pointing the
flashlight at my crotch revealed a shaved pussy that looked exactly
like Lisa's.

"This can't be!" Lisa exclaimed. "Give me the light." A moment
later, I found out where my cock had gone. Lisa had it between her
legs. We both stood looking at ourselves and each other in complete
shock. This had to be a bad dream!

I touched my groin. Air. Lisa moved to touch her crotch and poked
her fingernail right into my cock. "Ouch! Turn out that damn light,
will you?" she screamed.

We stood silently for five or ten minutes, each coping with our
emotions. I touched myself a couple of times and felt nothing but a
shaved pussy. Lisa must have done the same, feeling cock and balls.
Finally, her breathing seemed to slow down.

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

"I want to get back to normal," Lisa replied.

"Can you suggest how?"

I could hear Lisa shaking as she thought. "Lets get out of here," she
said after a moment.

"I don't know, but maybe if we did it again we'd change back," I
suggested.

"Sex, sex, that's all you think about," Lisa cried.

I could tell she wasn't in the mood; in addition, the temperature was
dropping rapidly. "Well, maybe everything will be normal after we get
back to the hotel," I suggested. "Let's get dressed and get out of
here."

I pulled on my jeans, shirt, and jacket. My mind sensed the lack of
cloth against my cock and balls and my hand felt an empty pouch. When
the jeans did touch my crotch, the feeling was sore and raw. Just
walking had a different sensation.

Lisa had another problem; pulling up her skin tight women's jeans gave
her a pain in my nuts. "How am I supposed to walk back to the car?"
she moaned. Finally, she left the zipper mostly undone and the waist
band half way down her hips. "Let's go," she said.

Lisa had a real problem getting down the rock stairway with her jeans
half off. She jumped the last four feet and I had to catch her. We
hobbled back to the car and headed back to town.

There was no way Lisa could walk through the Gateway Lodge with her
jeans unzipped and covering only half her butt. My Western belt was
too wide for her jeans so I went inside and got a belt from my suit
pants. We left Lisa's waist length jacket in the car and she wore
mine through the lobby. She had to walk in baby steps but it was late
and almost no one saw her. Those who did probably thought she was
cold. As soon as we entered room Lisa ran into the bathroom.

I saw Lisa's jeans fly out the bathroom door and expected to hear the
sound of pissing, but there was nothing. After a minute, Lisa called
out, "OK, how do you work this thing?"

"You push down on the little metal handle," I answered, but Lisa only
got angry.

"No, this damned cock of yours," she said. I looked through the open
door and found her standing in front of the toilet with the seat up.
"It feels like I have to pee but nothing comes out," she said. I
grinned, remembering what it was like being five years old and
learning to stand and piss.

"Uh, let your groin relax even though your legs are taught," I
suggested. Lisa went through a series of silly looking facial
expressions but finally managed to shoot a stream into the bowl.

"This isn't all its cracked up to be," she commented. "Now what do I
do?"

"Shake it off," I suggested, and she jabbed my cock with her
fingernail.

"Ouch! This damn thing sticks out too far!" she exclaimed.

"You never complained before," I noted. It would have been a sin to
let that line pass.

Lisa left the bathroom, sat on the edge of the bed, and crossed her
thighs. This brought an immediate scowl and she moved her knees
apart. "I can't even sit right," she complained. "Doug, what are we
going to do? This can't be real; we're freaks like this! How can I
stand in front of twenty women with a cock showing through my leotard?
How can I use a locker room? How can I go swimming? I can't wear
jeans, shorts, swimsuits, leotards, or other stuff I haven't even
thought of!" She was getting really agitated. "What are we going to
do?"

The mention of locker rooms hit me like a brick wall. How could I
take a client out for tennis or golf without revealing myself in the
showers? No one would sign a deal with a "sexually altered" sales
rep, and that's exactly what they'd think I was. Anyway, I wanted the
equipment I'd been born with.

We sat thinking on opposite corners of the bed for quite a while.
Finally, my back got tired and I lay back. So did Lisa, and our hands
touched.

"I guess we're really made for each other now," she quipped, and I was
glad she seemed to be relaxing.

"I suppose you're right," I said. "I can't think of another woman I'd
want to go to bed with right now."

Lisa giggled and said, "My goodness, you're right." I looked over and
saw my cock standing straight up.

"Lisa, this is pretty weird," I said. "I'd have to be gay or
something to get excited at the sight of an erect cock." Lisa rolled
over, put her face in the pillow, and recoiled in pain. She rolled
onto her side, pushed my cock out of the way, and then rolled back on
her stomach.

"Damn it, Doug, I could use a little understanding," she complained.
I rolled over and hugged her from behind.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I guess we're both very confused."

I stood and put the covers over Lisa, then began undressing. I kept
my jeans on until the last, then walked into the bathroom. Pissing
wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be; I had to shit anyway so I
just sat down and did it all without looking. Brushing my teeth was
worse because it involved facing the mirror. My reflection really
shocked and depressed me. All I could think was, "I've been
mutilated."

I shut off the light and went back to the bedroom. Lisa was on her
back with her knees raised under the covers. She looked normal and
sexy as I got into bed beside her and turned off the light. Her hand
found mine. "You know, I've always wondered what you felt when I
stroked your cock," she said. "Did you ever wonder what I felt?"

"Yeah, I suppose I did. Why?" I asked.

"I'd like you to massage my pussy now," she replied.

When I asked her to do it for me, Lisa answered, "My hands are busy."

The touch of Lisa's bare pussy was familiar to my hand but I wasn't
prepared for the other sensations. It felt as if I had an erection
but with slime all over my balls and asshole. My body tensed and my
breathing deepened. Lisa was breathing hard too, and gripped my hand
tightly.

"This can't be real," she said.

"I can't believe it either," I replied, spreading pussy juice onto her
clitoris. Finally, Lisa tensed her back and bucked three or four
times. A minute later, I followed her. We kept holding hands as we
fell asleep.

"Damn, I hate wet sheets," said Lisa.

Chapter 5. Adjustments Sunday, Week 1

Sunday morning I woke first. I didn't feel like going into the
bathroom and facing the mirror again but necessity prevailed. I did
the job quickly without turning on the light. Lisa woke when I
returned and took longer in the bathroom. Upon returning, we both
slid under the safety of the covers.

"What do you want to do?" asked Lisa.

I thought about it and answered, "Well, I think we should find that
old man who sold us the necklaces. He may know something that would
help us. Right now, I need some breakfast."

"Well, I'm in no shape to go out," Lisa said. "See if they have room
service."

I dialed the room service number listed on the phone and ordered
coffee, muffins, and a fruit plate. We waited in bed until the
delivery came. The waiter didn't react at all to seeing us in bed
with the covers pulled up. "I'll bet he thinks he's seen it all," I
thought. We ate and then faced the challenge of getting dressed.

Lisa dumped out her gym bag. Altogether, she'd brought a western
blouse, two tank tops, a pair of sweat tights, some high cut baggy
shorts, some biker shorts, a pair of tight women's jeans, a bikini
swim suit, and some underwear. "Nothing here will hide my problem,"
observed Lisa. She tried putting on panties but either they wouldn't
stay up or they hurt. The tights seemed OK except for the bulge of my
cock and balls.

"Do you have anything huge I could wear over these?" Lisa asked. I
found a colored T-shirt that hung from her shoulders to her knees.

"I guess this will have to do for now," she said.

"Still, you'll be needing some different clothes," I observed.

We both put our Indian necklaces on and I dressed in khaki shorts and
a safari shirt. As we passed through the lobby, Lisa had to visit the
ladies' room. When we got in the car, she pulled up the T-shirt and
stuck her hand in the tights.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know," I teased. Lisa glared back at
me.

"Your cock keeps getting out of place and hurting me," she complained.
"Do have any suggestions?"

I could only suggest getting some men's underwear. Lisa was quiet for
a few minutes and then stuck her hand in her tights again.

"Well, I can't keep grabbing your cock all day," she said. "Let's
find a store."

I had to stop and buy gas anyway, so I asked the attendant for
directions to a shopping mall. We parked outside a department store,
went inside, and found the men's department. Boxer shorts wouldn't
solve Lisa's problem and she couldn't stand the thought of wearing
standard cotton briefs. Finally, we found the fashion briefs and Lisa
selected two styles in a waist size that matched her hips. As I paid
the cashier, Lisa asked where the ladies' room was and then awkwardly
headed in that direction. Her odd walk would have been amusing except
for my own predicament. Lisa came out of the ladies' room in a hurry.

"Let's get going," she said. "I think somebody's going to call the
cops on me."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Some woman looked through the crack in the partitions and saw me
taking a piss," she answered. "Then I think she saw me pulling the
underpants over your cock. Let's go. I don't want some policewoman
strip-searching me just now."

We hurried out to the car and left the parking lot. "Let's find that
jewelry seller," Lisa suggested. I agreed and we headed out to the
wilderness area.

Chapter 6. Fact Finding

The old man was there, just as he'd been the day before. He
recognized us immediately and didn't seem surprised we had come.
"Welcome," he said. "What's new? Have you come to finish paying for
the necklaces?"

"We've come to learn more about them," I said. "What powers did your
ancestors have? What do you know about these powers today?"

"I think you know what powers," he replied. "They understood the
bonding of male and female. They prayed to the spirits and celebrated
rituals in a special cavern which I believe you have seen. Am I
correct?"

"We have seen the cavern and, yes, we have ... bonded," I answered.
"We've been changed and we want to get back to normal. Do you know
how?"

"I will help you in your search," said the old man, "but I must also
sell my jewelry. Would you like to finish paying for the necklaces
now?"

"I didn't bring the cash," I admitted, hoping for a break.

"Stop me when we have a match," he said. "Visa, Master Charge,
American Express, Discover, Diner's Club, ..."

"Visa," I broke in.

"OK, now I've sold my quota for today," said the old man. He gathered
up his merchandise and headed for the parking lot. We followed him to
a spacious motor home and sat in the lounge area. The old man took
out a credit card machine, imprinted my card, and gave me the slip to
sign.

"Thank you," he said. "Now, let's get acquainted. Then you can tell
me what happened and what you want to know. My name is Claude Storm."

"My name is Doug Trents and this is my fiancee, Lisa Kahr. You have a
delightful place," I said.

"Were you expecting a teepee in the desert?" Claude asked.

"No, I guess not," I answered. "We're from the Chicago area and
planned to spend the weekend sight seeing. We were hiking though the
wilderness when we noticed a side trail leading to an interesting
crevice. Inside the crevice we found a cavern which had been hollowed
into the shape of a pyramid. There were sexual drawings on the walls.
We came back after dusk and had sex on the cavern's central table."

"I understand," said Claude. "And how were you changed?"

I looked over at Lisa, unsure whether to reveal our secret. She
thought a minute, then blurted out, "Our sex organs have been
exchanged."

Claude stared back at both of us. "Lisa, are you telling me that you
have Doug's cock and he has your pussy?" Lisa nodded. "You are very
lucky," said Claude.

"Lucky!" I exclaimed. "Both our bodies are screwed up; we're sure to
be social outcasts if anyone finds out about it; and I feel mutilated.
How can that be lucky?"

"I will show you," said Claude, and he retreated into the back of the
motor home. We heard voices, and after a few minutes Claude returned
with a woman about his own age. She was wearing a surgical mask.
"This is my wife, Renee," said Claude. "We have also been in the
pyramid cavern. As you will see, Renee enjoyed giving me oral
pleasure. Renee, show my friends your face."

Lisa and I were transfixed when Renee Storm took off her mask. In
place of a mouth and chin she had Claude's cock and balls.

Chapter 7. Legend and Fact

"I will show you Renee's mouth, then you must show yourselves to us,"
said Claude. He dropped his pants and showed us Renee's mouth where
his cock should have been. The mouth opened, bared its teeth, closed,
and licked its lips.

I was sickened and fascinated at the same time. "Does it talk?" I
asked.

"There are no lungs to give it breath," said Claude. "Also, it does
not eat. I must spit my piss out of it; the taste is terrible. It
drools when I become aroused."

"What about you?" Lisa asked Renee.

Renee lifted her hands and began using sign language. Claude
interpreted, "I cannot speak without a mouth. I cannot be seen
without a mask. I can eat no solid food."

"How do you drink?" asked Lisa.

"I will show you," signed Renee. She went into the kitchen, poured
herself a small glass of milk, and poked Claude's cock into it. She
drained the glass then wiped Claude's cock with a paper napkin.

"Now, you must show us your changes," Claude ordered. My brain was
spinning but I stood up and dropped my shorts so Claude and Renee
could see Lisa's pussy. Lisa took off her tights and looked toward
Claude, hoping that the bulge in her men's underwear would satisfy
him. Claude gestured for her to continue, and she haltingly pulled
the underpants off my cock and balls.

Claude and Renee seemed more relieved than surprised. "You are indeed
lucky," said Claude.

"How can losing my cock be lucky?" I exclaimed.

"Well, you could have been changed up like Renee and me," Claude
responded. "Or, it could have been worse. Would you like to see
more?"

"I'm fairly upset now," I answered. "What do you have in mind?"

Claude got up and took a photo album off the shelf. "I keep a record
of each couple who will permit it," he said.

The album was a real freak show. Many of the couples were changed
like Lisa and me, but many others had apparently used every sexual
variation imaginable. There were several men with vaginas between
their nose and chin; their partners, like Claude, had mouths between
their legs. One woman had a hand growing out of her groin; the guy
had a pussy at the end of his arm stump. There was a two-photo
sequence that showed a woman with her pussy intact but a cock and
balls where her butt should have been; her husband had butts in front
and back. Claude said neither of them could sit in a chair. The
woman had to vomit instead of taking a shit.

"Did any of these people get changed back?" asked Lisa.

"No," said Claude. "Many have tried, but the changes only become more
extensive. One man with a pussy for a mouth convinced his wife to
return and try again. He returned with a belly button for a nose and
no eyes. His wife doesn't wear bare midriff anymore. I suggest you
never return to the pyramid cavern."

My mind was reeling and I didn't know what to think. "This is too
much to take. Can we put our clothes back on? Also, do you have
anything to drink?" I suggested. The dry air was getting to me; that
must have been it.

Claude asked Renee to get some beer and she left the room. "As for
getting dressed," he said, "I'd like to take your picture first. I'll
omit your faces, if you prefer. It will help others. Please?"

"What do you think?" I asked Lisa.

"Well, I guess it's OK if it will help others," she decided.

We removed the rest of our clothes and held hands as Claude took two
photos. As we dressed, Renee brought four bottles of beer, three
glasses, and a short wide beaker. My mouth began watering as Renee
handed me an open bottle. Claude's cock became erect as she poured
beer into the beaker. I know she didn't have a choice, but it was
disgusting to see her suck beer through Claude's cock. I decided I
was lucky to have Lisa's pussy in my lap rather than my face.

"Any more questions?" asked Claude.

"Lots," said Lisa. "For example, what happened to your pubic hair,
Claude? I don't see it on Renee or yourself."

"Renee must shave every day, as I do," answered Claude. "Otherwise,
the hair picks up the smell of whatever she drinks. Also, when she
goes outside, the hair gets hot and stuffy under her mask."

"How many others have there been?" I asked.

"There are twenty-seven couples in my album," Claude replied, "and
fourteen more who would not be photographed."

"Why don't you post signs to keep people away from that place?" Lisa
wondered.

"We tried, but the signs only attracted attention. We got as many
changes in a month as we got before in a year."

"Why not destroy the cavern?" I asked.

"It is a part of my heritage. Also, we hope to continue our research.
Perhaps there is a way to reverse the changes or use the power for
good," said Claude.

"Will there be any further changes if we don't go back to the cavern?"
Lisa asked.

"You should ask the doctor about that," said Claude. "I will give you
his name and number. If you call, he will make time for you."

Claude rummaged in a drawer, pulled out a scrap of paper, and copied
it. I read it aloud to Lisa: "Dr. Saul Bohnes, Paine Medical Plaza,
555-1001."

"Call first thing in the morning," said Claude. "Tell the
receptionist that you both need to see the doctor about some recent
changes. She will know what you mean."

"How can we find you again if we need to?" I asked.

"I am here at the visitor center every day," said Claude.

"Are you sure there's no way we can return to normal?" asked Lisa.

"If I knew the way back, Renee wouldn't be using my cock for a straw,"
Claude answered sadly.

Lisa and I were out of questions for the moment. Claude finally asked
for our home phone numbers and addresses, in case someone found a way
of returning people to normal. We gave him the information.

"Before we leave, Claude, may we use the bathroom?" Lisa asked.

"Yes, it's in the back," he replied.

Lisa went first and I followed. Over the toilet was a plastic squeeze
bottle that seemed out of place until I remembered Claude's changes.
Maybe Lisa and I were lucky after all; at least we didn't have to
rinse out the taste of piss after each trip to the bathroom.

Chapter 8. More Adjustments

"I still need some clothes," said Lisa after we got back to the car.
"Can you find another mall? I don't want to go back to the same one."

"Can you remember to piss like a lady this time?" I teased. I drove
back into town and then stopped to ask directions. Twenty minutes
later we parked outside the mall and went in.

"I want some skirts, a dress, some long tops, and a pair of men's
jeans," said Lisa.

"Men's jeans?" I asked. "Isn't that rather noticeable?"

Lisa grinned and gave me a sidelong wink. "That's what the long tops
are for," she answered. "Anyway, I need the practice standing up."

Lisa found a denim skirt, a yellow sun dress, a long tank top, and a
women's sweatshirt that covered her butt. She also bought some white
low heel pumps to go with the sun dress. I found myself carrying
quite a load of shopping bags as she confidently walked into The Gap
and started browsing through the men's section. A sales clerk
appeared.

"Women's jeans are on the other wall," he said.

"Oh, I need to buy a pair of men's jeans for myself," Lisa replied.
"It's for a play I'm acting in."

Amazingly, the clerk pulled out a size conversion chart. "Here, find
your normal size and then tell me your men's size," he suggested.
"You may need to try on a few styles to find one that fits, though.
Men's jeans are sized by waist rather than hips, and the cut is
different."

Lisa took three pairs into the dressing room. Through the clearance
under the door I could watch her ankles as she removed her tights and
then pulled on the jeans. Lisa called me over to swap two pairs for
another size and I could see her men's bikini underwear. When she
finally came out she was wearing her tights again.

"Have you found what you're looking for?" I asked.

"Almost," she replied. "I need the legs a little longer and I'm
hoping for another color." She browsed the stacks, made her final
selection, and then bought two pairs. "I'm going to make one pair
into cut-offs," she said. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to four," I answered. "Why?"

"I need a scissors to cut off these jeans and you need some new
underwear," said Lisa.

"I have plenty of underwear," I assured her.

"Yeah, but nothing to put in it," said Lisa, glancing sideways at me.
"Face the facts, hunk of mine; you need to start wearing panties."

My mouth became extremely dry. I'd been trying to ignore my changes
but Lisa was bringing them right to the fore, so to speak. "I don't
think I'm ready for that," I said with some hesitation.

"Shoot, it you think that, you haven't looked between your legs and
you've been pissing all over your pants for the last day. Let's go."

Lisa marched me into the lingerie section of a shop that specialized
in large women's sizes. "Are you still a 34 waist?" she asked. I
admitted I was. "Let's say you have 38 inch hips, then. This should
be your size." Lisa held out some black nylon bikini panties.

"Uh, I don't think so," I protested.

"Would you rather have pink or baby blue?" prodded Lisa. "Maybe we
should ask the sales lady for assistance, huh?"

"OK, whatever makes you happy, but don't call the sales lady. What's
the matter with white cotton?"

"Boo-rring," said Lisa. "Anybody with such a delightful pussy should
be willing to please their fiancee and wear sexy panties." I didn't
look too closely at what she had in her hand, but there seemed to be
more straps than fabric.

Lisa saved me the embarrassment of paying for my own panties and then
bought a pair of scissors at Walgreen's. On the way out, we passed a
sporting good store and Lisa insisted on buying me a pair of lycra
cycling shorts. I was still upset about the panties and didn't pay
much attention.

Chapter 9. That Sink-In Feeling

"What do you want to do about dinner?" I asked Lisa as we left the
mall.

"I want to go someplace elegant," she said. "Let's head back to the
hotel, change, and ask at the desk."

Lisa began unpacking the new clothes as I headed for the bathroom. I
was becoming resigned to sitting down all the time but I still avoided
looking between my legs. I was also getting used to wiping myself
after a pee, perhaps because I tried not to think about it. This
time, something itched and I looked down. Lisa's pussy had some fine
pubic stubble and a few of the hairs had become inflamed. There
wasn't anything I could do about it, so I grabbed my jeans and walked
out to get dressed.

Lisa had removed her clothes and stood up when I came out. The sight
of my missing cock attached to her lithe female body set off a range
of mixed emotions: shock, disgust, envy, depression. "I need a
shower," she said, "but first I want to see how these panties fit
you."

"Why can't I just wear my own underwear?" I asked. "What is this,
some kind of game? I don't know about you, but I'm finding all this
very hard to deal with."

"So am I," said Lisa, "but we do have to deal with it. According to
Claude, there's no way to get our bodies back to normal. We can't
deny what's taken place; we have to live with it. Try these on for
me." She held out the black nylon panties.

I took the panties, stuck my legs through the holes, and pulled them
up. The slippery nylon felt ridiculous but the touch of underwear
against my crotch again was familiar and reassuring.

"Now, that's not so bad," observed Lisa. "Look at yourself in the
mirror."

"I try to avoid that," I replied.

Lisa stared at me for a moment, then said, "You'll have to get used to
my equipment sometime, you know. There's no sense in putting it off."

I looked in the mirror. Now I felt perverted as well as mutilated. I
was a dickless pervert wearing women's underwear, and my fiancee
seemed to be egging me on. Great, just great!

"Now, leave those on and finish dressing," Lisa insisted. "I'll be
right back." With that, she took her personal things and headed for
the bathroom.

I put on a regular T-shirt and socks, found a clean dress shirt, and
unfolded a suit coat and pants. "Do you think I should wear a tie?" I
called to Lisa.

"What? I can't hear you," she responded, so I walked over to the
bathroom door. There I received another shock: Lisa was standing
with one foot on the toilet bowl and using the new scissors to trim
away most of my pubic hair!

"What are you doing?" I insisted with a tremor in my voice.

"Well, if I'm going to be keeping your equipment I need to know what
it really looks like. Second, you know I like keeping myself closely
trimmed. Third, your cock looked woolly and gross with that huge
bush."

At that moment, I felt about as terrible as I ever did. I'd lost my
sex organs, my fiancee had never liked the way they looked, she'd
taken over my cock and decided to feminize it, and she was making me
wear women's underwear.

"Lisa, this whole thing has really been depressing me. I've lost my
masculinity and here you are playing 'let's have fun with Doug's old
parts.' Can't you give it a break?"

Lisa stopped snipping and walked over to me. "Doug, I'm upset too but
there's no sense pouting around and feeling sorry for ourselves.
There's no future in it. I want to approach this as a new adventure
and learn to cope with it quickly."

"Right, I haven't lost a cock; I've gained a vagina. OK, OK, I'll try
not to pout. You know, you look pretty foolish standing there with a
one-sided bush."

"Doug, if you insist, I'll finish trimming your pubic hair. What did
you want to ask me in the first place?"

"Should I wear a tie?"

"Suit yourself," Lisa answered as she picked up the scissors.

Chapter 10. Acceptance

I finished dressing and stepped into the hall to think. If I was
stuck with Lisa's pussy, I would have to accept it and get on with my
life somehow. Ignoring the situation wouldn't solve anything. I
decided to think of ways that a pussy is better than a cock: keeps
sheets dry, partner doesn't have to swallow, neat and compact, better
for crossing one's legs, less likely to get painfully kicked, no
pressure to perform, multiple orgasms.

Multiple orgasms; I'd always wondered about that. I had a single
orgasm under the sheets Saturday night but that's all I expected. I
wondered what it felt like to cum, cum, cum, and cum again without
running dry. I was getting a little excited just thinking about it
and I noticed Lisa's pussy was getting wet too. I could even smell
Lisa's pussy juices. For a moment I panicked, thinking the wetness
would be visible on my pants; a quick check revealed that the lining
in my panties had saved me that embarrassment. Maybe sex with this
new equipment wouldn't be too bad, I thought. I couldn't remember
that thinking about my male parts ever caused me to dampen my shorts
with pre-cum.

"Doug, are out outside?" I heard Lisa ask.

"Yup, I'm ready when you are," I answered.

Lisa was wearing the yellow sun dress she bought that afternoon It
had a tight bodice with spaghetti straps and no back to speak of. The
skirt was knee-length and full. She looked great. The desk clerk
recommended a seafood restaurant called the Fish Bucket and called to
make reservations.

The evening air was chilly but Lisa didn't complain except to ask for
the car heater to be turned on. Outside the restaurant was a giant
rotating replica of a fisherman's bucket. Colored lights proclaimed
"Award Winning Maritime Cuisine." I let the valet park the car and we
entered in good spirits.

I approached the head waiter and noted his name badge. "Good evening,
Oscar. I'm Doug Trents. Do you have our table?"

"Ah, yes, it will be a few minutes," Oscar replied. The guy was
really handsome: tall, muscular, and Latin with a dark complexion and
slick black hair. He wore an elegant tuxedo and carried himself with
confidence. I saw Lisa watching him intently as he carried out his
duties. Moments later, I saw something poking at the front of her
dress.

"Lisa, I hate to tell a woman this kind of thing, but your hard-on is
showing," I whispered.

Lisa looked down and saw it was true. "My goodness, I've never had
this problem before," she remarked. "Maybe I should've worn
underwear. This is arousing your cock even more!"

"How could you forget your damn underwear, Lisa? Were you so busy
getting me into panties?" I asked.

"Those underpants are so plain! They're gross! They pinch. I
decided to try hanging free, that's all," replied Lisa.

By now, I could feel Lisa's pussy getting wet again. I backed against
the wall and suggested that Lisa face me before any other customers
noticed her. "Well, I still have to get to the table somehow," she
remarked.

Sure enough, Oscar called us just then. Lisa marched right through
the dining room with my cock pushing out the front of her dress but no
one else seemed to notice. Thank goodness it was a full dress and not
a lycra mini, I thought. Our booth was in a dark corner of the
restaurant. Lisa sat down with her knees together but quickly had to
spread them apart. She slid to the back of the booth.

"Having a problem?" I asked after Oscar turned and left.

"I'm not used to sitting in a restaurant with your cock between my
legs," she answered.

Moments later a sultry waitress in a brief tropical sarong arrived and
introduced herself: "Hi, I'm Emmie and I'll be serving you tonight.
Please look over the menu and I'll be right back to take your order."

A thin, blonde cocktail waitress in a black evening dress was next.
"Hello, my name is Toni. Can I get you anything from the bar?"

I asked for straight Scotch and Lisa ordered a daiquiri. As Toni
walked off, I noticed the open back of her dress and the sway of her
shapely butt.

"Does that girl excite you?" asked Lisa.

"That's a loaded question," I answered. "If I say no, you'll call me
a liar. If I say yes, you'll call me unfaithful."

"Be truthful," Lisa encouraged. "You already know I liked Oscar."

"Well, then, yes, I liked looking at Toni. Considering my status as a
dickless wonder, though, I have no idea what I'd do with her."

"I don't know what I'd do with Oscar either," admitted Lisa. "I don't
think any guy would recover from seeing what I've got under my dress.
I suppose there are some lesbians who'd be interested in me but I
can't imagine making it with them. How about you?"

"Well, I suspect most women would turn me down if I asked them to lick
your pussy," I replied. "And I can't imagine making it with a guy,
either."

Lisa slid close to me and patted my crotch. I returned the favor by
finding my erect cock inside her dress and giving it a little squeeze.
Lisa asked, "Now, don't you agree I'm just made for you?"

"Have you decided?" asked Emmie, the sarong.

"What? Oh, I'll have the swordfish," I answered with my hand back on
my lap.

"Mahi-mahi for me," said Lisa. She kept her hand in my lap stroking
her pussy, but Emmie didn't seem to notice. When she left, I reached
over to Lisa and held my cock against her thigh. My cock felt
surprisingly warm, even through the fabric of Lisa's dress. I could
feel Lisa's pussy getting really damp.

"Your pussy is going to soak through to my pants if we don't stop," I
confided to Lisa.

"Time to powder your nose," she answered. I was speechless. "Silly,
go in the men's room and use some toilet paper to dry yourself off.
Didn't you ever figure that out?"

Lisa removed her hand and I went to the men's room. It felt very odd
to be walking through the elegant dining room with my crotch so damp
and slippery, but no one gave me a second look. I found a stall in
the men's room, pulled down my pants and panties, and wiped up Lisa's
pussy. I also wiped the crotch liner of the panties and then sat down
to take a pee. Finally, I wiped Lisa's pussy once again and put my
pants back on.

Toni had delivered our drinks while I was getting cleaned up. "Lisa,
all those times you ran off to powder your nose, were you actually so
wet that you were worried about your clothes?"

"No, silly, sometimes I had to pee or fix my makeup. Other times,
though, I was really overheated."

As a man, I'd never been so aroused in a public place that I'd needed
to cool off in the men's room; not on any date, and not even as a
college student sitting in a topless bar. Well, maybe there was once
or twice in a topless bar.

"Did you ever go in the ladies room to masturbate?" I asked Lisa.

"Doug, I can't believe how bold you are tonight! No, I can't imagine
whacking myself off because I'm already hot. What would that
accomplish?"

"Well, you know, to make yourself calm down," I answered.

"Whatever was making me hot would still make me hot. What's cumming
got to do with it?" Lisa asked.

Emmie brought our entrees and we ordered more drinks. "We're in for
some new adventures, that's for sure," I told Lisa.

"Thank you, our cuisine is very unique," replied Emmie.

I cut into my swordfish. "Well, tomorrow I'll call Dr. Bohnes and
then probably change my plane reservation. I'm supposed to play golf
Tuesday morning with a client in San Francisco, but I'll cancel."

"What will you tell the client?" asked Lisa.

"I'll say I have a groin problem."

"Don't we both!" said Lisa, surprised and amused.

We finished our dinners and relaxed. Lisa slid close to me and put
her hand on the inside of my thigh. I did the same for her. Lisa's
pussy began to get wet again, and I could feel my cock growing against
the side of my palm.

"Will there be anything else?" asked Emmie. Her sarong seemed to have
slipped down a bit.

"Coffee and the check," I answered, handing her my credit card. Lisa
pinched my thigh and I corrected myself, "Make that two coffees."

"What time is your plane tomorrow?" I asked Lisa.

"Three o'clock," she replied.

"OK, I'll try for a morning appointment with the doctor and then we
can call the airlines."

Lisa was inching her hand up my leg and toward her pussy as the coffee
came. Emmie took no notice; she was either very dense or very
discreet. I added a large tip to the charge ticket and signed it.

"Do you want to go anywhere else tonight?" I asked Lisa.

"No, I've had it for today," she said.

By this time I had located my cock inside Lisa's dress again, and I
had to use my left hand to drink the coffee. "Let's go before I get
pussy stains on these pants," I suggested.

"I'd rather keep this up for a while; it feels good," said Lisa.
"Anyway, I haven't even started my coffee." I felt dampness on my
thigh and was glad I'd worn dark pants. My hand was still massaging
my cock through Lisa's thin dress.

"I think you should get rid of that hard-on before you stand up and
walk out," I advised.

"Yeah, I guess we wouldn't want to start a riot," answered Lisa.
"Then again, do you really think anyone would notice? Let's see!"
Lisa stood up and waited for me to escort her out. My cock created a
huge throbbing bulge among the folds of her sun dress. Mortified, I
stood and escorted her to the lobby. One guy noticed something but
just blinked and looked away.

"Wait a minute, I have to visit the ladies room," said Lisa as we
passed through the restaurant lobby.

"Act like a lady," I reminded her.

A minute later, Lisa stumbled out of the ladies' room. She didn't
usually drink much alcohol and the two daiquiris were having quite an
effect. The hard-on had subsided somewhat but I could still see it
protruding from her dress. "Your thing is busted," she mumbled.
"Nothing would come out."

I didn't want to be overheard so I escorted Lisa outside. "Men can't
piss when they have a hard-on," I explained. "I'm sure millions of
women over the centuries have been grateful."

"Well, its damn inconvenient," remarked Lisa.

Lisa shifted from one leg to the other as we waited for the valet to
bring the car. When he pulled up I tipped him and we both jumped in.
As we headed for the hotel, Lisa slid over against me and stroked my
thigh again. I just kept my hands on the wheel. After a few minutes
Lisa blurted, "I have to pee really bad. Stop the car."

"Is my cock still hard?" I asked.

"Not at all. Now stop the car before I pee on the floor."

There was an office building coming up on the right. I drove into the
parking lot, stopped by some bushes, and turned off the headlights.
"Wouldn't my friends in Chicago like to see me now!" exclaimed Lisa.
She rushed to the bushes, lifted her dress, and relieved herself. I
couldn't believe how odd it looked to see my trim, attractive fiancee
with one hand holding up the front of her dress and the other holding
a cock pissing in the bushes. Lisa shook it off, let her dress fall,
and returned to the car.

"I always wondered what that would be like," said Lisa.

"Yeah, well, I wish we had gone straight to the hotel," I said. "Now,
I have to go."

"Go ahead," said Lisa, smirking.

The pressure was building and there wasn't enough time to get to the
Gateway Lodge. I didn't want to mess up my suit or the rental car.
There was nothing to do except ask, "I never saw a woman piss on the
ground. Got any pointers?"

"Squat on tip toes with your knees wide apart, silly!"

There was no time left to think about it. I jumped out of the car,
pulled my pants over my shoes, removed my panties, squatted, and
relieved myself. Just as I was standing up, a flashlight illuminated
the scene. I looked over my shoulder and glimpsed a security guard.

"This is private property, buddy. No private acts allowed. Turn
around!"

"Let me put my damn pants on, will you?" I pleaded. The guard
hesitated a moment so I grabbed my pants and pulled them up. He
scanned the area with his flashlight and saw my panties.

"Where's the girl?" he asked.

"She's already in the car." I answered. "Can I just leave? We didn't
harm anything and we won't be back."

"All right, get going," said the guard, "but if I catch you again,
I'll report it to the police. It's unbelievable what some guys will
do for a little pussy."

"You don't know the half of it," I agreed, getting into the car.

Chapter 11. Reunion

Compared to the rest of the evening, the remaining drive to the hotel
was blissfully uneventful. We walked up to the room without speaking
and I unlocked the door. Lisa sat on an easy chair then crossed and
uncrossed her legs. We both kicked off our shoes and I lay back on
the bed.

"Was that wild or what?" asked Lisa.

"Why on earth didn't you wear the underpants we bought?" I asked.

"I wanted to see what it was like. We had some time though, didn't
we?"

"Almost got arrested, almost did some time."

"Oh come on, this is the most fun I've had since I grew tits."

My Freudian curiosity got me. Do women really have a castration
complex? Why did Lisa seem to be taking our bizarre change better
than I was? Was it because her castration anxiety was resolved while
mine had shockingly begun?

"Lisa, did you ever wish you had a cock?" I asked bluntly. Maybe it
was the two Scotches.

"Most of my dates gave me plenty of opportunity," she answered.

"No, I mean, did you ever feel that you once had a cock but it was cut
off or somehow stolen? Did you ever think about having a cock? Did
you ever feel like a mutilated boy?"

"No more Scotch for you, silly. I always liked my body as it was.
People have always liked me because of the way I look. I'm healthy,
and I'm good at sports. My body's been good to me. Why would I want
anything changed?"

"Well, you sure seem to enjoy pissing standing up. Plus, all evening
you took chances that someone might see you with a cock and balls. It
seems you're having a lot of fun and I'm miserable."

"Ho, ho, listen to this," taunted Lisa. "You spend one whole day
without your precious little weenie and now you're a pussy-fired
liberationist. You should go with the flow: enjoy life more and worry
less. There must be a million guys who'd love to know what a pussy
feels like from the inside. All you can do is accuse me of penis
envy."

"But Claude Storm says there's no way back."

"So enjoy life with what you've got. Anyway, the doctor might have
more options."

"Would you change back?" I asked.

"What a question! Of course! I feel like some kind of freak walking
around with a cock stuck on where my pussy is supposed to be. I'm the
one who should be depressed; my changes are harder to hide."

I stood up and hung my pants. "Tell me about multiple orgasms," I
suggested.

"Great stuff! Never had them, huh?"

"Nope, only one shot between recharges."

"Well, it's a tough job but somebody's got to do it," Lisa said in a
resigned sort of way. Lisa stood up, reclined on the bed, and
extended her arms. I crawled beside her, then we embraced and kissed.

I grasped Lisa and rolled onto my back. She began to grind her hips
against mine, and I began to feel my cock pressing through her dress
and against her pussy. Lisa moved her hips in a circular motion,
causing my cock to massage her clitoris. I could feel juices running
from her vagina down to my butt. We continued kissing tongue to
tongue as I slid my hands under Lisa's dress to massage her hips and
ass. I was getting sensations from Lisa's clitoris that felt a lot
like a hard cock, but different also. Unexpectedly, I came. Lisa
kept kissing and grinding, and her pussy hardly let down at all. It
was like a time machine; right after cumming, I was ready to cum
again. I did.

Lisa lifted her dress, rolled on a condom from her purse, and pushed
my cock into her cunt. She pressed her hips against her clitoris and
began again to grind. I could sense the impossible feeling of my cock
moving around inside Lisa's vagina. It felt like my cock and balls
had been turned inside out and coated with oil. Lisa kept moving my
cock around and the flow of lubrication intensified. I came again.
Seconds later, I came once more but still didn't calm down. Lisa's
body was bucking furiously until she froze, tensed, and let my cock
shot its load. I didn't feel anything special inside Lisa's vagina
because it was so wet already. Lisa resumed grinding her hips against
her clitoris and her pussy climaxed again. Finally, the sensations
from inside Lisa's vagina got less and I realized my cock must have
gone soft. I was still ready for orgasm, and moaned, "Don't stop."

Lisa pulled away from me for a second, flipped around, and began to
kiss her pussy lips. My cock was only inches from my face but I was
completely distracted by the incredible sensations coming from Lisa's
pussy. She began to tongue her clitoris and I came at least three
times within a minute. I began to stroke her hips and butt. I saw my
cock starting to stiffen again.

I had never sucked cock but, at the time, it seemed like the right
thing to do. I rolled my tongue around the head of my cock and Lisa
squealed with delight. She continued to tongue her clitoris as I
continued to arouse my cock. After a while, Lisa's pussy became less
aroused and my cock started to go soft again. It was over.

Lisa rolled around and put her head on the pillow. "How many?" she
asked.

"I wasn't counting and I can't remember," I answered.

"Well, just once for me -- of course, you knew that."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah, it was good. But are you still certain you got the poor end of
this deal?" asked Lisa.

After a few minutes I took off the rest of my clothes and noticed what
a sticky mess I had in my crotch. I went into the bathroom and wiped
up with damp cloth. When I came out, Lisa's dress was on the chair
and she was under the covers asleep. In a minute, so was I.

Chapter 12. Monday Monday Monday, Week 2

In the morning I woke to the sound of Lisa fussing with her clothes.
So far she'd put on a sports bra and a pair of the men's underpants we
bought Sunday. As I watched, she wiggled into her biker shorts and
pulled on a long tank top. The bulge of my cock was plainly visible
until she finished putting on the top.

"Where are you going?" I asked as she donned ankle socks and running
shoes.

"I haven't worked out since Friday morning," Lisa answered. "I'll
lose business if I turn to flab. If you want to join me, I'll wait."

Lisa looked great standing there in her exercise clothes, but the bed
felt great too. "It'll take me more than a few minutes to get ready.
Are you sure you want to wait?" I asked.

"I'll run laps around the hotel while I'm waiting. Meet me out
front," said Lisa as she walked out.

I went into the bathroom, sat down, peed and crapped. The night
before had certainly been wild, and sex with Lisa's equipment had been
intensely pleasureful. After standing up and wiping myself, I looked
squarely in the mirror. I saw what I expected: a guy with a pussy.
Most of the shock had worn off. Stubble was starting to appear as
Lisa's pubic hair grew back. I had started to accept the changes.

My khaki shorts were too rough for running; they would chafe. I
hadn't packed any tennis or running shorts. Suddenly I remembered the
cycling shorts Lisa had bought for me the day before. I put on a pair
of cotton panties, found the shorts, and pulled them on. They were a
light burgundy color. I put on my socks and running shoes, found a
Nike T-shirt, grabbed the room key, and left.

There was a jogging path that ran around the hotel, so I found Lisa by
waiting at the nearest fitness station. I fell into stride beside her
and we found an agreeable pace. As an aerobics instructor, Lisa was
able to exercise all day and could have run me into the ground without
trying. However, she never made a thing about it.

According to signs posted along the path, one lap was half a mile.
After two laps, Lisa remarked, "You're looking a little flat this
morning, Doug. Did you check yourself out before wearing those
shorts?"

"Well, I feel a little flat. I'll hurry it up," I answered. "As for
the shorts, I had to choose between these and the khaki ones. The
khaki ones would've chaffed."

"I mean, your crotch looks very flat -- no bulge at all."

"You have lycra shorts on, too," I reminded Lisa.

"Yeah, but this top is like a dress. I'm not showing off to the world
like you are."

"Last night you told me to enjoy life with what I've got. I'm out
taking a run, wearing comfortable clothes, that's all. I can't spend
the rest of my life wearing baggy clothes. Anyway, no one else is out
this morning."

Murphy's Law was in full force at that moment. Just as I assured Lisa
we were alone, another couple swung onto the path. Naturally, they
were headed toward us. In a moment we passed each other. The woman
gave me a once over and then started to stare. The closer we got, the
more amazed her expression became. She finally just stood and stared,
and I nearly bumped into her. Lisa and I just kept running like
nothing had happened.

"I think you surprised her," said Lisa.

"People shouldn't stare at the misfortune of others," I replied.

"The guy didn't notice a thing," I remarked.

"He was watching me too intently to notice you," said Lisa.

"Why don't you tuck in that shirt or tie the end in a knot?" I
suggested. "We can place bets on which of them has the most comical
reaction."

Lisa looked at me quizzically. "This isn't like you, Doug. Usually I
get the wild ideas. Are you OK?"

"I'm not entirely myself this morning. Fix your shirt."

Lisa hiked up one side of her top to the waist and tied the other side
in a knot. The bulge of my cock and balls was clearly visible. We
followed the path around the back of the hotel and soon spotted the
other couple jogging toward us. I could see the woman staring at my
crotch again, but I paid more attention to the man. He was watching
Lisa intently, all right. Suddenly, his expression turned from
pleasant day dreaming to shock. As we passed, the other couple
stopped still, one on each side of the path. Their eyes and mouths
were wide open. Lisa and I just ran past as if nothing was happening.
After continuing a few hundred yards, we burst out laughing.

"You'd think they never saw a man and woman in shorts before," I said.

"Right: one man, one woman, one cock, one pussy. What could be more
normal?" Lisa asked.

"Maybe we're taking this too lightly," I suggested. "How often are we
going to face that reaction during the rest of our lives?"

"How often are we going to wear lycra shorts?" asked Lisa.

"How often are you going to lead aerobics class? How often will I
take a shower after golf or tennis?"

"We'll both have to make adjustments," Lisa said. "I may have to wear
bloomers; you may have to skip showers. Life goes on."

We didn't see the other couple again until we'd made a complete
circuit. They were talking by the side of the path. As we approached
them, the man flagged us down.

"Pardon me; do you have a minute?" he asked. His eyes were all over
Lisa again.

I was good for about one more mile so I invited them to join us. They
fell in right behind us.

"You folks have unusual physiques," the guy said.

"Different strokes for different folks," I replied.

"Are you having a mutual sex change or something?" he asked.

"That's a really personal question," Lisa responded.

"We think you're fascinating," said the woman. "My husband and I are
bisexual. Can we meet you for breakfast or something? I'm sure we
can find personal stories to share."

No one spoke for a minute. I looked over to Lisa, but she just
shrugged. "We haven't eaten breakfast yet, but we might skip it if a
certain person can see us right away. We won't know until we get back
to the room and call," I said.

"Fair enough," said the guy. "If you can meet us, call room 255. My
name is Ace Deesi and this is my wife DiDi."

We were nearing the hotel entrance closest to our room. I told Ace
and DiDi we'd call if we could, then Lisa and I swung off the path and
into the Gateway Lodge.

Chapter 13. Arrangements

Back in the room, I dialed Dr. Bohnes's office using the number Claude
Storm had given me. When the receptionist answered, I began to
explain our predicament.

"My name is Doug Trents, and I'm visiting Santa Fe with my fiancee
Lisa Kahr. Both of us need to see Dr. Bohnes about some recent
changes. We were referred by Claude and Renee Storm."

"I understand your problem," said the receptionist. "My name is Wanda
Bohnes; the doctor is my husband. Are you hoping to get an
appointment today?"

"Yes, early this morning if possible," I replied.

"Well, let me see. No, there's nothing this morning. I do have a
cancellation at two fifteen this afternoon. Can we expect to see you
then?"

"OK, if that's the best you can do. We'll be there at two fifteen."

"I'll write you in, then," said Wanda. "In the meantime, don't do
anything drastic. Good-bye."

"He can't see us until a quarter after two," I told Lisa.

"I heard. Are you taking an evening flight to San Francisco, then?"

"I hate getting into town late, and I'm canceling my Tuesday morning
golf game anyway. I'll take a morning flight," I said.

"I'll change my flight to tomorrow morning also, then," said Lisa.
"I'll have to call both the airline and my mom. Since we have the
morning free, there's someone else I want to try calling as well.
Take your shower and I'll start making phone calls."

"What about meeting Ace and DiDi?" I asked.

"Get serious!"

I peeled off my T-shirt, lycra shorts, and panties and spread them on
a chair to dry. In the bathroom I faced the mirror to shave. My eyes
were drawn repeatedly to Lisa's pussy. It had a really unkempt look
to it with a three day growth of stubble, and it would undoubtedly be
examined by the doctor. I had lather and a razor in hand already.
After finishing my face, I spread lather on Lisa's pussy and carefully
began to shave it. I found I couldn't reach everywhere while
standing, and sat on the edge of the tub as I completed the job. I
stood to put the lather and razor back on the vanity, then admired my
handiwork in the mirror. It's my favorite pussy in its favorite
state, I thought, but not quite in my favorite place. Oh well. I
stepped back into the tub, turned on the shower, washed, and rinsed.

I had to pee and didn't feel happy about having to sit on the cold
toilet seat. Also, it seemed so useless to step out of a clean shower
and then dribble piss across my crotch. I decided to stand and pee,
just for old times' sake, before leaving the shower. I enjoyed the
old feeling even if there was nothing for my hands to do. I rinsed
myself again, turned off the water, dried, and stepped out to dress.

Lisa was talking to someone on the phone and making notes. After some
discussion and a lot of writing, she said, "OK, we'll be there," and
hung up.

"We'll be where?" I asked.

"We have an appointment to see Dr. Allen Damihnd," Lisa announced
proudly.

"Great! Now let me ask, who is Allen Damihnd?"

"Dr. Damihnd is a well-known author and philosopher. He's an
authority on Native American culture, physical manifestations of
meditation, and out of body experiences. We're incredibly lucky he's
in town and has time to see us. How long will it take to get to the
college?"

I wasn't really into New Age philosophy, but I didn't have anything
else to do that morning either. I pulled out the guide book, found a
map that showed the college, and estimated thirty minutes.

"OK, I'm going to shower," Lisa announced. "Why don't you go ahead
and get dressed?"

"What do I wear for this fortunate interview?"

"It doesn't really matter, but don't forget your panties," Lisa
grinned. She stripped and headed for the bathroom.

After a week on the road, most of my clothes were dirty. I sorted
through my suitcase, made a pile of laundry, and called the desk to
have it washed.

Lisa's pussy was a little tender from the close shave I'd given it, so
I looked through the bag of panties. There were only two clean pairs
left; a black nylon bikini and two tiny cotton triangles connected by
a waist strap. Cursing under my breath, I put on the cotton ones and
wondered why Lisa couldn't have picked out some more masculine
panties. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I also looked ridiculous
wearing skimpy women's underwear.

I put on socks, jeans, a casual shirt, and running shoes. Things felt
normal again. Next, I called the airline and changed my reservation.
The receptionist answered when I called my customer: I left a message
that I couldn't play golf but would meet in the afternoon as planned.

Lisa sauntered out nude from her shower and found the scissors. She
unpacked a pair of jeans, pulled off the labels, and put them on.

"Here, hold this against the table for me," she said, handing me a
ball point pen. "I want some marks three inches below my butt."

Lisa backed up to the table and I braced the pen three inches below
the edge of her butt. Lisa then turned so I could mark each hip and
the front and back of each leg. Finally, she removed the jeans, cut
off both legs at the marks, and folded each leg up twice. She started
to put the cut-offs back on, but I interrupted.

"Ta, ta, if I have to wear panties, you have to wear underpants," I
teased. "Anyway, that new denim is going to chafe and you won't be
comfortable."

Lisa looked through the men's underwear we bought. "This stuff is so
plain and boring. How do men stand it?" She put on a gray cotton
pair and donned the cutoffs. They fit her hips and butt fairly well,
but the waist was a little too large. I suggested a belt.

"I think a belt would just make the waist bunch up. Anyway, they'll
stay up on my hips," Lisa said. She put on a tank top, ankle socks,
and running shoes, then pronounced herself ready to go. She looked
incredibly sexy in the short cutoffs with the waist seemingly open.

"Turn around and face me," I ordered. "Aha, just as I suspected, you
have a manly bulge."

"That's just the cut of the pants. I had several girl friends who
wore guy's jeans because they couldn't find a women's size with the
hip and leg combination they needed. It is time to go?" It was and
we did. On the way out, Lisa grabbed the necklaces we bought from
Claude Storm and slipped them over both our necks.

"What do you expect to get from this Allen guy?" I asked as we drove
toward the college.

"Allen Damihnd has a unique approach to analyzing unusual phenomena,
especially transformations. He's also an expert on Native American
culture. Maybe he can explain what happened to us. Look, there's a
grocery store! Get some breakfast."

I bought two large naval oranges, some Thompson grapes, and two cups
of coffee to go. We munched toward the college in silence. After
reaching the campus, Lisa started reading me the directions Damihnd
gave her over the phone. I parked in a visitor's space outside
Damihnd's building and we went inside to find his office.

Chapter 14. Weird Science

The place was a zoo. Damihnd had several kinds of fish in aquariums,
a parrot in a cage, hamsters in a habitat, some snakes in a glass
cage, and probably a few more species I didn't notice. Bookshelves
were mounted everywhere. Placed randomly were various Indian
artifacts: pots, bricks, carvings, dolls, clothing, jewelry, and some
objects I couldn't identify. There were books on astronomy, animal
behavior, psychology, sociology, anthropology, Native American
culture, and a smattering of other subjects.

Damihnd himself was sitting at his desk. He was about forty-two years
old, with long dark hair combed straight back. His face was augmented
with a long mustache and thin wire-frame glasses. He had several books
propped open and was running two PC's. One PC was connected to an
information service; the other was running a word processor which
Damihnd was typing into furiously. He held up a finger to ask for one
minute but it took him five to finish his thought.

"Hello, thanks for waiting. I'm Allen Damihnd. Why have you come?"

"My name is Lisa Kahr and this is my fiancee, Doug Trents. I called
you this morning about a transformation we've experienced."

"Oh yes, I remember now. Please find a place to sit. There are
usually some chairs in the hall. If not, look in the room two doors
away." Damihnd went back to viewing the information displayed by the
on-line PC.

I found one chair in the hall and another in a vending area two doors
away. They were both student chairs with arm rests that extended into
writing surfaces. I dragged the chairs over to Damihnd's desk and
Lisa and I sat in them. Damihnd again held up a finger then turned to
face us a minute later.

"What is the nature of this transformation?" he asked.

"We had sex in an ancient ceremonial cavern we discovered while
hiking. In the process, our sex organs were exchanged," said Lisa. I
couldn't believe she was speaking so directly to this guy we had never
met.

Damihnd registered no surprise at Lisa's revelation. "I see. You
have proof of this?"

"If seeing is believing, we could drop our drawers right here and
now," I remarked.

"I'm afraid that will be necessary," said Damihnd. "I am approached
by numerous crackpots claiming everything from UFO's to heavenly
visitations. Please close the door. This will only take a minute."

I glanced at Lisa and she just stared back. I closed the door and
removed my jeans and panties. Lisa stood up and dropped her cutoffs
and underpants to her knees. Damihnd registered his first and only
surprise when he saw my skimpy women's panties, but he said nothing.

"Have you been examined medically?" he asked after a moment.

"No, we have an appointment this afternoon," Lisa answered.

"I must be assured this is not trickery or plastic surgery," Damihnd
stated. He opened a cabinet and removed two large beakers. "Please
urinate into these," he said.

"Now, wait a minute. This is getting a bit perverted," I complained.

"Not at all," responded Damihnd. "Sex reassignment surgery had been
unable to create a functioning male penis for women. If Lisa proves
she can urinate through the penis, then I know we are beyond the range
of current medical science. The same test is less conclusive for you,
but it will still be constructive. I believe I can help you
understand the cause of your situation, but first I must gather the
facts. I'm leaving town tomorrow and cannot wait for a medical
report. Now, please urinate or get this hoax out of my office."

Lisa held one of the beakers to my cock, concentrated a minute, and
let go with a stream. I set the beaker on the floor, squatted on my
toes, and let the guy watch me pee. It was quite humiliating. "Do
you have a tissue?" I asked.

"Ah, no, sorry. Here's a dust rag; best I can do. I must say: I
didn't expect you to go through with that. I thought you'd admit a
hoax and then leave."

I wiped myself and stood. "Did you think we'd make up a story like
that?" I asked.

"Many people have come in here with stranger ones, I assure you, and
none of them could produce physical evidence as you have just done. I
am interested in your case. Will you permit me to take photographs?"

Lisa had already shaken off the last drop and was zipping her fly.
She froze.

"Of us pissing? No way!" I answered.

"No, no, that's probably impossible just now. However, I do need
permanent documentation. I'll exclude your faces, if you like."

"You won't publish them or anything, will you?" Lisa asked.

"Nothing will be published or discussed without your knowledge and
consent. You can remain anonymous if you prefer."

"OK, shoot," I said. Lisa dropped her shorts again as Damihnd took
out a 35 mm camera. He attached a flash and took two shots of us
standing together. He also took two close-up frontal shots of Lisa
and two of me, then we replaced our clothes.

"The beakers have served their purpose; please dump and rinse them in
the washrooms down the hall. Throw out that dust rag, too," Damihnd
ordered.

I opened the office door and looked up and down the hall. No one was
there. I asked Damihnd, "Which way are the washrooms?"

"Far left," he answered, and I hurried away with the dust rag and two
beakers. Two students were standing at urinals but said nothing as I
dumped the beakers into a toilet. I tossed the rag into the trash
can, rinsed the beakers in a sink, and wiped them with a paper towel.
When I returned to Damihnd's office, he was looking at Lisa's
necklace.

"So, tell me if I understand correctly. You found a pyramid cavern
with sexual pictographs on the walls, came back that evening, had sex,
and were transformed by receiving each other's sex organs. The
pictographs resembled the ones on this necklace. An old couple named
Claude and Renee Storm were similarly affected and have photographs
documenting more cases. This afternoon you are going to see Dr. Saul
Bohnes, who apparently has experience in such transformations. Is
that correct?"

"Yes, except that I have a necklace also," I added.

"Let me see it," said Damihnd.

He compared the two necklaces and declared the figures identical.
"It's interesting that each necklace has one male and one female
figure. The medallion transforms itself depending on which side is
facing out." The professor then turned to face the window and held
his chin in thought for several minutes.

"I'm leaving Santa Fe this evening to inspect some diggings near
Sedona, Arizona. That will take two or three days. In the meantime, I
want you to show the pyramid cavern to my research assistant. She
will take some measurements and photograph the walls. Perhaps we can
identify the people who created the cavern. Perhaps we can interpret
the pictographs. There are people here at the college who are skilled
in these things. How long will you be in town?"

"We have flights early tomorrow morning," I replied.

"And a doctor's appointment this afternoon. Let me call my assistant
and see what we can arrange." Damihnd picked up the phone, dialed,
and waited. "Hello, I need to speak with Ada Kamp," he said.

The professor turned to Lisa and said, "Would you please go to the
third office to the left, on the other side of the hall, and ask the
secretary for two medical information release forms? Thank you."

Lisa glanced at me, received a shrug, and went to find the secretary.
The professor started speaking into the phone again.

"Ada, this is Dr. Damihnd. I need you to take some measurements and
photographs late this afternoon. Are you available? Yes? Fine! You
need to meet two people at, shall we say, four o'clock at the
wilderness area west of town." The professor looked at me
inquisitively to confirm the schedule, and I nodded. Lisa returned
with the forms.

"Will you have your jeep?" the professor asked Ada. "Fine; I'll tell
them to find you in the parking lot. Bring film for at least a
hundred pictures, a flash, a long tape measure, and solar instruments.
Give the film and notebooks to Dr. Surtz tomorrow morning. One more
thing: don't enter the cavern unless you will be alone. That's right:
I believe there could be a danger. I'll talk to you Friday or Monday.
Good-bye."

Damihnd hung up the phone and turned to us. "Ada Kamp is my research
assistant. I'd like you to meet her in the wilderness parking lot at
four o'clock. She has a hard top Jeep painted in a black and white
zebra pattern. You won't have any trouble finding it. I've asked her
to give the data to Dr. Ray Surtz, a colleague of mine and an expert
on pictographs. Please fill out those release forms and give them to
the doctor. Do you plan on returning to Santa Fe any time soon?"

"Uh, no," I answered.

"Do we need to?" asked Lisa.

"Well, I suppose we can discuss any findings by phone. Would you be
able to return if necessary?

"If there were a good reason, we could return," I answered.

"Here is my calling card. Please write your name, address, and all
phone numbers on these index cards. Write the doctor's name, address
and phone number on the third card," Damihnd ordered, handing us three
5 by 7 cards. "I believe there is nothing more we can discuss today.
I'm sure we'll speak again."

"Where's a good place for lunch?" I asked.

"I recommend a French cafe called the Champes en Buquette. Use the
North parking lot exit, take the next two left turns, and continue for
three quarters of a mile. Good day!"

Allen Damihnd immediately turned back to his two computers. We filled
out the index cards and left them on his desk.

Chapter 15. Mixed Feelings

We followed the professor's directions and discovered a bistro called
the Chompin' Bucket. The building, once a residential brick bungalow,
had been remodeled long ago. A large sign proclaimed "Best French
Fries In Santa Fe!" Actually, I don't mind a practical joke if it's
harmless and well done.

We climbed the front steps and entered. I could see that most of the
interior walls had been removed and the windows had been walled over.
Plants were hung strategically to disguise joints in the walls and
floor. The chairs were ancient and the tables were tiny. The
atmosphere was that of a campus tradition: well-worn and homey. We
got in just before the lunch crowd and scanned the menu. Lisa wanted
a melon and lettuce sandwich with mineral water. I chose a burger,
fries, and draft beer. No waitress arrived, so I ordered at the
counter. They took my money before they showed me the food but what
the hell; you have to take some chances in life.

Back at the table, I expounded, "Lisa, that guy ought to change his
name to Dr. Demento."

"He's got a wonderful reputation," Lisa answered. "I can't believe
how lucky we are to capture his interest. I'm sure he'll come up with
something."

"I think he's the crackpot, not us," I replied.

"You just wait; I bet he comes up with something worthwhile," said
Lisa. "Who are you seeing in San Francisco?"

"It's San Carlos, actually. A chip company named MicroMind wants to
expand their plant, but the city government feels they release too
much hazardous waste already. We're hoping to change MicroMind's
production techniques or waste disposal to make the expansion
possible. I have to convince them we should be allowed into the
bidding."

"Sounds fascinating," Lisa remarked sarcastically. "I'd rather spend
three days with my mom."

"What's she up to in Houston?" I asked.

"My dad is spending less and less time with his business. He's
starting to talk about early retirement or selling out. They bought a
beach front camping resort of some kind. At least one of them is down
there most of the time."

"Sounds great to me," I said. Lisa's parents were in their late
forties and both had remained attractive and healthy. Retirement to a
life on the beach before age fifty: who could argue with that? "What
kind of place is it?"

"I really don't know. When I asked my mom what kind of clothes to
bring, she said it doesn't matter. I plan to buy some clothes after I
get there."

"You might have enough now. What do they call the place?" I asked.

"Buckskin Family Resort."

The cashier called my number and I picked up our orders. I must admit
that Dr. Damihnd didn't steer us wrong; the food was rather good. We
watched the college students socializing and I wondered if they knew
what a rat race they were headed for. After eating we got into the
car and headed toward the doctor's office.

Chapter 16. Medical Advice

We got to the Paine Medical Plaza at two o'clock and found Dr.
Bohnes's office. The receptionist's window had a piece of drywall
instead of glass but the mouth screen and cash slot were in their
normal positions. I rang the bell and recognized the receptionist's
voice.

"Good afternoon, may I help you?" she asked.

"I'm Doug Trents. Lisa Kahr and I have an appointment at two
fifteen."

"Oh yes, Mr. Trents. Please give me your insurance cards, then sit
down and fill out these forms. We need a full name, address, and
phone number to start your file. The doctor will see you shortly."

We read old magazines for more like thirty minutes. Several patients
had business with the receptionist but always spoke through the opaque
window. Finally, the receptionist paged us and said to go inside and
find examining room three.

Dr. Bohnes entered room three a few minutes later. He was in his
early forties, of average height and weight. He had thinning brown
hair and wore steel rimmed glasses. "Good afternoon, what can I help
you with?" he asked.

"We were referred by Claude Storm. Do you recall him?"

"Oh yes, Claude and I spend considerable time together. I'm very
familiar with him and his wife Renee. Have you met her?"

"Yes, we all had a beer together," I answered as if speaking in code.
"Like Claude and Renee, Lisa and I have gone through some changes."

"Perhaps you'd better show me. Please undress. I'll be back in a few
minutes," said the doctor. Here we go again, I thought, and the guy
probably wants to take pictures too. After Dr. Bohnes left the room,
Lisa and I removed our clothes. I looked around for a gown but didn't
find one.

"Never before have I flashed so many people in a single day," I
remarked.

"I know how you feel," Lisa empathized.

The doctor returned and glanced up and down our bodies. Next, he
asked me to lie on the examining table with my knees up and apart. He
bent within six inches of me and examined Lisa's pussy. Pardoning
himself, he then spread Lisa's pussy lips and examined her inner lips
and clitoris. I could feel her pussy starting to get wet.

"Please step down," the doctor instructed. "Lisa, please lie on the
table." Dr. Bohnes began examining Lisa just as closely as he did me.
My cock started to get hard when he examined it. Lisa grinned
mischievously but the doctor moved away.

"You are very fortunate," he announced.

"People keep telling us that, but we never wanted this to happen.
It's more of a tragedy, if you ask me," I said.

"Well, I can see that you'd feel that way but it could've been a lot
worse. You could have ended up like Claude and Renee, or Wanda and
myself."

"You seem OK to me," I noted.

"Let me get Wanda, my wife, and then you'll understand. Wanda is a
nurse; please don't bother to get dressed."

The doctor left the room and returned with his wife a few minutes
later. Wanda was the same height as Saul; she had a good figure and
shoulder-length blonde hair but pale, slightly aging skin. Rather
than a traditional nurse's uniform, she wore a white cardigan sweater
and white skirt. She took a close look at us and our transplanted
gonads, then extended her hand. "Oh, you are Doug and Lisa. My name
is Wanda. How do you do?"

At first I thought Wanda was a ventriloquist because I heard words but
her mouth wasn't moving. Then I realized that the sound was coming
not from her face, but from her chest! Wanda opened her sweater and
revealed a perfectly formed mouth where her right tit should have
been.

"Wanda has always been able to climax just from having her breasts
stimulated," said the doctor. "I was kissing her right breast when
the transplant occurred. My mouth became affixed where you see it
now, and Wanda's breast replaced my mouth and chin. There was no way
I could practice medicine in that condition. I had no other career
possibilities and Lisa could never support both of us on nurse's pay.
Claude Storm assured us no one had ever reversed a transplant; the
changes could only progress. We were both facing poverty and made a
drastic choice. There was no way to get my mouth back, so Wanda gave
me hers. She received her own right breast in place of her mouth and
jaw."

"It doesn't look like a breast," remarked Lisa.

"Fortunately, I have friends who do plastic surgery," said the doctor.
They performed breast reduction surgery to mimic the shape of a normal
jaw. They also reshaped Wanda's nipple to resemble lips. She can
appear in public but cannot speak without revealing her situation.
Now, who are the lucky ones, you or we?"

"On a scale of one to ten, with ten being very lucky, I guess we score
two to your one," I said. "However, I appreciate your being honest
and trying to console us."

"Can you eat and speak normally, having a mouth in your chest?" Lisa
asked Wanda.

"Yes, I can," answered Wanda, pulling off her sweater. "I hope you
don't mind my getting slightly undressed. If I talk with the sweater
on, Saul's mouth gets full of fuzz."

After she removed her sweater, I could see that Wanda was wearing a
specially modified blouse. It had a V-neck, normal shoulders, and two
sleeves. However, the front right panel was missing from the collar
bone down. "This is how I dress around the house and behind the
receptionist's window," explained Wanda. "When I go out, I have to
wear a mastectomy bra. I hate the foam ones, though. I found some
hollow plastic breast forms at a sex shop and Saul drilled air holes
in them for me."

"You seem to have accepted your deformity quite well," I noted.

"Well, all the changes occurred several years ago and I guess a person
does get used to it. Of course, Saul and I wish none of this had
happened but we needed to get on with our lives." Wanda drew a cup of
water from the faucet, inserted a straw, and sucked the water into her
chest.

"After the first exchange, did you speak and eat with your own mouth
or with Saul's?" Lisa asked.

"I could eat with either but I spoke with my own mouth," said Wanda.
"Now, the worst part is being unable to speak in public. I hate
Saul's beard, too; I have to shave around his mouth every morning."

"There is something quite notable about these transplants," Dr. Bohnes
explained. "I've seen remarkable adaptation to allow the person to
keep living. When we undertook the second transplant, there was no
guarantee that Wanda would be able to speak at all. However, her
throat and vocal chords were rearranged along with the other changes.
You have seen Renee Storm; it is remarkable that she can drink through
Claude's penis. These adaptations are not strictly part of the
transplant, but fortunately they occur consistently."

"Did the second transplant go the same as the first?" I asked.

"No, we went to the pyramid cavern many times without any result. On
the night the second transplant finally occurred, the cavern was a
little brighter. I think the moon may have been shining into the air
chimney. Light seems to be required for the procedure to work. I
hope you're not thinking of a second transplant."

"Well, neither of us wants to spend the rest of our life in this
condition," I said.

"Believe me, no one affected by these transplants is in better shape
than you two. You have a perfectly normal appearance when dressed and
perfectly normal sex organs. Stay together and get on with your
lives. If you try another transplant, the effect is unlikely to be
what you wanted. Wanda, will you take two blood samples, please?"

"OK, doctor, then I need to get back to the phone," said Wanda. She
expertly drew our blood then pulled on her sweater and returned to her
office.

"I'd like to send some bodily fluids out for lab testing," said the
doctor. "Here are some specimen bottles; please fill them up before
you go. The washroom is next door. Also, I'd like a semen sample
from you, Lisa. I'll get a condom."

"Doctor, can I get pregnant?" I asked.

"We won't know for sure until the sperm analysis is complete, but I
suspect you can get pregnant only from Lisa. In other cases like
yours, the male acquires ovaries that produce testosterone and male
eggs. The woman has testicles that produce estrogen and feminine
sperm. These are some of the beneficial adaptations that appear with
these transplants. Other benefits are that you won't be growing a
beard because of Doug's testosterone, Lisa. Doug, you won't be
growing breasts because of Lisa's estrogen."

Those possibilities hadn't occurred to me, but I was sure glad to hear
they wouldn't happen.

"One more thing; if possible, I'd like to have some pictures of each
of you. I won't reveal your identities without permission," said the
doctor.

I was starting to expect this everywhere I went. "Sure, why not?" I
answered.

"Fine. After you've left your specimen, please take this order to the
X-ray lab down the hall. Can you come back in a week?"

"We're from out of town," Lisa explained.

"Well, call me in a week, then. Would you be able to return if
necessary?"

"If there were a good reason, we could return," I answered.

"Good luck," said the doctor on his way out.

Lisa put the specimen bottle to my cock and let out a stream. "What a
crude wench!" I teased. "Are you avoiding toilets these days?"

"We'll be late meeting Dr. Damihnd's assistant if we don't hurry,"
Lisa answered. "Quit stalling and hit the bottle."

Until then, I hadn't paid much attention to where my piss came out. I
preferred to just look the other way. True, I'd hit the beaker in Dr.
Damihnd's office but the specimen bottle was much narrower. I
squatted, held the little bottle in front of me, and asked Lisa, "Does
it look like my aim is about right?"

"Tough guy can't even piss straight?" teased Lisa, returning my barb.
"Try a little lower."

I splashed a little on the floor but Lisa handed me some paper towels.
First I wiped her pussy, then the floor. I put the specimen bottle on
the tray next to Lisa's and told her, "If you're in such a hurry, you
should be working on that semen sample already."

"What do I do?" asked Lisa.

I had trouble believing Lisa couldn't figure this one out. "Get my
cock hard, roll the condom onto it, then cum. How tough can it be?"

"Well, I have no experience with such things," said Lisa. "If the
normal procedure is to stiffen up your own cock, that's what I think
you should do."

This was crazy, but I just wanted to get the whole thing over with.
Lisa reclined on the examining table and I began to softly stroke my
cock. It stiffened up right away and Lisa started grinning. I put on
the condom and asked, "What about me?"

"I don't know if there's room here for two," answered Lisa.

I looked around the examining table and noticed a foot step under
Lisa's feet. Standing on the step, I pulled Lisa's thighs next to my
hips. With my legs together, Lisa's pussy wouldn't open far enough
for my cock. "Let's trade places," I suggested.

"What a fussy guy!" Lisa exclaimed as she swung around and put her
feet on the floor. My cock was sticking straight out and looked
rather weird with the condom stretched over it. Lisa was stroking my
balls. "You there, with the pussy, get on your back and prepare to be
invaded!" she ordered.

I reclined on the examining table and Lisa mounted the foot step.
This time it was she who held my thighs. She pulled my hips toward
her, thus drawing her pussy toward my cock. "Your pussy is still
dry," I warned Lisa, and she began to massage her clitoris. After a
minute I said "Ready when you are!" I felt Lisa's pussy stretch out
as she pushed my latex-covered cock into it. I reached up and
squeezed Lisa's nipples as she ground my cock against her cunt. The
short stubble of my remaining pubic hair felt rough against the skin
of Lisa's smooth mound. Lisa was using both hands to hold my thighs
and had stopped stroking her clitoris. I could feel the lubrication
ebbing so I moved one hand to Lisa's clitoris while continuing to
stroke her breasts with the other. Lisa continued pumping my dick
against me. As I worked her clitoris I began to feel waves of
sensation spreading through my body.

"Tighten up," urged Lisa.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Tighten up my pussy. Try to pull it up inside of you. It's like
stopping piss," she gasped between heavy breaths.

I began working various muscles around my crotch and found one that
seemed to increase the friction of Lisa's vagina against my cock.
"That's it!" Lisa grunted, "Keep that up!"

Now I was rolling Lisa's nipples between the fingers of one hand,
rubbing her clitoris with the other, and trying to grasp my cock with
her pussy all at the same time. Good thing I'm not also chewing gum,
I thought. Suddenly, Lisa stiffened and gasped. "Mission
accomplished," she announced shortly.

I hadn't experienced anything like an orgasm; then again, I had
enjoyed many new sensations and I was tired. I stopped my various
activities and motioned for Lisa to pull out.

"Did you cum?" she asked.

"Yeah, it was good," I lied. "Don't spill that semen sample, though.
We'll be late if we have to go through this again."

"Where do I put it?" Lisa asked.

"Just give it to me," said a third voice.

Lisa and I spun immediately in the direction of the new voice. There
stood a red-haired guy in a medical coat with his hands behind his
back and a boyish grin on his face. "Are you ready for your X-rays?"
he asked. "I got the equipment all set up and came looking for you."

"More like looking at us cumming," said Lisa. "How long were you
standing there?"

"Less than five minutes," he answered. "I suppose you'll want to
clean up; after that, please meet me in the X-ray lab."

"Should we dress, put on a gown, or what?" I asked.

"You don't need anything," said the X-ray technician. "It's only a
few steps down the hall."

Believe it or not, I was starting to get used to standing around naked
so people could see me with Lisa's shaved pussy where my cock and
balls should have been. The strangeness of being nude in the
examining room had worn off too. Still, the X-ray technician's total
lack of surprise seemed odd. I dampened a paper towel under the sink
and wiped off Lisa's pussy.

"Are you familiar with our case?" I asked.

"Oh yes, I've seen several cases similar to yours. In fact, I was
affected myself. You two are actually lucky."

"People keep telling me how lucky I am to have lost my cock," I
complained. "I don't buy it."

Lisa dampened a paper towel for herself and wiped off my cock.

"I know what you mean," said the technician, "but it could have been a
lot worse." He moved his hands from behind his back and I noticed a
metal prosthesis at the end of his right arm.

"My name is Andy Huandia," he continued. He pronounced his last name
to rhyme with his first. "I was massaging my fiancee's pussy when the
change came."

"I take you had two hands, then?" Lisa asked.

Andy nodded. I asked if he and his fiancee had gone through with the
marriage.

"No, we stopped getting along. She ended up with no sex organs and
wasn't capable of climax. I used to like it when she hugged me with
both arms and stroked my cock at the same time, but eventually she
went off and joined an art colony. She uses all three hands at once
to produce abstract art; it sells pretty well, I guess. She sent me
one; I hung it in my apartment."

"What do you do now?" I asked.

"Well, I take out girls but most of them are turned off by my
prosthesis. It's not the sort of thing most women hope to be touched
with. Of course, I can still get into my ex-fiancee's pussy whenever
I want."

"Would you show us?" Lisa asked.

"I thought you were in a hurry," I reminded her.

"This will only take a minute," said Andy. He pulled up his sleeve,
loosened the cables, and pulled the cup of his artificial hand off his
arm. At the end of his wrist was a hairy pussy, pointing straight
out. He stroked the clitoris with his left hand and the vagina began
to moisten.

"Uh, that's enough," I suggested. "We have to meet someone at four
o'clock. It's three fifteen now."

"OK, let's get going," said Andy. He reattached his hand, opened the
door, and found the hallway empty. We ducked into the X-ray lab and
Andy picked up our chart.

"You can be first, Lisa. Just get up on the table and lay on your
back."

Andy made three exposures from various angles and then told Lisa she
could go back to the examining room and get dressed. He took three
exposures of me as well. When I got back to the examining room, Lisa
had her tank top and shorts back on and was tying her shoes. I put on
my shirt, panties, jeans, socks, and running shoes.

On the way out, I knocked on the back door of the receptionist's
office and said, "Wanda, it's Doug and Lisa. May we come in?"

I heard the lock click and opened the door. Wanda was standing behind
the door and I didn't see her until Lisa shut it. "What's up?" asked
Wanda through her cut-away blouse.

"We have some release forms for you. If a Dr. Allen Damihnd asks for
any medical information about us, please give it to him," I said.

"OK. Perhaps you should fill out a release form for your regular
physician also," said Wanda, handing us the paperwork. I sat at the
corner of Wanda's desk and started writing. Wanda sat in her desk
chair and donned a telephone headset; it was modified so the
microphone hung over her chest. I noticed a television monitor
displaying a picture of the waiting room.

"You certainly have adapted your surroundings to yourself," I
remarked.

"Oh yes, we have a TV camera and intercom station in every room,"
Wanda explained. "It saves me from having to get dressed and from
walking around trying to communicate by sign language. Let me show
you." Wanda punched a button and announced, "Mr. Flascher, please go
to examining room three."

A well-built guy wearing a T-shirt and exercise shorts stood up and
left the waiting room. Wanda punched another button and the TV
monitor displayed examining room three. Flascher removed his outer
clothes and sat on the examining table wearing only a jock strap.

"Do you always monitor the patients this closely?" I asked Wanda.

"It depends," she answered. Winking at me, she continued, "I hope you
both enjoyed your first visit with the doctor. Please cum again."

Chapter 17. New Measurements

We were silent on the way to meet Ada Kamp. I began to think Lisa and
I really were lucky; at least, we weren't as unlucky as the others
we'd met. On the other hand, the general population wasn't likely to
be as understanding as Dr. Bohnes, Wanda, or Andy Huandia. These
people and others like Claude and Renee Storm obviously banded
together for support. We wouldn't find others like ourselves back in
Chicago.

I wondered what Allen Damihnd could discover that would help us. If
there was some Indian legend that could help, wouldn't Claude Storm
have known about it? Everyone certainly believed that repeated
episodes in the cavern could only make things worse. What if I took a
cue from the Bohnes's and had sex with a man? Would I want Ace
Deesi's cock between my legs? I'd look normal but I'd feel even
stranger knowing I had the cock of another man (let alone, a man with
unusual sexual tastes).

What if Lisa exchanged organs with DiDi Deesi? Would I want to fuck
DiDi's stolen pussy using Ace's stolen cock? I didn't think I could
live with those feelings. Coping with life in our current state
seemed to be the best approach to a bad situation.

Finally, we reached the wilderness parking lot. It was just after
four o'clock. I drove up and down the rows until Lisa sighted a jeep
with a zebra paint job. I parked a few spaces away and found Ada
waiting behind the wheel.

I walked toward the jeep and introduced myself. "Hi, I'm Doug Trents
and this is Lisa Kahr. Are you Ada Kamp?"

"Yes, I'm Ada. Dr. Damihnd told me to meet you here and survey a site
you found." Ada dismounted her jeep and looked me over. At five foot
eleven, she presented an imposing figure. She was about thirty-five
years old, blonde, and quite tan in the earthy way of those who spend
their lives outdoors. Her face was high boned and attractive with no
makeup. She had a well-proportioned frame and obviously firm muscles.
She wore a wide brimmed canvas hat, a khaki shirt with epaulettes,
black cuffed shorts, wool socks, and hiking boots.

"I have a lot of equipment. Do you mind helping?" Ada asked.

"Sure, let's go," I answered.

Ada unloaded two camera bags, a back pack, a tripod, and one
additional equipment case. "Doug, please take the camera bags. Lisa,
take the back pack. I'll take the solar instruments," Ada ordered.
The solar instruments were clearly the biggest load but Ada wanted to
be in charge and I let her have her way. It was well I did; halfway
to the crevice I was tiring badly while Ada didn't seem to be working
at all. We stopped for a few minutes, during which Ada asked if I
wanted her to take one camera bag. "No, I'm fine," I replied, but we
had to stop and rest again before reaching the crevice.

We showed Ada the footholds for scaling the wall to the pyramid
cavern. Ada took the back pack from Lisa, climbed up, and unpacked a
nylon rope. She tossed down one end and called out, "Doug, please
attach one of the camera bags and I'll pull it up." She used the same
procedure for the second bag and then asked, "Is this the entrance?"

"Yes. Do you want me to show the way?" Lisa answered.

"No. I'll go in alone. Don't follow me." We heard her take more
things out of the back pack, then silence.

With nothing to do but wait, I realized I was thirsty from the hike.
Lisa said she felt the same so I climbed the wall, looked inside the
back pack, and found a canteen. I called, "Here, catch!" to Lisa,
tossed her the canteen, and climbed back down. As I swung my legs
over the edge, I could see the flashes from Ada's camera equipment.

Lisa and I didn't have much to say. Neither of us liked being there,
fearing more changes. After about thirty minutes, Anna called down to
us. "Sorry, but I didn't bring enough film. Could one of you run
back to the tourist center and buy three rolls of 36-exposure color
print film?"

"Sure," I answered. "Will you be OK?" I asked Lisa.

"Okey dokey," she said. "Get something to drink, too."

It took about 45 minutes to buy the film and three Diet Pepsi's. When
I got back to the crevice, no one was around. I climbed to the cavern
entrance and found the backpack and camera bags still there. Calling
into the cavern produced no response. Finally, I screamed, "Lisa!" at
the top of my lungs and received a distant reply.

"We're on out way back. Wait," boomed Ada's deep feminine voice.

Five minutes later, Lisa and Ada descended from the rocks above the
cavern entrance. Lisa had the tripod on a sling over her shoulder and
Ada was somehow carrying the solar instruments. "Almost done," Ada
announced. She took the film and one of the Diet Pepsi's, then re-
entered the cavern. "Don't follow me," she warned. The camera
flashes resumed.

"Let's go down," Lisa suggested.

As we descended, I asked Lisa what she and Lisa had been doing above
the cavern entrance.

"Ada needed exact latitude and longitude of the site. She couldn't
get a sighting from the ledge," Lisa explained. "We also found where
the chimney appears outside. There are more carvings and pictographs
around it. I had to go back and get Ada's camera while she took
sightings. Ada also measured the exact slant and direction of the
chimney."

Lisa was silent for a moment, then told me something else. "Ada made
a pass at me. She's a lesbian."

"Maybe you two could swap crotches," I suggested.

She looked hurt. "I'd rather have your cock than someone else's
pussy. Does she turn you on or something?"

"No, especially not now. Earlier today I was thinking we could both
swap organs with someone else and get back to normal like Dr. Bohnes.
He's still not really himself, though. Anyway, I don't want us to
have sex with somebody else's organs. I'd rather stay as we are."

"Doug, I love you," said Lisa.

"I love you too," I replied.

It was almost dark when Ada appeared back on the ledge. "Heads up,
folks!" she called as she lowered the tripod. This was followed by
the remaining equipment and then Ada herself.

"Are we leaving anything behind?" she asked.

"No, I've got the soda cans right here," I said. We took up the same
loads we came with and hiked back to the Jeep. Thankfully, the return
route was downhill.

"OK, I'll give my data to Dr. Surtz in the morning. Good luck to both
of you; I hope Dr. Damihnd can help," Ada said. She paused, then
asked, "What's it like? Do you mind if I ask?"

"Actually, I do mind. Our personal situation in no concern of yours.
Thanks for your assistance," I responded.

"OK, perhaps we'll meet again," Ada said as she loaded her Jeep. Lisa
and I returned to the rental car.

"Hell of a long day!" I remarked. "Do you want dinner, Lisa?"

"I should eat, but once we get back to the hotel I won't want to go
out. I don't want to clean up and eat at the hotel restaurant,
either. Find someplace casual."

I found a neighborhood restaurant near the Gateway Lodge and we ate
quickly. Back at the hotel, we stripped off our clothes, showered one
at a time, and packed our bags. My laundry had been returned folded,
so packing didn't take long. I called the desk to request a wake-up
call and moments later Lisa and I were sound asleep.

Chapter 18. Parting Tuesday, Week 2

Tuesday morning was refreshingly normal. The wake-up call came at
five thirty. I shaved my face, started my shower, pissed, and washed.
I dressed in normal business attire except for a clean pair of cotton
panties no one would see. I put my bags in the car while Lisa
showered. She put on the second pair of men's jeans from Sunday plus
her Western belt, blouse, and boots. Except for her jacket, all her
other clothes amazingly fit into the gym bag.

At checkout, the clerk asked if we were going home or continuing to
another destination. Lisa said she was visiting relatives and I
mentioned my plans to continue toward San Francisco. The clerk
mentioned that many of the hotels in San Francisco had been
overbooking and offered to confirm my reservation. Sure enough, I
would have been turned away. The clerk booked me into The Open Palms,
another hotel in the same area, and I tipped him five bucks.

Even with the brief delay, we hit the road just after six and reached
Albuquerque International by seven thirty. I turned in the car and we
ate breakfast quickly in a coffee shop on the concourse. I gave Lisa
the name and number of The Open Palms and she wrote out the number of
the Buckskin Family Resort.

Lisa's flight left first. We walked together to her gate and chatted
about nothing until the agent announced that boarding was about to
begin. We held each other and kissed, promising to call each other as
soon as we got back to Chicago. Lisa's pussy started to get moist,
and through my pants I could feel my cock starting to stiffen. We
pulled apart, said good-bye, and Lisa headed down the ramp. It's a
strange feeling to know your cock is about to be thousands of miles
away from you.

I found my gate, bought a paper and coffee, and sat down to wait.
After half an hour I had to use the men's room; no more urinals for
me, I sighed. The guy in the next stall might have seen my panties;
we left our stalls at the same time and he sure gave me a strange
look. Fuck him, I thought. I could have, too.

Boarding was in progress when I got back to the gate. I joined the
line, found my seat, and took a nap. The flight wasn't direct and I
had to change planes in Las Vegas. I used the men's room and got
another strange stare. Oh well!

I rented a car at SFO, drove to San Carlos, and met my client, Chip
Bildehr, right on time. We talked shop until four o'clock and then
Chip invited me to play tennis.

"I don't know, Chip, I've been having problems with my groin," I said.

"Yeah, that's what your message said. Are you feeling any better
today? We can talk more about your proposal after we play."

Playing tennis was something I usually tried to arrange, but that day
I couldn't risk being seen in the shower. "Chip, I've never used this
hotel before and I'm not sure they hold reservations after six
o'clock. Nobody's perfect, I guess. Can I check in and meet you at
the club later?"

"Sure, we'll play at six o'clock and then have a drink. I'll make
reservations," Chip said.

My intention was to play golf with Chip, so I hadn't brought any
tennis clothes. I drove to The Open Palms, checked in, and asked for
directions to a pro shop. It didn't take long to reach Chip's club,
even though I had to stop and buy a racquet, shorts, and a knit shirt
on the way. I checked in as a personal guest and got directions to
the court Chip had reserved. He arrived right on time and I let him
beat me in two close sets.

"Good match, Doug. Let's hit the showers," said Chip.

"I'm running late, Chip. Are we too funky for the bar?"

Chip slapped me on the shoulder. "Nobody who pays the dues I pay will
ever get called funky," he laughed. "Let's have a drink!"

After two drinks and much discussion, Chip agreed that my firm could
investigate MicroMind's operation and submit bids. I could spend the
next three days taking a plant tour and speaking with the relevant
department chiefs. Mission accomplished!

I left Chip's tennis club in a wonderful mood. I didn't worry about
avoiding club showers forever; I was just glad I'd done my job well
for one day. I was tired and didn't feel like having a big dinner, so
I stopped at McDonald's and bought a Big Mac and fries to go.

Back at The Open Palms, the message light on my phone was blinking.
The desk clerk told me that Lisa had phoned and wanted me to call back
immediately. It was already late in Houston but Lisa's message
sounded urgent. I found the number Lisa gave me at breakfast and
dialed.

"Buckskin Family Resort," a voice answered.

"Hello, my name is Doug Trents. I received a message to call Lisa
Kahr at this number."

"Hello, Doug; I'm Katie Kahr, Lisa's mother. Just a minute: I'll get
her."

A minute passed, then I heard Lisa's voice: "Doug, I can't possibly
stay here. I've bought a ticket to San Francisco that leaves early
tomorrow morning. Can you meet me at the airport?"

"Sure, I guess so," I answered. "If you're just having an argument
with your mother, though, this seems a little drastic. Are you sure?"

"Doug, I am perfectly sure. I cannot be seen in this place. My
parents are running a nudist camp!"

Chapter 19. News from the Front Wednesday, Week 2

Lisa gave me her flight number and arrival time. She was very upset.
I promised to meet her at the airport, then she hung up. Her parents
didn't seem like the type to be nudists, but then again I'd never
known a nudist. How was I to know what nudists were like? I finished
my Big Mac and undressed. I felt sorry for Lisa, having to cope with
this unexpected development.

In the morning I pretty much followed my normal traveling routine;
wake-up call, shave, shower, piss, shower, dress, eat, drive, meet the
client. What's the matter with me, I thought, have I developed a
secret hate for toilets? Were the good old days really that good?

At MicroMind, I spoke with Chip Bildehr and explained I'd been called
away for most of the afternoon. He was understanding and began
setting up the plant tour as we agreed the night before. The
assistant production manager walked me through the plant until noon,
when I took him out for an expensive lunch. It never hurts to wine
and dine the client. After lunch I dropped the guy off at the plant
entrance and headed to the airport. Lisa's flight was on time and she
was one of the first people to come out of the gate.

"Oh Doug, thanks for being here," she gasped. She was wearing the
same clothes as when she left Santa Fe; they looked as if she'd slept
in them. She also needed a shower.

"No problem," I answered. "Are you hungry? No? Well, let's get to
the car, then we can talk." I took her gym bag and we silently walked
out to the car.

"I had no idea your parents were nudists," I began.

"Well, neither did I," said Lisa. "I guess we were pretty relaxed
around the house. We never dressed just to run between the bedroom
and the bathroom. When it was warm, everybody slept nude. At those
times, any occasion normally suitable for pajamas was suitable
without. A few times, on remote beaches, we all went skinny dipping.
We weren't nudists, though."

It occurred to me that maybe a family didn't need a membership card to
be nudists. "Well, it sounds like seeing your parents nude is no big
surprise."

"No, it isn't. Having them see me is no big deal either. Hundreds of
people see me showering nude at the fitness salon. But that's when I
had my pussy. Now I look like a freak show!"

I understood Lisa's feelings perfectly. Until she had to face her
parents, having my cock had been an amusing adventure. Only now had
she begun to feel like a misfit.

"Maybe Dr. Damihnd or Dr. Bones will discover something that can help
us," I suggested. Lisa was silent for a while, then I asked,
"Couldn't you have left your clothes on? I don't think your parents
would kick you out."

"Walking around with clothes on would have been extremely
conspicuous," Lisa answered. "I couldn't claim shyness with my
parents after being nude around them all my life! One woman was
wearing shorts because of her period; I thought about doing that but I
still couldn't take a shower."

"Why not?"

"They just have one community shower. I mean, why hide behind a wall
from people who see you nude all day?"

We were almost at the hotel. "Well, you can use my shower all you
want. I promise I won't laugh at my cock," I said. "Anyway, now that
you're here, what do you want to do?"

"Right now, I want to shower and take a nap. Mostly, though, I just
need to be with you," said Lisa.

"That's fine. By the way, I love you," I said.

"I love you, too," Lisa replied.

At the hotel, Lisa showered and napped as expected. I went down to
the lobby and telephoned Chip Bildehr and some other people at
MicroMind to set up meetings for Thursday morning. At five o'clock a
concierge came on duty. I asked her where to get a good late dinner.

"What mood and cuisine are you looking for?" she asked.

"Quiet, romantic, and no red meat," I answered. "Nearby, if
possible."

"I know just the place. It's called Cho Pynn Bou Qit, but it's not
Oriental. Turn left in front of The Open Palms, drive past the mall,
and watch for it on the right. Shall I make a reservation for you?"

"Yes, for two at nine o'clock. My name is Doug Trents."

The concierge dialed a number. "Hello, Natasha, this is Zoe. I need
a reservation for two at nine. Great, the name is Doug Trents.
Thanks!"

"All set for nine o'clock," Zoe said to me.

I thanked Zoe, bought a newspaper, and slipped into my room. Lisa was
still asleep. The room was warm and she'd kicked the covers off her
naked body. I sat down by the window and switched on the table lamp
to read. It was hard to keep my mind on the news with Lisa's
beautiful body reclined just a few feet away. The sight of my cock
between her legs had begun to seem familiar: something that made her
unique.

I read an article about some new government regulations then looked up
at Lisa. Even though she was sound asleep, my cock had become quite
erect. I could see her eyes moving under her lids; obviously, she was
having some kind of dream. She rolled onto her back and my cock
pointed straight up. I still had my suit pants on, but I opened my
belt and zipper. With my hand inside my panties, I began to stroke
Lisa's smooth pussy. My eyes were fixed on Lisa and my erect cock. I
had no way of knowing how my cock felt, but Lisa's pussy felt great.

The feeling in Lisa's clitoris reminded me of how my cock used to
feel. Lisa must have been having quite a dream, because my cock
abruptly began shooting cum. I intensified my stroking and received
an intense wave of release. Lisa rolled over and continued sleeping.
I headed for the bathroom to wipe up her sopping pussy.

My pants were damp with pussy juice so I left them on a chair, removed
my tie, and put on some jeans. Suddenly, I realized that Lisa didn't
have an evening dress suitable for a romantic dinner. She was still
asleep, so I decided to surprise her with a gift. I found the yellow
sun dress in her gym bag and noted it was a size nine. I picked up my
wallet and headed for the mall.

I found what seemed to be the best department store and headed for the
women's department. The evening dresses seemed rather dowdy, but a
clerk saw me frowning and asked if she could help.

"I'm looking for an evening dress in size nine," I said.

"That's not your size," she replied.

"Right, it's for my fiancee," I explained. They must get some strange
people in that store.

"Well, size nine would be in the Juniors department, not Women's," she
explained, pointing toward another part of the store.

"This isn't for a high school girl," I replied.

"Women's sizes come in Juniors, Misses, and Women's," explained the
clerk. "Size nine is a Juniors size."

This made no sense to me but I went in the direction the clerk
pointed. I picked out a black sleeveless dress with silver sequins on
the top and a short fluffy skirt. It seemed expensive but right then
anything to cheer Lisa up was worth it. The sales clerk asked, "Will
there be anything else?"

"I don't know; my fiancee and I arrived in town unexpectedly and I
want to buy her a complete outfit. What else does she need?"

"Oh my, well, I suppose some dark hose, shoes, purse, and lingerie."

"Would white shoes be OK?" I asked. "I know she has some white pumps,
but I don't know her size."

"Well, that would be OK if you buy white hose," she said. "Does she
need a slip?"

"She hasn't got one, but I don't know if she needs one. Does she?"

"With white hose she does," said the clerk. "Here, let me give you a
list. You need white panty hose, a black size nine full length mini
slip, and a black bra if she doesn't have one. What about accents?
Purse? Necklace? Earrings?"

I have little recall about what happened next but somehow I made it to
all the right departments and bought a bunch of women's underwear and
accessories. My desire to please up Lisa drove me on. I bought panty
hose and a little purse in white. The slip and bra were black. Some
black and silver earrings caught my eye. Somewhere I noticed a
display of plain cotton panties my size and bought three. Altogether
I spent about three hundred dollars. I was going to really need the
commission from the MicroMind deal.

Mission hopefully completed, I resolved never again to shop for
women's clothes. I got back to the hotel at seven thirty and Lisa
woke as I entered. She was still uncovered but the wet spot on the
sheets had dried. "Surprise, I've made dinner reservations and bought
you a new outfit," I announced.

Lisa sat up cross-legged, looked around for the covers, shrugged, and
then glanced back at me. "What? Dinner?"

"We have dinner reservations at nine. I bought you a new outfit."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that. What on earth did you buy?"

I began opening the packages by removing the black evening dress.
"Doug, that's really cute. Are you sure it's my size?"

"Well, it's the same size as the yellow sun dress you bought in Santa
Fe," I answered. "I'm not so sure about the rest of it. Why don't
you try it on?"

Lisa exited to the bathroom and I could hear piss streaming into the
toilet. Next, I heard the sink running and walked over to look. She
had finished washing her face and was soaping up the wash cloth again.
"I hope you're hungry," I said.

"Yes, I am. The only thing I've eaten today is that rotten airline
junk." She put the wash cloth under my balls and started scrubbing
the whole area. "Your male equipment builds up a quite a scent
sometimes. Did it always seem that way to you?"

I decided not to tell Lisa about her wet dream. "I always thought I
smelled like myself. What can a guy say?" I answered.

"Did you buy me any new underpants?" Lisa asked.

"No, you hated the last ones. What happened to them?"

"They need to be washed. Let's see what you bought," Lisa said as she
started dumping out bags. She spread all the items out on the bed and
began cutting off tags. "Actually, you did pretty well. I see you
didn't encumber me with a heavy bra!"

Lisa held up the black bra I'd bought. There was almost nothing to
it: just a few straps and some stretchy transparent fabric that
slanted across the breasts. "I wasn't sure of the size so I bought
one that would stretch to fit," I lied.

Lisa put on the bra and looked at herself. Her nipples showed plainly
through the sheer cups; it was sexy as hell. My cock started to rise.
"I see you like yourself in it," I teased.

"Damn, it's embarrassing to be so visible!" Lisa exclaimed.
"Actually, I was thinking about you. Oh, you bought built-in
panties!"

This was news to me. "What do you mean?"

"These pantyhose have a panty liner woven in to them. I won't need
underpants after all!" Lisa opened the package and pulled on the
hosiery. They were opaque around the hips but the bulge of my cock
and balls was clearly outlined. Lisa looked in the mirror, stuck her
hand inside the panty hose, and rearranged my cock until it was
comfortable. She regained a normal feminine appearance after pulling
the slip over her head. "Aren't you going to change?" she asked.

"Uh, sure, I was having so much fun watching that I forgot." I
removed my shirt and jeans and put on a pair of my new panties, a
white dress shirt, black suit, and red tie. All the while, Lisa was
fussing with her hair. It always surprised me that she could spend so
much time on such short hair. "Almost ready?" I asked.

Lisa finished with her hair and reached for the dress. It fit her
perfectly and was shorter than I expected: well above the knees. She
looked great. Lisa put on the earrings and her white pumps, dumped a
few things in the purse, and declared herself ready. It was eight
thirty.

Chapter 20. Some Romantic Evening

Cho Pynn Bou Qit was located on the first floor of a large office
building. The hostess and manager were Vietnamese but the cuisine was
French. A large sign proclaimed "Finest French Food In San Carlos!"
A sense of deja vu puzzled me.

The interior of the restaurant was decorated in French country style.
It was dimly lit, and candles burned at each table. The background
music was classical. It was fully as romantic as Zoe promised.

"Hello. My name is Doug Trents. We have reservations for two at nine
o'clock," I told the hostess.

"Ohh yas Mista Twench. Wee haf yaw tabow," she replied. Her name
badge confirmed that this was Natasha, whom Zoe, the concierge, had
spoken to. Somehow, I didn't think Natasha's family had been on our
side of the war. An overpowering curiosity seized me and I walked
over to the manager.

"We haven't been here before but I really like the atmosphere; good
job!" I said. Of course, I really just wanted to see his name tag.
My worst fears were confirmed: the tag read "Hi! I'm Boris and I'll be
your manager tonight!" Actually, I don't mind a practical joke if
it's harmless and well done.

Natasha led us to our seats and handed us the menus. An oriental girl
in her late teens approached the table and said, "Hi, I'm Rocky. I'll
be your waitress tonight."

"Where's Bullwinkle?" I asked.

"Do you mean Bull, the door guard with the bald head? He only works
weekends," Rocky answered. "Would you like a cocktail?"

"Actually, I would, but I don't think you can help me. I'll just have
coffee tonight," I answered.

"Lime and Perrier for me," answered Lisa.

Overpowering curiosity seized me again. On a hunch, I asked a trick
question. "Wasn't there another girl named Rocky who used to work
here?"

"Actually, there were two others before me. I'm Rocky III. My friend
Roxanne Balboa is thinking about applying for a job here next week.
She's tired of working at Apollo's. Shall I get your drinks?"

"Please," insisted Lisa.

"Lisa, tell me about Buckskin Family Resort," I suggested.

"It's just a campground, Doug. There are tent areas, trailer hookups,
and a few permanent buildings. They have a nice beach, tennis courts,
a pool, a hot tub, and a playground for the kids."

"Nobody wears clothes for any of this?" I asked.

"No, if they wanted to wear clothes, they would have gone somewhere
else," Lisa answered with surprise.

"What's in the permanent buildings?" I asked.

"Just regular stuff, like any other campground: office, store,
recreation hall, toilets, showers," Lisa explained. "The toilets are
private for men and women, but the sinks and showers are open. People
are supposed to clean up in the shower before going in the pool or hot
tub."

"Do they have orgies in the evening, or what?"

"Doug, it's a family campground."

"Then why do people go there?" I asked. "Are they exhibitionists? Do
they get off looking at the other naked people?"

"No, Doug, the idea isn't to gawk or be seen. The campers are people
who simply like to be nude. Suppose you were going to be alone on an
island for a month. The temperature is warm and sunburn isn't a
problem. Would you wear clothes or not?"

"I'd probably wear clothes most of the time," I answered.

"Well, can you see that some people wouldn't?" Lisa asked.

"Yes, I imagine some people would stop wearing clothes," I admitted.

"There you are. Those are the folks who visit Buckskin Family
Resort."

"I hate wearing clothes at the beach," declared Rocky III as she
delivered our drinks. "I gave away all my swimsuits last year. Are
you ready to order?"

Lisa chose Coq au Vin and I had Bouillabaisse. Rocky suggested a
bottle of Rose d'Anjou and I went with the flow. As Rocky sauntered
away, I remarked that I wouldn't mind visiting the beach of her
choice.

"You'd create quite a sensation, Doug. We both would. What are we
going to do?"

"Tomorrow and Friday I have to be with my client, then we'll go home.
After that, I just don't know," I admitted.

"Mera and I were thinking of opening a second salon. Maybe I'll do
that and stop leading classes," said Lisa. Meredith Thonn was Lisa's
partner in Fit & Trim Salons.

"Are you ready for a desk job?" I asked.

"Well, I'm not ready to wear a leotard in front of twenty women," she
replied.

We discussed Lisa's business prospects for quite a while. Fit & Trim
was turning away customers every week because classes were full, but
demand could fall off sharply if another salon opened in the same
neighborhood. Lisa and Mera couldn't be sure whether they'd found a
superior way of running a salon or whether they'd just been lucky in
avoiding competition.

Rocky arrived with our entrees and wine. Both were delicious and we
ate in silence.

"Doug, do you think we need to make any legal changes?" Lisa asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I was wondering if I'm still legally female. You might not be
legally male, either. There's at least one test we'd both fail; maybe
we need to get our drivers' licenses changed or something."

"I'd have major problems cashing a check with a female drivers'
license," I said. "A guy can't be dropping his pants all over the
country to prove he's technically a female. Most of all, I certainly
don't think of myself as female."

"Well, I don't think of myself as a man, either," said Lisa.

I hailed Rocky and paid the check. In the lobby, Lisa announced,
"Time to make a stop." She went to the ladies' room and I visited to
the men's. To my surprise, she was waiting for me when I came out.
Her panty hose was missing.

"This is a first. Usually, you're the slow poke," I noted as we left
the restaurant.

"I seem to be faster but messier now," said Lisa. "Your cock dripped
on my panty hose when I was shaking it off."

"At least you don't have to close the stall, remove one shoe and pants
leg, sit, wipe, stand, and dress. What a routine! I think I'm
actually slower than a woman," I said.

"Practice makes perfect," teased Lisa.

"You, too; where are your panty hose?"

"Casualty of war," Lisa answered. "I thought of wadding them up and
putting them in my purse, but I'm sure they would have dried with a
stain anyway."

"Isn't it rather breezy?"

"It sure is. I'm freezing. Where's the car?"

Fortunately, we had arrived. I opened the car door for Lisa and got a
rod shot as she slid in. My cock was shriveled up about as much as it
could be. "Hurry up and start the car. This seat is cold," Lisa
urged.

I started the car and waited for the engine to warm up before turning
on the heater. Lisa spread her legs apart and leaned forward to get
the maximum effect. "I should have bought you something warm to
wear," I apologized.

"That's OK. You spent a lot as it was," said Lisa. "I don't have
space to pack it all. Is there room in your suitcase?"

"I left home with clothes for two weeks. My bags are stuffed. Maybe
you need to go shopping tomorrow," I said.

"You're right. I need to wash clothes, too. Can I keep the car?"

"No problem; just drop me off at MicroMind in the morning and pick me
up at five o'clock."

Back at the hotel, I parked near the front entrance. As we walked
through the lobby, Lisa noticed the bar and went in to look. It was
finished in a 1930's deco style with lots of draperies and upright
conical lamps. Several bas-relief castings decorated the walls. The
bar itself was finished in pecan with three narrow brass rails along
the edge. The stools had round leather seats with no backs and pecan
legs that matched the bar. Lisa took a bar stool and invited me to
join her.

The bar maid had bobbed hair and wore a short, draped, low-cut dress.
A long necklace emphasized her neckline. A brass name badge, attached
somehow to her shoulder strap, identified her as Bonnie. Lisa ordered
a daiquiri and I took straight Scotch.

After a moment, I glanced at Lisa and noticed something strange in the
way she sat. It took me a full minute to realize what it was: the
edge of Lisa's dress hung over the back of the bar stool. She was
sitting bare-assed on the leather seat!

"Would you like something to put under that?" asked Bonnie.

"Huh? Oh, like what: a towel?" I replied.

"Would you like a coaster for your Scotch? Your glass is sweating
quite a bit," Bonnie said.

"My ass is sweating quite little," said Lisa. "We just came in, and
it was chilly outside."

"I'll bring a coaster," said Bonnie.

"This is really unique, Doug. Did you enjoy the feeling of resting
your balls on real leather?" Lisa asked.

"I never wore a short dress into a bar, so I never tried it. No more
drinks for you, lady!"

Lisa squirmed on the bar stool. She was sitting with legs apart and
her dress pulled down between them. Her hem line fell past the seat
on each side and in back. "How about some pussy, big guy?" she
pleaded.

"Don't be cocky. Believe it or not, I've had non-stop pussy for the
past four days," I replied.

Lisa sucked on her daiquiri. "What about me?"

"I imagine you've had all the cock you can handle."

"Want another?" asked Bonnie.

"One is enough," answered Lisa

"Charge the room," I told Bonnie, showing my key.

"Look out, room, here we come," said Lisa.

"Your slip is showing," I told Lisa, trying to calm her down.

"That's the check, dummy," Lisa said.

Lisa tried to slide off the bar stool. It stuck to her bare skin and
fell over. As Lisa bent at the waist to pick it up, Bonnie got a
clear view of everything under Lisa's dress. This is the end, I
thought.

"Oh, you're pre-op!" said Bonnie. "Who's your doctor?"

"Saul Bohnes, of Santa Fe, New Mexico. Who's your's?" replied Lisa.

"Dr. Slicer, Dr. Peter Slicer, of La Cloma. He's done wonders for
me," replied Bonnie.

"Let's get out of here," I urged.

"Yes, I'm afraid it's closing time. Here's Robin to pick me up," said
Bonnie.

Someone had just entered the bar wearing a short sleeved white shirt,
a red vest, and green shorts. It had to be Robin.

"Where's Batman?" I asked.

"Robin hasn't played baseball since high school," Bonnie replied.

"See you around, Bonnie," said Lisa.

"Sure, call me tomorrow. My name is Bonnie Banks, of La Cloma. I
live on High Road. If I'm not home, try calling Robin's apartment on
Loah Road. We're brother and sister; just remember Robin Banks."

"That's a risky way to make a living," I observed.

With that, Lisa gathered herself up and left the bar. I hurried after
her and caught up in the lobby. She was a little tipsy and didn't
walk in her usual lithe gait. On the way back to room we passed a
stairway leading down and she took it. "That's the wrong way," I
pointed out.

"Let's go exploring," Lisa insisted. She rounded a corner at the
bottom of the stairs and I rushed to keep up. By accident, we had
discovered the hotel fitness center, complete with workout room,
glassed-in pool, hot tub, steam room, and lockers. A sign indicated
"Open 6:00 AM to 10:00 PM -- No Lifeguard On Duty". It was almost
midnight and no one was around.

"Let's go swimming," said Lisa excitedly.

"We don't have suits," I reminded her.

"Nobody's here except us chickens. I promise not to tell your
mother," Lisa replied. She pulled on the door into the pool area and
discovered it was locked.

"Maybe we can get in through the locker room," she said heading in
that direction. The men's locker room door was locked but someone had
left the women's door open. "Let's go," said Lisa.

"What if someone comes? I don't want to get arrested for snooping in
the women's locker room," I replied.

Lisa grabbed my by the hand and pulled me in. "Silly, nobody's coming
at this time on a Wednesday night. If anybody does, you can just show
'em my pussy. Let's go!"

The room looked very much like a men's locker room, with rows of
benches and lockers. The showers were individual stalls rather than
an open area and, of course, there were no urinals. There were two
makeup tables near the sinks. A vending machine offered tampons,
pads, and (surprisingly) condoms. As I expected, the door between the
women's locker room and the pool was locked.

"I have to pee," announced Lisa, walking into the toilet area. Not
bothering to close the stall door, she lifted the front of her dress,
aimed my cock, and pissed. I went through the lengthy routine of
pulling one pants leg over my shoe, removing one side of my panties,
sitting, wiping, and dressing. During this routine, I could hear Lisa
walking around outside.

"Come here! Look what I found!" she called as I was fastening my
belt. I left the toilet stall and followed her voice. "Where are
you?" I called out.

"I'm in hot water, now!" Lisa's voice replied. A passageway connected
the locker room to the hot tub area. Lisa had pulled off the cover,
started the aerator, and stepped in. Her shoes and dress were on a
bench by the wall. She still wore the little black bra I bought
earlier; it was soaked and totally transparent. Lisa's pussy started
to moisten.

"Are you cumming or what?" asked Lisa. I was still afraid someone
would find us but Lisa sure looked good in the hot tub with her wet
see-through bra. I dumped my clothes on the bench next to Lisa's and
stepped into the hot bubbling water. Lisa put her arms around my neck
and kissed me. I wondered for a moment if my cock was hard, but then
felt it poking against my stomach. Lisa's pussy felt great.

We kissed quite a while, constantly exploring each other's bodies. I
ran my hands over Lisa's shoulders, neck, sides, and hips. She
massaged my back all the way down to my butt. She held my neck and
floated while I stroked the inside of her thighs. Lisa put her head
on my shoulder and started kissing my neck. Moaning with pleasure,
she let go with one arm and traced down my chest and stomach to her
pussy. I followed the curve of her thigh up to my cock and grabbed
it. She stroked her pussy lips and clitoris for me as I fingered the
bottom of my cock for her.

I tried to pull Lisa's hips toward mine, but her knees hit the side of
the hot tub. She stood, grabbed my thighs, and pulled me closer. I
held the edge of the hot tub and floated as she aimed my cock into her
pussy. Lisa's pussy was well lubricated, and I felt no discomfort as
my cock entered it smoothly. Lisa tried holding me by the butt and
found her arms weren't long enough. I swallowed a mouthful of water
and got more in my nose. "This isn't working," I gasped.

Lisa pulled away, grabbed my thighs again, and lifted her pussy into
her face. A wave of sensation overcame me as she tongued her clitoris
and ground her chin into her outer lips. I tried to reach my cock but
couldn't. A jet spray was shooting directly at my butt and massaging
my asshole. My body went rigid as Lisa's pussy climaxed. Lisa kept
eating her pussy and driving me into orgasm for five minutes at least,
until I could barely breathe. I noticed I'd been shouting but
couldn't be sure what. I was exhausted and sat against the inside of
the hot tub.

"Now me," said Lisa. She pulled me away from the edge, floated on her
back, and wrapped her legs behind my back.

"What?" I asked.

"Fair is fair; eat me," said Lisa.

Never in my life had I sucked cock, and never did I want to. Yet,
there was my fiancee, floating right in front of me, asking me to
return her affection. How could I refuse? My cock was sticking
straight out of the water. I grabbed Lisa's ass and pulled my cock
toward my mouth. My eyes closed as I put my lips around it. I
thought back to the times Lisa had sucked me off and began my flicking
my tongue against the bottom of my cock. Lisa moaned in gratitude as
I rolled my tongue around the head. Using my hand, I stroked my balls
for her. I took a large breath, then pulled Lisa closer. My cock
head touched the top of my throat, setting off a muscular response.
Lisa gasped in ecstasy. I took conscious breaths through my nose
while pulling my cock toward the back of my mouth. My throat jerked
again and again. I kept tonguing the bottom of my shaft and working
my lips around the base. Lisa's body went rigid and I felt my cock
pulsing against my lips and tongue. Semen rolled uncontrollably down
my throat, but I didn't really taste anything. Lisa relaxed and my
cock felt softer to my tongue. We pulled apart.

"Whoa, you cock sucker. I can't take no more!" gasped Lisa.

"No endurance? That's a first for you," I teased. "It must be one
o'clock. Let's get going."

Lisa dunked under the water twice, then climbed out of the hot tub and
walked around the room. "Do you see any towels?" she asked.

I looked around and saw none. "Maybe in the locker room," I
suggested, climbing out.

Lisa squeezed water our of her hair, then shook off her arms and legs.
Nude, she began searching the area and opening any door that wasn't
locked. I shook off as much water as I could, but it was still
chilly. There were no towels anywhere.

"Hell with it, I'm almost dry anyway," said Lisa. She pulled on her
slip, picked up her shoes, dress, and purse, and proclaimed herself
ready to go. I put on my pants and shirt while Lisa turned off the
hot tub equipment. I was hoping to get back to the room unobserved
but there was no such luck. Just outside the locker room sat Bonnie
and Robin. They brought towels.

"Are you two finally done?" asked Bonnie.

"Done with what?" I asked, trying act like nothing had happened.

"Don't be coy. My cousin Sandy is a maid here and she leaves the
locker room open for me when we both work late. Well, good night!"
Bonnie said.

"I hope you enjoyed the hot tub. Please cum again," said Robin.

Chapter 21. Alter Ego Thursday, Week 2

Thursday began normally. The wake-up call came too soon; I did my
shave, shit, and shower act in a daze. Getting dressed was normal,
except that I wore a pair of cotton panties under my suit. Lisa threw
on her biker shorts and a long top, then drove me to MicroMind. My
breakfast was a Breakfast Burrito from the McDonald's drive through
window.

I spent most of the day reviewing MicroMind's manufacturing processes
with Chip Bildehr and Ron Smuthe, the assistant production manager.
We took a quick lunch in the company cafeteria. Later in the
afternoon, I went over past trends with Mark Atsart, who ran the
Measurements and Quality Assurance department. I told Mark and Chip
that I needed to check some facts with my Chicago office and would
meet with them after lunch Friday. Mark invited me to play nine holes
of golf but I begged off, again citing "groin problems". At quarter
to five I called Lisa at The Open Palms and asked to be picked up.

Lisa had a surprise for me when she picked me up; her hair was the
shortest I had ever seen it. Basically, she had a flat-top crewcut.
The very top and sides were mere stubble. Her outfit was new as well,
consisting of studded black bib shorts, a pink lycra bra, pink ankle
socks, and black studded low heel booties. She wore dark brown
lipstick, stark eye makeup, and two large chrome earrings on each
side. By squirming in the driver's seat, Lisa had worked the shorts
all the way up to her crotch. "Do you like it?" she asked.

Lisa's back, shoulders, sides, and legs were almost completely bare.
Small sections of fabric concealed almost nothing and emphasized
everything. Lisa's pussy was definitely getting damp. I replied,
"Yes, I like it a lot. Did you get tired of brushing your hair?"

"Bonnie's hair stylist talked me into it. He has a large selection of
very short styles to choose from. All the models wear hot, punky
fashions, too. How do like the earrings?" Lisa asked.

"They're fine, I guess. I never saw you wear more than one pair
before."

"Well, I had to get my ears pierced again to wear them. The guy at
the jewelry store wanted me to wear four or five pairs of earrings
plus a nose ring. Can you believe it? They also do nipples and pussy
lips."

"I take you just got the earrings?" I asked with some apprehension.

"Well, I did consider getting you a cock ring. I decided it might be
painful, though."

"I'm surprised you called Bonnie. You hardly know her," I observed.

"He seemed like a nice person, and he made several remarks that caught
my interest. We met for lunch at a place in La Cloma."

"You called Bonnie 'he'," I observed.

"His name used to be Barney, but he's in the process of changing his
sex. They're making him live several years as a woman before going
ahead with the final surgery."

"So Bonnie the barmaid has a cock under his dress! What did you two
roosters talk about all day?"

"I told Bonnie what happened to us and he told me about his program.
He showed me a great place to buy underwear and I bought a whole bunch
of interesting stuff. They have a mail order catalog, too. The same
district has all these neat clothes and Bonnie's hair dresser is right
there. I was due for a haircut; do you really like it?"

"Overall, I like the new look," I answered. "Tell me about this hair
salon."

"It's called Tress & Less and the owner calls himself the Yankee
Clipper. He never uses scissors, just electric clippers. The pierced
earring store was next door."

"Is this Yankee Clipper guy bald or something?" I asked.

"No, he has shoulder length hair and a beard. His wife is bald,
though. It's something that runs in her family; she lost all her hair
when she was four years old. She has no hair at all; not even
eyebrows. You'll meet her tonight."

"Are you taking me for a haircut?" I asked.

"No, Bonnie and Robin are having us over for dinner. They invited the
Clipper and Smooth, and Spike and Pokey Pearson. The Pearsons run the
jewelry shop."

"Which is which?" I asked.

"Huh? Oh, Smooth is Clipper's wife, Spike runs The Piercing Scream,
and Pokey is his wife. I thought I explained that," Lisa replied.

Suddenly, I felt out of place. "This isn't my usual type of crowd,
Lisa. I'd look out of place in a business suit, don't you think?"

"I bought you something. Trust me on this; you'll enjoy yourself if
you just let go."

We arrived at The Open Palms and Lisa parked near the front door. The
lobby was crowded but I don't think a single person failed to notice
Lisa as she strolled through in her tiny bib shorts, lycra bra, and
near-nothing haircut. I felt quite out of place walking beside her in
a business suit, and couldn't imagine what kind of outfit she had in
mind for me. Oh well, life with Lisa is never dull.

After reaching our room, Lisa started by checking her appearance in
the mirror. She frowned a little at her short haircut but perked up
again after rubbing her hand against the stiff ends. Next, she backed
away from the mirror and tried looking at herself at various poses.
"I didn't realize these shorts were so short in the back. It really
doesn't look as if I have much on, does it?"

"This was your idea," I reminded her.

"Maybe I should have worn more makeup or earrings, you know, to take
attention away from the rest of me. What do you think, Doug?"

"I think I need a drink," I said.

Lisa replied quickly. "As a matter of fact, I am prepared for any
weakness of character on your part, my love. Straight Scotch, coming
up!" Lisa opened her gym bag, pulled out a pint of J&B, unwrapped a
hotel glass, and poured out two fingers. To my relief, she handed it
to me rather than drinking it.

Fortified, I courageously inquired about my new outfit. Lisa handed
me a shopping bag and sat down to watch my reaction. Dumping out the
bag produced a strange assortment of articles; black nylon parachute
pants, a matching brimless hat, black sunglasses, two pictures of
snakes, a bottle of solvent, a pair of small gold ring earrings, a hat
pin, and some Nair hair remover.

"OK, I understand the pants, the hat, and the sunglasses. Where's my
shirt, and do you want to explain the rest of this stuff?"

"You don't need a shirt, and hairy chests are out. The snakes look
like tattoos, but they're temporary. Lots of men wear earrings these
days and they go with the outfit. Have I left anything out?"

"Just me, Lisa. This isn't my style at all. Can't we just cancel?"

Lisa stood up and slowly turned around twice, raising her arms and
stroking her short stiff hairs. Next, she faced away from me, touched
her toes, and looked pleadingly past her ankles at me. More than half
her butt was exposed. She stood back up, faced me, snapped her bra,
and then put her hands behind her neck.

"Are you sure you don't like this style at all?" Lisa asked,
continuing to undulate.

"If I go with the earring, don't I have to leave it in for two or
three weeks?" I asked.

"To keep a new piercing, you have to leave it in for six weeks. If
you change your mind, you can take it out anytime," said Lisa. "Your
body hair will grow back in no time. Anyway, don't you ever watch
MTV? None of the guys have chest hair. Trust me, Doug; it'll be fun
if you go with the flow."

"I don't work for MTV, Lisa. Well, at least the earring isn't very
big. This is the craziest stunt yet, but at least were not in Chicago
where somebody might know us. Where do I start?"

"Thanks, Doug; I appreciate it. Step one: get out of that suit!"

As I hung up my suit and stuffed my other clothes in a laundry bag,
Lisa removed her bib shorts and lycra bra to avoid staining them.
Nude, she took the bottle of Nair, marched me into the bathroom, and
spread the lotion all over my chest and back. She did her pussy too,
taking care not to get any lotion inside. Ten minutes later, the
lotion started to dry and Lisa applied another light coat. Finally,
she dragged a fingernail across my chest, leaving a trail of smooth
skin. "It's shower time!" she proclaimed.

My skin felt strangely smooth as I washed and dried. Looking in the
mirror, I noticed that my chest and back muscles looked more developed
than they did under a layer of hair. I flexed a few muscles and
watched myself in the mirror. Except for not having a cock, which I
was getting used to, I looked good!

When I entered the bedroom, Lisa stood up and slowly drew her
fingernail across my chest. Her pussy started to dampen, which felt
great, but I suggested we get on with the next step. Lisa had spread
the snake pictures on a plastic tray and began wiping one of them with
solvent. A minute later, she pressed it to my right arm and held it
in place. When she pulled the backing away, I had a red and green
serpent crawling from my elbow to my shoulder. She applied the other
snake over my left collarbone.

"I'm surprised you didn't get some of these for yourself," I remarked.

"I did. Will you help me?" Lisa asked.

She'd purchased a satyr for her arm and a stemmed rose for her thigh.
I applied them in the same way she did for me. Finally, I put on the
parachute pants, hat, sunglasses, and my normal running shoes. Lisa
donned the lycra bra and bib shorts, then picked up the hat pin. We
both wore the necklaces we bought from Claude Storm.

I looked in the mirror and was shocked by my own appearance. I hardly
looked like myself, but, to my surprise, I didn't look foolish either.
Unbelievably, I decided that I'd look better with an earring than
without. "How's your aim with that hat pin?" I asked Lisa.

"I did several girlfriends during high school and college," she
replied. "It only hurts a minute."

Lisa put a cork on one side of my ear and held the hat pin against the
other. Suddenly I felt a sharp pain as Lisa ran me through. There
was a second jolt as she removed the needle, then a third.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Well, earrings are sold by the pair. You might as well wear them
both. Hold still."

A moment later Lisa had removed the hat pin from the second hole and
inserted both earrings. She swabbed antiseptic around both holes with
a cotton ball. My ear throbbed.

"Let's wait a few minutes before we go," suggested Lisa. "I might
have to swab your ear again. How about another drink?"

"I could use a pain killer, yes," I replied.

Lisa bent over and poured two more fingers. I couldn't believe I was
doing this. Five minutes later my ear stopped bleeding and Lisa
cleaned it up one last time. Lisa took the car keys and we left the
room. I'd forgotten we'd parked outside the lobby; the whole place
must have watched us stroll through. Even after two Scotches, I was
glad to be hiding behind my sunglasses.

Chapter 22. Lifestyles

It took half an hour to reach Bonnie Banks's apartment. The evening
was warm and we drove with the windows down. Several carloads of
strange people waved at us; I waved back and enjoyed myself. Finally,
Lisa pulled onto High Road and parked near Bonnie's apartment. It was
an attractive complex with tile roof, adobe walls, fountains, and palm
trees. I looked around but no one was watching us. Bonnie's
apartment was on a second floor terrace. Lisa rang the doorbell.

"Oh, Lisa and Doug! You look great. Come in!" said Bonnie. He was
wearing a pink camisole with spaghetti straps, tap pants, and high
heels. He didn't seem at all bothered about standing in the doorway.

The apartment was large and well furnished in a feminine art deco
style. The living room walls were peach and had several stylish
paintings hanging on them. The furniture was aqua and deep orange,
with blonde wood trim. A book case held dozens of engineering books
and several stacks of trade papers. A couch and two easy chairs were
arranged along two walls and were supplemented by three dining room
chairs.

Robin was standing by the kitchen entrance wearing some men's shortie
lounging pajamas. He had a lighter build that I'd noticed in The Open
Palms bar. I also I noticed that his hairy legs, if shaved, would
look pretty good on a woman. The pajama tops were open to the waist,
revealing a thick mat of hair. He had a conservative haircut typical
for a young businessman.

Bonnie did the introductions. "Doug, this is Robin, my sister.
Robin, this is Doug, Lisa's fiancee. Spike and Pokey, this is Doug.
Doug, meet Spike and Pokey Pearson; they run The Piercing Scream."

So! Robin was a woman trying to become a man, and Bonnie was a man
trying to become a woman! They must have had some childhood!

Spike and Pokey Pearson got up from the couch. Spike wore jeans and
Pokey had cutoffs; they both wore black tank tops and several
necklaces. Spike had five or six earrings on each ear, plus a nose
ring.

It was hard to see Pokey's face because of all the metal. She had six
or seven earrings on each ear, all large and mostly not matching. To
keep them from being hidden, Pokey's black hair was clipped very short
on both sides, though it hung to her eyebrows in front and to her
waist in back. She had three nose rings: one on each side and one in
the middle. A chain connected the right nose ring to her right ear;
on the left, a three inch chain hung past her lips. Two three-inch
rods were pierced at an angle through her right cheek, entering the
skin and reappearing an inch or so later. She had a smooth, dark,
olive complexion against which the jewelry contrasted vividly.

"So, what do you to do?" asked Spike.

"I'm a marketing representative for Quixotic Designs. Lisa runs a
fitness salon," I answered.

"You don't look like a guy who spends nine to five in a suit. Don't
you feel confined inside that monkey suit all day?" asked Pokey. She
ran her fingernail across my chest. Her chromed nails were a full
inch long but the edges were smooth. Every finger had some sort of
ring on it. On her right wrist she wore a wide chain mail bracelet
with strands that fell onto the palm and back of her hand. On the
left she wore a wide solid bracelet and several narrow ones.

"Uh, actually, it doesn't bother me. I'm a little out of character
tonight, though," I admitted. Pokey was continuing to finger my chest
and Lisa's pussy was getting damp.

"Well, I win the bet," said Spike.

"What bet?" I asked.

Spike explained, "I bet Pokey that Lisa could get you to show up with
no shirt, tattoos, and two earrings. Pokey didn't think anybody could
get a corporate marketing rep to do that, fiancee or not."

Actually, I don't mind a practical joke if it's harmless and well
done. "What's the payoff?" I asked.

"Oh, I get to decorate Pokey some more. I'm thinking of a diamond
stud in her left cheek. What do you think, Doug?"

"I think you folks must have problems with airport metal detectors," I
answered. Pokey was still stroking my chest and Lisa's pussy was
getting hotter by the minute. "Let's sit down," I suggested to Lisa.

Lisa sat in an easy chair. I took the closest seat, which was at the
end of the couch. Pokey slid right next to me and began drawing
circles around my nipples with her fingernail. Her tank top tightened
when she sat down and I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra. There was
something else, though; extending below each nipple was the outline of
a metal ring. Pokey noticed me staring.

"Oh, yeah, I have pierced nipples. I lost those bets long ago -- I
can't even remember what they were about. Want to see? Here!" Pokey
stood and removed her tank top. A two-inch gold ring passed under
each aereola. Two tattooed serpents started somewhere inside her
cutoffs, rose intertwined to her breasts, and appeared poised to bit
each nipple. Pokey fetched a clip-on chain from her purse and
fastened each end to a nipple ring. "Spike likes my tits to be
connected when I'm topless," Pokey explained, throwing her tank top
toward the door. She sat next to me again, put her arm around my
shoulders, and resumed tracing circles on my chest.

Spike didn't seem threatened by any of this; he watched Pokey proudly
the whole time. Lisa winked with amusement as Pokey pressed her
breast against my chest. I was starting to feel the need for another
drink when the doorbell sounded.

Bonnie answered the door in his underwear again; it was the Yankee
Clipper and Smooth. Clipper wore riding pants, high boots, and a
leather vest with no shirt. Smooth was dressed all in black with red
trim; she wore cotton harem pants, a bolero jacket over a tight
fitting bodice, and a Spanish riding hat.

"Are we the last ones?" asked Clipper.

"Yes, everyone is here now. Doug and Lisa, meet Clipper and Smooth
Strand. Clipper and Smooth, this is Doug Trents and his fiancee, Lisa
Kahr," said Bonnie.

Smooth opened Bonnie's front closet and hung up her bolero jacket;
this left her back bare except for one thin strap. Next, she removed
her hat and put it on the closet shelf. Her baldness, only partially
concealed by the hat, now became fully apparent. There wasn't a hair
on her head or anywhere else that I could see. Smooth closed the
closet door and started saying hello to everyone.

"Lisa, would you help me in the kitchen?" asked Bonnie.

"Sure, what can I do?" replied Lisa as she headed in that direction.

Clipper sat in an easy chair next to Spike and they began discussing
business prospects. Smooth sat next to me in the chair Lisa had just
vacated. Pokey was still tracing figures on my chest; in addition,
she put her head on my shoulder and crossed my lap with her thigh. My
right hand had nothing to do, so I put it on Pokey's raised hip.
Smooth didn't seem to find any of this remarkable in the least.

"So, Doug, how do you like Lisa's new haircut?" Smooth inquired.

"Well, I've always seen her with short hair, so it wasn't a total
surprise. I'd say the total change of fashion was more surprising," I
replied.

"Clipper really has a thing for lack of hair on women. That's one of
the reasons he married me, of course. I love him for other reasons,
too. He's taught me to accept myself and assert my true identity.
Would you believe I used to wear wigs all the time? Clipper helped me
see I was trying to be someone I wasn't!"

As Smooth was talking, I took a better look at her face. As Lisa had
said, she had no eyebrows or eyelashes. She didn't simulate them with
eyeliner or pencil either, though she did apply color to her eyelids
and cheeks. Her lipstick was a deep shade of red and she wore two
large earrings on each ear. One earring had a long black diamond
shape; the other was a gold hoop surrounding the first. She wore a
long black and gold necklace wrapped twice around her neck. Her
bodice was held up by two thin neck straps and one across her back.
Her shoulders, sides, and back were essentially naked.

"Am I distracting you?" asked Pokey.

"Ah, no, not really. Smooth, I guess everyone calls you that, do you
ever wear a wig now?"

Pokey seemed to take my lack of distraction as reason to intensify her
efforts. She began running her finger under the waistband of my
pants.

"I haven't worn a wig since the day before our wedding fifteen years
ago," replied Smooth. "I usually wear a hat or scarf in public, but
I'm myself at the shop, at home, and with friends. Do you find my
appearance shocking?"

"It's unusual, but also exotic," I replied. "How do your customers
feel? Aren't they apprehensive about having their hair cared for by
someone with no personal experience?"

"Well, they can see what a nice job I do on Clipper. He thinks about
becoming bald himself sometimes, but I keep talking him out of it. I
seem to have this residual desire for hair that I satisfy by taking
care of his. Do you see what a nice shine it has, with no split
ends?"

I looked over to where Spike and Clipper were still discussing
business. Robin had joined them. Clipper's hair did look very well
cared for; many women would probably trade scalps on the spot. Pokey
began massaging the inside of my pants leg and Spike gave me the high
sign.

"Do you have any children?" I asked Smooth.

"Yes, a bald fourteen year old girl named Marble and a hairy ten year
old boy named Shag. Lack of hair runs in the family; my mom was hairy
but her mom and two of my aunts were bald. Marble wears a wig to
school so other kids don't tease her, but she accepts herself at home
and with close friends."

"Isn't gym class a problem?" I asked. Pokey had switched back to my
waist band and inserted several fingers. I was beginning to fear that
a wet spot would show, despite the black color of my pants.

"Well, Marble can't shower in a wig, so the girls in her gym class
know her condition. She wears a baseball cap for most sports and a
swim cap when they go to the pool. Baldness affects about one woman
in a hundred, you know. It's not as rare as most people think."

Maybe Pokey's constant attention had something to do with it, but
Smooth was starting to look really sexy in her bare scalp. Pokey's
entire hand was already inside my pants when I realized she was about
to discover the secret in my crotch.

"Dinner will be in twenty minutes," Bonnie announced. "Does anybody
want a drink?"

"I'd like a beer," said Clipper.

"Me, too," added Robin.

"Pokey and I will have wine with dinner," said Spike.

"Same here," said Smooth.

"I'd like to go to the washroom," I said.

"That's fine with me," said Pokey. She unwrapped her body from mine,
stood, and held our her arms. This pushed her tits together and
caused the connecting chain to dangle. "Well, take my hands, Doug,
and let's find the washroom."

I took Pokey's hands and she pulled me right up into an embrace. I
could feel her breasts and the metal of her nipple rings pressing
against my chest. She wiggled her hips against me and said,
"Honestly, Doug, I don't know what it takes to get a response out of
you. Let's find the bathroom."

Lisa must have been in the kitchen; she didn't see me, but she didn't
help me, either. Spike looked up from the couch, grinned, and resumed
his conversation. Pokey put her arm around my back and led me toward
the hall.

"I know it's here somewhere," Pokey teased. "Oh yes, here it is.
Say, your ear is bleeding a little bit. Let me help you." She pulled
me into the bathroom, closed the door, and wiped the back of my ear
with a damp cloth. Without warning, she put one arm around my waist
and grabbed my crotch with her other hand. "There's something strange
here," she said. "Have you got your tail tucked between your legs,
Doug?"

"Pokey, there are some things than no one can explain. Lisa and I
were screwing in an ancient ceremonial cavern and our sex organs got
exchanged. She has my cock and I have her pussy."

"Wow, that's incredible! Let me see!" Pokey exclaimed.

I hesitated and Pokey continued, "Here, I'll show you mine, first."
In a flash she unzipped her cutoffs, kicked them off, and did a slow
spin. The tattooed serpents actually started on her butt, curled
between her legs, and rose along her pussy lips before curling toward
her breasts. Her pussy was completely hairless. Besides being
tattooed, each of her outer lips was pierced by a metal ring. Pokey
took two chrome chains from her purse and clipped one onto each pussy
ring.

"Your turn," said Pokey. I dropped my nylon pants and revealed Lisa's
shaved pussy. Pokey knelt in front of me to take a look, and then
began tracing her fingernail from my stomach down to my thighs.
Lisa's pussy was loose and wet to begin with, but Pokey's stroking
caused it to ache. Pokey bent close and began kissing around Lisa's
mound; the chain hanging from her nose brushed against Lisa's
clitoris. Pokey was a real expert. I experienced several orgasms
within a minute of each other and then sat exhausted on the toilet
seat.

"Go ahead and pee, if you have to, then it's my turn," Pokey
instructed. I stood, lifted the seat cover, sat, pissed, and wiped.
Pokey leaned against the sink with her feet wide apart and her arms
braced in back of her. I knelt to face her pussy, grabbed her butt,
and started kissing her belly. My chin was rubbing her mons and soon
I could smell her pussy juice. I put my thumb in her vagina and
massaged her asshole with the side of my hand. The pussy rings
brushed against my lips as I kissed Pokey's labia and began tonguing
her clitoris. Pokey massaged her nipples where they'd been pierced
and began to cum moments later. We kept this up for several minutes,
with Pokey getting hotter and hotter. Finally she shook violently,
cumming over and over again. My jaw and tongue were quite tired when
she finally relaxed.

"Do you act like this all the time, Pokey? Everyone seems to accept
your behavior as perfectly normal. What about Spike?"

Pokey dampened the wash cloth again and wiped her pussy. "Spike and I
have an agreement: we save cock-in-the-pussy sex for each other. We
don't take in bodily fluids. Anything else with anybody is OK. It's
something we agreed to when he quit his practice."

"Is Spike a doctor?" I asked.

"Oh yes, quite a good one. He did general surgery for twelve years
before giving it up. The life-or-death responsibility was eating his
guts out. He made a lot of money but we weren't happy. Now, we sell
jewelry and do piercing. We avoid the nerve damage caused by piercing
without a knowledge of anatomy. Occasionally, he writes a
prescription for somebody with an infection, but that's it."

"What did you do before going into the jewelry business?" I asked.

"I was the school nurse at an elementary school," Pokey replied.
"Now, we don't make much money but our house is paid for and we
satisfy our true desires. Self-restraint is its own reward, you know.
I can't decide whether to put my pants back on. What do you think?"

I wasn't sure how much of this I could explain to Lisa. "I hate
getting home and realizing I left my pants somewhere. Why don't you
put them on?" I suggested.

"Good thinking, I hate when that happens," Pokey replied, pulling on
her cutoffs. "Oh, I left my pussy chains on. Well, I'll just fix
them for now." Pokey shook the cutoffs so one chain extended from
each leg opening, then zipped them up and snapped the waist. I put my
pants back on and we headed for the living room.

In the hallway, I could hear Lisa telling the others about our
transformation. Even so, I was shocked when I entered the living room
to find her standing without her shorts, showing everyone my cock.

"Doug, Lisa has been telling us your amazing story," said Smooth.
"Naturally, we're curious. Why don't you stand with Lisa?"

With everyone watching me and Lisa already exposing my cock, I felt I
had little choice. I pulled off my pants, tossed them over the back
of a chair, and held hands with Lisa.

"Doug, do you think the same thing would work for Bonnie and me?"
asked Robin.

"The effects are unpredictable; most people aren't happy with the
results. Of course, most people aren't expecting anything to happen.
I'd advise caution because nobody knows how to control the curse,
spell, or force, whatever it is. We'd change back if we could, but
there doesn't seem to be a way."

"Dinner's ready," announced Bonnie.

"Fine, hand me those pants, please," I asked Robin.

"You really don't have to bother," she replied.

"Damn, I knew was putting these shorts on for nothing," said Pokey,
kicking them near her tank top.

"It's getting stuffy; you might as well be comfortable," admitted
Bonnie. "This damn apartment is always roasting. If I open the
window, it's freezing."

Clipper removed his vest and Spike tossed his shirt next to Pokey's.
Smooth pulled off her harem pants, revealing that her bodice was
actually a French cut, T-back leotard.

Bonnie's dining room was spacious and tasteful. The dining set and
china cabinet had a black oriental finish with hand-painted gold trim.
The table was covered with a white cloth and place settings for eight;
two at the ends and three on each side. An oblong chandelier,
obviously not at full intensity, supplied a soft light.

That dinner party was stranger than an Italian art movie. The host
sat at the head of the table in women's underwear. The hostess sat
opposite in men's pajamas. To Bonnie's right, wearing only sun
glasses and a hat, I sat between a bare ass bald woman and a naked
lady covered with metal and tattoos. My crew cut fiancee sat across
from me, wearing only a bra and sitting between two bare chested men.

"The first course is salad almondine," announced Bonnie. He uncovered
a large silver bowl and passed it to Pokey. Pokey found matching
tongs on the table, served herself, and passed the bowl to me. Her
breasts were squeezed between her arms again and she smiled when she
noticed me looking. I took some salad and passed the bowl to Smooth.
I couldn't help following the line of skin from Smooth's forehead to
the back of her neck, down her spine, and around her butt. Smooth
winked.

As she ate, Pokey amazingly avoided the chain that hung from her nose
to her chin. Sometimes she put her fork to the side of her mouth;
other times, she shook her head so the chain swung momentarily out of
the way.

"Do you get together like this often?" I asked no one in particular.

"We do, from time to time," answered Clipper. "Each of us pursues a
unique lifestyle and enjoys seeing others do the same. There's not
enough tolerance in the world, I tell you. People get up tight about
harmless things that happen to be a little bit different. Don't you
agree?"

"Variety is the spice of life," I answered tritely. "How long have
you been cutting hair?"

"Half an inch is the longest, though I prefer less or none. Smooth is
the most attractive woman I ever met," Clipper replied.

"No, I meant how many years?" I explained.

"Oh, well, about four years now. Bonnie and I started a small Silicon
Valley company ten years ago. His name was Barney then. We only had
one invention, but it was a doozey. We have patents from here to
Sunday and enough royalties to retire comfortably. That's what we
did; retire before age thirty five. I pursued my life-long interest
in the female scalp and Barney pursued his interest in the female, so
to speak. What do you do, Doug?"

"I'm a marketing rep for Quixotic Designs," I replied.

"Well, I don't suppose this is your normal evening party, then.
Congratulations: it takes guts to try something completely new. How
are you coping?" Clipper asked.

Pokey had started running her foot up and down my calf. I'd actually
forgotten that I was nude, but became conscious of it again. "I'm
getting by, Clipper. This all happened very suddenly, but I must
admit it's the ultimate getaway. I can't imagine myself as I was this
afternoon, and tomorrow I probably won't be able to imagine myself as
I am now." Lisa smiled and winked at me.

"The main course is chicken breast in herb sauce with stir fried
vegetables. Lisa, would you help me?" suggested Bonnie.

"I'll collect the salad plates," volunteered Pokey. Suddenly, the
room was full of three scurrying female forms: a guy with boobs
dressed in lingerie, a punky chick sporting a naked cock, and a cross
between a nude woman and a sword swallower. I decided to just let go
and enjoy myself.

"You must get some pretty wild reactions from people if you never wear
a wig," I prompted Smooth.

"It used to make me feel like a freak, but now I find it amusing," she
replied. "Expensive restaurants are the best. I'll wear a snood or a
sequined scarf draped like an Egyptian headdress, then take it off in
front of the rest room mirror. The reactions from the hairy-headed
women are really bizarre.

"Once, on a dare, I went to an expensive cosmetic store and asked the
consultant what kind of shampoo she used. I bought a bottle, dumped
out half of it, and then returned bald-headed the next day to demand
my money back. The consultant screamed, clutched her hair, and nearly
fainted. It was a riot!"

"Doing things like that must require an assured, positive self-image,"
I complemented her.

"Well, this is the way I look; if they don't like it, that's their
problem. Bald is beautiful," Smooth insisted.

Pokey reached to pick up my salad plate and brushed my arm with her
tit. The chain jingled against her nipple rings. I turned my head
toward the sound by reflex and got a close-up view of her tattoo.
"Pardon me, I'm just busy as a beaver," she said heading for the
kitchen.

"Does Marble ever join you in these escapades?" I asked Smooth.

"Marble's grown a little shy lately as she becomes more concerned with
her appearance. In their way, teen-agers are such conformists, you
know. She's getting tired of wigs, though. She tried out for cheer
leading and the damn thing kept slipping off. She could have
plastered her head with gum acacia but, I can tell you, that leads to
a sore scalp. Wigs are hot in the summer and they don't even look
natural. I wish she'd stop trying to look like a hairy woman and just
find a boy friend who prefers skin."

Lisa reached in with my entree. She brushed my side with her arm and
touched my cock to the small of my back.

"There must be advantages to being hairless," I pointed out to Smooth.

"Oh sure, but you don't notice when you grow up that way. No leg
shaving, no arm pit shaving, no mustache plucking, no shampoo, no
mousse, no hair spray. No eyeliner, no mascara. No worry about any
kind of bikini or shorts. I can't believe how much time hairy women
seem to spend on those things. I wear some color and earrings but no
more than a hairy woman. Tell me, Doug, we've been talking for a
while now; do you find me attractive?"

Lisa took her place at the table and began picking up the
conversation. "I found your appearance shocking at first, and
couldn't relate. I thought your personality would be as strange as
your appearance. Now, I see you as a very well adjusted person with
exotic features. You're an interesting and attractive person,
Smooth."

"Bravo! Maybe I'll get another haircut tomorrow," mused Lisa.

"I get first cut," opted Clipper.

Bonnie set out three bottles of chardonay. I filled Smooth's glass,
then Pokey's and my own. Smooth lifted her glass and winked at me
before taking a sip.

Pokey sat down, crossed her legs, and began rubbing my thigh with her
toe. I wasn't sure how Lisa would react to this, but she was looking
at her plate rather than me. I cut myself a piece of chicken as Pokey
stroked my thigh and Lisa's pussy began to get wet. Lisa was still
staring at her plate and hadn't eaten anything. Clipper was eating
with his right hand and keeping his left hand on his lap. He was
having trouble cutting the chicken with just a fork, and I wondered
why he didn't use a knife. Something seemed odd about Clipper's left
elbow; it was pointing toward him rather than away.

Lisa slowly began cutting her chicken. I made a noise with my fork
and watched her face as she looked up; it was flushed. There was no
further doubt: Clipper's left hand was not in his own lap! Pokey was
still stroking my thigh. From the head of the table, Bonnie watched
both sides with interest. My chair didn't have arms on it, and I
decided to try sitting "Indian style". Pokey began rubbing her entire
foot against my thigh.

Spike and Robin were discussing baseball, and Smooth looked bored. I
caught her eye and she noticed what Pokey was doing with her foot.
Smooth leaned away from the back of her chair, looked over her
shoulder at the knot in her strap, then raised her browless eyelid at
me. Lisa was still looking at her plate but barely eating. Clipper's
elbow was still pointed inward. I downed the piece of broccoli I was
chewing and pulled the string on Smooth's strap.

Smooth's leotard turned out to be a matching bra top and bib. The bra
top fell away and Smooth's breasts were completely exposed. They were
firm and attractively shaped, with well-defined nipples already erect.
She pulled down one loop of her necklace so it touched her cleavage,
then reached forward to cut her chicken. Her breasts swayed with each
stroke of the knife. After cutting the entire serving into bite-sized
chunks, she set down her knife and moved her left hand to my thigh.
Clipper moved his chair a little closer to Lisa's. Pokey started
eating with her left hand and moved her right to my stomach. I took a
piece of zucchini and poured more wine.

Spike and Robin were still discussing the relative strength of the San
Francisco Giants and the Oakland A's. Lisa's eyes were closed and she
was breathing heavily. Smooth and Pokey moved their chairs closer to
me. The sides of their butts touched mine as they moved their hands
to Lisa's pussy. The chicken was delicious but I found it very hard
to concentrate. How in the world, I wondered, did I manage to get
myself stroked off by two very exotic women during a formal dinner in
full view of my fiancee?

Lisa suddenly gasped and jerked. Somebody moved their hand to Lisa's
clitoris and caused me to cum as well. Pokey and Smooth stroked my
arms lightly, and I think Clipper patted Lisa on the thigh. Neither
Lisa nor I had eaten much.

"Hurry up and enjoy your dinner before it gets cold," urged Bonnie.

"Do you have another napkin?" asked Lisa.

"Did you spill?" asked Robin impishly.

Bonnie glared at Robin, then said, "Look right behind you, in the
china cabinet, Lisa. Don't worry, everything has Scotch Guard and I'm
due to have the furniture cleaned anyway. I hope everyone's having a
good time."

"We sure are," said Spike.

"I took the A's and Spike has the Giants," Robin explained "The man
whose team wins fewer games in May has to get a nose ring. This is
great!"

Clipper remarked, "You look nice without your bra tonight, Smooth. I
don't remember; did you have it on before?"

"I didn't want to spill herb sauce on it, Clipper. You know how tough
those stains can be," she replied.

There was a lull in the conversation. "What do you do?" I asked
Robin.

"Oh, I'm an attorney," she replied. "I helped Clipper and Bonnie
start their company and I still own some shares. I used to handle
adoptions and divorces, but now I deal mostly in gender reassignment
and defense of alternative lifestyles."

"I thought sex changes involved doctors, not lawyers," I said. With
Robin at the end of the table, I had to look right past Smooth's scalp
and breasts to see her. Smooth's breasts swayed each time she bent
forward to eat. Pokey shifted her legs and wiggled her toe on my
butt.

"There are many documents to be changed; birth certificate of course,
baptismal certificate, school records, drivers license. Prior
marriage certificates can be tricky. All this has to be supported by
the proper medical evidence."

"What do you think Doug and I should do?" asked Lisa.

"I think you should come to my office tomorrow," replied Robin. "I
really try to avoid talking business at dinner parties."

I frowned at Pokey but she kept on stroking my butt. Smooth dripped
herb sauce on her left breast, winked at me, and wiped it with her
napkin. Turning back to Robin, I said, "I really have to meet with my
client tomorrow. I've had some unplanned expenses and I need the
commission from this deal."

"Who's the client?" asked Bonnie.

"MicroMind, in San Carlos. They want to expand the plant, but the
city feels they release too much hazardous waste already. We want to
propose new production and waste disposal techniques," I replied.

"Relax, you've got the contract," said Clipper.

"How can you be sure?" I asked. Pokey was running her finger up and
down my arm, now.

"MicroMind is a major user of our patents, and Chip Bildehr is an old
friend of mine. I like you, Doug; you have an open mind. I'll call
Chip tomorrow morning and set things up," said Clipper.

"Let's not talk business at dinner parties," said Robin. "What's for
dessert?"

"Fresh strawberries in whipped mint yogurt," replied Bonnie. "Why
don't you get some helpers and bring it out?"

Pokey was driving me out of my skin. "I'll help," I volunteered.

"Me too: I haven't done anything yet," said Smooth.

Pokey folded her arms and pouted as I collected her plate. Smooth
picked up her own plate, Spike's and Lisa's. I was captivated by the
peculiar symmetry of Smooth's bald head and ass cheeks, viewed from
behind. When she turned around, there was a similar pattern with her
breasts and forehead. Robin followed us into the kitchen and showed
us where to scrape and pile. Smooth's breasts kept bobbing every time
she stooped or reached.

"You must like the hat and sunglasses most of all," remarked Smooth.

Actually, I'd forgotten I still had them on. "They go with the
earrings, don't you think?" I asked.

Robin remarked, "You're remarkably calm about walking around without a
cock, Doug. I was never one to go naked when I looked completely
female; I sure wouldn't do it now, being half and half."

"Well, this isn't my usual routine, Robin. I don't know how Lisa gets
me into these predicaments; I guess she's just less inhibited and I
enjoy the ride. Everyone's been understanding too; I couldn't do this
if I was being gawked or laughed at."

"To hell with gawkers and people who stare," said Smooth. "If they
get a charge out of it, fine. If they get disgusted, they must be
jerks, anyway."

"How much wine is left on the table?", Robin asked.

"One bottle is empty and the other two are close," I replied. "Should
I put out some more?"

"Two more bottles, I'd say. Look in the fridge; here's the opener,"
answered Robin.

I opened the wine and headed back into the dining room. Smooth had
gone ahead to pour out the last of the old bottles and collect the
empties. As I entered, I caught a side view of her bending at the
waist to fill up Clipper's glass. Clipper patted her butt as she
poured. One tit hung down into the full glass and touched the wine,
probably intentionally. Clipper kissed it dry.

"More wine, anyone?" I asked.

"Here, here!" exclaimed Clipper.

I set the bottles on the table and returned to the kitchen. Robin had
set out the desserts, so Smooth and I served them. Robin took out
some spoons and passed them around. The minute I sat down, Pokey had
her hand inside my thigh. "Doug, I missed you so much!" she
whispered.

"So, Clipper, you're sure I'm getting the MicroMind contract?" I
asked.

"Yes, of course. Stop by the shop when you visit Robin tomorrow.
It'll be a done deal by noon," Clipper assured me.

The dessert was delicious. My only criticism was that Pokey could eat
it one handed. She never touched the chain hanging in front of her
lips with her hands, yet it never seemed to get in the way. She must
have worn it all the time for years. Smooth leaned over to whisper in
my ear, touching my arm with her breast.

"Pay no attention to that girl behind the iron curtain. Trust me, in
just a few years she's bound to rust out. Even Earl Shieb won't be
able to save her."

This must have been an old drill to Pokey. I know she didn't hear
what Smooth said, but Pokey leaned toward me and whispered, "Doug, How
can you trust anyone so careless that they never even wash their hair?
Besides, who knows what's going to disappear next. Let's nail down an
agreement right now."

"Lisa, my betrothed, we've hardly spoken all evening. How are things
at your side of the table," I asked.

"Fine here; I've been dealing with things as they cum up. Have you
been keeping busy over there?" Lisa replied.

I answered, "I've cum through some slippery situations myself,
tonight, dear. Bonnie, the dinner was delicious. We've had an
unusual but very interesting evening. My compliments!"

"Why, thank you Doug. I hope you two aren't leaving," said Bonnie.
Pokey grabbed my thigh as if to restrain me.

"Well, I didn't get much sleep last night and it must be after ten
o'clock now," I answered.

"Why don't you just stay here?" suggested Bonnie. "It's closer to
Robin's office and you'll avoid the heavy morning traffic around San
Carlos."

I almost complained that we didn't have pajamas. Not having another
excuse, and getting a nod from Lisa, I agreed. "We do need to get
some sleep, though," I explained. "Do you have a guest bedroom in the
back?"

"Actually, we need to get going, too," said Clipper. "Business can't
wait." He stood up and found his vest. Smooth wiped her lips with a
napkin and slipped her harem pants and bolero jacket back on. She
carried her hat and bra in one hand as she and Clipper said good-bye
and left.

"Yeah, got to tend to business. Let's go, Pokey" said Spike as he
pulled his tank top back on. Bonnie was closing the door behind them
when I noticed Pokey's shorts and top still lying by the baseboard.

"Uh, should we remind Pokey she forgot her pants?" I asked.

"Oh, it's OK; she'll pick them up some other time. I wonder how far
away they parked," said Bonnie. "The couch is a sofa-bed; you can
just pull it out. Pillows are in the closet. Robin and I will take
five minutes to load the dishwasher and then you'll have the place to
yourself. Lisa, if you want to wash that, there's Woolite under the
bathroom sink."

Undressing for bed was a snap; I just removed my hat and sunglasses.
Lisa pulled off the lycra bra she'd been wearing all evening and
followed me into the bathroom. I sat and pissed as she filled the
sink with water, added Woolite, rinsed the bra, and hung it on the
shower rod. I waited while she stood, pissed, and shook off my cock.

Back in the living room, I pulled out the sofa bed. It had a satin
bottom sheet but no top sheet or blanket. Bonnie and Robin didn't
seem to be around and I was too tired to look for them. I tossed a
pillow from the closet to Lisa, grabbed another for myself, and fell
to the bed. I was asleep in seconds.

Chapter 23. New Options Friday, Week 2

Friday morning I woke to the sounds of breakfast being made. I
reached around for the covers and then remembered there weren't any.
A trip to the bathroom seemed rather urgent. I stumbled down the hall
and almost forgot to sit down before pissing. My face was covered
with stubble but, of course, I didn't have my razor.

Getting dressed seemed like a good idea, but my pants weren't in the
living room where I'd left them before dinner. By now Lisa was awake
and sitting against the sofa back with her legs crossed. "Are you
done in the bathroom?" she asked.

"Yeah, for now. Have you seen my pants?" I replied.

"Forgot and left you pants somewhere, did you? What a pity, but let's
worry about that problem later," Lisa teased, heading for the hall. I
sat on the sofa bed to rest for a minute, then heard someone enter the
room. It was Robin, dressed in plaid cotton boxer shorts and a white
cotton athletic T-shirt. Her face needed a shave.

"Did I wake you folks?" she asked.

"Oh, I guess it was time to wake up anyway. What's cooking?" I
replied.

"I'm having bacon and eggs. If you prefer, we have fruit, juice, and
toast. The coffee is already made," Robin said.

"Have you seen my pants, Robin?" I asked. "I thought they were on the
chair."

"Oh, Bonnie took all your clothes to be washed. He just left a few
minutes ago; I suppose a wash and dry cycle will take at least an
hour. Why don't you have some coffee and read the newspaper?"

I was beginning to suspect a conspiracy. "Do you have anything we can
wear?" I asked.

"Oh, you really needn't bother. You aren't showing anything new,
compared to last night," she replied.

Suspicions confirmed! "Why don't you join us?" I asked Robin.

She replied, "I figured that would come, sooner or later. As you
know, Bonnie and I are both undergoing gender reassignments. I'm a
man born in a woman's body. The hormone shots give me extra hair and
muscular development, but I'm still short, skinny, and dickless.
Clothes make the man, I'm afraid; I just don't look right without
them. However, fair being fair, I'll undress if you insist."

Lisa replied, "Robin, I don't want to impose, but I'm just as curious
about you as you are about us. We've more than satisfied your
curiosity. I'd like to see your body for a few minutes, at least."

"OK, brace yourself," said Robin as she pulled off her T-shirt and
boxers. Her breasts were flat but somewhat lumpy. The nipples looked
a little odd, too. She had thick black body hair almost everywhere
but her waist and hips were still quite feminine. Her crotch was very
hairy and the tip of an enlarged clitoris was faintly visible.

"As you can see, hormones and breast reduction surgery didn't exactly
prepare me for the beach," she said. "Unfortunately, what you see may
be as good as it gets. It's better than having a woman's body, but
it's only the illusion of a man's body. If you don't mind, I'll get
dressed now."

"Thank you for sharing your feelings with us," said Lisa. "Have you
considered workouts or body building?"

"Yes, but I don't exactly fit into that scene. There's not a gym in
the Bay Area where I'd be accepted. I do work out at home but it's
not a well-designed program."

Robin had finished dressing when Bonnie entered through the front
door. He was wearing a sleeveless blouse, Bermuda shorts, and walking
sandals. A bra strap was visible on his shoulder. He greeted us,
"Doug and Lisa, good morning! I hope you slept well. Your clothes
are in the wash; they'll be ready in about an hour. Did you have
breakfast?"

"Do you have anything we can wear?" I asked.

"Oh, you really needn't bother. After last night, there's no reason
to be shy this morning," he replied.

Robin fried three strips of bacon and two eggs sunny side up for me.
Lisa had grapefruit and a piece of toast. Bonnie sat and chatted with
us while Robin showered and dressed for work.

"When did you decide to become a woman?" I asked Bonnie.

"I always felt I should have been a girl," he answered. "There were a
lot of things. People were always telling me I was too emotional for
a boy, too cute for a boy, too blushing for a boy. I have a slim
build and always got kidded about my legs."

"But when did you actually see a doctor about it?" Lisa asked.

"It was after Clipper and I started collecting on our patents. Before
then, I needed to keep my job, and that required keeping up
appearances. Having an outside income gave me the freedom to drop out
of sight and reappear in another guise, so to speak. I switched to
women's clothes three years ago and started electrolysis at about the
same time. It was painful, time consuming, and expensive, but now I'm
hairless everywhere except my crotch and my head. Dr. Slicer put me
on hormones two years ago; they made my breasts develop and my hips
widen. I've learned to care for my hair, put on makeup, and walk in
high heels. It's a dream come true."

"Are you still legally male?" I wondered.

"Yes, I still have my little hangy-down parts. I don't get erections
any more because of the hormones. Dr. Slicer says I can schedule
surgery to give me a female crotch pretty much at will now, but I keep
putting it off. It wouldn't be a real pussy, you know. It would just
look like one."

"I suppose you look a lot like me, then," said Lisa.

Bonnie sighed. "Well, I guess you've already shown me yours." He
stood and removed his blouse and shorts, then did a slow spin in his
underwear. He wore a lightweight white bra that slanted across each
breast and cotton bikini V-back panties. Although the panties were
decidedly feminine, they had a pouch in front for his cock.

"I'll bet those panties are from Any Bodies," Lisa commented. "Doug,
that the place I was telling you about. They have both lingerie and
men's underwear in men's and women's sizes."

"You're right, Lisa. If the Shortz's hadn't started Any Bodies, I
might have. They really fill a need."

"What shorts are these?" I asked.

"Oh, it's Dick and Andrea Shortz. They both like cross-dressing, just
for fun, and they could never find underwear that fit. Their shop is
in the same alley with Piercing Scream and Tress & Less," Bonnie
explained. He then unhooked his bra and revealed a very attractive
pair of breasts. They weren't very large but they were firm, high,
and definitely feminine. When he removed his panties, the cock looked
completely out of place with the rest of his body; of course, I
expected that. Lisa stood up and kissed him. They embraced for a
moment, breast touching breast and cock touching cock.

"Thanks, Bonnie. It really helps to know I'm not alone with this
crazy physique," Lisa said.

Bonnie put his bra and panties back on, then sat at the table and held
my hand. "I'd like the two of you to know how much Robin and I
appreciate your understanding, also. It helps us not to feel alone,
and we really admire the way you two are handling your problems. I
hope we can all remain friends."

"I hope so too, though we have no plans involving the Bay Area," I
said.

"Well, things do work out sometimes," Bonnie said. "Robin seems to be
done in the bathroom. I'll find you guys some towels."

I wanted to go back to The Open Palms and change before visiting
Robin, but neither Bonnie nor Lisa would have a bit of it. Lisa
showered first, while I looked for a way to shave. Robin had an
electric shaver that didn't look tough enough for my beard, and
neither she nor Bonnie shaved their legs. Lisa finished her shower
and asked to be dried. As I patted the towel all over her body, she
consoled me by claiming that a rough beard looked good with my
earrings and fake tattoos. I dried my cock last, remembering what it
felt like when it was still attached to me. Now, it just felt like a
rubber ducky. It started to rise as I wiped it, and Lisa grinned.

"Cum, cum, mustn't get excited!" she chided, shaking her finger. "We
can't be screwing around all day, Doug. I saved you some hot water;
now take your shower!"

Lisa stood by the mirror to mousse her hair and put on makeup. I
stepped into the shower, turned on the water, and took a piss. I
looked for some oily hair shampoo but found only two dry hair
formulas. I presumed the Command was Robin's shampoo while Bonnie
used the L'oreal. I used the Command. Fair is fair, and Lisa was
waiting to dry me as I stepped out of the shower. As I feared, my
hair came out slick and greasy. Lisa combed it all back and decided
she liked it that way.

Bonnie had put his blouse and shorts back on and retrieved our clothes
from the drier. Although I'd been nude for about fourteen hours and
was starting to get used to it, wearing pants again felt comfortable.
Lisa put on her lycra bra and bib shorts, and I donned my sunglasses
and hat. We both wore our Santa Fe necklaces. Of course, there
wasn't a shirt in the apartment that fit me.

Bonnie announced, "Robin left already to meet with a client. We can
leave any time. Parking is difficult, so I suggest we all go in my
car. Are you guys ready?"

We were. Fortunately, it was a warm day, especially for San
Francisco. Bonnie had a powder blue Pontiac convertible and insisted
on putting the top down. Lisa jumped into the back seat so I'd have
more leg room up front. Bonnie pulled smoothly out of the parking lot
and headed down High Road. He followed a series of complicated short
cuts that soon had me lost.

"Bonnie, you don't seem to need bar maid's wages. Why do you do it?"
I asked.

"It's just a feminine role I like to play," he replied. "Men find me
sexy and women find me pleasant. I can always tell if someone
suspects me, but it hasn't happened for a long time. I like that. It
gives me an extra incentive to watch my weight, too."

Once, at a red light, we stopped next to a delivery van. The driver
started to ogle Bonnie and Lisa, and Bonnie wiggled to adjust his
shorts. When he was done, more of his legs were showing than before.
I looked back at the delivery driver and the guy gave me "thumbs up".
The light turned green and we pulled away.

"For a minute there, I was really curious about that guy," I said. "I
wonder what would happen if we lured him into a motel room someplace.
He'd be in for quite a surprise."

"It makes you wonder, doesn't it?" asked Bonnie. "I tried it a few
times with guys who tried to seduce me at the bar. All but one ran
screaming from the room. The one who stayed just wanted to talk all
night and then take pictures. Well, here we are. If you see a
parking space, shout."

We drove around the hilly streets of the neighborhood for about
fifteen minutes without sighting a single parking space. Finally, I
saw a car pulling out and alerted Bonnie. Another car was headed for
the same space, but Bonnie accelerated and beat it out. The street
sloped uphill with diagonal parking spaces, and the Bonnie's
convertible ended up at a crazy angle that made it difficult to get
out. He put up the roof and locked the car.

Robin's office was several blocks away. The neighborhood was filled
with unusual shops and trendy restaurants. It seemed to attract both
tourists and locals. Window shopping and people watching seemed to be
the main activities.

There were all kinds of people on the sidewalk; businessmen, rappers,
tradesmen, career women, street vendors, and more. I felt reassured
about my appearance. There's always comfort in knowing there's
someone weirder than yourself. For a while, we walked behind a couple
where the woman wore a blue pinstriped business suit and the guy wore
pink skin shorts and sunglasses.

"This is it," announced Bonnie when we reached a small office
building. We took an elevator to the third floor and found Robin's
hall entrance. It was a panel door with a pane of frosted glass set
into the top half. Gold leaf proclaimed, "Robin Banks, Attorney at
Law." The receptionist was of indeterminate sex, wearing tweed
pleated pants, penny loafers, a white shirt, and vest. He or she wore
a short hair style, long in the back, and no makeup.

"Hi Georgie, you look nice today. We're here to see Robin," Bonnie
said.

"OK, she's with a client now but I'll tell her you're here. Please
have a seat." Georgie's voice was rather high pitched for a man but
low for a woman.

Bonnie and Lisa began discussing various styles of makeup, so I looked
through the magazines. There was an unusual variety of topics:
psychology, gay rights, cross-dressing, nudism, sociology, body
decoration, medicine, law, and of course, Reader's Digest. I started
reading a law review article regarding sex discrimination following
gender reassignment, but mostly I watched Georgie.

There were no lipstick or other gender-specific items on Georgie's
desk. Also, there were no family photos. Georgie's fingernails were
short and unpolished. I failed to detect either a wallet or a purse.
There was no watch or jewelry. The button holes on Georgie's shirt
were on the left, but the belt buckle was on the right. Georgie's
hosiery was black ribbed nylon, but I couldn't decide between men's
over-the-calf dress socks and women's knee-highs. The phone rang and
Georgie picked it up.

"Robin Banks, Attorney. This is Georgie; how can I help you?... Oh,
hi, I'm glad you called!... Yeah, I know... No, I can't; how about
Saturday?... Sunday afternoon? I have something going on early, but
I could meet you there... OK, you're sweet."

I decided to try a trick question. "Was that your girlfriend?" I
asked Georgie.

"Just a friend," said Georgie.

If Georgie was playing a game, she was probably female, I decided.
Very few men would find it interesting to make people suspect they
were women. Then again, Robin might attract those who did. Georgie
might be undergoing sex change therapy herself, or could simply be
exploring various sexual roles. Alternatively, it could all be in my
imagination.

A handsome construction worker left Robin's office, handed Georgie a
check, and left. Robin came out carrying a thick folder that she
handed to Georgie. She wore a blue pinstriped suit, monogrammed dress
shirt, red striped tie, and black wing tips. Her button holes and
belt buckle were both on the left. She had a Cross pen in her shirt
pocket and change or keys in her pants pocket.

"Hi, Doug, glad you could make it," she said, gripping my hand much
harder than I expected. "Come on in. You too, Lisa. Georgie, no
calls except emergencies."

Robin's office had deep red carpeting with dark furniture and paneling
throughout. The light fixtures and furniture trim were brass. Lisa
and I sat in two large mahogany chairs upholstered in leather. Robin
sat behind her massive desk in a leather-covered high-backed chair,
then crossed her ankle over her knee and stared at us with her
fingertips pressed together.

"I believe we were discussing your legal status as a man, Doug, and
yours as a woman, Lisa. In life, being male or female is not
absolute. Most people are predominantly male or female, but others
fall along a continuous scale. Generally, a person's legal sex can
only be changed based on evidence from medical and psychological
experts. Normally, such evidence is submitted at the end of, and as a
result of, a program of gender reassignment."

I didn't catch a word Robin was saying. Instead, I was trying to
convince myself this was a hairy little woman who'd paid to have her
breasts removed.

"Let's make this simple," said Lisa. "If I get caught standing and
pissing in the ladies' room, or if someone just sees Doug's cock, am I
guilty of a crime?"

"You have legal proof of being female, such as your birth certificate
and driver's license; therefore, being present in the ladies room
cannot be a crime. Offensive behavior is another matter; I advise you
to be discrete," said Robin.

"Do you use the men's or the ladies' room, Robin?" I asked.

"That is not relevant to this discussion," she replied. "Obviously,
one must conform to the persona one presents."

"We both plan to maintain our former appearance. I take it, then,
that we shouldn't change our legal sex," I said.

"Based on what you've told me, yes, that would be my recommendation,"
said Robin.

"If we did want to have our records changed, could you do it?" asked
Lisa.

"I'd need medical and psychological evidence, but yes, I could do it.
There are doctors and counselors here in the building with experience
in these matters. Would you like their names?" Robin replied.

I looked at Lisa, who shook her head. "No, not today, Robin. We'll
consult with you again if that changes."

"Fine. Are we concluded, then? There is no charge for an initial
consultation. Please be sure that Georgie has your full names and
addresses for the files. I hope we can do business again." Robin
stood and opened the door for us to depart. I shook her hand firmly
as we left.

Georgie gave us several information cards and a cheap metal pen
bearing Robin's name and phone number. Two more clients were waiting
to see Robin; a six-foot two woman with huge shoulders and a black guy
wearing makeup and gold nail polish. Georgie took back the cards but
not the pen and we left the office with Bonnie. In the elevator, I
asked her what sex Georgie was.

"Nobody knows, not even Georgie," she said. "The clothes tell you
nothing; some days it's men's' suits, some days it's miniskirts, some
days it's in the middle. Smooth does a terrific job with the hair. I
think Georgie enjoys the variety more than anything. Robin never
pressed the issue. She's getting a terrific legal secretary out of
it, though."

"Are we going to see Clipper? I want to check on the MicroMind deal,"
I reminded Bonnie.

"Oh, sure, Essence Alley is just a block away," she replied.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Oh, you'll see. It's a shopping arcade, really. Clipper and Smooth
have their shop there, as well as Spike and Pokey. Any Bodies is
there too. As a group of shops, it's really a unique. Maybe we'll
have lunch."

A minute later we arrived. The entrance was a brick archway with
Essence Alley spelled out in gold metalwork. A placard listed the
shops inside.

Essence Alley

Any Bodies Men's and Ladies' Lingerie for Both
Chain Ring Bouquet Comfortable Dining
Talon Scout Acrylic Nails
Fitting Touch Clothing for Men or Women
Fulton's Follicle Waxing and Electrolysis
About Face Cosmetics
Ann's Hides Leather Clothing, Shoes, & Accessories
Piercing Scream Earrings and Unusual Adornments
Skin Deep Tattoos
Tress & Less Hair and Head Styling
Tanny Fanny Discrete Tanning
Vibrant Shades Sunglasses

Being in constant shade, the inner courtyard was chilly. Fortunately,
Tress & Less was located near the main entrance. The waiting room was
fitted with comfortable chairs, numerous plants, and a bookshelf full
of hair style photos. Clipper had been at work on the receptionist;
she had a "spot" haircut with an oval of very short hair on top and
stubble on the sides and back. I was accustomed to seeing that style
on black athletes but not on teenage Oriental girls. She had two
pierced earrings at the bottom of each ear and a stick pin at the top.

"Oh, hi, you were here yesterday," she said to Lisa. "Need a little
more taken off?" A name tag identified her as Imi Yamakuti.

"No, we need to talk to Clipper," Lisa replied.

"You can go on back. He's working on a customer," she said.

The salon area was dimly lit except for spotlights over the chairs.
The floor was tiled in a pink and aqua geometric pattern on a black
background. The walls were dusty rose, with makeup lights around the
mirrors. Lighted plant hangers provided contrast.

Smooth was finishing a tint and perm for a man with shoulder length
hair. The color, shine, and curl all looked great. Smooth wore a
short nylon smock, seamed pantyhose, one inch heels, and several pairs
of earrings. If there was anything else, I never found out.
Certainly, she wasn't wearing a hat or wig. She waved and pointed
toward the back, where Clipper was working.

Clipper was starting on a young Latin woman with long, shiny, black
hair. Drapes concealed the mirror and tape-on pads covered her eyes.
Clipper tilted the chair back and began shaving her to half an inch.
Huge mounds of severed hair fell to the floor.

"Hi, Clipper. What's up?" I asked.

"Oh, hello, Doug and Lisa. This is Anita Sanchez. She's here for a
total make-over. Her coworkers see her as passive because of her
traditional good looks. At her performance review, she was told to
develop a more aggressive and demanding image. Am I getting this
right, Anita?"

"Yes," said the girl. "I hope I'm doing the right thing."

"Next week, no one will view you as passive; that I can assure you,"
said Clipper. "Anita came in last weekend and looked through our
style books. Without worrying about what people think, she chose a
number of styles that, to her, suggested an aggressive and demanding
woman. During the week, I held a planning session with Smooth, Spike,
Cal Urskiem, and Andy Reghatti. We merged Anita's preferences with
current styles and designed a completely new look for her. New
hairstyle, new jewelry, new makeup, new clothes. We'll do all the
work today, right here. She'll walk out a new woman."

Clipper had finished removing the bulk of Anita's hair. He lifted the
chair back into normal position and began using a dustpan to scoop up
the hair and toss it into the trash. Anita shook her head in
disbelief and reached toward it, but Clipper caught her hand. "Ta,
ta, you must wait till the end," he chided her.

"Doug, give me fifteen minutes with Anita and then I'll take a break.
Smooth can handle the mousse and then Spike will arrive with the
earrings and other jewelry."

I took another look at Smooth and then headed back to the waiting
room. Her hairless legs really looked great in the seamed nylons and
short heels. Lisa poked me.

There were no magazines in the waiting room, just style books. I
browsed through one of the men's books and was surprised at the range
of short styles available. A thin woman in her late thirties entered
wearing a business suit and began browsing the ultra-short women's
styles. She had shoulder-length brown hair that she fingered
constantly. She wore no makeup or jewelry.

"Thinking about a new style?" Imi asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Do you think I'd look good with a super-short
cut?" I asked her in return.

"Fer sure, fer sure," she said. "I love my hair this way. It's so
easy to take care of and it freaks people out." Two of her earrings
were miniature temple bells that jingled as she moved her head.

The woman in the business suit opened her calendar and asked me for a
pen. I slipped the pen from Robin's office out of my waistband and
handed it to her.

One style caught my eye; it had a flat top that curved around to the
back like a Mohawk, ending in a little pony tail. The sides were
stubble around the ear but were gradually longer toward the top. The
model wore a metal necklace, several earrings, and small wire frame
sunglasses. Lisa noticed what I was looking at.

"Oh, that's hot!" she gushed. "Are you going to try it?"

"Not likely," I said. "Most of my clients would react pretty
negatively."

"Doug, you're a slave to convention. You should relax and enjoy life.
If you don't get a haircut today, I will," Lisa threatened.

"Right; you and Smooth can start a bowling league," I teased. "Let's
wait and see what Clipper has to say about the MicroMind deal. If it
goes through, I can afford to take vacation while my hair grows back."

Just then, Clipper came out of the back room. "Hi, guys. Listen, I
spoke with Chip Bildehr this morning and he agrees your firm is the
leading candidate. He's speaking to Robin and your legal department
in Chicago right now. It's a done deal, Doug. Congratulations!"

"Well, thanks Clipper. I guess this is due to your influence rather
than my firm's capabilities, but I collect the commission either way."

"Doug, it isn't like that. Chip Bildehr had already decided your firm
showed the most expertise. I merely convinced him to skip the expense
of a formal competition."

"Clipper, Chip never talked to anyone in the firm but me. How could
he judge our expertise from that?"

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Doug. Chip wants you to be on-
site project administrator. He says the project can begin in July,
right after your honeymoon."

"That might be a problem. I'd need a promotion to qualify as project
administrator," I said.

"When your boss sees the size of this contract, and the client wants
you as administrator, I bet you get that promotion," said Clipper.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Yes, I'd like a haircut," I replied.

"Me too," said the mousey woman in the business suit.

Chapter 24. New Image

Clipper studied the style I'd selected and led me into the salon.
Spike was bending over Anita, a tray of piercing needles and a plate
of jewelry on the table. I also noticed a syringe, which Clipper
identified as Novocain.

I sat in the next chair. Clipper asked if I wanted to watch or be
turned around; I chose not to watch. As with Anita, Clipper first
chopped my hair down to a uniform half inch and then started the
detail styling. Smooth came in and went to work on another customer.
He had long black hair teased to stand straight up; I figured him for
a rock singer. Smooth's legs were still terrific.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my ear. "Watch it!" I exclaimed.

"Silly, it's just me," said Lisa's voice. "I showed the style picture
to Pokey and we picked out some more earrings for you. Relax, you're
going to love them."

"I'm definitely taking vacation next week," I said. "With a punk
haircut and earrings, I couldn't possibly do business with any client
I ever met. How much stuff have you got there, and where do you plan
to put it?"

"Excuse me, but this seems like it might take a while. I'm going to
start the next customer," said Clipper. He ushered in the business
woman, took her jacket, and tipped back her chair.

"We have three earrings for your left ear and two for your right. We
brought a nose ring suitable for either side, but that's negotiable,"
said Lisa.

"Negotiable? What nerve! The nose ring isn't the only thing
negotiable, Lisa. How many piercing holes do you have now? Four?"

"Six. I just bought another pair," said Lisa.

"OK. I'll match you hole for hole. I have two holes now. You
brought five earrings; you can put in four of them. That puts us even
at six piercings," I said. I was sure Lisa wouldn't call my bluff.
She looked at the five earrings and set one aside.

"Pokey, can you do these four?" asked Lisa. "I want to talk to
Spike."

Suddenly, I didn't like the way things were going. However, I
couldn't run after Lisa with my haircut half finished. Pokey made
three more holes and put in the new earrings; I then had three on my
lower left ear, one on my lower right ear, and one at the top of each
ear. I consoled myself with the thought of just taking the earrings
back out and letting the holes heal. Pokey swabbed around the new
piercings then came around in front and told me I looked great.

Pokey had most of the same jewelry as she did the night before; I
suppose it took a long time to change it all. She had different
bracelets and necklaces, but of course those were easy. I think some
of the earrings were different. A black, one-piece lycra jumpsuit was
her only garment. Her nipple and pussy rings were faintly visible.
Vaguely, I noticed Spike and Lisa leaving together. Someone,
presumably Cal, began working on Anita's makeup.

"Yeah, those earrings really suit you," said Pokey as she started to
stroke my chest. "The haircut is going to look great, too. Oh, don't
look yet; wait till the haircut is finished."

Clipper was just scooping up the business woman's hair. He'd clipped
her down to a quarter inch, and I wondered what kind of style she'd
requested. "Doug, I'm going to let those piercings heal a few minutes
before I get started again. That's why I usually finish the haircut
first." Pokey was continuing to stroke my chest and shoulders, and
Lisa's pussy was appreciative.

"Piercings? You do piercings?" asked the business woman.

"Got to make a living," Pokey said to me. "What location did you have
in mind?" she asked, walking toward the customer.

My ears ached, but not too bad. Smooth was still working on the rock
musician. I was tired and must have taken a short nap. Clipper woke
me.

"Doug, are you ready to finish that cut? It's been about half an hour
but you didn't seem in a hurry. This will only take about ten
minutes. Are you ready?"

I said that I was. The business woman was just leaving. She had a
"spot" haircut, like the receptionist, and two pierced earrings on
each side. She unbuttoned the top of her blouse, put on a pair of
plastic sunglasses, and dispensed with her jacket. Even so, the
combination of extreme haircut, wool skirt, and oxford shoes looked
ridiculous. To my great surprise, she smiled ecstatically at her
reflection.

"This is great. I want to buy some new clothes now, and I've decided
to go ahead with the tattoos. Thank you very much," she said.

Anita was almost done, too. She now wore a studded black leather
miniskirt with a low cut white satin blouse, black bra, black
stockings, studded ankle booties, studded wrist cuffs, and a black
choker. Her hair was basically a flat top with peaked corners. She
had dark lipstick, angular cheek rouge, and a stern, questioning
eyebrow treatment She wore two chrome necklaces and a mixture of
silver and black earrings. The overall effect was very much like a
Nagel poster. I was sure no one would perceive Anita as a passive,
humble Mexican girl.

Curious, I asked, "You look great, Anita. What do you do for a
living?"

"I sell men's shoes," was the reply.

"Are you ready?" asked Clipper.

"Yeah, get on with it, Clipper. I'm sure you know what you're doing.
There's no way I know what I'm doing. I hope Lisa knows," I mused.

Clipper finished me and spun me toward the mirror. I couldn't believe
it was me. My appearance seemed totally strange and bizarre, yet
captivating. I moved my head as I felt the haircut, and the earrings
jingled. It didn't seem possible that I'd done this to myself.

"What do you think?" Clipper asked.

"It's just what I asked for. I only wish I could remember why I asked
for it. I could use a drink and some sunglasses," I answered.

"Well, here are your hat and sunglasses. Seems a shame to wear the
hat, though," said Clipper. I thanked him and paid the receptionist.
Bonnie was waiting but Lisa was nowhere in sight.

"Those fake tattoos are smearing," said Bonnie. "Let's get some
solvent and clean them off."

"Where's Lisa?" I asked.

"She'll be busy for another half hour or so. We can get solvent at
Skin Deep. Let's go."

The parachute pants had huge pockets that easily held my hat. Behind
my sunglasses, I watched people's reactions to my new appearance.
Some people were amused, some were intrigued, and a few were
disgusted. Some really foxy women were aroused. I decided my new
style had advantages.

Skin Deep was a trendy, upscale tattoo parlor. The place was nicely
decorated, without a trace of motorcycle paraphernalia.

"Hi, I'm Drew Picshire, the owner. How can I help you?" said the man
behind the counter. He wore a brief tank top that revealed large
Japanese drawings over his entire upper body.

"These transfers are starting to smear. We just need some solvent to
clean them off," said Bonnie.

"No problem, I'll clean them for you right here. Ever consider the
real thing?" Drew inquired.

"No never. I'm not into 'Mom' hearts, skulls, or motorcycle emblems,"
I replied.

"Our art is nothing like that. We do mostly traditional Oriental
themes, such as serpents, landscapes, and magic. You can get a small
piece of work that no one will ever see, or something large to show
the world. Why don't you look at some samples while I clean those
transfers?"

The artwork was much different that I expected. Certainly, Pokey's
tattoo was nothing like a typical Harley-Davidson emblem. I liked one
particular dragon shown on a woman's arm.

"See something you like?" Drew asked.

"I like the style of this dragon. Just out of curiosity, could you
put in on a woman's side? Perhaps the tail could start on her thigh,
and the head could be by the breast. I saw one tattoo where serpents
are about to bite the woman's nipples."

"Oh, you must have met Pokey. How about two dragons, one on each
side? They could be mating, with contact occurring in the pubic
region. The tails would be on the thigh, the bellies on the belly,
and the heads on the breasts."

"That sounds great. How much?" I asked.

"How long, is the question. The basic work for each dragon would take
about twenty hours, at fifty dollars an hour. Most people can stand
two or three one hour sessions a week. Now, for work in the pubic
region, I recommend depilatation. Electrolysis is the best, but it
takes a long time and should be done prior to the tattoo work. It's
hard for them to see the hairs clearly against the tattoo, you know.
Waxing is quick and easy, but the hair keeps growing back and covering
the work. You should definitely consider electrolysis if you have
piercing in mind. They can't wax right around cock or pussy rings."

"What if the person was unconscious? Could two artists do a dragon in
ten hours?" I asked.

"Well, two artists couldn't work ten hours straight. A team of three
could do it, though. I wouldn't tattoo someone dragged in here
unconscious, if that's what you have in mind," warned Drew.

"Lisa should be back by now," said Bonnie.

"OK, well, I'll keep it in mind, Drew. I don't suppose you have a
transfer like that dragon?"

"My wife designed that figure, and I don't have a commercial transfer.
Here are some others, though." Drew pointed out a large serpent in an
L-shaped pose. With the body across the top of my chest, the tail
reached to my waist.

"I'm in a hurry. How long would this take to put on?" I asked.

"Ten minutes, and it'll last five days. Whoever applied the other
transfer was an amateur," Drew said. Ten minutes later the serpent
was in place. Bonnie and I headed back to Tress & Less.

Lisa was in the waiting area. I was prepared for more pierced
jewelry; daring her to match me had been a mistake. I wasn't prepared
for the extent of it. Lisa had four earrings at the bottom of each
ear and three at the top. She'd bought a nose ring for each side;
like Pokey, and she had the right one chained to an earring. The left
nose ring had a chain hanging over her lips. The greatest shock was
the nipple rings; I could see them clearly through her thin lycra bra.

"Your turn, Spike is waiting," said Lisa. "By the way, I like your
new transfer."

"Let me see those nipple rings," I said. Lisa carefully pulled down
one side of her bra and revealed a large gold ring. It was about an
inch and a half across and quite thick; like #12 electrical wire. I
already knew what I planned to say.

"Lisa, thank you. I'm sure you noticed how much I enjoyed Pokey's
jewelry last night, and I love you for going through this much pain
and effort just to please me. I promised I'd match your decorations
piece for piece, and I still will if you want me to."

"Yes, Doug, I want you to go and see Spike," Lisa said.

"OK, I will. Lisa, in return, I've decided to present you with a
tattoo. It'll be in a place you can easily conceal if you don't want
it to show. Will you accept this gift in return?"

"Sure, Doug, if that's what you want," replied Lisa cautiously.

"Great! Let's have lunch and then go to Piercing Scream," I said.

"I don't believe you two," commented Bonnie.

Chapter 25. The Plot Unfolds

Chain Ring Bouquet had quite a variety of sandwiches and side orders.
Lisa selected grilled salmon on sourdough, Bonnie had sliced turkey
and guacamole on toast, and I chose marinated beef on rye with pasta
salad. Lisa and Bonnie ordered Perrier and I had a beer. The
waitress's name was Havka. She seemed refreshingly normal until she
turned away from us the first time. The top of her waitress uniform
turned out to be a halter top exposing her entire back. A tattooed
drawing of a Japanese magic show extended from her shoulders to her
waist. Lower, a tattooed lizard crawled up the back of her thigh and
disappeared under her dress.

Lisa now had fourteen earrings, two nose rings, two facial chains, and
two nipple rings to my six earrings. She'd already selected my new
items and Spike was waiting in the back for me.

"Can we do this alone?" I asked.

"Yeah, it might be painful. You don't need all these folks to watch
you grimace," said Spike. He waved Lisa, Bonnie, and Pokey out of the
room, then began laying out his needles and my jewelry. There was
also some kind of electrical gadget I didn't recognize.

"Spike, I need your help. I'm not really into pierced jewelry, but I
played this situation wrong and I'm willing to be a good loser.
Actually, I don't mind a practical joke if it's harmless and well
done. The thing is, I've decided to give Lisa a present in the form
of a tattoo. She's agreed to go through with it, but it'll take ten
hours to apply. We don't have time to come in for a few hours a week.
If I can set up the tattoo for Monday, can you give her an
anesthetic?"

"You mean, can I knock her out for ten hours? Sure, I did that for
Pokey. I thought you folks were going home tomorrow, though."

"I've decided to take vacation next week. We'll move to a different
hotel here in town," I replied.

"You should stay with us, Doug. No, no, don't object. Clipper and I
own five acres outside Union City. It's warm there and very private;
you can do whatever you want. We each built a house for ourselves,
and we put up a guest house for whoever has company. The guest house
is just sitting vacant and I want you and Lisa to use it. Is it
decided?"

"OK, just give me the directions when I'm done," I replied.

The next hour was a blur. Spike poked eight new holes in my ears and
inserted the earrings Lisa had selected. Next, he injected Novocain
into my nose and nipples. After waiting a few minutes, he made holes
for the nose and nipple rings, then inserted them. The last step was
the most confusing; he put on sunglasses, grasped each ring on my
ears, nose, and nipples with a hinged metal plate, and did something
with the electrical gadget.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Lisa wanted all her rings arc welded. She says you agreed to do the
same."

What! I hadn't counted on such a thing! I planned to remove all the
hardware after a few days!

"It doesn't make anything permanent, Doug. You can remove any of
these items with just a wire cutters. The advantage is that you don't
lose your jewelry. Of course, taking it off means breaking it."

Spike used pliers to fasten one end of each chain to my nose rings.
He also fastened the left one to an earring. "I'm using a day old
hole for the chain today, Doug. It's not healed yet, but it won't be
as tender as the ones you're getting today. Also, I used plated
aluminum chains; they won't last too long but they're very light. You
can graduate to something more durable after the holes heal You're
done!"

Words can't describe my feelings as I looked in the mirror. Two small
rings, or even six, were extreme but fashionable. Fourteen earrings,
two nose rings, two nipple rings, and two facial chains were just
bizarre. This practical joke definitely bordered on not being
harmless.

"Spike, Lisa and I definitely accept your invitation for the guest
house. Let's plan to go ahead with the tattoo Monday. Oh, I didn't
mention to Lisa that she'd be under for ten hours. Please don't let
on; I don't want her to be nervous. Is that OK?" It was extremely
distracting to have that damn chain on my lips.

"Sure," said Spike. "Is she expecting more like an hour or so? Yeah?
I did the same for Pokey."

I used Spike's phone to call Drew Picshire at Skin Deep. He set up an
appointment for three artists who would work in shifts to complete one
dragon in ten hours, starting at nine o'clock Monday. I also called
Fulton's Follicle and arranged for them to wax Lisa's crotch at about
nine fifteen.

"Lisa's a lucky girl to have such a generous future husband," said
Spike. "Now, try not to irritate those holes for at least a week.
I'll give you some antiseptic, which you should swab on twice a day,
and a local pain killer you can use as needed."

Chapter 26. Hardware

Lisa, Bonnie, and Pokey were still out front when I emerged. Lisa
couldn't believe her eyes. "Doug, you don't look like yourself at
all! It's great! Was it painful?"

How wonderful, Lisa was glad I didn't look like myself. She never
complained before; maybe I could've grown a mustache or something.

"Yes, it was painful. I don't know if I can ever get used to this,
Lisa. Why did you have everything welded shut?" I asked.

"Well, it does prevent loss. Mainly, though, I thought I'd lose my
nerve. I really want to stick with this for a while and try to get
used to it. We spent a lot of money today; we should give it a
chance."

The business woman with the new "spot" hairdo came in wearing skin
tight stretch shorts and a halter top. She'd obviously been to Skin
Deep; a long stemmed red rose was tattooed on the front of her right
thigh and a centaur adorned her left. She didn't recognize me from
Tress & Less, but assumed I was working at The Piercing Scream.

"Good afternoon. My name is Priscilla Strate. I got my final divorce
papers this morning and now, for the first time in my life, I can be
myself. I want some pussy rings, nipple rings, and more earrings. I
might think about something in the cheek, like that girl over there
has. Can you fit me in this afternoon?"

I decided to play along. "I'll get someone to help you, Mrs. Strate.
If you don't mind my asking, why did you divorce your husband?"

"It's Ms. Strate, and you got it wrong. The bastard divorced me
because of boring sex. Can you believe it?" she asked.

"Well, it's hard to believe as I see you today, Ms. Strate. Why did
you wait until today to be yourself?"

"Are you kidding? This is no way for a married woman to act!" she
replied.

"The Novocain is starting to wear off, Doug. I need to get out of
this tight bra. Can we buy a T-shirt and go home?" asked Lisa.

"We can buy a T-shirt, but I can't imagine going home yet. We'd never
pass the airport metal detectors, and you want to stick with this
metal for a while. Spike has offered to let us use his guest house
over the weekend, and you have a tattoo appointment Monday. Let's
both buy T-shirts, pick up our car, and drive out to Spike's."

"I wouldn't wear a T-shirt, Doug," said Pokey. "There's more
irritation and a greater chance of infection. Lisa would be better
off topless, too, but she'll have to wait till you get to the guest
house."

"Lisa, we're doing this evenly. If you get to wear a T-shirt, I get
to wear a T-shirt. I'll call The Open Palms and let them know we're
checking out."

The damn lip chain was driving me crazy. I went in back to use the
phone and found it already ringing. "Piercing Scream," I answered.

"Doug, is that you? This is Robin. Chip Bildehr is here in my office
with the contract for the MicroMind deal. Can you come over and sign
it?"

I froze. There was no way I could let Chip Bildehr see me as I was.
"Uh, Robin, don't ask me why, but Lisa and I went crazy and had work
done on ourselves. I can't possibly let Chip Bildehr see me today.
Can I talk to Chip on the phone and have the papers delivered by
messenger?"

"Doug, calm down. Chip has been a client of mine since an incident
five years ago. He just came over to drop off the contracts. He
never dreamed I'd find you. In fact, he's just as scared as you are.
What kind of work did you have done?"

"Clipper gave me a haircut, and both Lisa and I had long sessions with
Spike," I said.

"OK. Doug, believe me, if you come here now, it will cement this
contract so firmly you can't believe it. Please come."

I began to suspect Chip Bildehr had a secret of his own. "Robin, is
there a way I can peek at Chip before he sees me? Through a
connecting door, perhaps?"

"How about closed circuit television?" Robin inquired.

I agreed. Spike gave me directions to his property and an ID card to
open the front gate. The guest house would be locked but Pokey
promised to call ahead and tell Marble to let us in. Lisa and I each
bought an Essence Alley T-shirt from Spike, Lisa stuffed her bra top
into her purse, and we headed with Bonnie to Robin's office. Fewer
people were amused at my appearance, more were intrigued, and more
were disgusted. Fewer really foxy women were aroused, but the wildest
ones responded more.

At Robin's office, Georgie was still behind the receptionist's desk.
Lisa was recognized right away, but I had to give my name again.
Georgie registered surprise at first but then adjusted quickly. I
suppose all types show up in Robin's office.

"Robin said we could see Chip Bildehr before meeting him," I
announced.

"Just you, Mr. Trents," said Georgie. I was led to a security room
loaded with cameras, tape recorders, and TV monitors. Robin was
speaking to an attractive woman in his office.

"That is Mr. Bildehr," said Georgie.

"The Mr. Bildehr I know is a man," I replied.

"Just so. That is Mr. Chip Bildehr, of MicroMind Corporation, Mr.
Trents. I expect you and Mr. Bildehr will come to an agreement
regarding the non-work-relatedness of certain leisure activities."

Georgie was right, but I still couldn't face Chip. "Georgie, can I
speak with Mr. Bildehr by phone?"

"Of course. I will dial Ms. Banks' office from here," Georgie
replied.

On the monitor, I saw Robin pick up the phone. Georgie handed me the
receiver.

"Robin, this is Doug. I'm here in your security room, and I've seen
the closed circuit view of your office. Is that really Chip Bildehr
in a dress and long blond hair?"

"Yes. I think you should speak with him," said Robin, and he handed
the phone to his visitor.

I began talking. "Chip, this is Doug. Uh, Chip, this is very
awkward. I'm really not presentable just now. Can we jockey the
papers between offices and meet another time?"

"Doug, I've learned never to be surprised at anything anybody ever
does. You look just as strange with that hardware store on your face
as I do in this dress. You like short hair, I like long. No big
deal. Let's sign the papers and then I'll buy you a beer and a shot.
You can buy me a frozen daiquiri. Is anybody with you?"

I looked up and saw a closed circuit camera pointing straight at me.
The red light was on and Robin obviously had a monitor in his office.
"Well, it's silly talking here by phone. I'll be there in a minute,"
I told Chip.

Georgie led me out of the security room and into Robin's office. Lisa
and Bonnie followed directly behind.

"Lisa and Bonnie, this is Chip Bildehr, plant manager at MicroMind.
This damn lip chain is a nuisance. Chip, this is Lisa Kahr, my
fiancee, and Bonnie Banks of La Cloma."

"Oh, Bonnie and I are old friends. We worked together when he called
himself Barney. Hello, Lisa, pleased to meet you. It looks as if
you're both wired in on the San Francisco scene!"

Actually, Chip looked pretty good. He didn't have a large build to
begin with, and his wig and makeup were quite stylish. He wore a high-
necked full dress that stopped just above his knees. His legs were
shaved and encased in pantyhose. Flat pumps and a purse completed his
outfit.

"You must have a problem finding your size. Where do you buy clothes
and accessories?" asked Lisa.

"Same as you folks, I suppose: Essence Alley. The people at Fitting
Touch area really good at finding women's apparel in men's sizes,"
replied Chip.

"Shall we get to business?" suggested Robin. Chip and I signed a half
dozen papers and initialed ten more. The deal was done.

"Are you folks going to be in town this weekend?" Chip asked.

"Yes, but our host may have something planned for us," I replied.

"Oh, well, if you have nothing to do, give me a call. You can come
over and meet my wife. She's into corsets and bindings these days,"
Chip suggested.

"We'll see how it goes," I replied. "How about that drink, though?"

It was late on a Friday afternoon, so Robin and Georgie closed up
shop. Robin chose a nearby watering hole and we all sat at the bar.
I really felt out of place because Robin, Georgie, Bonnie, and Chip
looked so normal. Of course, I knew their secrets, but mine was
plastered all over my face. Lisa seemed a little depressed too.

I ordered a straight Scotch and rammed the glass right into the damn
lip chain. Pokey's ability to work around her chain seemed ever more
remarkable. I solved the problem by using the cocktail straw, even
though that seemed kind of wimpy.

The rest of the afternoon was downhill. Bonnie drove us back to his
apartment, then I drove back to The Open Palms. I parked in back this
time, and we quickly packed and loaded the car. Not too many people
saw us, and most of them just sighed live-and-let-live. The desk
already had my credit card imprinted, so I just called them and used
instant checkout. To my surprise, I had two messages waiting. One
was from the Chicago office, congratulating me on the MicroMind deal.
The other was from Dr. Allen Damihnd.

The car was loaded, I'd checked out of the room, and we were ready to
go. Pokey was right about the T-shirt; my nipples were starting to
throb and each pull of the fabric made it worse. I figured no one
would notice me in the car, so I pulled off the T-shirt and threw it
on the front seat before getting behind the wheel. Lisa was already
in the car, but to my surprise she pulled off her T-shirt, too. I
pulled out of the parking lot before anyone else noticed.

"Why did we do this, Lisa?" I asked.

"Does it matter, Doug? Maybe I liked the way you responded to Pokey
last night. Maybe I didn't like it. Maybe I feel this is not my real
body anyway, with your cock hanging off it. Maybe I'm just impulsive.
How do I look?"

"You look weird; we both do. You also look wild, impulsive, and
exotic. How about me?"

"You look like an aborigine, or a Brazilian native, or something.
Those are the only images I recall of men with piercing. It looks
kind of virile, though. I like it that we're the same."

By now, we were crossing the San Mateo bridge. I noticed that a semi
truck had been next to us for at least a minute and, sure enough, the
driver was ogling Lisa. She rolled down the window and waved at him,
but I quickly accelerated past a slower truck in his lane. The truck
driver started talking on his CB radio. I threw my T-shirt over my
shoulders as we went through the toll both at the West end of the
bridge. Lisa had no such reservations but the guy was too busy to
notice.

Chapter 27. New Arrangements

"Lisa, are you wondering why all these people are taking such an
interest in us?" I asked.

"Are you worried about it?" she answered.

"Well, six people rearranged their schedules for us, they made us the
guests of honor at a dinner party, they contrived to keep us out of
our clothes, they had sex with us, they set up a business deal for me,
and now they're giving us a place to live. They must want something
from us and I'd like to know what it is," I explained.

"Oh yeah, just like the old song, 'Welcome to the Hotel California.'
What are you suspicious of, Doug? I don't think anything sinister is
going on," Lisa observed.

"Well, they must have some motive beyond just meeting new people."

"Maybe not, Doug. Let's wait and see."

Reaching our destination took another thirty minutes. The property
was outside of town and well off the main road. A private drive led
to a tall unmarked oaken gate, which was locked. A six-foot adobe
wall surrounded the property. Several mailboxes and one larger
opening were set into the wall near the gate. I pushed Spike's ID
card into a slot reader and the gate swung open.

Inside, the drive forked into three. Two roads ran left and right
along the inside of the wall. The center drive led to a circular
parkway paved in brick. Done in Spanish mission style, the two main
houses were at right angles on the far side of the circle. A fountain
and circular hedge filled in the center.

"This is some place. What are we supposed to do?" asked Lisa.

"Marble is supposed to open the guest house for us. I wonder which
house belongs to the Strands," I replied.

I got out of the car, pulled on my T-shirt, and knocked on both front
doors. When that didn't work, I got back into the car and beeped the
horn a few times. Two minutes later, Lisa spotted a nude, hairless,
teenage girl skating toward us on Roller Blades. She stopped on
Lisa's side of the car and put her hands on the roof as she peered in.

"Hi, you must be Doug and Lisa. I'm Marble. Mrs. Pearson said you
were coming. Do you know the way to the guest house?" she asked.

I tried to look at her face rather than her tits. "No, we've never
been here before," I replied.

"OK, I've got the key in my hand. Follow me," Marble instructed. She
couldn't skate on the brick parkway but stayed on the concrete
sidewalk. After heading first toward the gate she turned left to
follow the access road along the wall. Marble had an attractive
figure with the same great legs and butt as her mother. Her ass
cheeks pulsed seductively as she skated. Her skin was golden brown
and had no tan lines whatsoever. I kept reminding myself she was only
fourteen.

The guest house was in the back corner of the property. Marble skated
across the parking area then stopped, faced us, and held up her hand.
"This is it," she called out.

Lisa and I got out of the car and followed Marble to the front door.
Through some bushes I could see a large swimming pool, hot tub, and
tennis courts. The pool deck had several groupings of patio
furniture, including some tables with umbrella shades. Six flagpoles
of various heights stood in a cluster at the southeast edge of the
deck. It was like a resort!

Marble unlocked the front door and handed me the key. We entered into
the living room, which was large and stylish. There were three
loosely matched easy chairs, a sofa, a well-stocked bookcase, TV,
stereo, several paintings, and a large picture window facing the pool.

"I'm sorry it's so stuffy in here," Marble said. "We keep it closed
up tight so it doesn't get dusty. I'd take off those clothes and open
the windows if I were you."

"Does your mother know you skate in the nude when she's away?" Lisa
asked.

"Yeah, I don't know how, but she can always tell if I've been sneaking
on clothes. We keep arguing about it. I have to wear clothes
whenever I go out, so why can't I wear them at home?"

"That's between you and your mother," said Lisa. "What about dinner?"

"We don't wear clothes for that, either," replied Marble. "Tennis is
about the only thing, if the court is slippery."

"No, I mean, should we plan on going out for dinner or what?" I asked.

"Well, the cooks have Friday evening off so Shag and I usually order
pizza. My dad called the grocers and ordered some stuff for you guys,
too. Oh yeah, I should turn on the fridge," said Marble. She hobbled
across the living room rug then skated across the kitchen to the
refrigerator. After turning it on, she showed us where to find
dishes, pantry items, silverware, and other essentials. Finally, she
hobbled back into the living room, opened a few windows, and plopped
into an easy chair.

"How can you stand those clothes? It's so stuffy! You have blood on
your T-shirt, there, too," she said, pointing to my chest. Sure
enough, my nipple ring was oozing.

"Mrs. Pearson has that problem sometimes when she gets something new.
She says it helps to go swimming," said Marble.

A swim seemed like a great idea. "Where do we change?" I asked.

"Think, Doug," said Lisa stepping out of her shorts. "It really is
stuffy in here. Marble, where is the bedroom?"

"Hey, you're like Bonnie Banks. Are you like Robin Banks, sir?"
Marble asked.

"My name is Doug Trents, and you can call me Doug unless your parents
prefer Mr. Trents. Yes, I suppose I'm like Robin. Do the Banks's
visit here often?"

"They stop by every week or two. Do you want to sit down, or swim, or
what?" asked Marble.

"I want to put my clothes someplace, and we need to unload the car.
Where's the bedroom?" Lisa asked again.

"Oh, the bedroom is down the hall. Just put your clothes in the
hamper and the maid will get them washed. Hank will unload the car
for you. I'll call him," said Marble, taking a phone from the end
table. She punched two digits, then hung up. A minute later, the
phone rang and Marble answered.

"Hi, Hank. The visitors have arrived... That's right, they need the
car unloaded... OK, thanks," said Marble before hanging up.

"How can you stand those pants?" she asked me.

"Let's find the bedroom," I suggested to Lisa.

"Should I come back later?" Marble asked cautiously.

"No, we'll be right back," I replied.

The bedroom was luxurious. The furniture included a king sized bed,
night stands, two dressers, a couch, and an entertainment center.
Everything was Spanish oak with a dark finish. I opened the two large
windows and the patio door. Outside was a small deck with a private
sunken hot tub. The attached bath was bigger than my bedroom in
Chicago; it had two marble sinks, a makeup table, a shower cabinet for
two, a sunken double bathtub with water jets, and a separate toilet
stall.

Lisa tossed her shorts into the hamper, cocked her hips, and raised an
eyebrow questioningly. Nude, her buzzed hair, pierced nipples, nose
rings, and chains made her look even more bizarre and exotic than
before. Compared to her face, the cock between her legs seemed almost
normal. "Smooth will give you a spanking if you insist on running
around with your clothes on," she said.

I had to pee anyway, so I threw my pants into the hamper and sauntered
into the bathroom. To my surprise, Lisa followed me and stood in the
tub. "We've never done this together. Let's try it," she said.

"Done what?" I asked.

She replied, "Piss, of course. Come here in the tub with me."

Lisa squatted with her back to the faucets and I squatted at the other
end facing her. "Ready, set, go," she counted. A moment later, we
were both releasing a golden flow. Lisa pointed my cock so the
streams mixed. Soon, we were both drained. "So, was it good for
you?" I asked.

"Well, it was different. I guess we better rinse the tub, and my feet
could use it too," she answered, turning on the faucet. We swished
the water around with our feet and then stepped out and dried
ourselves. It seemed very odd to walk naked into the living room
straight from taking a piss. Marble was still sitting in the same
chair but had struck up a conversation with Hank, who had just
arrived.

Hank was leaning against the front door frame, nude in accordance with
house rules. His curly black hair and olive skin looked Italian, and
he obviously spent a lot of time working out. He had broad shoulders,
a washboard stomach, and narrow hips. His uncircumcised cock was long
and thick, in proportion with the rest of his body mass. He had a
deep over-all tan and no hair on his body anywhere below the neck.
His age was in the low twenties.

"Hi, I'm Hank Caropi. Marble says you need your things unpacked.
Just show me which bedroom and give me the keys."

"OK, sure, let me show you to the bedroom, Hank," said Lisa.

"I don't have the keys on me. I'll have to come along," I said.

"It looks like you're both going through some changes," Hank noted as
we headed toward the back. Lisa was led the way and I brought up the
rear. I'm not really into male butts, but Hank's was a good one: firm
and dimpled. Hank volunteered to put our toilet articles in the
bathroom, hang up our clean clothes, and sort the dirty ones into the
hamper. I didn't think people had servants anymore.

"Hank, do you work here or are you part of the family?" I asked.

He replied, "Both, Mr. Trents. Pokey is my aunt. I'm trying to break
into professional body building. I tried having a job, but then I
didn't have time to train. When I quit working, my parents kicked me
out. Aunt Pokey gives me room and board for doing odd jobs. Uncle
Spike bought a set of weights and Nautilus equipment for me. He says
I'm working hard at something, even though it's not a job."

Hank was sincere, if not highly intelligent. "Well, here are the car
keys, Hank. You can leave my golf bag in the car. Oh, please call us
Doug and Lisa. We're not formal," I said.

Hank looked up and down our nude, decorated bodies. "No, I guess
you're not. OK, Mr. Trents, I'll call you Doug. I put some beer in
the fridge for you. See you later!"

Marble had switched on the television. She was lying on the couch
with her head on a pillow, one skate on the floor and the other draped
over the back rest. This was rather distracting, to say the least. I
had to remind myself again that she was only fourteen.

"Which way is the pool?" I asked.

Marble turned her head unabashedly toward me. "Are you guys finally
ready? Let's go!" she said.

A short path led from the guest house to the pool area. The pool
itself was about a hundred feet long and kidney shaped; the widest
part was about thirty-five feet. One end was set up for diving and
the other for water games. Both main houses had large roofed patios
at the edge of the deck. There was a cabana with four bar stools and
a wet bar. A stack of clean towels and a tray of glasses had been put
out for whoever needed them.

My ears, nose, and nipples were quite sore, and I opted not to dive
in. Lisa did the same. Marble had no such restraints; as we used the
underwater steps, she jackknifed off the diving board. I slowly
immersed my chest into the water. The chlorine stung the piercing
holes at first, then subsided. Tilting my head back and then dunking
under produced the same results for my nose and ears. The sensation
of water entering Lisa's pussy was extremely odd. Showering hadn't
prepared me for that at all.

Lisa seemed to be going through a routine similar to mine. Marble
swam two laps before approaching us, then stood a few feet away with
water dripping off her tits. This was even more distracting than her
routine on the couch. She rubbed the heel of her palms over her eyes.

"I hate the way water gets in my eyes. Do you think having eyebrows
and eyelashes helps?" she asked.

"I've never tried it without," said Lisa. "I still get water in my
eyes, though."

"Yeah, that's what everybody says. I wish I could be hairy for a day,
just to try it," said Marble.

I tried swimming but the water pulled painfully at my nipple rings.
Marble resumed swimming laps while Lisa and I waded, floated, and
dunked. Welding on the jewelry rings began to seem like a good idea;
I'm sure some would have been lost in the pool. Lisa seemed lost in
thought.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Doug, I'm wondering how to explain this to people I know. I feel
I've changed into a new person; more assertive, less conventional.
Now, I'm wondering how that new person should live, should dress,
should act. What do you think?"

"I think that unless I have this hardware removed, I'm going to need a
new career. I'd look ridiculous in a business suit," I replied.

"What kind of career did you have in mind?" Lisa queried.

"I don't have one in mind; maybe that's partly why I'm upset. A start-
up company like Bonnie and Clipper's seems OK, though."

"Marble, are you ready for dinner?" called a naked boy by the patio.
It had to be Shag; he had hair past his waist. His skin was brown as
a pinto bean and he had some sort of strap slung over his shoulder.
The impression of a jungle native was impossible to avoid.

"Come here, Shag," called Marble, then she turned to us and asked if
we wanted pizza. I was ready to eat anything. Lisa conceded that a
few slices of vegetarian pizza wouldn't upset her diet plan very much.

Shag was standing on the diving board, ready to jump in, when Marble
shouted," You better not do it, Shag. Your hair will get all tangled
and I don't feel like combing it. Mom will skin you alive."

"You're a jerk, Marble. Why did I get stuck with the hair? I wish I
could cut it all off!"

"Get a medium vegetarian pizza and three different large ones," Marble
shouted, and Shag went back in the house.

"Were you teasing him or does he really need to stay out of the pool?"
asked Lisa.

"Mom is a fanatic about his damn hair, just like Dad's. I get stuck
combing it out often enough as it is. He gets on my case, too. Once,
on the way to the mall, he threw my wig over a bridge. I needed a
pink blouse for drama class the next day, and there was no time to go
home. I spent the next two hours getting stared at by everybody in
the damn mall."

"I'm surprised your mom didn't buy you a hat or something," I replied.

"Oh, she said I should learn to accept myself as I am. Instead of
buying me a hat, she left hers in the car."

"Well, I'm ready to get out," said Lisa.

"Me, too," I said. We dried ourselves carefully by the cabana and
Lisa sat down on a lounge chair. She was shocked at how much my cock
had shriveled in the water.

"Doug, we really should put on antiseptic, don't you think? Would you
go and get it?" she asked.

I walked back to the guest house and found the antiseptic and cotton
balls in the bathroom. On the way out, I remembered the beer Hank
brought and headed for the kitchen. To my surprise, Hank and a much
smaller clothed fellow were tightly embraced. Hank's eyes were closed
and his tongue seemed to be in the smaller man's cheek. I quietly
headed outside and noticed a grocery van parked behind the guest
house.

Lisa swabbed my piercings and I did hers. Marble had her skates back
on, and Shag had donned a pair himself. They chased each other around
the pool and tennis courts until a high pitched alarm beeped three
times.

"That's the pizza," said Marble.

I heard a motor start and noticed the grocery van headed back to the
gate. Hank followed right behind in a golf cart. Somehow, he let the
van out and the pizza in; I found out later that the larger opening by
the mailbox was a pass-through. Hank drove the golf cart to Pearson's
back door, fetched some drinks, and delivered everything to us where
we sat. He also picked up another passenger.

She was a black woman, very tall, with small breasts and graceful
hips. She wore two large gold hoop earrings and gold chains on her
neck, waist, and ankles. This completed her outfit. She had a large
mass of pubic hair but Clipper's hand was apparent on top. Most of
her head was stubble except for a diamond of short tightly-packed hair
running from the front hairline to the back of her head. The left and
right corners arched down to a point just above her ears.

She had a Jamaican accent. "Hello. My name is Cynthia Hartmoore. I
don't believe we've met."

"My name is Doug Trents and this is my fiancee, Lisa Kahr. We're
visiting from Chicago, and we're very pleased to meet you, Cynthia," I
replied.

"Styles in Chicago have apparently changed since I last visited. I'm
pleased to meet you also. Will you be staying long?" she responded.

"About a week, I suppose. We'll be in the guest house," I told her.
She was so proper and polite it was hard not to be open. Also, she
looked great without clothes.

"I'm the maid and I keep the accounts," she replied. "I got my MBA at
Stanford and passed my CPA exam, but I don't like city life, small
towns, or Caribbean islands."

"You seem over-qualified for a maid," Lisa noted.

"I'm comptroller of seven corporations for Spike, Clipper, Bonnie, and
Robin, in various combinations. That only takes one or two days a
week, though. The rest of the time, I clean up. It's honorable: my
mother did it for sixty years."

"Are we going to eat or what?" asked Shag.

Hank and Cynthia gave us all the pizzas but one, and all the drinks
except for one Perrier and one Red Stripe beer, explaining they didn't
eat with the family or guests. This seemed like a rather artificial
distinction, but I doubted that Hank had any attachment to Cynthia,
either. The pizza was delicious, the air was warm, and the sky was
golden orange from the setting sun. I just wished the damn lip chain
would stop getting in the way, and ended up using one hand to hold it
aside. This seemed ridiculous and I resolved to use a knife and fork
in the future. Reflecting, I thought I'd probably never eat another
hot dog or hamburger. Shag giggled at our problem, but Marble hushed
him.

As the sun set, the air got chilly and everyone went inside. Shag and
Marble went to their rooms. Hank and Cynthia cleaned up the empty
boxes and bottles, then drove off in the golf cart toward Pearson's.
Lisa and I returned to the guest house, which was fully aired out and
starting to get chilly. I closed most of the windows and we went to
bed early. There was only one comfortable way to lie in bed: on our
backs, with the sheets at our waists. Every time I rolled over,
something hurt. The local pain killer from Spike helped some, but
neither of us slept well.

Chapter 28. Hiatus Saturday, Week 2

The phone woke me at seven thirty in the morning. It was Smooth.

"Hi, Doug, is that you? The kids told me you went to bed early; I
hope I didn't wake you. Sorry we didn't see you last night; Essence
Alley stays open until midnight on Fridays and Saturdays, you know.
Anyway, breakfast is from eight to nine, on the patio. You're welcome
to join us."

I thanked Smooth and hung up. By then, Lisa was awake. She threw off
the covers and revealed an erection. I reminded her that Dr. Bohnes
said I could get pregnant, and she responded by fishing a condom out
of her purse. Lisa tore open the packet as I crawled across the bed
toward her. We kissed, but the damn lip chains got in the way. I
tried to kiss her breasts, but they were too sore from the nipple
rings. In the end, I stroked her butt and the small of her back, and
Lisa did mine. Lisa rolled the condom onto my cock and maneuvered it
into her pussy, which by then was very wet. I was on my back and Lisa
was kneeling over me. If she moved very much, her breasts swayed and
the nipple rings hurt. She did a slow grind of my cock against me,
massaging her clitoris. In return, I used Lisa's pussy muscles to
massage my cock for her. We continued this slow motion dance for
quite a while. Suddenly, I sensed Lisa cumming, relaxed, and let
sensation overwhelm me as well. We pulled apart.

"Good morning," Lisa greeted me.

Lisa's pussy smelled delicious so I decided I needed a bath. "Howdy.
Are you having a good day so far? Breakfast is from eight to nine.
It's almost eight o'clock now and I need a bath. Will you join me?" I
asked.

"What about the hot tub?" she asked.

I walked outside and examined the equipment. There was a panel of
switches for controlling the various pumps, filters, and heaters. A
sign provided instructions, and warned that heating up the water took
twenty to thirty minutes.

Filling the bathtub took only ten minutes. The satyr transfer on
Lisa's arm and the stemmed rose on her thigh were two days old and
fading badly. I removed the last traces with solvent, then we relaxed
together in the tub. I stroked my cock with my foot as she massaged
her pussy. We washed and shampooed each other, then scurried into the
shower stall to rinse. Drying was a mutual affair, complicated by the
tenderness around the piercings. I was ready to face the world, but
Lisa insisted on wearing makeup. Since I wasn't getting dressed, I
went into the living room to wait. I sat by the telephone and
remembered the messages I received Friday at the hotel.

First I called my boss, Eric Tower, at the office. As I expected, he
wasn't there, but I left a message on his machine thanking him for
calling about the MicroMind account. I also told him I'd be taking
the next week as vacation. Next, I called Phylen Tipe, my secretary.
It was ten o'clock in Chicago and she'd come in to do some last minute
work needed Monday morning. After telling her about my vacation and
giving her the guest house phone number, I asked for a special favor.
After locking my keys in the car once, I started keeping a spare set
of keys in my desk. I asked Phylen to locate the keys, go to my
apartment, get the jewelry tray out of my dresser, and send the
contents to me by overnight express from the office Monday. I dated
Phylen briefly before I met Lisa and knew this wasn't out of her way.
She readily agreed.

Lisa was finished with her makeup and heard the last part of my
conversation. She thought this was a wonderful idea, and called Mera
Thonn at Fit & Trim Salon to ask for the same favor. Lisa and Mera
lived in the same apartment complex, so it really wasn't much trouble.
Mera was disappointed that Lisa would be away for another week, but
said that Tina Tates, who was filling in, could stay on.

I told Lisa we needed to return Dr. Damihnd's call but she was anxious
for breakfast. It was chilly in the shade around the guest house, but
warmer where the sun was shining on the pool deck. Breakfast was set
out on a long table near the Strands' back door. Smooth, Clipper, and
Shag were already eating. Clipper told us to select our breakfast and
then sit with them.

The serving table was loaded with fruit, several kinds of bread and
rolls, butter and other preserves, and uncooked eggs, bacon, sausage,
and omelet ingredients. A thinly-built fellow in his thirties stood
on the far side.

"Good morning, sir and madam. My name is Dan. What can I prepare for
you?" he asked.

"My name is Lisa. I'll have half a grapefruit and wheat toast with
cream cheese," said Lisa.

"My name's Doug, Dan. Provolone and mushroom omelet with a bagel for
me," I replied.

"Do you want your grapefruit halved or in sections, Lisa? Halved?
Fine. Three-egg omelet, Doug? Sure. Will that bagel be regular,
onion, or caraway? Caraway. Coffee for you both? Please sit down.
I'll bring your food in five minutes," Dan said.

We sat down and said good morning to Smooth, Clipper, and Shag.
"Where do you get these servants?" I asked Clipper.

"Oh, they aren't servants. Dan and his sister Dee are graduate
students up at Berkeley. Both have worked in some of the finest
dining rooms and kitchens in San Francisco. We don't need cooks for
lunch Monday through Friday, and we give them Friday night and Sunday
night off. They alternate working Saturday nights. They get room,
board, predictable hours, use of a car, and excellent study
facilities. They're twins, fraternal, you know. I've met the
Tweedles; they're wonderful people who've been in the restaurant
business thirty years."

Dan and Dee Tweedle, the twins. I began looking for Alice and the Mad
Hatter. Shag went inside.

"Is there anything planned for today?" I asked.

"Essence Alley is open from ten in the morning to midnight. That's
sort of fills up the day for us and the Pearsons. Tomorrow, we're
open from noon to nine. We're better hosts during the week, because
one of us can usually be home. Enjoy the pool, play tennis, take care
of personal business, and relax. Work out with Hank, if you like;
he's at it every day."

Dan delivered our food just as Pokey and Spike arrived. I never
thought I'd see a guy fry eggs in the nude, but Dan seemed to have no
problem. Pokey tossed a dress over a chair before sitting down. She
was wearing a long necklace threaded through her nipple rings. A foot-
long chain hung from each pussy ring. I hadn't seen Spike without his
pants before; he had a long thin cock with a D-ring embedded at the
top. His butt was firm and rounded. Tattooed on his right hip was a
sumptuous nude woman crawling on all fours. Her trailing foot was on
his ass and her leading hand reached for his cock. Wrapped around his
left hip was a demon, complete with horns and a tail, crawling in
pursuit of the nude woman.

"Good morning, Lisa and Doug. I guess you didn't see these tattoos
before. I sure lost the bet that time; never thought the A's would
beat the Giants in four."

"Did Pokey pick those figures?" asked Lisa.

"Oh, yeah, I like traditional oriental stuff. She still owes me for
last Thursday, though. I'm deciding between a tattoo and a piercing.
I like the idea of a flower wreath circling her thigh where a garter
would usually be. What do you think, Doug?"

"If that's agreeable to you both, it's fine with me," I replied.

"Doug arranged for me to get a tattoo Monday. It's a gift," said
Lisa.

"Oh, where? What design?" asked Pokey.

"It's a secret," I replied.

Clipper and Smooth got up and headed for the house while I was
chatting with Spike and Pokey. I was beginning to develop a sincere
curiosity about Smooth's pussy. I'd just eaten breakfast with her in
the nude and still had no idea what it looked like. It was probably a
lot like Marble's, neat and compact with inner lips tucked away
safely; hairless, of course. Still, I wanted to know.

Spike and Pokey ate their breakfast while Lisa and I enjoyed the
morning air. I was having a lot of trouble drinking coffee with the
damn lip chain in the way, and noticed that Pokey had chosen iced tea
with a straw. Eating the bagel wasn't any easier. Smooth came out
dressed in royal blue lycra tights and a thin, loose fitting white
blouse. Clipper wore cotton pants and a tank top. They said good-bye
and headed toward the garage for their car.

Pokey stood up and put on her dress. The bottom was ruffled and
exposed four or five inches of her pussy chains. The top was a loose,
front-only bodice which tied behind the neck and was cut to the waist.
"Let's go," she said to Spike.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Spike?" asked Lisa.

"Oh, we have a motor home. Pokey usually drives and I get dressed at
the last minute. I always have Cynthia put my clean work clothes
there. Breakfast is the same time tomorrow. Have a good day!" said
Spike.

We called Dr. Damihnd and got his machine, as I expected. Lisa gave
him the guest house number and asked him to call Monday afternoon. We
relaxed a while, then worked out with Hank for about an hour. Many of
the exercises didn't agree with our tender ears, noses, and nipples,
but we did get a good workout. After a swim, we tried playing doubles
tennis with Dan and Dee, but our sore skin got in the way again. Lisa
called her mother and assured her everything was OK, not mentioning
our new appearance.

Marble had friends over to sunbathe in the afternoon. We left them in
peace until they got dressed and headed out for dinner and a movie. A
swim before dinner was refreshing in the extreme, then Dee served
marinated red snapper with lentil soup, stir fried cauliflower, and
wild rice. The wine was excellent. Hank led us to Clipper's large
video library: we took "Ghost" and watched it in the guest house
bedroom. Finally, we soaked in the hot tub for twenty minutes, fucked
our brains out, and slept.

Chapter 29. Clothing Remarks Sunday, Week 2

Sunday morning we got up at 7:30 and showered individually. I checked
my ear, nose, and nipple rings for infection and discovered no
problems. I also discovered that the dangling part of my earrings was
removable; the only parts welded shut were small gold loops. Lisa put
on her makeup while I waited in the living room.

At breakfast, Smooth and Clipper were seated as they were the day
before. Dee was serving; I had an omelet, country muffin, and iced
tea. Lisa had diced melon, dry wheat toast, and milk with a straw.

"Do you have any plans for today, Doug?" asked Smooth.

"I feel like going out, but I don't know where. My old, conservative
clothes wouldn't look right with the new haircut and jewelry."

"I know what you mean," said Clipper. "If you're going to take your
own road, don't do it half way. Go all out, and then even the people
who don't agree with you will respect your commitment."

"Maybe we should go shopping, Doug," Lisa suggested.

"Just like a woman! You're right, though. My credit cards are
holding out for now," I replied.

Hank and Cynthia came out and sat at another table. While my head was
turned, Smooth took the opportunity to get up and head for the house.
My curiosity about her pussy increased. Spike and Pokey arrived a
minute later. Pokey had a tattooed wreath of green leaves and red
flowers circling her thigh four inches above the knee.

"How are you folks doing today?" asked Spike. "Any sign of infection?
Extreme soreness?"

"No big problems, just minor soreness," Lisa answered.

"Mirrors are a problem," I noted.

"Well, your jewelry can be removed in twenty minutes with no more than
a wire cutters. However, you've done something most people wouldn't
think of; if you don't know why, maybe you should play it out. I'll
bet you learn something about yourselves."

"What Spike said makes sense, Doug," said Lisa.

"What styles do the piercing and tattoo crowds wear these days?" I
asked.

Clipper replied, "I have some magazines inside you can look at, Doug.
I cut pictures out of them for the hairstyle books at the shop. You
and Lisa are welcome to browse."

"Thanks, Clipper. I'd like that." Maybe I'd get a look at Smooth,
too, I thought.

Clipper's living room was spacious and understated. Smooth was
sitting on the left side of the couch with her legs crossed. I sat
next to her, and Lisa sat on the right side. It was odd to sit bare-
assed on the furniture, and I asked Clipper about it. He explained
that all the furniture had at least two sets of matching slip covers
that were sent out for cleaning regularly. A stack of magazines was
on the coffee table.

Black seemed to be the favorite color, and leather the favorite
material. There was another style that favored body building, smooth
chests, and muscle shirts. I couldn't relate to bondage and
discipline styles at all; ball gags and hoods did nothing for me.

For women, styles favored anything bizarre that failed to provide
basic cover. Torn cutoffs, hot pants, and miniskirts appeared
frequently. Footwear favored boots of various kinds. Tops were
vests, halters, skimpy tank tops, and assorted underwear. Stockings
and pantyhose were uncommon, especially for women with tattooed legs.
Small metal sunglasses were popular with both sexes.

I was looking intently at one of the photos when Smooth suddenly stood
up and walked upstairs. I'd missed her pussy again. I became
convinced she was playing a game with me.

To kill some time, we put on shoes and took a walk around the service
road, which circled the entire perimeter. Part of the property was
still undeveloped, and there was room for at least one more house.
The neighboring property to the East and South was vacant. The North
wall faced the road. To the West was another large estate; tall
shrubbery had been planted along that wall. We took an impromptu
swim, dried, and headed back to get dressed.

In talking things over, we discovered both of us craved more metal on
our bodies. We decided to look for round, metal frame sunglasses,
rings, bracelets, and necklaces. Also, we agreed not to get any more
piercings.

I'd already spent about five hundred dollars on clothes for Lisa and
myself, and now seemed likely to spend another thousand on more
clothes and jewelry. Lisa's tattoo would be another thousand; two, if
I could persuade her to get the pair. I could handle it, but only by
taking money out of various long-term accounts. Lisa seemed to be in
a similar position. Oh well.

Lisa and I went back to the guest house and surveyed our wardrobes.
This was fairly easy because everything was washed and neatly hung. I
had nothing as extreme as the magazines showed, with the possible
exception of the parachute pants and hat. Lisa had her baggy bib
shorts from Thursday and her men's cutoffs and jeans. The yellow sun
dress and the black and silver outfit I bought were hopeless. The
rest of her clothes revealed the bulge of my cock.

We hadn't worn clothes since Friday afternoon, and they almost seemed
strange after a day and a half in the nude. Lisa wore her cutoffs,
some knee socks borrowed from Marble, and the pink lycra bra from
Thursday. She complained about her nipple rings, and had to use
Spike's pain killer. I wore my hiking shorts and avoided nipple pain
by borrowing a muscle shirt from Hank.

Walking toward Smooth and Clipper's house, I passed Marble.
Apparently, she was staying home and therefore remained nude. She
smiled, raised the skin over one eye, and shook her index finger at me
impishly. Smooth answered my knock at the back door. She wore a one
piece lycra jumpsuit that was low-cut, mostly backless, and short on
the thigh. My curiosity about her was killing me.

"Should we follow you to Essence Ally, or what?" I asked.

"You needn't bother. We'll all find each other, I'm sure. The front
gate opens automatically from the inside. Do you have a key card to
get back in?"

I still had the card Spike gave me, so I thanked Smooth and returned
to the guest house. On the way I passed both Hank and Marble;
surprisingly, I felt very self conscious about having clothes on. I
grabbed my wallet, keys, and sunglasses, Lisa grabbed her purse, and
we were on our way.

Chapter 30 Mother Necessity

Even though it was Sunday morning, I had to drive around the
neighborhood for twenty minutes before finding a parking place. The
street was hilly and we both had trouble getting out of the car
because of the crazy tilt. We walked six blocks to Essence Alley,
passing all kinds of people out for a stroll. Many had come just to
look at the weirdoes, and we didn't disappoint them. One guy in boots
and a leather jacket nearly drove his Harley Davidson into a truck as
he stared at us.

The stores in Essence Alley were just opening. Lisa headed straight
to Vibrant Shades and picked out some sunglasses with decorated metal
frames and small round lenses. With all the people staring at us, I'm
sure she wanted to stare back without letting on. I decided that my
plastic sunglasses didn't match my metal jewelry and bought a metal
pair myself.

Lisa's tight bra top was bothering her again, so we visited Any Bodies
and met Dick and Andrea Shortz, the owners. They treated us like
first class customers after Lisa mentioned we were staying with the
Strands and Pearsons. Andrea helped Lisa find a loose-fitting
camisole top and a black lace corset that didn't rub her nipples..
She also suggested that Lisa wear underwear to keep my cock in place.
Lisa objected until Andrea brought out a tray of men's T-back briefs
in various pastel colors. Andrea suggested a style with very thin
straps, and Lisa bought one pair in pink and another in baby blue.
Lisa insisted that I buy more panties, but I countered by locating
some crotchless cotton T-backs.

We needed outerwear too so Andrea directed us to Fitting Touch, run by
Ann and Andy Reghatti. I bought some baggy black shorts that covered
my knees, two muscle shirts, and a denim vest. The muscle shirts left
my nipples bare and thus avoided any irritation. Andy showed me
several codpieces but I took a pass. I decided to wear my new shorts,
an orange muscle shirt, and the vest. Andy found me some orange socks
to match the shirt. Lisa told Ann about my cock creating a bulge, and
Andrea found some shorts that were baggy in front yet very tight and
revealing in back. Lisa wore the camisole and the smallest pair of
shorts.

Until then, we'd been wearing running shoes almost all the time. We
needed something more radical to go with our new outfits, so we
visited Ann's Hides. Inside were leather clothes and accessories of
all kinds: skirts, dresses, vests, jackets, pants, handbags, shoes,
cuffs, hats, helmets, and restraints. Lisa bought a very skimpy black
leather bra top that barely covered the front of her breasts, a tan
suede vest, and a pair of high-top low-heel studded ankle boots in
black. I bought a studded vest and some high-tops, both in black
leather.

By then, it was two o'clock and we had lunch at Chain Ring Bouquet.
As on Friday, our waitress was Havka; the same tattooed lizard was
still crawling up the back of her thigh. It was a warm day and the
restaurant was crowded. I ordered a grilled chicken and guacamole
sandwich and Lisa had a small chef salad.

"So, are we having fun yet?" I asked.

"Oh, Doug, I can't believe the reaction we get from people. They
might be shocked, intrigued, or disgusted, but nobody's neutral. I
think we're really causing getting people to think!" she answered.

"They think we're a couple of weirdoes, if you ask me. Have you
looked at yourself lately? What do you think?" I asked.

"Sure, I've looked in the mirror. The person I see isn't me, though.
The self I remember is a conscientious fitness instructor who liked
surprising her handsome fiancee. Now, I don't know the person in the
mirror. It's someone who's very courageous about making her own
decisions with no regard to convention."

I wasn't expecting a philosophy lecture. "Well, I haven't been
feeling much like Doug Trents, ace marketing rep for Quixotic Designs.
What troubles me is not knowing where I'm headed."

"If we're true to ourselves and take opportunities as they come, we'll
do OK," Lisa asserted.

Just then I noticed Priscilla Strate waiting for a table. Lisa
remembered her only vaguely but, to me, Priscilla was a fellow
traveler. I got Priscilla's attention and waved her toward our table.

"Hi, I'm Doug Trents. We met Friday, first at Tress & Less and then
at Piercing Scream. This is my fiancee, Lisa Kahr. Would you like to
sit with us?" I asked Priscilla.

"Actually, I remember seeing you both at Piercing Scream. I thought
you worked there. There seems to be a long wait for tables, so I'd be
glad to join you. Are you sure you don't mind?" Priscilla asked Lisa.

"Oh, please sit down. We can swap stories," said Lisa.

Priscilla Strate looked nothing like the long-haired woman in the
business suit I met in the waiting room at Tress & Less. Of course,
she still had the "spot" haircut, the rose tattoo on her thigh, and
the centaur on her shoulder. Each ear was pierced with a dozen narrow
rings gradually increasing in size from top to bottom. She had two
nose rings and two cheek studs on the left side of her face. She was
wearing a lace nylon camisole in ivory, matching tap pants, and black
high heels. Two nipple rings were visible through the camisole.
There was a ring on every finger and a mass of metal bracelets on each
wrist. She had a leather cuff buckled to her right ankle and a wrist
watch on her left.

As she sat and crossed her legs, Priscilla highlighted her most
intriguing decoration. It was a large tattooed warrior, nude, on the
front of her left thigh. His right foot pushed off her kneecap, and
his left leg was bent in a climbing position. The arms were stretched
around Priscilla's thigh as if the warrior were hanging on for dear
life. The shoulders disappeared under her tap pants; from the look of
it, the warrior's head was right over Priscilla's pussy.

"So, as I remember it, you folks have changed a lot in the past few
days," said Priscilla. "My divorce came through; what happened to you
folks?"

"Oh, it started with some unusual sex. One thing led to another,"
said Lisa.

"I didn't know where I was headed Friday morning, but I like were I
ended up. I'm just hoping for a massive final settlement and no
problems at work," Priscilla confided.

"Isn't the settlement finalized?" I asked.

"I filed for a modification. At the first hearing, my ex-husband
complained about boring sex. The judge was a sex-crazed old coot who
winked at my ex and awarded me next to nothing. I don't think the
boring sex argument will hold up any more, do you?"

"No, I don't think it will. Uh, Priscilla, is that underwear you have
on?" I asked.

"Well, nothing's over it, so how can it be underwear?" she responded.

"What's the problem with work?" Lisa asked.

"Nothing, I hope. I threw away most of my old clothes yesterday
morning; slacks, shorts, panties, business suits, swim suits, anything
else that looked dowdy. Another librarian told me the section manager
is into submission, so I'm gambling that I can strip and order him to
keep me on."

"Priscilla, that's a bold plan. Let me give you the name of an
excellent lawyer. Her name is Robin Banks." I borrowed a pen from
Lisa and wrote Robin's name and address on a napkin.

"I'm surprised you two don't have any tattoos," noted Priscilla.

"We're coming back tomorrow," I said.

"That guy crawling up your leg is fantastic. The head must have been
painful, though," said Lisa.

"Actually, he's headless for now. I wanted to get my pussy shaved,
tattooed, and pierced, but the tattoo guy talked me out of it. He
says shaving or waxing around a pussy ring is difficult and leads to
infection, so I need electrolysis. Electrolysis is more difficult and
expensive on tattooed skin, because the hair and roots are hard to
see. All in all, I need to visit Fulton's Follicle three times a week
for six months before my warrior gets his head."

Suddenly, Priscilla's frustration began to look like an opportunity.
There had to be a way of zapping the hairs in a given area all at
once. I resolved to visit Fulton's Follicle.

Lisa and I had finished eating, so we exchanged phone numbers with
Priscilla and went exploring for metal. It was hard to find matching
pieces but we each bought five rings, three necklaces, and six
bracelets. Two of the necklace styles were very long and we wore them
crossed like bandoleers. We put the two thickest bracelets, one chain
and one solid, on our left wrists and the other four on our right
wrists. Lisa picked out six or eight new pairs of earrings, and we
decided to combine all our earrings into one collection. My watch
looked totally out of place so I just put it in my pocket.

About Face was our next stop. The place was filled with cosmetics,
and, like Tress & Less, had a library of style books. At Pokey's
suggestion we asked for Cal Urskiem, the owner, but he was out. The
two counter clerks looked like space aliens. Lisa paged through the
books and discussed products and technique with the shorter clerk,
whose upper and lower lips were purple and pink, respectively. She
also had white eyelashes, black eye shadow with green metallic
highlights, and blue rouge running from her ears to her navel. Lisa
bought enough stuff to paint a jeep. As she paid, I noticed that the
other clerk's makeup was even more bizarre, especially since he was a
guy.

Fulton's Follicle didn't have much of a store front; just a counter, a
few chairs, and some fashion magazines. The walls were decorated with
photos of shapely smooth legs, close-ups of a woman's lips with and
without a mustache, and eyebrows before and after. A bell on the
counter was engraved "Ding Me," so I did. Moments later, a man
appeared from the back.

"Hi, I'm Zach Fulton. How can I help you folks?" he said.

"My name is Doug Trents. I'm in the marketing department of Quixotic
Designs, in Chicago. Something happened today that got me interested
in electrolysis. Can you explain the process to me?"

"It's quite simple. I slide a fine wire along a hair until it touches
the root, then apply a current. The current destroys the root, and
that particular hair never grows back," Fulton explained.

"There must be thousands of hairs in, say, the pubic area," I
observed.

"You got that right," said Fulton. "I can't tell you how many women
want their pubic hair permanently removed but chicken out because it
requires six months to a year of painful visits."

"Why so long?" asked Lisa.

"Not all the hairs are growing at once. Each hair follicle goes
through cycles of dormancy and growth. That's why hair seems to grow
back after I finish an area; it's a different set of hair follicles
that need to be eliminated. Would you like a demonstration?" Fulton
replied.

"I don't want to go bald or anything," I replied.

"No, no, I'll just do a few hairs on your arm. No one will ever
notice," he assured me.

I put my hand on the counter and Fulton reached for some equipment
under the counter. He used one hand to pull one of my hairs taut with
plastic tweezers, and the other to slide a very fine wire into my arm.
The wire was almost impossible to see; Fulton manipulated it by
holding a pencil-like handle. Suddenly, I felt an electrical shock
and Fulton held up the hair for my inspection.

"If the voltage isn't right, or if I don't get the wire seated
properly, then the hair grows back. That's why you should deal with a
reputable salon," Fulton explained.

"How much voltage is required?" I asked.

"It takes seventy-five to a hundred and fifty volts, depending on the
thickness and depth of the hair. Thick leg hairs are just tougher
than fine eyebrow strands. It only lasts a fraction of a second. A
complete pubic area job will cost between one and two thousand dollars
over six months to a year. You can go faster or slower, depending on
your budget and pain tolerance. If you quit, at least the hair will
be sparser than before. We're pretty busy today, but you could make
an appointment," Fulton urged.

I told Zach Fulton we'd think about it, but my mind was racing. I
dragged Lisa over to Piercing Scream and told Pokey I needed to talk
to Spike. Ten minutes later, Spike met me in the back room.

"Spike, I've been looking into electrolysis. The current process is
very slow because each hair has to be zapped individually. It seems
to me that all hairs in an area could be zapped all at once by static
electricity except for two problems. First, it would be painful.
Second, the electricity would travel across the skin instead of
penetrating to the hair root."

"So, it won't work," said Spike.

"Well, the pain could be reduced or eliminated with a local anesthetic
spray. I think the spread of electricity could be stopped by coating
the skin with an insulating gel. The anesthetic would go on first,
then I could use moderate static electricity to make the hairs stand
on end. I'd spray the insulation next, then apply a larger burst of
static electricity. The burst would get picked up by the standing
hairs and travel to the root. What do you think?"

"I think it sounds possible, but it's never been tried. I know of
several topical anesthetics that would do the job. As to the
electronics, you'd have to talk to Bonnie or Clipper. I'd keep Zach
Fulton involved, too."

My mind raced. Using Spike's phone, I called Bonnie and explained my
idea. He thought it was worth discussing, and suggested that Spike
and I stop off at his apartment on the way home that evening. Spike
said he could be available if Lisa would give Pokey a ride home. The
meeting was set for nine-thirty. Spike said he would try to get Zach
Fulton and Clipper to come also.

Back in front, Lisa and Pokey were chatting with a female customer.
Besides numerous earrings and four nose rings, she had two rings in
her lower lip and another in her belly button. The lip rings were
about three eighths of an inch in diameter and had thin chains
dangling to the chin. The navel ring was half an inch across; it
entered the skin just above the belly button and exited inside it.

"Hi, Doug, this is Theda Loupe. Pokey was just showing me her
jewelry. Do you like it?" Lisa asked.

Adorned as I was, I could hardly take a position against piercing.
"I've never seen anything like it," I replied.

"Theda has even more piercings, Doug. Would you like to see?" Lisa
asked.

Theda was wearing skin tight shorts and a top consisting of two black
triangles and spaghetti straps. She had a terrific figure, and I
figured any area not already displayed would be interesting. "Well,
if Theda doesn't mind," I said.

"No problem at all," said Theda, sticking out her tongue. Two small
gold rings were affixed an inch apart at the front of her tongue. She
closed her mouth and clicked the rings against her teeth.

For a moment, I was speechless. "Wasn't that extremely difficult to
get used to?" I asked Theda.

"Oh, yeah, I still can't chew bubble gum. It was painful for a couple
of weeks, but now I usually don't think about them. I wash my mouth
with antiseptic every night to avoid infections. You wouldn't believe
the freaky reactions I get from people. They're all nuts!" exclaimed
Theda.

Spike came out of the back room and spotted Theda. "I'm ready to put
in those cheek studs," he said.

"Oh, good, I have to get some rest and go to work early tomorrow.
Nice talking to you folks," she assured us.

My damn curiosity seized me again. "What do you do, Theda?" I asked.

"I'm a dental hygienist," she replied, walking toward the back room.

It was six thirty. Lisa and I had nothing to do until nine, when
Essence Alley closed, and decided to go somewhere for dinner. Pokey
recommended a western place called Champion Buck-It. The restaurant
had a cowboy theme, with wagon wheel tables, a chuck wagon salad bar,
and waiters dressed in boots, jeans, and plaid shirts. Friday and
Saturday nights they had Country Western entertainment and mechanical
bull contests, after which the place was named. The clientele was
mixed; there were men and women in conservative suits, others ready
for square dancing, and a few weirdoes.

I enjoyed a touch of normalcy. The waiter was actually a guy, and
Lisa managed to avoid embarrassing erections and potty incidents. I
had steak and cowboy beans, while Lisa had chicken and Cole slaw. I
cut my food into small pieces and remembered to order drinks that came
with a straw, so even my damn lip chain wasn't much of a problem. A
cup of coffee would have been great after dinner, but I settled for
iced tea.

The night air was chilly as we rushed back to Piercing Scream. At
nine o'clock Spike and Clipper rode with me to Bonnie's apartment.
Zach Fulton arrived a few minutes after us. We sat at Bonnie's dining
room table.

Spike began the conversation, "This afternoon, Doug came to me with an
idea for a new type of electrolysis. It sounds workable, but I'm not
an expert in all phases of the approach. If the process can be
developed, it would be a significant new business opportunity for us.
Doug, please describe your concept and then we'll discuss it."

I explained the three step process of topical anesthetic, insulating
cream, and then mass electrolysis over an area. Zach was the most
skeptical, but thought the idea would work if the proper voltage,
frequency, and duration could be determined. Bonnie and Clipper were
sure the electronics wouldn't be a problem. Spike thought it would be
expensive to have a doctor administer anesthetic, but that something
could be worked out involving a doctor's prescription and a nurse to
administer the spray.

Finally, discussion ended. Everyone believed the idea was worth
pursuing. Bonnie suggested that he and I meet with Eddy Gismeau, a
medical equipment consultant who owned a company called Physotics,
Incorporated.

It was after midnight when I arrived back at Spike and Clipper's guest
house. Lisa was asleep, so I threw my clothes in the hamper and
quietly used the bathroom. Sitting to piss had almost become a habit,
but the damn lip chain made brushing my teeth painful and awkward. I
removed my earrings from the welded hoops, swabbed all my piercings,
set the alarm, turned off the light, and got into bed. During the
previous two nights, Lisa and I found that covers irritated our
nipples and we needed to sleep on our backs without covers. I was
just drifting off when I felt Lisa's hand on her pussy.

"I thought you were asleep. Ptui," I whispered. The damn chain had
fallen inside my mouth.

"Perhaps you need something to help you relapse ... ptui ... relax,"
Lisa whispered back.

Her pussy definitely relaxed as Lisa slid her finger into it. I
reached between her legs and began fondling my balls. My cock
stiffened and I began running my hand up and down the bottom of my
shaft. Lisa sighed with pleasure and found her clitoris with her
thumb. She pressed her thumb and finger together, squeezing her
clitoris and G-spot at the same time. My cock felt extremely stiff
and warm to my hand. We continued this way for several minutes in the
dark. I touched a finger to Lisa's asshole, immediately causing my
cock to squirt cum. Lisa squeezed and massaged her pussy furiously
and soon I was cumming too. We relaxed a minute, then Lisa took the
corner of the top sheet and wiped her side of the bed.

"Damn, I hate wet sheep ... ptui ... sheets," she said, then we fell
asleep.

Chapter 31. Ink-A-Bink Monday, Week 3

The alarm sounded at six o'clock. I hadn't slept well because of
soreness from the piercings, but this only strengthened my resolve to
get Lisa to her tattoo appointment. I took a shower, swabbed
everything, and woke Lisa. It seemed cold outside, so I called the
kitchen to ask if breakfast could be sent over. Dee Tweedle was on
duty and promised to arrive within twenty minutes.

Lisa was just finishing her makeup when Dee arrived wearing a robe.
After pulling a delivery cart through the front door and into the
kitchen, Dee tossed the robe over a chair and began setting the
kitchen table. Her figure was trim and lithe, with a cute butt and
skinny arms and legs. She had tan lines around her breasts, fanny,
and pussy, although those areas weren't pale by any means.

Dee spread out a white linen table cloth, napkins, china settings, and
silverware. Next, she opened serving trays containing diced fruit,
scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage. She placed a pot of coffee and
two carafes of juice on the table, then volunteered to stand by as we
ate. I told her everything looked fine and we didn't need her, so Dee
grabbed her robe and scampered back to Pearson's kitchen.

"So, are you going to tell me about this tattoo?" queried Lisa, who
arrived just as Dee left.

"It's a surprise," I assured her.

"If I don't want it to show, are you sure I can easily conceal it?"
Lisa asked.

"Your normal clothing will cover it completely," I assured her.

Lisa took fruit and coffee, while I chose scrambled eggs, sausage, and
iced tea. Using one hand to pull the damn chain aside didn't bother
Lisa, but I preferred not to deal with it so directly. Finally, I
poured myself a cup of coffee and drank it using the straw from the
iced tea.

My nipples weren't very sore, so I wore a T-shirt under my vest.
Because it was chilly outside, we both wore blue jeans. Lisa put on
the long sweatshirt she bought on our first shopping expedition in
Santa Fe.

The Monday morning traffic into the city was heavy, but we started
early and didn't have much trouble parking. We arrived at Skin Deep
right on time and met Drew Picshire.

"Hi, Doug, this must be Lisa. I'm glad you could make it! Everything
is all set up in the back. Let's go!" Drew greeted us.

The back room had two stations that looked very much like barber
chairs. Lisa sat down in the first chair and asked if she needed to
remove any clothing.

"No, it's still chilly in here; you might as well be comfortable.
We'll pull your clothing away as necessary. Doug, would you like to
lay in the other chair?"

Having missed most of my sleep the night before, I was very tired and
gladly sat down to wait. Spike came into the room through the back
door and gave Lisa an injection; moments later, she was asleep. Three
tattoo artists came into the room and began planning their work. Drew
introduced them as Buzzy Scetts, Art Emadge, and Phoata Flasche. Zach
Fulton pulled down Lisa's jeans and began applying hot wax to my cock
and balls. I was half asleep already when I felt a pin prick on the
back of my neck. Everything blacked out.

"Doug, I can't believe you chose such a large design," Lisa told me
through a fog.

"Huh? Oh, Lisa, are you finished? What time is it?" I asked.

"It's almost eight o'clock in the evening, Doug. I can't believe you
set all this up without telling me! This tattoo is huge!" Lisa was
standing right next to me, nude. The dragon looked fabulous. Lisa
seemed like another person with it on, even more bold and assertive
than before. She was so agitated that I couldn't tell if she was
angry or excited.

"Well, you didn't discuss the body piercings with me in advance,
either. What do you think?" I asked.

"I never would have done this to myself, but now I love it. I already
told Drew we want our other sides done. I don't care what it costs.
We've got appointments Thursday," giggled Lisa.

"Our other sides? What kind of appointments?" I asked.

"Don't forget our pact, Doug. I reminded Spike of our agreement to
get all work done in duplicate, and he arranged for Drew to schedule
you today. Stand up and look at yourself!"

I swung my feet to the floor and examined myself. Like Lisa, I was
nude and had a dragon tattooed from my kneecap to my nipple! My
tattoo was on the left, Lisa's on her right. The temporary serpent on
my chest was gone. I rolled my head back and closed my eyes. This
wasn't in the plan!

Spike cruised into view. "You two are a real sight, Doug. I think
Pokey and I should get some matching work done. Terrific idea!"

I was glad I'd made provisions for Lisa's tattoo to be concealed by
normal clothing.

Drew gave us parting instructions as we dressed. "Your skin will be
tender for the next day or two. Keep clean, and you won't get any
infections. The figures are a little plain right now, because of time
limitations. I recommend getting more detail added in the future.
See you Thursday!"

My skin felt as if I'd been in the sun too long. Maybe it was my
brain, I thought. We had a light dinner at Chain Ring Bouquet then
headed back to the estate. I tried not to think about the tattoo
under my clothes, but my skin continued to sting. Back at the guest
house, I kept my clothes on and watched the news as Lisa got ready for
bed. Later, I undressed and pissed in the dark before joining her.

Chapter 32. Ranch Dressing Tuesday, Week 3

The phone rang at seven o'clock Tuesday morning. Lisa got up and
answered it with her back to me. I was watching her butt jiggle when
she suddenly turned around and said, "It's Bonnie, Doug. He says you
two have a meeting today."

Lisa looked unbelievably wild and exotic with the large dragon
extending across her body. The female dragon on Lisa's right side had
its fiery cunt pressed against my cock. One clawed foot stood on
Lisa's kneecap, while the other climbed upward with its claws sunk
into Lisa's thigh. The dragon's back arched toward her shoulder. Its
arms gripped her around the ribs, and its long snout seemed poised to
bite her nipple from top and bottom. Lisa's nipple ring also served
as the dragon's lip ring.

"Well, are you going to answer the phone or what?" Lisa prodded.
"Besides, I want a look at you."

I got up and took the phone. "Hi, Bonnie. What's up?" I asked. Lisa
stared intently at my dragon.

"Doug, I called Eddy Gismeau about your idea and he can meet us at ten
o'clock this morning. He'll be doing some research at the main
library downtown. Can you make it?"

Lisa's tattoo was fascinating. The arms around her ribs had claws
that seemed to be digging into her flesh. Blood was pictured oozing
from some of the claw incisions.

"Doug, can you make it at ten o'clock?" Bonnie asked.

"Oh, sure, Bonnie. Sorry I drifted off. Shall I meet you at the
library?"

"Parking is expensive and hard to find, Doug. Meet me in La Cloma and
we'll take High Road into town. We won't have a problem if we leave
by nine fifteen."

I told Bonnie I'd be at his apartment by nine o'clock, then hung up.
The eye on Lisa's dragon seemed to be staring back at me. The tail
extended around her hip and fanned out slightly to the edge of her
butt. Lisa was subjecting me to a similar inspection but I hardly
noticed.

"Doug, this work is incredible. Have you looked at yourself?" Lisa
asked.

"Uh, you see one, you've seen them all," I replied.

Lisa faced the dresser mirror and said, "No, there are differences.
Look at yourself, Doug."

My dragon was male and on the left. When Lisa and I embraced, so
would the dragons. The green skin on my dragon's belly heated to
yellow around its balls and to red at the tip of its large scaly cock.
Fiery cum spurted toward Lisa's pussy. It was obvious that when both
dragons were inked, the male's cum would enter the female's pussy.

"What are we going to do about breakfast?" I asked.

"The usual, of course. It looks warm enough to eat outside," replied
Lisa.

"Everyone will see us," I objected.

"Everyone saw us Saturday and Sunday. Everybody sees Pokey. Spike
saw us yesterday. This was your idea, Doug. It turned out great; now
take your credit!"

Looking out the front window, I saw Smooth and Clipper already seated.
Marble and Shag were at the serving table and Pokey was just leaving
her house. Finally, I decided there was no point in delay; I would
just do it. "Let's go!" I said, keeping an eye on Smooth.

Dan Tweedle was serving. He paused for the slightest second when he
spotted our tattoos, then quickly recovered and took our order. Pokey
was all eyes as we approached the main table.

"Doug, Lisa, those figures are incredible! I've never seen anything
so sexy! Can I touch them?" Pokey stood up and to my surprise began
stroking Lisa's breast and tummy. My cock started to rise and Lisa's
face turned pink. "Oh my, have I startled you?" Pokey asked Lisa.

"We'd like to sit down and have breakfast, Pokey," said Lisa, twisting
away. I was very self-conscious sitting at the table, knowing that my
dragon was visible from the waist up. Shag covered his face and
giggled but Smooth and Marble were fascinated. Dan brought our
breakfast.

"How's the invention coming, Doug?" asked Clipper.

"I'm meeting Bonnie and Eddy Gismeau this morning, Clipper.
Hopefully, we'll come up with a preliminary design and test plan."

"Lisa, that leaves you with nothing to do. Let's put on something
skimpy and freak out people at the mall," suggested Pokey.

"I don't think I'm ready for that," answered Lisa. "My skin is still
sore."

"Oh, well, I know several beaches we could visit. No scratchy
swimsuits required!"

"Maybe the mall isn't such a bad idea. With all this jewelry, the
punk haircut, and now a full body tattoo, there's no point trying to
be inconspicuous. What are you going to wear, Pokey?" Lisa asked.

"As you say, there's no point in dressing up. I'll probably wear an
old pair of cutoffs, a cotton bra top, and lots of metal. Are you
coming, Smooth?"

Smooth was sitting demurely with her legs crossed. "Oh, I have
appointments at the shop. You two have fun, though. Doug, come over
here and let me see your tattoo."

I walked over to Smooth's chair and stood directly above her. With
her legs crossed, her pussy remained completely out of sight. Smooth
traced her finger all the way from my knee to my shoulder, paying
particular attention to the dragon cock tattooed on my bald pubic
area. Lisa's pussy moistened considerably, which Smooth noticed and
ignored. I wished she would uncross her legs, but instead she put a
napkin on her lap and ate a piece of diced melon.

"Shouldn't you be dressing?" asked Lisa. I agreed it was getting late
and headed back to the guest house. I almost expected the tattoo to
come off or smear in the shower, but of course it didn't. I
considered skipping my earring pendants and just going with the welded
rings, but somehow that didn't look right with the nose rings and
chains. In the end, I took pendants randomly from my pile and Lisa's
until my ears were filled. I put on my sunglasses, the long shorts, a
muscle shirt, and my running shoes.

Lisa came out of the shower and reminded me my hands were naked. I
put on the five rings and six bracelets from Sunday, plus the three
new necklaces and the one from Santa Fe.

I wasn't surprised to see Lisa load herself up with an equal amount of
jewelry, and she looked great in the new shorts from Sunday. They
exposed the bottom two inches of her butt; this seemed to be the
desired effect. She did surprise me by putting on the black
transparent bra I bought for her dinner outfit the week before.

"I'm surprised you're wearing a top large enough to warrant a bra,
Lisa," I commented.

"I'm not; this is it," she replied.

"Your nipples and rings show right through, you know."

"Doug, when I go out to shock and tease, I really shock and tease.
Perhaps I'll borrow a vest or bolero jacket before we leave. If I
can't find one, that'll be the first thing I buy. Do I look decent?"

"Not at all," I replied.

"Good, it's working. Now, you have an exciting time at the library,
Doug, while Pokey and I spend a boring day at the mall." With the
large tattoo running continuously from her shoulder to her knee, the
shorts and bra actually seemed superfluous and out of place. Somehow,
I sensed trouble brewing.

"Well, I need to get going. Don't do anything rash," I warned Lisa.

"Doug, trust me," she replied, starting to apply heavy makeup.

Chapter 33. Research

Bonnie was waiting for me in front of his apartment. He wore a simple
polyester dress with white sandals, one earring per ear, light eye
makeup, and conservative lipstick. His bra and slip didn't show at
all.

"Doug, is that you? I thought I recognized the nose ring but those
sunglasses hide your face. Let's go!" Bonnie let me open the car
door for him and we headed downtown. We circled twenty minutes for
parking but finally found a spot a block from the library.

"We're supposed to meet Eddy upstairs," Bonnie said. We took the
elevator to the floor containing the medical section and wandered
around until Bonnie spotted Eddy. As we walked, my jewelry clinked
and people looked up with curiosity. Mostly, they reacted as if
they'd seen a man from Mars.

Eddy Gismeau proved to be a small round balding fellow with thick
glasses and a rumpled tan suit. Bonnie introduced me and I explained
my concept. I had the feeling that Eddy was staring at me more than
listening, but when I finished he asked several insightful questions.

"Doug, the first question you're asking me is what kind of electricity
will electrocute all the hairs in a given area. Once you get the
answer, you're hoping that anesthetic and insulating cream will make
it possible to treat patients. Is that right? Yes? The second
question is what kind of insulating creme to spray. I'm guessing
silicone, but polymer is a second possibility. Is that right? OK.
Let's find Priscilla."

"Do you mean Priscilla Strate?" I asked.

"Yes, do you know her? I guess you would; the two of you seem to have
the same barber. She's an expert researcher; I'd be lost without her.
I hear she nearly got fired yesterday, but now she has the guy eating
out of her hand. Ah, there she is!"

Priscilla was wearing white stockings, lycra shorts, a waist-length
halter, and assorted jewelry including her two cheek studs and both
nose rings. Her lipstick and eye color were dark blue. She recognized
me.

"Hi, Doug, what brings you here?" she asked.

"We're doing research for a new hair removal process. Eddy says you
could be a big help. I take it your boss approves of your new look."

"Oh, yeah, he started to get on my case yesterday, but I made him hide
under my desk for the rest of the day. This morning I gave him a
spanking for not wearing women's panties to work. I should have tried
this long ago. Now, how can I help you?"

Eddy and Priscilla spent the next two hours accessing computer
indexes, magazine listings, microfilm, printed journals, and on-line
fax. Next, Eddy took out a long distance credit card and spent an
hour making calls from a pay phone. He and Priscilla continued
tracking down leads as the return calls arrived on Priscilla's
extension. Bonnie and I helped when we could, but we couldn't
possibly keep up with everything that was going on. At four o'clock,
Eddy arranged all his notes, photocopies, and faxes into piles, then
began sifting.

"Doug, we've found four research papers that involve electrical
destruction of hair follicles and three possible insulating agents.
All three insulators are very similar to approved cosmetics, and
should be available locally. One is used by the electric company to
repair faulty wiring, and the other two are used instead of rubber
gloves by people who handle sensitive electronic components.

"None of the four research papers were dedicated to hair removal. In
one, the researchers were looking for a way to remove tattoos, but
failed. Some of the subjects did report permanent hair loss, though.
Two of the studies involved quack cures for acne; again, the acne
didn't go away but the hair did. In the fourth study, workers in an
electrical plant reported hair loss. The cause was traced to static
electricity. Do you want to proceed?"

It seemed certain that Eddy and Priscilla were on the right trail.
"What do you propose?" I asked.

"For your information, my fees and expenses so far are about fifteen
hundred dollars. For tomorrow, I propose that we conduct tests using
the three insulating agents, some rented electrical equipment, and
mice. If the process works and the mice survive, we can look for a
human volunteer. All that will run another twenty-five hundred or
so."

"Let's do it," said Bonnie, noticing my panicky expression. "Doug, if
this works, we'll start a new company and I'll make another fortune.
If we don't go ahead, Eddy will sell the idea to someone else.
Essence Alley is a gold mine; I can afford it."

Of course, it made sense. Clipper had built his luxury estate with
Spike, while Bonnie had bought and developed Essence Alley.

"I'll be the human guinea pig," volunteered Priscilla. I knew exactly
what she had in mind. Eddy said he could pick up the necessary
lotions, equipment, and lab animals by ten o'clock. Bonnie had an
empty store we could use for the experiments. I called Spike, and he
promised to bring the anesthetics.

Chapter 34. Intense Deliberation

Driving back to the estate, I felt great. The project to develop my
invention was progressing well; I might even get a second income out
of it. As I crossed the San Mateo bridge, however, I began to have
doubts. Why were all these people going out of their way for me?

Priscilla was doing her job and Eddy was working for a fee; they were
easy to understand. Was Bonnie part of the idle rich? Was following
my life really the most interesting thing he had to do? I sure didn't
think anyone would get rich from a hair removal system.

What about Spike? I still didn't understand why he and Clipper wanted
us to stay in their guest house at their expense, taking up the time
of their household staff. So far, they hadn't asked us for a thing.
Eventually, I was convinced, they would.

After I parked at the guest house, Hank stopped by to let me know Lisa
and Pokey were still out. He also gave me a note from Lisa suggesting
I listen to the first message on the answering machine. I tossed my
clothes in the hamper and sat down in the living room to listen.

"Hello, Doug and Lisa. This is Allen Damihnd. I've been trying to
reach you personally, but I guess I'll just have to leave a message.
Ada Kamp's photographs of the Indian cavern have been very useful.
Several experts looked at them and proposed theories until Dr. Surtz
identified the true pattern. There are thirteen pictograph narratives
on the cavern walls. The first narrative requires reading every
thirteenth image, starting from the bottom right northeast corner.
The second narrative begins with the first image to the right, and
continues on every eleventh tile. The rest of the narratives follow a
similar pattern. Of course, some of the pictographs appear in more
than one narrative.

"The narrative you seem to be following ends with reunion of the
original bodies. This is quite fortunate, as all the other narratives
end in further disfigurement or death. Reuniting your bodies will
require an additional experience in the cavern.

"The cavern is driven by light, focused by crystals that line the
chimney walls. The focused beam strikes a master crystal inside the
cavern, which then illuminates all the pictographs in a particular
narrative. On the evening you were first affected, moonlight
activated the cavern and the changes were relatively limited. To
effect a complete change, restoring your original bodies, sunlight is
required. Obviously, the sun must be positioned perfectly. This will
occur at two thirty-seven next Sunday afternoon, then not again for
twelve years.

"I have two recommendations. The first is to return to Santa Fe and
repeat your prior activities in the cavern at two thirty-seven next
Sunday. The second is to ornament your bodies in conformance with the
pictographs. Each frame in your narrative shows increasing body
decoration in the form of artwork and metal jewelry. I can't tell if
the artwork is paint or tattoos, but much of the jewelry is shown
pierced into the body. It seems risky to continue the process without
following all the prescribed customs.

"If you return to Santa Fe, Ada Kamp and I will be pleased to offer
every assistance. I find this to be a fascinating case, and, I
believe, so will you. According to the narrative, you will have an
out-of-body experience during the reunion process. You have my
number. Good day!"

The message was recorded at eight forty-two that morning. Suddenly I
wondered what Lisa and Pokey had been up to all day. Allen Damihnd
hadn't specified any limit on the amount of pierced jewelry or
tattoos.

There were two express mail packages on the kitchen table, one from my
secretary, Phylen Tipe, and one from Mera Thonn. I opened them both
and dumped my jewelry and Lisa's into our newly combined collection.
Compared to our new stuff, it was quite plain. There wasn't much of
it, either, but I found three new rings to wear and a few chains I
used as earring pendants.

I had dinner on the pool deck with Shag and Marble. Hank, Cynthia,
Dan, and Dee ate later. I chatted with Cynthia for a while after she
finished her dinner; Bonnie had alerted her that we might be starting
a new company. Cynthia thought the concept would catch on and be
patentable.

Pokey and Lisa arrived a little after eight o'clock. Pokey drove on
to her garage without stopping in, and Lisa rushed to the bedroom
before I got much of a look at her. I walked to the bedroom only to
find that Lisa had locked herself in the bath.

"Lisa, are you OK?" I asked through the closed door.

"Uh, Doub, I tink I mide half oferdone id," Lisa answered.

I could easily believe Lisa had taken Dr. Damihnd's instructions to an
extreme, and shuddered to think what that might be.

"Lisa, you can't spend the rest of your life in the bathroom. I might
be shocked when you come out, but I'll still love you. I'm sure
whatever you did was intended to get us back to normal. I love you
for that. If you're in pain, I want to comfort you. Please come
out," I pleaded.

"Jusd a minnid," Lisa replied.

The door finally opened, but the bathroom light was off. Lisa was
wearing a towel, and I gasped when I saw her face. She'd added three
nose rings, bringing the total to two on each side and one in the
middle. Three pierced studs occupied each cheek. Her earrings
totaled fifteen on each side. She had four lip rings, two on her
upper lip and two closer together on her lower lip. Lisa opened her
mouth and displayed three rings pierced into her tongue, left, right,
and center.

When she lowered her towel, I noticed the figures from Claude Storm's
jewelry tattooed on the backs of her hands; the male figure was on the
left and the female on the right. As the towel dropped, I could see
Lisa had acquired a second pair of nipple rings and four rings
embedded at right angles in her navel.

With the towel at her waist, she turned around and displayed her back.
Across her shoulders was the image of a fabulous colored bird in
flight. The head was tattooed on her neck, and the tail reached the
small of her back. The long wings, designed for soaring, extended
across her shoulders and down the backs of her arms.

The final surprise was no surprise at all. Lisa dropped the towel and
turned around to display two D-rings imbedded in my cock.

I tried to hold Lisa and comfort her, but she hurt all over. She was
able to sit on the bed, and I held her hands gently. Tears formed
around her eyes; whether due to pain, shame, or revulsion, I couldn't
tell.

"Did this take all day?" I asked.

Lisa chose her words carefully. "Most of id. I talked wid Dr.
Damihnd. He faxed me dis."

Lisa removed a fax sheet from her purse. It was a pictograph from the
pyramid cavern, showing a male and female heavily ornamented with
artwork and pierced jewelry. Like Lisa, the male and female had five
nose rings, three cheek studs on each side, seven lip and tongue
rings, two pairs of nipple rings, four navel rings, and two genital
rings. Their bodies were hairless, including their heads.

The fabulous bird on Lisa's back was copied directly from the
pictograph. Amazingly, the ancient icon also showed our dragon
tattoos clearly. I began to think our compulsion for haircuts,
piercings, and tattoos came from that cavern.

"Lisa, I'll try to avoid having you talk much. Did Dr. Damihnd
believe it's necessary for us to duplicate this pictograph? Yes? If
we don't get the piercings and tattoos, would the reunion process
work? No? Would it be dangerous to try? Yes."

How much did I believe in Allen Damihnd's ability to decode ancient
spells? How much pain could I put myself through? What choice did I
have? Was I better off as I was, or massively pierced and tattooed
with my own cock back? What if I refused to match Lisa's piercings
and she left me? I wasn't exactly ready to re-enter the dating scene.

"Lisa, does Spike have a set of jewelry ready for me? Yes, I thought
so. How long did the tattoos take?" Lisa held up six fingers. "Six
hours. Did you make an appointment for me at Skin Deep? Tomorrow?
At what time?" Lisa held up three fingers.

"OK, Lisa, I'll call a travel agent in the morning and change our
tickets to go to Albuquerque Saturday morning. We'll rent a car from
there. I'm supposed to meet with Bonnie, Eddy, and Spike tomorrow
morning at ten o'clock. I'll go from there to Piercing Scream, then
to Skin Deep. Thursday, we'll get our other dragons. Friday, we can
rest. Is that OK?"

Lisa shook her head and spoke. "Bonnie and Wobin need to bisit da
cabern Fwiday night."

Despite taking pain killer, Lisa couldn't sleep on her back, front, or
side. I swabbed antiseptic wherever I could, and she finally got to
sleep in a living room chair. My own sleep was broken up by fits of
apprehension over what would happen during the next few days.

Chapter 35. Smooth Progress Wednesday, Week 3

Dan Tweedle delivered breakfast in the morning, though Lisa confined
herself to juice and oatmeal. Cynthia recommended a travel agent, and
I changed our tickets. I told the agent we had pierced jewelry as a
hobby, and that unremovable items would set off the metal detectors.
She said we could pass security with a hand search if we made prior
arrangements and paid a small fee.

I shaved, showered, swabbed, and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Lisa
was reading a book in the living room, and I kissed her forehead as I
left. Somehow I got a good parking space and reached Essence Alley at
quarter to ten. Bonnie arrived several minutes later wearing a
sweater and short denim skirt. Spike was right on time, wearing
cotton pants and carrying his medical bag. At five after ten, Eddy
beeped his horn outside the delivery door and we unloaded the
electrical equipment, chemicals, and cages of mice. Eddy was still
rumpled; what can I say?

Eddy organized his notebooks while Bonnie and I set up the electrical
gear. Spike moved a long table under one of the ceiling lights,
covered it, and organized the cages. Eddy proposed we start the
experiment with nine tests involving different combinations of
anesthetic, insulation, and electric charge. This took until eleven
o'clock but eliminated one insulator and one anesthetic. The range of
electrical settings was narrowed as well. Each test attempted to
remove the hair from one side of the mouse's body; encouragingly,
none of the mice were harmed and two were bald on one side.

We ran another series of six tests, then a series of four. We were
turning hairy mice into bald ones at a rapid pace, and the mice didn't
seem to notice a thing while it happened. Eddy and Spike agreed we
had calibrated the equipment as well as possible for mice. The four
of us looked at each other expectantly.

"Pokey likes guys with smooth chests," said Spike, laying on the
table. "Smear me up."

Eddy did some calculations to account for Spike's body mass, then
Bonnie sprayed anesthetic and I applied insulation. Spike's chest
hairs stood straight up when Eddy placed the discharge plate over
them. After making one more adjustment, Eddy hit the switch.
Hundreds of tiny sparks flew, then Spike's hairs jumped out of his
body and clung to the plate.

"Well, do it!" said Spike.

"We did. You have a smooth spot right over your left nipple, Spike,"
said Eddy.

Spike sat up and looked at himself. "Damn, I didn't feel a thing.
This one patch looks weird. Do the rest!"

We sprayed Spike with anesthetic and insulation from his neck to his
belly button, then energized the electrode plate in a pattern from top
to bottom. We had to wipe the hair off the plate each time, but the
whole process was complete within twenty minutes. Spike washed
himself in the bathroom and emerged with a perfectly hairless chest.

"Guys, this is terrific. It'll never grow back, right?" said Spike.

"The hairs we removed today will never grow back," said Eddy. "You
have dormant hairs that will start growing again some time. It'll
take two or three treatments to get them all."

"No problem. Bonnie, how much did it cost to have your beard
removed?" Spike asked.

"Three thousand dollars," he replied.

"Well, I bet we could charge a thousand and make a fortune on the
added customers. We'd generate lots of new demand too, from all kinds
of people. What do you think, Doug?" said Spike.

"I think you're right, Spike. Eddy, what's the shortest hair this
equipment could remove?"

"Oh, anything longer than stubble. A month's growth should be no
problem. Why?"

"Well, most of my body got shaved Monday for a tattoo. I guess I
wouldn't be a good volunteer."

"Priscilla Strate volunteered yesterday. I'll call her," suggested
Eddy. Spike told him to call from Piercing Scream, and forty-five
minutes later Priscilla arrived.

"Hi, guys, glad you called. How much hair can you remove?" Priscilla
asked upon arriving.

"You sure got off work fast, Priscilla. We can zap as much hair as
you want," said Eddy.

"Oh, yea, my boss is tied up. I made him bring his own rope this
morning and checked the knots before I left. Just fry everything from
the neck down," Priscilla replied, tossing her few clothes on the back
of a chair. The tattooed guy crawling up her leg looked weird without
a head.

"What about your boss's secretary? Won't she find out?" I asked.

"Oh, his secretary already knows. Believe me, it's not a problem,"
Priscilla explained.

"Anything you've shaved will be a problem, Priscilla. That includes
your legs, armpits, and around the centaur on your shoulder. I'll
have to avoid your breasts too, because of the nipple rings," said
Eddy.

"That'll be fine. I'll let my legs get nice and shaggy for a while,
then come back for a second helping."

Priscilla slid onto the table and spread her legs unabashedly. Spike
got a pair of scissors and trimmed her bush to half an inch. I
sprayed her pussy, belly, and arms with anesthetic, then Bonnie
applied the insulating spray. Ten minutes later, Eddy had zapped away
all the hair in those areas. Priscilla turned over and we removed the
hair from the backs of her arms and around her butt. Finally, she
stood up looked herself over.

"I need a shower to get this gunk off. Where can I go?" she asked.

"There's a shower in Fulton's Follicle," Bonnie said. "Zach and Spike
asked me to put it in because of their frequent contact with sweaty
customers"

Priscilla was wiping herself with paper towels. "I don't want to mess
up my street clothes. Do you have something I could wear?" she asked.

Spike offered to look around his shop and I offered my T-shirt.
Priscilla took the T-shirt and asked Spike to carry her clothes. Eddy
and Bonnie began packing up the equipment. They agreed we had a
winning invention and Bonnie said he would ask Robin to start a patent
application and incorporation papers.

Chapter 36. No Pain No Gain

It was two o'clock, so I walked over to Piercing Scream. Spike walked
in a few minutes later and ushered me toward the back without
speaking. Lisa had apparently given him a copy of Dr. Damihnd's fax.
He added eight earrings on each side, three nose rings, three cheek
studs on each side, four lip rings, three tongue rings, two nipple
rings, four navel rings, and two pussy rings. He used Novocain on
some areas, but it still hurt like hell. Everything but the pussy
rings was spot-welded.

At the end, he said, "Doug, I can't imagine what's driving you and
Lisa to do this. I've never done this much work on anyone, and
certainly not in one day. No, don't try to talk. Want some water? I
wouldn't recommend anything else today. Keep swabbing antiseptic
around all those punctures and sterilize your mouth several times a
day. I can't give you heavy anesthesia two days in a row, but here's
a mild pain killer for today's tattoo work.

"You'll notice that the pussy rings aren't complete circles, they have
screw-on caps. In a month or two, you'll need to loosen those and
remove the rings for shaving or your new hair removal process. Don't
remove them sooner; come to me for that if necessary. I insisted on
the same for the cock rings on Lisa. Be very careful when urinating,
or you'll get massive infection. Do you understand what I've said?"

I nodded, and Spike helped me up. Avoiding the mirror, I walked
gingerly over to Skin Deep. Drew Picshire was waiting for me with
another copy of Dr. Damihnd's fax. He motioned me toward a stool and
had me sit facing a table. Art Emadge and Phoata Flasche started
tracing the bird design on my back, while Buzzy Scetts began work on
the back of my left hand. The pain was sharp and unrelenting. Once
an hour or so, Drew gave me a shot of whiskey that I drank through a
small straw. The pain went on and on, and I finally lost all track of
what was happening. The buzzing of the tattoo needle droned on until
ten o'clock. I was in no shape to drive home, so Drew put a towel on
one of his tattoo chairs and put me to bed. I think Pokey slept in
the other one, but I don't remember much.

Chapter 37. Dragon Along Thursday, Week 3

Thursday morning, Spike arrived with Lisa and knocked us both out. It
was about eight o'clock again when I regained consciousness. My
stomach was growling because I hadn't eaten for a day, but my mouth
was stiff with pain. Pokey brought in some pasta salad, which both
Lisa and I were able to eat. Pokey swabbed us both with antiseptic
and then Spike used my car to drive us back to the estate. I split
the night sitting, sometimes on the couch and sometimes on a kitchen
chair with my forehead on the table.

Chapter 38. Calm Before Friday, Week 3

Hank found Lisa and me still sleeping at nine o'clock the next
morning. Dee and Dan had set out a breakfast of soft foods and
thoughtfully provided plenty of straws and tiny silverware. Hank and
Spike helped me get cleaned up, swabbed down, and dressed. Cynthia
and Pokey did the same for Lisa. We didn't care about style at all,
but just took whatever didn't irritate the piercings in our navels and
crotches. This turned out to be baggy shorts worn down on the hip for
both of us. We had to wear Band-Aids on our nipples to keep our T-
shirts from rubbing.

There were too many clothes for our suitcases, so Spike suggested we
just take the items that fit our new look and let Hank and Cynthia
ship the rest to Chicago. Lisa told Hank to ship the boxes to Mera
Thonn at Fit & Trim Salon. She also wrote Mera a brief letter
explaining the packages and threw in a pair of earrings as a gift for
her trouble. I had my golf clubs shipped, too.

Spike gave us a few more hygiene instructions, then Hank got dressed
and used my car to drive us to the airport. People stated at us
constantly, but Hank got our bags checked and helped us go through
security. There wasn't much to search, as neither of us wore much
clothing. We didn't seem to shock the security people as much as we
did the crowd outside; it was small consolation but I took it.

Bonnie and Robin were waiting at the departure gate. Bonnie was
dressed in a blue A-line and white cotton stirrup tights, and Robin
wore a yellow sport shirt, brown sweater, and tan slacks. They were
both amazed by our appearance. On the plane, Lisa and I had adjoining
aisle seats and the passengers around us stared and whispered
constantly. Even Lisa and I stared at each other. The cabin
attendants tried to act normally but weren't very successful. We
skipped eating, but I drank two straight Scotches and Lisa had two
daiquiris. Lisa managed to behave herself, except for winking at me
incessantly.

It's amazing how long a person can go without speaking. As we got off
the plane in Albuquerque, I counted almost twenty-four hours since I'd
spoken. Lisa had been quiet, too. I gave it a try.

"Houth id goink?" I asked. It hurt.

"Bedda dan yesdaday," Lisa replied.

"Whad hurds da mosd?" I asked, and Lisa pointed to her mouth, nipples,
navel, and then to my cock. Things weren't going to get much better
any time soon.

Robin rented a large BMW sedan and drove us all to Santa Fe. Bonnie
waved at some truck drivers, but I wasn't in the mood to make a
spectacle of myself. Bonnie had booked rooms at the Encanto Retreat,
the most expensive resort in town; it was small but very private,
elegantly decorated in strong southwestern styles. The four of us
checked into two adjoining rooms and Bonnie called Dr. Damihnd. In
less than an hour, he and Ada Kamp knocked on the Banks' door.

Robin introduced herself and Bonnie. Damihnd either recognized Lisa
and me or deduced our identities from our decorations; I never found
out which. Ada Kamp was fascinated by us; there was no shock or
revulsion at all. I wondered if she'd studied piercing customs in
remote areas of Africa or Brazil.

Allen Damihnd began speaking in his pompous, long-winded way. "Robin
and Bonnie, I must warn you that our interpretation of the cavern
narratives is only a theory. What you propose to do is fraught with
risk. You may get the changes you want, something else, or nothing.
Are you certain you wish to go on?"

"Yes," said Bonnie and Robin together.

"Very well. The moon will reach the correct position at eight
thirteen this evening. I suggest we reach the cavern entrance at
seven thirty. You must disrobe and have sex on the ceremonial table,
climaxing at eight thirteen. I will signal you with a radio device at
eight, eight oh five, eight ten, and eight thirteen. Is that a
problem?"

"I went off my hormones after we spoke Wednesday, but my erections are
still pretty soft," said Bonnie.

"Well, all we can do is try. I've been speaking with various couples
who were affected, and they all found the situation highly erotic.
Perhaps the cavern itself induces orgasm," Damihnd theorized.

"What about the authorities?" Robin wanted to know.

"As it happens, Lester and Gretta Huandor, the park superintendent and
his wife, are among the affected couples. They're interested in
getting as much information as possible. We have a complete go-ahead.
That's true for Sunday as well, Doug and Lisa."

"Tanks," I replied.

"I must say, the two of you resemble the narrative figures quite
remarkably. Who did the painting?" Damihnd asked.

"Id's daddoos," said Lisa.

Ada Kamp's interest in us grew. "What about the jewelry?" she asked.

"Beersed and wewded thut," I replied.

Ada walked over and inspected my face with fascination from six inches
away. She wasn't startled at all when I stuck out my tongue, so I
carefully removed my shirt. Her eyes really bulged when she saw the
large dragon tattoos on my chest and the rings imbedded in my nipples
and navel. She glanced repeatedly between my thigh and stomach, so I
kicked off my shorts and displayed the entire tattoo. Of course, the
rings on Lisa's pussy were visible too.

"You are the most exotic person I've ever seen," said Ada.

Lisa removed her clothes and stood next to me, but Dr. Damihnd
remained a detached observer. "You will have to remove the rest of
your hair by Sunday afternoon, Doug and Lisa, but of course, you knew
that. Bonnie and Robin, I suggest we leave at six forty-five. It's
important to take before and after photographs; I'd like Ada to do
that now. Please undress."

Bonnie and Robin glanced at each other, then at us. "We'll leave the
room, if you like," Lisa volunteered.

"No, that's OK. We don't like ourselves naked; it shatters the
illusion. Of course, we wouldn't have this opportunity except for
you, doctor, and we should do as you ask." Robin began undressing,
followed by Bonnie. Ada unpacked her camera and flash, then asked the
Banks to stand by a blank wall. Ada was completely thorough, taking
thirty-six pictures from various angles and elevations. Several shots
were extreme close-ups of Bonnie's cock and Robin's pussy.

"Thank you for cooperating," said Dr. Damihnd. "That leaves time for
dinner. Will you all join us?"

"Dad's a pwobwem," Lisa said.

"Oh, we could get room service if you've nothing to wear. No, wait,
your mouths are sore; that's it, isn't it? Yes, I see, of course,"
Damihnd babbled.

"Dr. Damihnd, why don't you and Ada come back at six forty-five?"
requested Bonnie.

"OK, if that suits your needs, that's fine. See you then," said
Damihnd as he departed with Ada.

The room had a dining table and four chairs, so we had dinner
delivered. Bonnie said we didn't have to dress, because our clothes
would only irritate the piercings. I managed to eat Cole slaw, baked
trout, and mashed potatoes by using a relish fork. Lisa had yogurt,
red snapper, and wild rice. It was embarrassing to pick apart our
food and swallow it without chewing, but anything else was too
painful. Robin had a steak and Bonnie took stuffed chicken breast.
It looked delicious.

Dr. Damihnd returned at exactly quarter to seven. Everyone asked us
to come along to the cavern, but Lisa and I were too sore and too
tired. We wished Bonnie and Robin the best of luck as they left.

"How do you feel?" asked Lisa.

"Sore. Nod myself," I answered, looking her straight in the eye. "Is
id exotic or ugly?" I wondered.

"Exotic. Stwange. Unique. Udder people look so plain."

I looked at Lisa closely, and realized what she said was true.
Although I remembered her plain face, her decorated features seemed
part of her identity now. The various rings and chains were almost a
part of her body, and taking them off would be like losing a finger or
an ear.

Lisa and I stared at each other a while, then I turned and faced the
mirror. I hadn't looked at myself since Wednesday afternoon,
remembering the shock when I first saw myself with earrings and then
with more earrings and nose rings. Now, I calmly saw my body adorned
with erotic jewelry and artwork where before there had been nothing.
I began to wonder about having tattooed reptiles in place of eyebrows,
or a ring of vines tattooed around my wrists or calves. There wasn't
much left to pierce, but I was sure some idea would come along.

"Whad are you dinking?" I asked Lisa, who was staring at herself also.

"I'm nod sure I'd go back," she said. "Id's weird, bud id's me now."

"Whad aboud udder people? Dey stare," I pointed out.

"Led'em. You stare back," Lisa suggested, opening the hotel services
directory. There were two bars, one formal and one casual. Lisa
tapped her fingernail on the casual one, then started putting on
makeup. Working around her lip rings, she used a brush to apply dark
purple lipstick, then used a matching shade and contrasting silver on
her eyelids. A diagonal stripe of pink cheek blush and purple nail
polish completed the job.

"Did you ever dink aboud weawing makeub?" Lisa asked.

This was about the only strange thing I hadn't done in the past week.
"Like whad?" I asked. Lisa looked through her makeup bag and produced
a shade of dark brown lipstick, umber eye shadow, and black nail
polish. I'd been made up for some publicity photos once, but this was
another matter. What would the stranger in the mirror do, I wondered.
I shrugged, and Lisa began applying the lipstick. She ended up
darkening my eyebrows as well.

Lisa put on a thin cotton bra top that covered the front but not the
side of her breasts, her fringed suede vest, and her short denim
skirt. I wore my hiking shorts and a tank top that barely covered my
nipples in front and didn't have much of a back. We put on all the
matching jewelry we could, and supplemented that with any extra pieces
we could fit. The metal sunglasses and black high-top shoes completed
our outfits.

We passed three couples on our way to the bar. The first was a
retired couple who stared and rolled their eyes. Next were a man and
woman in tennis clothes, sweated up from playing a few sets. They
simply glanced and then ignored us. Last, we saw two photographers
just checking into their room; their profession was obvious from the
equipment they carried with their luggage. They eyed us with an
interested, analytical expression.

The bar had the shape of an "L", with booths along the outside walls
and the bar itself along the inside. Lisa took a barstool right on
the corner and motioned for me to take the seat at right angles to
her. We had the most visible seats in the whole place, and
immediately attracted attention. There were mirrors behind the bar
that let us see nearly everyone present. The barmaid approached us
cautiously and I ordered straight Scotch. As usual, Lisa had a
daiquiri. At first I felt like crawling under the bar and hiding, but
Lisa sat proudly with her back straight and so did I.

"How long do you wand do sday?" I whispered to Lisa.

"Led's give id an hour and see whad happens," she replied.

I'd forgotten about the dam lip chain again, and had to ask the
barmaid for a straw. She smiled in amusement as she put one in my
glass and then asked if I'd like some tortilla chips and salsa. I
think she was just teasing, but I just shook my head "no." Maybe it
was the Scotch, or maybe it was because we were speaking softly, but
it became less painful to talk. Lisa and I chatted for some time
about the other people in the bar and their reactions to us. Most
people stopped staring at us after a few minutes, and simply glanced
back every so often. One woman in a sequined minidress stared almost
constantly; I supposed she expected to gather all the attention that
night and felt upstaged. There was a clean-shaven guy with a perfect
business haircut wearing a blousey shirt and leather pants; I think he
felt foolish and out of place.

After about forty-five minutes, another unusual couple came in. The
guy wore gray flight pants and a tank top deeply cut around the
shoulders. He had tattoos on both arms; a wizard on the right and a
sorceress looking into a mirror on his left. In his left ear were two
earrings, and his nose had a ring on the right side.

The woman wore a leather miniskirt and a halter top that tied once
behind her neck and again around her waist, leaving her entire back
naked. Her back was tattooed with an underwater tropical reef scene,
complete with delicate corals and exotic fish. A mermaid's head
protruded just above her waist, with the tail extending down the back
of one thigh. She had seaweed wreaths tattooed around her upper arms,
and two eels swimming up the front of each thigh. There were six
earrings on each ear; one on each side was connected with gold chain
to a nose ring, giving the impression of gills. Her makeup was done
entirely in shades of green.

The two of them sat at the bar next to Lisa. This was easy, as no one
else wanted to sit within five seats of us. The barmaid glanced from
them to us and back again, obviously wondering what the world had come
to. The guy ordered Dos Equis and the woman had gin and tonic. I
motioned another round for us, too.

The woman with the ocean fetish turned to Lisa. "Are you folks
enjoying yourselves?" she asked.

"Oh, sure. What's the point of decorating yourself and then hiding?"
Lisa responded. Her mouth didn't seem to be bothering her at all now.

"I know what you mean, but our kind of fashion isn't appreciated
everywhere. Let's introduce ourselves. My name is Carla Slied and
this is Hal O'Graff. We're nature photographers."

"I'm Lisa Kahr; I own half interest in a fitness salon. This is my
fiancee, Doug Trents, a marketing representative for Quixotic Designs.
Are you the couple we passed in the hall earlier?"

"Yes, we noticed you in the hall. Normally, we keep covered up in
fancy hotels, but after seeing you two we figured we'd blend into the
woodwork. It must have taken years to get all your work done," Hal
responded.

"Actually, we just started last week. I suppose we set a record or
something," said Lisa.

"How did you stand the pain? Why did you do it?" Carla wondered.

Lisa replied, "We had the help of a doctor. He put us under
anesthesia for most of the tattoo work, and used Novocain for the more
painful piercing. As to why, we got caught up in some forgotten
Indian lore and haven't been ourselves. What brings you to Santa Fe?"

"We've been hired to take wildlife pictures in a wilderness area west
of town. There are reports of strange mutations out there. What
about you two?" asked Hal.

I decided I didn't want these two poking into our affairs. "We're
from the Chicago area, just looking around. How did you get started
with tattoos?" I replied. The Scotch was doing wonders for my sore
lips and tongue.

"Carla got started with a second-rate skull on her arm. That was
during high school. Later, she regretted the poor quality and had it
reworked into an arm band. She had both arm bands when I first met
her. I was curious how it was done, and she got a tropical fish put
on her shoulder just so I could watch. Shortly after, I started the
wizard and Carla planned out the scene on her back. One thing led to
another. What about you folks?"

Lisa replied, "We met a woman in San Francisco who was heavily
tattooed and pierced, all very nice work. Doug responded to her, and
I responded to that. The next day, I decided to get myself pierced
but I wanted Doug to join me. He held back at first, then promised to
match me piece for piece. I overdid it, but he had to match me. Doug
arranged for me to get one of these dragon tattoos, and I made sure he
got one too. As you said, one thing led to another."

Carla spoke up. "We were thinking of bar-hopping in these get-ups,
just to see what might happen. Sometimes, the craziest things do.
Will you join us?"

It was nine o'clock, and I expected Bonnie and Robin to be returning
soon. We said good evening to Carla and Hal and strolled back toward
the room, shocking a few more couples as we passed. I kept telling
myself we were unique individuals and not sideshow freaks. Back at
the room, we tossed our clothes on the bed and used the bathroom. I
was going to remove my makeup but Lisa insisted on touching it up
instead. We kissed and Lisa reached for her pussy. I started to
fondle my cock for her, but we were interrupted by the voices of
Bonnie, Robin, Ada, and Dr. Alan Damihnd.

Chapter 39. Satisfied Customers

Everyone seemed jubilant as Robin unlocked the room door. Dr. Damihnd
was carrying two large bottles of Champaign and Ada Kamp had the
glasses as well as her camera bag. Ada set out the glasses while
Damihnd popped the corks.

"Doug, Lisa, come over," called Bonnie. "The experience was a
complete success!"

Lisa and I walked through the connecting door and discovered an
instant party in progress. Bonnie had his tights off, and flashed
Robin's pussy at us by lifting up his dress. Robin already had his
pants off, making Bonnie's cock clearly visible every time he lifted
his arm to drink. Allen Damihnd and Ada toasted each other, then Ada
handed glasses of Champaign to Lisa and me.

Robin hugged me, and I could feel Bonnie's cock against Lisa's pussy.
Holding Lisa, Bonnie had Robin's pussy against my cock as well. It
was really just a friendly hug, and after a minute Bonnie left to hug
Lisa and Robin came over to me.

Robin pulled away from me. "Time to piss again," he said, full of
enthusiasm and heading toward the bathroom. Bonnie smiled at his
antics and took another glass of Champaign.

"Doug, I can't tell you how wonderful this is for Robin and me. I
know you both consider your own experience a disaster, but it's a
dream come true for us. Thank you for coming into our lives and
making it happen."

"Let's hope for the best," I replied. Mostly, I was trying to sip
Champaign without getting tangled up in the damn lip chain.

Robin walked back into the room completely nude. Her nipples seemed
more natural than before, and her waistline seemed less curved.
Bonnie pulled off his skirt and I noticed his hips seemed fuller and
his waist narrower. He and Robin stood together by the wall and Ada
snapped off another thirty-six pictures. Suddenly, Lisa walked over
to Dr. Damihnd and pressed her nude body against his clothes.

"Are you going to get comfortable like the rest of us, or what?" she
pried.

Damihnd shot a glance over at Ada, who gave no signal in response.
"Perhaps we should be leaving," Damihnd mumbled. He looked again at
Ada, but she stood silently and glanced between the doctor and the
rest of us. Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse and tossed it over a
chair. Removing her khaki cotton bra, she revealed large firm breasts
amply supported by well-developed shoulders and muscles. Her breasts
swayed appealingly as she bent over to untie her hiking boots, then
she stood and dropped her shorts. She was wearing men's underwear
with an unusual bulge in the crotch. Removing the last bit of
clothing uncovered a perfectly formed cock and balls.

"Your turn, Allen," said Ada facing Dr. Damihnd. He shrugged and
began undressing. Of course, he had Ada Kamp's pussy between his
legs.

"Welcome to the club, folks!" I exclaimed. "I just have two
questions; when did you visit the cavern, and why?"

Damihnd replied first. "I considered it after I first heard your
story, although my intentions at that time revolved around a certain
undergraduate woman. Ada suggested it to me after she photographed
the cave, but we decided to wait until the pictographs were decoded.
The actual experience was Tuesday evening. As to why, for me, it was
scientific curiosity."

"My reasons are much simpler. I was sick and tired of strapping on a
dildo to satisfy my lovers," Ada explained. "All respects to Allen,
this was an unpleasant one-time experience for me.

Lisa and I continued to have problems with the Champaign glasses.
Finally, I called the bar and asked them to deliver some straws and
narrow glasses to our room. I let the door open a crack, put a two
dollar tip on the table, and returned to the party.

Robin was returning from another trip to the bathroom. Bonnie's face
was all grins as he sat crossing and uncrossing his legs at the knee.
Damihnd's cock was getting hard as Ada watched Bonnie trying various
ways of sitting. Robin got some papers from his suitcase and raised
his voice to make an announcement.

"Attention everyone! I have here the final documents required for
Bonnie and me to change our legal sex. We've agreed to sign them here
and now, with all of you as witnesses. By Tuesday at the latest, both
of us will legally assume our true sexual identities. Bonnie, here's
a pen."

Bonnie stood up and took the papers from Robin. He walked over to the
table and bent over to sign them with his breasts hanging and his cute
butt protruding. He signed at least a dozen forms, then she stood up
and we applauded her. "Welcome to the superior sex," said Lisa. "Men
are such bastards," cheered Ada.

Robin took the pen from Bonnie, commenting they couldn't stay sisters
forever. She sat at the table with legs apart and balls on the
cushion. Silently, she signed all the papers then stood to receive
his applause. "Hey, that took balls, guy! Way to go!" I cheered him.
"Women are getting harder to find every day," commented Damihnd.

One by one, the rest of us signed as witnesses and congratulated
Bonnie and Robin again. My tip had been replaced by a tray of glasses
and straws, so I filled a pair and proposed a toast, "To Robin and
Bonnie, brother and sister again."

At eleven o'clock we got a call from the desk clerk asking us to quiet
down. Dr. Damihnd and Ada got dressed and left together, then the
four of us finished the last bottle of Champaign. Finally, Lisa and I
returned to our room, stored our removable jewelry, removed our makeup
and swabbed each other's piercings. This was tougher than it sounds,
since we were both blasted. We fell asleep to the sound of lovemaking
in the next room.

Chapter 40. The Calm Before Saturday, Week 3

Everybody slept late Saturday morning, but I still felt terrible. Not
only did my head and stomach ache, but my lips and tongue were sore
from all the painless talking I'd done the night before. Lisa seemed
to be in the same condition. We took the pain killers Spike had
prescribed, then showered, swabbed, and put our jewelry back on. Lisa
delayed putting on makeup until we decided what to do and wear.

Soon we began to hear noises from next door. Lisa knocked on the
connecting door and Robin said to come right in. He was standing nude
by the window, looking out through the open drapes. Bonnie was
apparently in the shower. "Hi, guys! Feeling OK? Bonnie's just
taking her shower. We're going shopping later for new underwear.
Maybe you'd like to come along and have lunch."

The shower stopped and moments later I heard a hair dryer. Lisa and I
needed to buy shaving supplies, and thought we might shop for jewelry.
This sparked an interest in Robin, who had never worn jewelry as a
woman. He asked us how much pain resulted from ear piercing, and we
suggested he keep to removable stuff like rings, bracelets, and
necklaces. Robin also took new interest in our tattoos.

Bonnie emerged from the bathroom and immediately donned a black bra
and cotton underpants. She removed a pair of dark pink lycra tights
from her suitcase and tried them on, but the front of her underwear
bunched up oddly. Clothing with built-in cock support just didn't fit
well anymore. Finally, she peeled off the tights and shot the
underpants into the trash.

"That's better. You wouldn't believe how many fashions I had to avoid
because of my lumpy crotch. Now, I'm perfectly smooth, and I have you
two to thank. You're true friends," Bonnie said, pulling on a black
tank top. She looked through her jewelry and sighed. "Lisa, you have
such nice things; can I borrow a few pieces today?"

Bonnie put on the largest pair of pierced earrings left in the box,
plus an old pair of clip-ons that Mera had sent from Chicago. Robin
and Bonnie then divided the remaining rings, bracelets, and necklaces,
based on whatever fit. Bonnie began applying brown and gold makeup to
her face. Robin borrowed a pair of men's briefs from Lisa and left to
get dressed.

Well, I thought, if we're going to be weird today, let's be weird. I
carefully pissed and then washed around the pussy rings, noticing that
the soreness had abated somewhat. I pulled on the pair of black
cycling shorts Lisa bought for me during our first visit to Santa Fe,
and found a comfortable position for the pussy rings. I also put on
my running shoes and a muscle shirt with almost no sides or back.

Lisa put on a pair of T-back briefs and her men's cutoffs, which she
had shortened in the back. The ankle boots and black leather bra top
from Ann's Hides completed her outfit, except for a long thin chain
she took back from Bonnie. Lisa threaded this behind her bra top and
through her nipple rings, letting the long end hang in front of her
stomach.

Bonnie had finished her makeup, which was extreme to say the least.
Her hair was combed back severely and the back was gathered into a
bun. As Bonnie stood, Lisa took her place by the makeup table and
began considering styles and colors. She chose deep blue lipstick,
then applied sky blue rouge past the studs in her cheeks. Lisa
shadowed her eyelids silvery white, with shocking blue eyeliner and
mascara. Somehow, she got her eyebrows to match her lipstick.

Robin returned wearing cotton pants, sneakers, and a T-shirt. He
apologized for his plain appearance, saying he couldn't explain
bringing only dull clothes. He thought Bonnie and Lisa looked great.
Lisa got up and motioned me toward the makeup table.

"Uh, sidding around da woom is one ding; da mall is anodder," I
protested. My lips and tongue were extremely sore again.

Lisa motioned me toward the makeup table again; Bonnie and Robin both
remarked I looked foolish with so much jewelry on a plain face. I
held back for a minute, but they kept urging me on. Finally, I
mumbled that I wasn't wearing leather and didn't want anything
extreme. Lisa readily agreed to this but sat me facing away from the
mirror.

Actually, it didn't turn out bad. Lisa gave me a medium brown lip
color that wasn't far from natural, and just a hint of black eye
shadow. She applied blonde mascara to my lashes and brows, making
them longer, more prominent, yet fairly natural. We all put on
sunglasses and headed for the mall.

It was noon when we arrived, and the place was starting to fill up.
We just walked around for about half an hour and nearly cracked up
watching people react to us. Robin felt terribly left out so we
stopped at a leather store where he bought studded boots, tight pants,
a sleeveless Harley Davidson shirt, and a studded cap. Bonnie and
Robin both bought metal sunglasses and were headed for a pierced
earring shop when I suggested we stop for lunch. We found a brass-and-
fern restaurant called the Champaign Bucket and got a booth for four,
non-smoking. I wanted to talk clearly, so I ordered a double straight
Scotch with a straw.

"Robin, Bonnie, I want to explain something to you. After our
experience, Lisa got heavily interested in pierced jewelry and body
adornment. I followed along and sometimes encouraged this. You saw
us progress from pretty mild stuff at that first dinner party to what
we are today. This is the progression shown in the cavern wall
narrative, and we followed it without even knowing it existed. I'm
starting to believe that a cavern experience like ours drives people
to permanently decorate their bodies."

"So?" said Robin.

"Well, neither of you were into extreme dress, heavy makeup, or
pierced jewelry until today. Now, you can't get enough. You might be
letting the cavern experience control your lives."

When the waitress came, Lisa and I ordered chef salads. Robin and
Bonnie ordered Shish Kabobs.

"Well, I don't notice any sudden interest in piercing," said Bonnie,
poking her finger with a toothpick. "I had pierced ears even when I
wasn't sure of my femininity. Now, my body is completely feminine and
I can pursue more styles."

"Same here," said Robin. "Although men do get pierced earrings, it
was threatening to me when I was trying to escape being female. Now,
I think a pierced ear would make me more masculine. I certainly don't
think the chamber is controlling my thoughts. Pass me one of those
toothpicks, will you please?"

Well, I tried. We ate lunch in relative silence, chose a meeting
place, and parted. Lisa and I bought barber clippers and electric
shavers at a department store, then foam and razors at a large drug
store. We idly bought some earring pendants and metal arm bands, but
didn't see Bonnie or Robin. Lisa considered getting chromed acrylic
nails, but we decided to wait until after our cavern visit. At
rendezvous time we returned to the agreed-upon place but Robin and
Bonnie were late.

"Hi, guys, what do you think?" said Robin's voice behind me. I wasn't
surprised to see twelve gold rings arranged along his left ear,
starting near the top. The twelve rings along his right ears were
only mildly surprising. Very surprising was the gold rod pierced from
right to left through the end of his nose. Each end of the rod
contained a loop; a chain hung from the lowest earring on each side,
passed through the nose loops, and hung to his chin.

I wanted to remind Robin of my warning, but realized it was too late.
"Won't your appearance interfere with being a lawyer?" I asked.

"If it becomes a problem, I'll file suit," he replied.

"Where's Bonnie?" Lisa asked.

"She's still getting her jewelry put in," Robin replied. Lisa and I
exchanged glances. "Well, her jewelry wouldn't show with hair hanging
all over it. She had to get it cut shorter," he explained.

We waited another thirty minutes outside a local craft store. Robin
explained that the regular jewelry stores didn't do heavy piercing,
but the craft artisan designed and installed almost anything.
Wonderful. The weird reactions from the crowd were getting less
amusing by the minute. At least we were out of town and no one would
recognize me under my jewelry.

"Doug, Lisa, how's it going? I wouldn't have recognized you without
the jewelry." I spun around to locate the source of this nightmare
and discovered Carla and Hal. They wore long-sleeved shirts and
didn't have their stuff on.

"Wow, it takes some guts to walk around a shopping mall like that,"
Carla pointed out. "Don't you get a lot of strange people approaching
you?"

I wanted to say something, but didn't. "We're waiting for my brother,
I mean sister. Here she comes," Robin explained.

Bonnie had a flat-top haircut, long on top, perhaps an inch. It swept
outward to a point in front, and narrowed like a V to the back of her
neck. The sides were shaved to stubble and her scalp showed through
clearly.

Like Robin, she had a dozen earrings on each side On the left, she
wore silver with long pendants, and on the right, plain gold rings.
There were no nose rings, but a chain extended from an earring to a
cheek stud on each side. I don't think Carla or Hal noticed, but I
detected traces of nipple rings under Bonnie's tank top.

"Are we ready to go?" I asked.

"I still have an appointment for my hair," said Robin.

"I need more jewelry," said Bonnie.

"You folks are incredibly bold. I can't imagine what it must be
like," commented Carla.

"Why not join us?" asked Lisa, and it was done. Robin and Bonnie
stayed at the mall while the four of us headed back to Encanto
Retreat. Lisa and I dumped our purchases in the room while Hal and
Carla changed into as much jewelry and as little clothing as possible.
They liked some of our jewelry so much that we traded some of our
pieces for some of theirs. Carla intensified her makeup as well. We
were waiting in the lobby and freaking people out when they appeared.
Hal wore a small pair of black stretch shorts, a ribbed light blue
tank top, and soft leather shoes. Carla was dressed, so to speak, in
a blue-green lycra jumpsuit with very short legs and no back, plus
gold-colored wedge sandals.

"You both look great," Lisa noticed. "You claim to lack the guts to
go out, but you seem experienced. How can that be?"

"We keep it at home, plus shows and conventions. I like the short
haircuts you folks have," Carla replied.

"Cutting it takes half an hour; growing it requires patience. I dare
you both to get a haircut," challenged Lisa.

"Like what?" asked Carla.

"Crewcut, flat top, spot, Mohawk, spike, any shape or figure you
want," Lisa suggested.

"Maybe a fish on each side, huh? Do you think they'd do that?" Carla
asked.

"They chopped Bonnie down pretty good," I pointed out.

"OK, Hal, I dare you to get a haircut also. You might as well,
because you're going to be seen with me. What do you say?" Carla
challenged.

"Turnabout is fair play; I claim revenge," Hal replied. "Let's go.
I'll pick a style on the way."

Lisa was already on the hotel phone, calling to set up appointments.
Business was slack late on a Saturday afternoon, and getting a stylist
wasn't a problem. Lisa requested two short hair specialists.

I was growing accustomed to the commotion that followed us through the
mall, but Hal and Carla had trouble coping. "Don't worry, they're
looking at us, not you," I told them.

Robin was just coming out of the salon. He'd chosen a flat-top spot,
but with a long braid hanging over each temple and behind each ear.
"Hi, guys! How's it going? Hal and Carla, you look great! What
brings you back?"

"We're getting haircuts," explained Carla.

"Terrific. They do good work here; I can't understand why I never
tried this style before. Bonnie and I have some things to attend to;
can you all stay together and meet us at nine o'clock back at the
hotel? We'll have a late dinner." I didn't have to ask where they
were going.

Carla got her entire head shaved to a quarter inch, then the stylist
buzzed off everything except for a large fish over each ear and an eel
extending from the back of her neck to her forehead. Hal started with
a fairly conventional flat top but after seeing Carla he countered
with a pattern of five-pointed stars like a wizard's hat. Neither of
them could believe what they'd done, but they seemed to be having a
good time.

"It's five o'clock. What do we want to do?" I asked.

"Come with us," Hal suggested, and he drove us to an obscure,
practically unmarked bar. No one batted an eye when we entered. I'd
never seen so many tattoos and piercings in my life. We found a table
and nursed drinks for the next three hours, exchanging glances with
the other customers. All the drinks came with straws, even beer. Hal
and Carla seemed to know quite a few of the regulars and they all
chatted about their latest work. It wasn't a high-class crowd, but
all the ink and metal were high-quality. A few people came out of a
back room rubbing new tattoos.

At eight thirty we got ready to leave, but stopped when I spotted
Bonnie in the doorway to the back room. Over her left breast was the
image of Zeus hurling lightning bolts at her cleavage. Robin appeared
a minute later, carrying his shirt in his hand. We hailed them on
their way out, and they each pulled up a chair.

"What a coincidence!" exclaimed Bonnie. Zeus didn't have much on,
just his quiver and the Grecian equivalent of a studded leather thong.

"Did you have any work done, Robin?" I asked. Nothing was visible
until Robin turned around, then I saw Lady Justice with her right arm
raised and her hand pointing into the distance. It was a large figure
and only the outlines were complete.

"She going to be banishing a demon caught ravishing a maiden. Her
left hand will hold the demon's severed cock," explained Robin. "I'm
sure Drew Picshire can finish it. Hal and Carla, you guys are looking
better all the time. How'd you find us?"

"We hang out here whenever we're in town. Carla's family is here,"
explained Hal.

"Oh, in Santa Fe? How nice!" Lisa commented.

"No, in this bar. Her dad, Len, does the tattoos, and that's her mom,
Dawn, behind the bar." Not for the first time, I looked at Dawn
Slied. She was middle aged but had a good figure and very long hair.
There were tattoos all over her body, mostly of flowers, butterflies,
and mythical figures.

Hal recommended a certain Mexican restaurant, and the food was
delicious. The other customers were a riot; I couldn't believe how
ridiculous they looked gawking at us: peek, hide, peek, hide,
whisper, peek, giggle. You'd think they never saw anyone wear jewelry
before.

We got back to the hotel at eleven o'clock and peeled off our dirty
clothes. It hadn't occurred to anyone that Hal and Carla might be
shocked by this, but after a few minutes they joined us. I was right
about Bonnie's nipple rings, but hadn't expected pussy rings on Carla.
Both Hal and Carla were amazed to find my cock attached to Lisa, and
vice versa, but they got over it fairly quickly. We chatted until
midnight, then I left a wake-up call and went to bed with Lisa.

Chapter 41. Back to the Scene Sunday, Week 3

The wake up call came at eight o'clock Sunday morning. We had four
hours to eat breakfast and get ready for Dr. Damihnd, who would arrive
at noon. We planned to reach the cavern entrance at one thirty,
complete our preparations, and enter the chamber at two fifteen.

Lisa ordered breakfast as I got ready to shower. Lisa showered after
me and was still in the washroom when breakfast came. I stayed under
the sheet and tipped the waiter. As we ate, I noticed how plain
Lisa's face looked with just rings and no makeup.

After eating, we carefully kissed, then took the top sheet from the
bed and spread it on the floor. I set a dining chair in the middle of
the sheet and plugged in the clippers. The cord wasn't long enough,
but I found an extension cord on one of the room lamps. I flipped a
quarter, and Lisa called heads. Heads it was and Lisa decided to be
shaved first.

I selected the shortest clipper attachment and ran it from the back of
her neck to her forehead. In five minutes, her head had nothing but
stubble. While I was at it, I clipped her eyebrows too. Nothing else
was long enough for the clippers so Lisa moved to the bed. I used a
ladies' shaver on her legs and arms, first on the front then the back.
My cock was a little sweaty, and I decided that a razor was called
for. I filled the ice bucket with warm water, wet down my cock and
balls, applied the lather, and shaved them smooth. My cock stiffened
at all this attention and Lisa smiled at me. Finally, we moved to the
bathroom and Lisa sat on the edge of the tub while I lathered and
shaved her entire head. She had hair sticking to her everywhere and
had to take another shower. I shook out the bed sheet as I waited for
Lisa to emerge. Finally, she did.

"Doug, I can't believe how weird this is," she said, rubbing her
scalp. "You're next."

Lisa ran the clippers over my head, eyebrows, and face. After I moved
to the bed, she used it on the rest of me, too: arms, legs, chest,
back. She went over everything again with the men's shaver, then with
the ladies'. Finally, as I had done, she shaved my crotch and head.
I took a shower and after I dried we embraced like two bald eagles.

"Now comes the hard part," Lisa said, picking up the tweezers. We sat
inches apart under the dining lamp as she began to pluck my eyelashes.
It hurt, and it took at least an hour. Frequently, I got a hair in my
eye and we had to pause. Finally, it was done and we changed
positions. After another hour of painful plucking we were hairless.

We took care to wear identical jewelry in identical locations. We
continued until there were no more matching pieces in the jewelry box,
then Lisa pulled out the fax from Dr. Damihnd and began applying
makeup accordingly. Forced now to look at herself, she reacted with
both shock and amusement. Lisa copied additional details from Claude
Storm's necklace design. When she finished, her face looked like a
piece of Indian artwork done in coral, turquoise, and silver. She
applied the same pattern to my face and we stopped to rest. It was
eleven thirty, and Robin knocked on the connecting door. Lisa told
him to come in.

Robin was clearly shocked by our appearance. No matter how short the
haircut, baldness has a powerful effect all its own. The makeup job
was very striking as well.

Dr. Damihnd and Ada arrived at twelve sharp and took their pictures.
Lisa and I helped each other pull on a T-shirt without messing up our
makeup, then slipped on baggy shorts and running shoes. The clothes
we wore didn't matter, of course; we'd be nude in the chamber. We all
left at twelve forty-five. Hal and Carla saw us loading up and they
came along too, bringing their cameras. At the wilderness area, Ada
used her Jeep to drive Damihnd and us right up to the cavern, then
returned for Bonnie and Robin.

Claude and Renee Storm were already there. They asked us to disrobe
and muttered approval of our jewelry and tattoos. Nevertheless, Renee
pierced in a few more earrings and poked two long needles through a
fold she made in the back of our necks. Claude painted our scalps
with a half-bird, half human design.

Damihnd showed us the radio beeper. It was a simple device that
sounded when he pressed a button outside. He would press it at two
thirty, two thirty-five and, of course, two thirty-seven. At ten
after two, we climbed to the cavern entrance, faced each other, and
entered.

The cavern was well lit through the chimney. Claude Storm had placed
two blankets on the central table for comfort; they were woven with
images from the walls, probably by Renee. I held Lisa and kissed her
tenderly. We stroked each other's bodies lightly, and I felt my cock
rise against my thigh. Lisa's pussy warmed. We continued light
touching and kissing until the first beep: two thirty.

Lisa reclined on the table and I mounted her. I ground my hips
against her and felt my cock harden. Lisa's pussy was flowing
heavily. When the second beep came, I carefully maneuvered Lisa's
pussy to enfold my cock. I could feel both cock rings press against
me as well as the pussy rings, but it wasn't painful for either of us.
We rocked our hips and I worked Lisa's pussy up and down. Two thirty-
seven had to be seconds away, so I ground Lisa's clitoris against the
cock rings and experienced ecstasy. Lisa gasped and shook at the same
time.

Suddenly, my point of view shifted. I was at the top of the cavern,
right at the apex of the pyramid. I was conscious of Lisa beside me
although I couldn't see her. Below, I could see our bodies screwing.
A brilliant beam of light suddenly came down the chimney and struck
the master crystal. Beams of every color danced around the room. Our
bodies kept on screwing, but their shapes became fluid. My features
were flowing into Lisa's body, and hers into mine. Finally, my body
and Lisa's were complete again, with mine on the bottom and Lisa's on
top. Our climax had lasted two or three minutes already, but we
experienced a final bolt of supreme ecstasy before descending into our
bodies. It was over.

Chapter 42. Habeus Corpus July

It's July now. Life got pretty crazy after our second experience in
the cavern, and there just hasn't been time to record my thoughts. If
what follows seems disorganized, welcome to my new life.

The wedding went pretty well, all things considered. We switched it
from a banquet hall in Stratford Estates to the pool deck at the
estate. Lisa and her mom held out briefly for nudity required, but
the invitations went out clothing optional. Lisa's family wasn't
bothered at all, but my folks and most of their friends couldn't
believe it until Marble met them at the gate.

Both of us wore identical white-enameled jewelry custom-designed by
Spike for the occasion. For tradition, a top hat graced my head and
Lisa's forehead carried a coronet and veil. Chip Bildehr was the best
man and insisted on wearing a dress. Wanda was the maid of honor; at
first she wasn't going to wear anything but then she decided that a
black pants outfit would complement Chip. Shag and Victor were the
ushers because no one from my side of the family could bear to escort
a naked lady to her seat. Honest, I'm not making this up. Tina Tates
and Marble were the bridesmaids. Tina was a really good sport and
remained nude during her entire visit.

My parents were greatly relieved they didn't have to walk me down the
aisle, given my new appearance. I think my dad was afraid he might
get an erection with me on his arm. My mom was just glad she didn't
have to walk down the aisle with her tattoo hanging out. It was just
a tiny heart on her butt, but she'd regretted it all these years. I
never even knew she had it.

The minister kept getting us mixed up, but I guess I can't blame him.
It takes weeks for most people to adjust to our change, even though
Lisa and I have become experts at the process. We always insist on
being called the right name and being referred to in the correct
gender. We may decide differently in the future, though. It's been
on our minds.

We slipped the wedding rings over our fingers and the minister
pronounced us man and wife. Everyone applauded, Lisa threw my hat
into the air, and I tossed her veil. She looked a little strange
wearing the garter, and I'm sure I looked even stranger throwing it.
All the young girls watched my butt as Lisa threw the bouquet over my
shoulder. Roberta Fulton photographed the entire event.

The banquet was exquisite, served outdoors on white linen, silver, and
china. A few cottontail guests got sunburned, but Wanda was ready
with sun block and burn lotion. She and Saul had new wreaths of white
flowers tattooed around their left ankles, just to remember the
occasion.

The party moved inside when the sun set. Slowly, people started
wishing us good luck and returning to their homes and hotels. Lisa
and I said good-bye to most of the guests, then returned to our room,
removed our jewelry, and slumped into bed. In the morning we would
leave for Mexico, even though we couldn't use our own passports.

Sex was still completely fascinating for both of us. Neither of us
realized what a total body experience it really is. I would have
thought the biggest change was getting Lisa's pussy, but the
sensations from the rest of her body are actually more extensive. The
smaller lungs, the larger partner, the rounder hips, the smaller mass,
the greater flexibility: all these combine to a totally new experience
compared to sex in a male body. Lisa says sex on the bottom with a
larger body gives her a greater sense of control than she ever had
being on top with a smaller body.

Neither of us has lost our fascination with body decoration; we keep
shopping for jewelry and spending two or three hours a week getting
ink. The more decorated we become, the less inclined we are to cover
it. Both of us tend to wear the minimum at all times.

Of course, we were both completely disoriented after the second cavern
experience. I expected to find myself on the bottom, because that's
where my body ended up. Instead, I was still on top. After figuring
that out, I tried to stand up but missed the floor with Lisa's shorter
legs. My cussing alerted Lisa, who also didn't know up from down; she
simply sat on the edge of the table and looked around. The first
thing she looked at was my cock.

"Doug, it didn't work," said my voice.

I stood up and gave our bodies the once over. "Look straight ahead at
yourself, Lisa. Your body is whole again," I said in her voice.

"Oh, shit!" Lisa screamed. "You're me! I must be you!" She began
examining my arms, legs, hands, toes, and chest. I tried doing a few
knee bends and nearly fell down again. My sense of balance was
completely out of whack, like roller skating or walking on stilts for
the first time. Lisa gingerly stepped onto the floor and we held
hands walking around the table. After ten or twelve circuits, we
tried it no-hands. Five minutes later, we weren't terribly steady but
we felt confident enough to leave the cave.

Our clothes were at the bottom of the crevice and I didn't feel too
confident about climbing down the foot holes with shorter arms and
legs. "We're a little unsteady. Can someone bring up our clothes and
a rope?" I shouted down.

A few minutes later, Ada Kamp appeared with our clothes and a back
pack. I almost reached for my own clothes, then remembered I'd be
needing Lisa's. Ada fastened the rope to a secure footing and I
grabbed it tightly as I swung Lisa's legs over the edge. I'm sure I
would have fallen without the rope. Claude Storm saw the difficulty I
was having and guided my feet into the rock holes once I was within
reach. Lisa followed a few minutes later.

"Did it work?" asked Allen Damihnd.

"It seemed to," said Ada.

Renee Storm examined the back or our necks and signed a message to
Claude. "Renee says it did not work. Doug did not get his cock back,
he received Lisa's entire body. Lisa has received Doug's entire body.
The marked needles tell their story," Claude interpreted.

Well, our secret had lasted all of five minutes. There was nothing
more to do except return to the Encanto Retreat. Everyone was silent,
except for necessary coordination. Dr. Damihnd had brought more
Champaign, but he asked us about it before bringing it in. I'd never
noticed before that he usually looked at me when he talked, but now of
course he tended to face Lisa.

The mood in our room was subdued. Finally, Bonnie faced both of us
and asked if we regretted our decision. Lisa spoke first.

"It'll take some time to work out my feelings, but right now I'm glad
we tried. I'd rather have my own body, but at least now I have an
anatomically correct one. I'd never have forgiven myself if we hadn't
tried the only way back to where we started. How about you, Doug?"

"I never wanted to be a woman, but I didn't want to be a guy with a
pussy, either. I regret the outcome, but not that we tried," I said.
It surprised me that I could speak so clearly and painlessly. In
fact, none of my piercings hurt at all. Somehow, during the
transformation, they'd become completely healed. I pointed this out
to Lisa, and she reported the same.

"Well, let's drink Champaign," I urged everyone. Lisa and I undressed
so Ada could take her pictures, then Bonnie and Robin followed suit,
so to speak. Even Hal and Carla stripped down. Damihnd and Ada were
the odd-looking people now, but they enjoyed themselves in the buff as
well. I'd been too preoccupied to notice earlier, but Damihnd had
picked up a few earrings somewhere. Ada sported an Amazon warrior on
her arm and a haircut I can only describe as bull dyke.

After a few glasses of Champaign, Dr. Damihnd pulled me aside. "Doug,
I want you to be aware of something. A group of people called the
Anasazi once inhabited the area new now call Santa Fe but vanished in
the 13th century. By the 16th century, the Pueblo civilization was
well established. I had the cavern drawings dated, and they originate
from the late 13th century. Some social upheaval drove the Anasazi
out of New Mexico. The cavern and its forces were built by people we
know almost nothing about. Perhaps the forces present in the cavern
drove the Anasazi away; there's no way to tell.

"Dr. Ray Surtz feels that some of the cavern tiles refer to a larger,
more powerful cavern. If his interpretation is correct, that cavern
is located underground near Los Alamos Labs, a nuclear facility.
Here's the point: we haven't exhausted all resources to get you and
Lisa back to normal. The second cavern, if it still exists, hasn't
been discovered yet, but we'll be looking. In the meantime, you and
Lisa should be deciding whether you'd undergo another experience."

I thanked Damihnd for his information and was relieved we didn't have
to make an immediate decision. Nobody felt like going out, so I had
pizza and beer delivered to Bonnie's empty room, again leaving the
door ajar and the tip on the table. The damn lip chain still got in
the way when I tried to drink from the bottle, but I worked around it.
I felt full much sooner than I expected, but of course Lisa's entire
system was smaller than mine. After everyone else left we fucked like
bunnies but I didn't want to get pregnant and made Lisa put on a
rubber.

Chapter 43. Sweet Home, Chicago Monday, Week 4

Bonnie and Robin had a two o'clock plane for San Francisco, while Lisa
and I needed to catch a twelve forty-six back to Chicago. We had all
decided Friday to leave Santa Fe Monday at ten. The wake-up call came
at eight and I nearly fell out of bed before remembering the new
dimensions I had to deal with. Lisa showered first and came out with
a puzzled expression on her face. "Doug, look at your head. I don't
think Claude's painting will be coming off."

She forgot my body was taller than hers and I had to ask her to sit.
Sure enough, Claude's painting seemed to have sunk into the skin like
a tattoo. Fortunately, my hair would cover it when it grew back. I
wasn't so sure about Lisa's hair, being blonde.

We dressed in mostly matching jewelry and Lisa insisted on making up
my face. I didn't really see how to stop her now, and anyway, she was
the one people would stare at. I did want makeup on her face, and
Lisa coached me through it. She insisted I wear some tiny shorts that
didn't cover her butt and a bra top that didn't cover her tits. For
herself, she quickly decided all my clothes were too bulky and
proceeded to cut my knee-length shorts alarmingly short. The vests
were more to her liking, but she wore them without a shirt so my
nipple rings showed. I suppose women are more accustomed to exposing
their bodies than men.

We only had one hat between us: the black one Lisa bought me for our
first dinner with Bonnie and Robin. It didn't seem fair for me to
walk around as a tattoo-headed bald woman while Lisa simply appeared
as a guy with a hat, so we both went bare-headed. We took safety like
ostriches behind our sunglasses. Given our new awkwardness, we opted
for sure footing and both wore running shoes.

Lisa carried our bags out to the lobby. Of course, I carried her
purse. To my surprise, Bonnie had already paid for both rooms; we
wandered around and waited for her and Robin to appear. Almost
everyone who passed by stared at Lisa's body intently, surely more
than they stared at mine, I thought. I'd never noticed people staring
less at me than at Lisa and wondered if it was my imagination.

Robin showed up at five after ten, lugging two suitcases. Bonnie, who
was five inches taller, watched him with an amused grin. Both were
dressed rather casually; Robin had a tank top and nylon running
splits. Bonnie wore a gray crop-top falling off one shoulder and pink
lycra bib shorts that narrowed to a thin strap between her breasts.

"I don't remember those clothes. Have you two been shopping this
morning?" Lisa asked.

"We threw away all our old clothes and underwear. It's hard to
imagine walking around with that bulky stuff on, isn't it? Packing
took no time at all, so we drove around looking for a store.
Stretch's Sporting Goods was the only place open at nine o'clock. How
do we look?" bubbled Bonnie.

There was no doubt that something had completely changed Robin's and
Bonnie's outlook on body decoration and clothing. I realized that
Lisa and I had undergone the same change. All four of us felt naked
without our piercings, tattoos, and jewelry prominently displayed.
Clothing was an uncomfortable nuisance, to be avoided as much as
possible and useful only to highlight our adornments. I decided to
think more about it later.

"You look great, Bonnie. Your tattoo looks better today. Why get
caught up in clothing?" I remarked as we left Encanto Retreat. The
doorman swallowed his whistle.

For the drive to Albuquerque, Robin and I sat in the front seat and
the girls sat in back. Bonnie took off her crop top for a while and
flashed truck drivers. Lisa felt left out and asked for the bra top I
was wearing. I flashed her breasts at a few passing vans but found it
rather boring; women drivers didn't care to look at tits and I didn't
care to arouse any men.

Walking through the airport was much more amusing. I hadn't been able
to retie the bra top properly in the car and felt it slipping off as
we stood in the baggage line. There was an Air Force enlisted man in
front of me, so I got his attention, turned around, and asked him to
retie me. The guy was scared shitless, and I had to ask three more
people before finding someone to help. Of course, I could have asked
Lisa but she was having more fun than I was.

Robin and Bonnie waited with us at the gate. We all kissed and hugged
when the boarding call was issued; Robin and Lisa got some strange
reactions from the people around us while Bonnie and I giggled at what
they didn't know. Robin said he would start the patent application
for my hair removal process and prepare to incorporate the new
company. Bonnie said she would keep working with Eddy Gismeau. We
all promised to keep in touch.

The flight back to Chicago was mundane. People peeked and whispered
as usual, and a male flight attendant dropped a glass of ice water
down Lisa's cleavage. I stood up to complain, then handed him the bra
top and told him to get it dried off before I froze to death. They
made me wait in the lavatory but gave me unrestricted round-trip
tickets for two.

Somehow, the last hour of a three-hour flight always seems longer than
the first two. My misadventures in Santa Fe and San Francisco were
over; now I had to get on with my life. I wanted to stay with
Quixotic Designs and be on-site administrator for the MicroMind
project, but couldn't imagine how that was possible with me trapped
inside Lisa's heavily pierced and tattooed body. I couldn't
masquerade as Lisa and get another job in my own field; she had no
engineering experience and her college degree was in Medieval
Literature. Even if she stripped my face of jewelry and wore a wig,
she could never fake doing my job.

It didn't seem constructive to wait around for Dr. Damihnd to discover
another cavern, and it probably wasn't prudent to undergo a third
experience even if he did. The hair removal process seemed like a
distant fantasy now, and I doubted there would be time to pursue it.
My prospects looked bleak. Lisa might be able to carry on as a male
fitness instructor, but my body could never do ten hours of aerobics a
day as hers did.

The concourse at O'Hare was a little chilly, but not bad. Outside, it
was forty-six degrees. Both of us had used remote parking and neither
had a jacket; all we could do was pay a fortune for two extra-long
Chicago Bulls sweatshirts and get on the bus. The driver looked
straight at us without blinking an eye; he was either African, blind,
or shell-shocked. I took my keys out of Lisa's purse, started my car,
cranked up the heat, and adjusted the seat and mirrors. Lisa's car
was parked even further away, so I drove her to out to it and we
waited together until it warmed up. I didn't feel like returning to
an empty apartment, so we both headed for Lisa's place.

Lisa beat me to her apartment but the door keys were in her purse and
I found her waiting outside. She'd pulled the sweatshirt over my head
so only my eyes were visible through the neck opening. My legs must
have been freezing.

"You're going to get a cold in my chest like that," I scolded her.

"I'll freeze your balls off if you don't open that purse," Lisa
retorted. I held her purse open and she quickly fished her keys out
and opened the door. Naturally, the heat was turned down and it was
half an hour before we could strip. There was nothing in the kitchen
to eat and going out posed too many problems, so we ordered pizza from
a local dive.

We discussed trading apartments but decided to just trade wardrobes in
the short term. It was fine for Robin and Bonnie to throw out their
old stuff, but we decided to keep it just in case our preferences
changed again. We did trade cars because Lisa barely fit into hers
and I had trouble seeing over my hood. It seemed logical for us to
call in sick for each other Tuesday morning and then play things by
ear for Wednesday. I put a sweatshirt back on when the guy came with
the pizza, but he was so busy looking at Lisa's face that I probably
needn't have bothered.

The pizza messed up our lipstick and we were too tired to fix it. We
dumped our jewelry in the box, cleaned our faces, and fell into bed.
Lisa kissed her nipples and I massaged my shoulder blades. I could
feel her ears blushing differently than mine ever had, and sensed the
touch of my larger thigh against Lisa's slim legs. She held the back
of her neck and stroked her hips as I moved her hand toward my crotch.
We kissed passionately, and I bit my lip gently. Lisa straddled me
and lowered my cock toward her waiting pussy. I grabbed a condom from
her purse and made her put it on. I could feel the cock rings
massaging her clitoris, and began tightening her vagina. I'm not sure
when my cock erupted, but Lisa's pussy shook several times in ecstasy
and I saw stars.

We drifted to sleep without pulling up the covers. Later, it got
chilly but I just turned up the thermostat. Sex with Lisa is never
dull.

Chapter 44. Physical Exercise Tuesday, Week 4

Tuesday morning Lisa used my voice to call Quixotic Designs. Phylen
Tipe answered the phone and connected her to Eric Tower. Lisa said
I'd been involved in an accident and would be out for at least two
weeks. Eric was disappointed but considerate. He promised to put me
on disability pay if I could bring in a doctor's statement.

Since there was nothing to eat, I went to the grocery store. It took
me forty-five minutes to put on Lisa's face and another twenty for
jewelry, even with Lisa helping me. Lisa tossed me a large sweatshirt
that tended to uncover her butt and I was ready. There was almost no
one in the store but I made a stock boy drop a basket of oranges.

Slowly, I was getting used to Lisa's body. I didn't feel shrunken,
exactly, although I was constantly aware of being shorter. I couldn't
see over crowds and objects as I did before, and the proportions of
things like doorknobs and counter tops were confusing. When I reached
for something, I usually placed Lisa's hand below and in front of it.

Lisa's body was incredibly light and limber. Her arms and legs
constantly surprised me by being lighter than I expected. On the
other hand, I tended not to push hard enough on things like car doors
and light switches. Activities like jogging and climbing stairs
seemed incredibly easy and didn't tire Lisa's body at all.

At eleven o'clock I called Spike at Piercing Scream and explained my
problem. He'd spoken with Bonnie and Robin and wasn't surprised to
hear me speaking in Lisa's voice. After some discussion, he agreed to
write a statement saying my face and body had been pierced by dozens
of metal fragments while in San Francisco. He promised to send it by
overnight mail.

The next problem was finding a way for Lisa to deliver Spike's
statement to Eric Tower. The only idea we could think of was a
disguise like The Invisible Man. After lunch, Lisa started calling
costume companies and I called shyster lawyers. One of the lawyers
came through first; his legal secretary referred us to a guy named
Packey Slappe who made fake plaster casts. Most of his clients
worked, so getting a daytime appointment was easy. We took four-
thirty.

All day we'd been sorting clothes. Anything we didn't like, we threw
on the bed. This included wool suits, long skirts and dresses, dowdy
blouses, nightgowns, and most underwear. I saved a few bras, teddies,
and camisoles that might be usable on warm days.

Packey didn't take long to measure my head and shoulders. We told him
gauze was as good as plaster, and he agreed to whip something up by
two o'clock the next day. Covering my hands was no problem; Packey
handed Lisa a pair of burn gloves.

After ordering the cast we stopped at a U-Haul outlet to buy storage
boxes. It was fortunate we drove my car because four dozen shipping
cartons wouldn't have fit in Lisa's subcompact. Next, we headed to my
apartment to turn up the heat and drop off boxes. I'm sure some of
the neighbors saw us arrive because their front drapes were flapping
like flags. Lisa took my keys out of my pants pocket and we ducked
inside. Again, it took half an hour for the place to heat up.

Everything seemed like ancient history: my old mail, my old books, my
old clothes, my old sports equipment, my old life. I had almost no
clothes that seemed suitable for Lisa; after sorting, all that
remained were some running shorts, an old pair of tennis shorts that
were really too tight, and two tank tops. We packed the rest except
for one suit Lisa could wear to Quixotic. Later, I threw on Lisa's
sweatshirt and got Chinese carry-out for dinner.

After eating I used Lisa's voice to call Fit & Trim and talk with
Mera. Mera said the last class ended at ten and suggested we drop by.
This was fine with Lisa, so at nine forty-five we pulled on our Bulls
sweatshirts and drove to the salon. The last customers were leaving
just as we arrived but Mera was nowhere in sight. I called Mera's
name a few times and we finally heard her voice coming from the
equipment room.

I expected a shocked reaction, but the shock was ours. Mera was
sitting upright on top of Waylon Bellomore, her current heart throb.
Waylon worked as a tax accountant but at that moment he was stretched
out nude on a weight bench with his cock pointed straight up into
Mera's pussy. Mera seemed to be getting a pretty good ride. She was
facing the doorway and noticed us come in.

"Hi, Lisa. Hi, Doug. I love your new look. We'll be a little while
yet; why don't you take the other bench?" she greeted us. Mera was
unabashedly stroking her nipples and clitoris. This wasn't her usual
behavior; normally she was shy about herself, wore baggy sweat
clothes, and kept her sex life private. As we drew closer, I noticed
more changes.

Mera was wearing the pair of earrings Lisa had sent her, plus ten or
twelve more on each side. Her haircut was half an inch long at most,
consisting of an arrow pointing to her forehead and a shoulder-length
braid in the back. The rest was buzzed. She wore bright green
lipstick with gold and black eye makeup. A spike was pierced in and
out of her upper lip, with a chain that looped from each end to her
chin. In her navel was a half-inch ring with a chain that fell to her
closely-trimmed pussy. She had wings like Mercury tattooed on her
ankles and the Incredible Hunk on her upper arm.

Waylon and Mera seemed to be having such a good time that Lisa
immediately tossed my sweatshirt on a Nautilus machine and lay back on
the other weight bench. I knelt beside her and we kissed, then she
reached under her sweatshirt and started stroking her breast. I
fondled my cock expertly and soon we were ready for more. I tossed
Lisa's sweatshirt beside mine, then swung her leg over my body. I
fished a condom out of Lisa's purse, rolled it onto my cock, and
lowered her pussy around it. The weight benches were just the right
height so that Lisa's feet reached the floor.

Mera looked over at us while stroking both hands over her butt.
"Lisa, Doug, this is really a coincidence! You two look great! When
did you get yourselves done? Tell me what happened!" She was still
rocking on Waylon, so I continued grinding away at Lisa.

"We've had two mystic experiences in an ancient ceremonial cavern,
carved out like a pyramid. Lisa and I have exchanged bodies," I
explained.

Mera looked back and forth between us. Staring right into Lisa's
eyes, she asked me, "Who was it that gave the dog a haircut and
painted its toenails?"

"I have no idea," I replied. It was hard to concentrate with Lisa's
pussy so close to cumming.

"Well, I guess that proves it, Doug. Only you wouldn't know that.
Lisa must be the one on the bottom," Mera deduced. Just then, she
closed her eyes and arched her back.

"Mera, you always had long hair and wore baggy sweat suits. When did
you decide to switch?" I asked, just barely getting out the last
sentence before I too lost control.

It took a moment for Mera to get her composure back. She grinned at
me as women do just before spilling a secret. "Well, I got your
letter by express mail Saturday morning. The earrings you sent were
lovely, so I put them right on. They felt great, and I began to
wonder why I'd limited myself all these years to wearing only one
pair. I closed up shop at two o'clock and went looking for jewelry.
Just a minute." Mera clutched her breasts as she looked at the
ceiling and bucked her hips.

"I found so many wonderful earrings that I just had them all put in,"
she resumed. "Finally, they told me I'd had enough and offered to
call a cab. My ears were pretty sore, so I let them. The cabby had
tattoos all over his back and a nose ring that looked delicious. He
drove me to the best ink shop on the North side; that's where I got my
wings and rings." Waylon and Lisa were going crazy. Lisa's pussy
tightened up and sent tingles all through her body; this was my second
cumming.

"What about Waylon?" Lisa asked, not controlling her breathing very
well.

"Oh, he was perturbed when he picked me up for our symphony date
Saturday night. I couldn't believe how he carried on, especially
after I bought a purple spandex mini just for the occasion. He
refused to go out and fell asleep on the couch instead. I was pissed,
let me tell you. I sharpened one of your earrings, sneaked up behind
him, and pierced it through his left ear." Mera fell forward and
braced her forearms on Waylon's chest. This increased pressure on her
clitoris and she jerked her butt in ecstasy.

"The earring nearly made Waylon hit the ceiling, but he thought I just
pinched him and didn't realize he had an earring on. It was half an
hour before he noticed it in the mirror, but then he just looked at it
and smiled. Next thing you know, Waylon was scanning the phone book
for late-night jewelers. He bought eight pairs that night and went
with me on Sunday to get ink. That's when I got The Hulk and Waylon
got the U.S. Treasury building."

Lisa's pussy came for the third time; I apologize if I missed a few
details of Mera's story. Mera apparently decided to put Waylon out of
his misery because she stopped talking and concentrated on tightening
her pussy. Moments later, Waylon exploded with a lout shout. Lisa
did the same.

Mera stood up and wiped her pussy with a towel. Facing me directly,
she asked, "Are you coming into the shop tomorrow, Lisa?"

"Actually, my balance has been off lately. I'd probably make a fool
of myself," Lisa replied. All four of us were wiping ourselves off
now. Lisa threw the condom into the trash.

"Those tattoos are just fantastic! I love it that you two have
matching work. Lisa, what are you going to do if you don't lead
classes?" Mera asked nervously, mounting an exercise bike.

Lisa walked to a vertical weight machine and began pulling. "Well, my
balance keeps improving and I may take up body building. I'm also
thinking of opening a second center, as we've discussed before. That
way I wouldn't have to lead classes." The part about body building
was news to me, but it matched Lisa's prior lifestyle.

"Doug, you really should exercise. Why don't you lead some classes
tomorrow? No one would know the difference," Mera suggested.

I began flexing a pair of three pound barbells. "I don't think that
would work out, Mera. I've never done it before and I don't know the
routines. I have my own job to think about, too. Waylon, have you
been cumming here often?"

He was doing inclined sit-ups. "We just started Sunday evening. I
never tried any of this equipment before, but now I'm getting into it.
I still like the weight bench best."

Mera moved to Nordic Track. "Doug, you should be more confident of
yourself. Tina could stay on until you learn all the routines, and I
don't think you'll be sitting in the offices of Quixotic Designs
anytime soon," she pointed out.

"I'd never be able to last all day. Aerobics wear me out in no time
at all," I countered, touching my toes.

"Doug, I did aerobics for ten hours a day in that body, and now so can
you. I'm covering your job tomorrow, and I think you should cover
mine," Lisa insisted. I was surprised that my arm strength was
holding out for her.

"Then it's settled. Be here at nine-thirty and dress to sweat," Mera
instructed. "Well, we have to go. Are you ready, Waylon? I'll see
you tomorrow, Doug. Bye!"

She was out the door before I could remind her. "Mera, you forgot
your clothes!"

"She'll get 'em tomorrow morning," Waylon shouted, heading toward her
car. It was a warm night.

Lisa was still pulling vertical weights. Amazingly, she was already
beyond my limit. Perhaps it was more a question of determination than
of sheer strength, I thought. It would be hard to keep her body in
the condition I received it. We moved around various machines for
another twenty minutes, then sat to rest.

"Doug, what have we done to Mera and Waylon?" Lisa asked.

"Well, they seem happy and we didn't do anything deliberate to them.
Something from the pyramid cavern definitely affected us, and seems to
affect others who receive metal objects we've worn. I think Carla
Slied and Hal O'Graff were affected by the earrings we traded with
them. Come to think of it, Priscilla Strate borrowed a metal pen from
me at Tress & Less. Dr. Damihnd, Ada, Robin, and Bonnie were directly
affected by their experiences in the cavern."

"But Doug, the Pearsons and Strands haven't been affected by using
silverware or other objects we've touched. I don't think handing
coins to people affects them either, or we'd have heard about it,"
Lisa pointed out.

"Maybe we didn't have enough contact with the silverware or coins to
pass on the contamination, or spell, or whatever it is. An earring
we've worn for days is different from a quarter sitting in a pocket or
purse," I noted.

Lisa turned off the lights and the outside door locked behind us. We
were halfway back to my apartment before we realized we'd forgotten
our clothes, too. Furthermore, the keys to the salon were back in
Lisa's apartment. The parking lot at Fit & Trim was fairly secluded
but the lot at my apartment was well lit. There was nothing to do but
saunter from the car to my door like everything was perfectly normal.
We passed two teen-age girls who giggled and we also noticed several
front drapes flapping. People are strange.

Chapter 45. Career Moves Wednesday, Week 4

Wednesday morning started with the normal routine of shower, makeup,
jewelry. Even though Lisa would be meeting Eric Tower, my face would
be covered and Lisa didn't need to shave it. We had a quick breakfast
and searched for clothes.

My fashion sense at that time was dominated by mixed feelings.
Obviously, Lisa's body wouldn't look right wearing men's clothing.
Feminine equivalents were available for most men's items, but baggy
blue jeans, full-cut pants, and shirts had never been her style. I
wanted both of us to look our best, and that surely didn't involve
mutual cross-dressing. Lisa always had it and flaunted it, and she
wanted me to do the same. Even so, the more feminine and attractive I
made Lisa's body appear, the more bizarre I felt. Lisa put on a T-
shirt, a boring pair of my old cotton pants, and penny loafers. Since
we hadn't moved any of Lisa's clothes to my apartment yet, I wore one
of my old dress shirts.

At Lisa's apartment I changed into a T-back exercise bikini, ankle
socks, and aerobics shoes. Lisa commented that she used to wear lycra
shorts under the briefs, but I didn't want anything binding and just
put the shorts and Lisa's purse in a gym bag. Lisa donned a pair of
cutoffs and a muscle shirt. Our hair was starting to grow back a
little but I would have preferred to wear a hat. Unfortunately, Lisa
never bought them.

I tried to tell Lisa everything I could about the MicroMind project in
case Eric asked questions. I had already brought and laid out the
clothes she was to wear, right down to the tie tack and socks. Lisa
promised to do her best and, if she couldn't answer a question, to
tell Eric she'd get back later with the answer. Lisa would drop me
off at Fit & Trim, pack up more old clothes, and buy some new ones.
In the afternoon she would pick up the plaster cast from Packey Slappe
and meet with Eric.

Mera was just opening the salon as we arrived. She was wearing a
bikini top and a pair of pink nylon Capri tights just transparent
enough to show the cracks in her pussy and butt. Lisa smiled and
waved at Mera as I entered the salon behind her. A few minutes later,
Tina Tates arrived in a transparent white body suit. She'd decorated
herself with five earrings on each side and five nose rings. She also
wore five necklaces and five rings on each hand. Five five-pointed
stars were tattooed evenly spaced between her shoulder and elbow.

Mera and Tina were both impressed by Lisa's tattoos and piercings, and
resolved to get more themselves. It seemed to me this would drive
away business, but they assured me the opposite was true. We went
over the day's schedule and decided I should start with an aerobics
class then alternate with locker room. Locker room duty consisted of
massaging sore muscles and making sure that all the supplies were
stocked up.

The first aerobics class was unbelievable. I never saw so many
tattooed ladies in my life. Of twenty women, seventeen were tattooed
with three or more images. None of the seventeen had hair longer than
half an inch. Besides countless earrings, they all had body piercings
of one sort or another. The three plain women had missed Monday's
class.

Tina started out with stretching exercises. After five minutes the
class was fully limbered up and one woman asked if she could remove
her leotard. Tina asked for a show of hands favoring clothing not
required and the issue was approved seventeen to three. Despite being
in Lisa's body, the sight of seventeen nude decorated women writhing
and twisting for forty-five minutes kept me constantly aroused. Of
course, Tina and I were nude as well. I kept having to towel off, and
not just because of sweat. The three plain women kept together and
mumbled among themselves.

Only two women picked up their clothes at the end of class, both
explaining they also took classes at another salon. Several others
examined Lisa's tattoos and piercings, expressing envy and admiration.
Most of them stayed on for another hour of exercise in the equipment
room, including the three plain women. I stayed with Tina for the
next aerobics class, a weekly session. None of the women were
decorated so Tina and I had to stay dressed. Also, Tina found me a
Fit & Trim cycling hat to wear.

To my surprise, two hours of aerobics wasn't tiring at all. I
marveled at Lisa's body, which just kept going for me. I suppose it's
an attribute in her genes, but I could see it as a goal most of the
students aspired to. It sure kept the customers coming in.

Next, I spent an hour in the locker room. Mostly I saw the women from
the first class who were now finished in the equipment room. The
three plain women kept to themselves in a back corner, but the others
walked about naturally and discussed their jewelers and tattoo
artists. There was a lineup at the makeup tables as they applied some
of the most extreme colors and patterns I could imagine. Finally,
they put on mass quantities of necklaces, bracelets, and rings, donned
a few scraps of clothing, and headed out for the day.

By that time I had spent three hours surrounded by attractive women,
most of whom were nude. Spending an hour in a women's health club
locker room might seem like a voyeur's paradise, but it wasn't a
sexual situation. Despite thinking of myself as a man temporarily in
a female body, I watched how the women acted and cared for themselves,
hoping to pick up habits that could be useful to me.

Lisa's tits were smaller than average; being firm, high, and well-
rounded made them seem larger than they actually were. Nevertheless,
I hated the way they flopped around during exercise. It was certainly
more distracting than letting my cock and balls flop around would have
been. I decided this was the reason most of the women exercised
smoothly and gracefully rather than with brute force.

The three women who missed Monday's class were still wearing their
leotards and chatting in the corner. I was picking up towels and
closing lockers when one of them called me over.

"Lisa, what's it like to decorate your body like that?" she asked.

I decided not to correct her about my identity. "Well, it wasn't
really something I thought about and decided to do. My fiancee and I
sort of went nutso on our vacation; it was just impulsive. One thing
led to another, so to speak. I'm sorry, but I don't remember your
names."

"Oh, I'm Lori. This is my cousin Beryl and this is my other cousin
Beryl. Lori Woodsman. We run a diner here in Stratford Estates. Are
the piercings and tattoos painful?"

It was deja vu again, like some sort of situation comedy. "After a
while, they're not, Lori. Of course, the initial piercing is painful
and the tattoo needle hurts. People find a pace they can deal with.
No pain, no gain."

"I say, let's do it," said one of the Beryls. "There are three ways
to start; haircut, tattoo, and piercing. Which is first?" They each
flipped a coin and let the odd woman choose; this turned out to be the
other Beryl, who had waist length blonde hair. She opted for the
haircuts. The women quickly showered, put on about half the clothes
they came with, and left chatting about the barber shop where another
student got her Mohawk.

The same pattern continued all day. Women on their second or third
visit of the week were decorated, and the others weren't. There was
one undecorated woman who'd visited Monday but not used the equipment
room. Here was the key to the puzzle, I realized. By having sex and
sweating in the equipment room, Mera and Waylon had somehow
contaminated the metal equipment. The customers were affected as they
worked out. I pulled Mera aside and tried to explain this to her, but
she wasn't about to close the salon because of my half-baked theory.
Finally, there was a lull between three and five in the afternoon,
which was too late for housewives and too early for career women. I
tried explaining the situation again to Mera and Tina but they still
weren't sympathetic.

My theory definitely needed outside verification. Claude Storm didn't
have a telephone. I got Dr. Bohnes's number from directory
assistance, but it was Wednesday and of course his office was closed.
The college switchboard put me through to Dr. Damihnd's office but I
got his answering machine and had to leave a message. Neither Spike
nor Pokey were at Piercing Scream, but the clerk told me there had
been no unusual increase in business. Finally, I called Tress & Less
and told Imi Yamakuti I needed to speak with Smooth.

"Doug, how nice of you to call! I was just thinking about you
yesterday. We spent a day in Napa Valley and my shorts gave me tan
lines; I've been sunning myself every day to look natural again.
What's up?"

I tried to visualize Smooth's pussy exposed to the sun and failed. My
curiosity about it was becoming an obsession. "Smooth, I'm starting
to suspect there's some sort of contamination or spell that Lisa and I
are spreading. It causes people to cut off their hair, get tattoos,
pierce themselves, and wear as little as possible. Have you noticed
an increase in those behaviors recently?"

"Doug, people come to Essence Alley just to do those things. This
isn't Sears, you know."

She had me. "Well, how's business lately?" I asked.

"Pretty normal for this time of year. Oh, your invention is working
out fabulously! Clipper is over at Fulton's Follicle helping to
install permanent equipment. They can't handle all the customers who
are showing up. Zach is talking about moving to a larger store."

"That's hard to believe, Smooth. Where are they coming from?" I
asked.

"I've been telling people for years they'd be better off without hair,
and no one believed me. Doug, can you imagine how much time hairy
people spend shaving? Legs, armpits, chests, backs, beards,
everywhere! Zach is offering a $1500 program to become hairless from
the nose down and he's getting swamped! You should talk to Bonnie;
she and Robin have the incorporation papers ready to go. I think
you're going to be a wealthy man, Doug."

Two groups of women were entering the salon; a decorated bunch from a
Monday-Wednesday-Friday class and a weekly equipment class. Each
group looked at the other as if they were space aliens. I gave Smooth
the number at Fit & Trim and she agreed to ask Bonnie to call.

Like all the other repeat classes, the aerobics group quickly voted to
be nude. I overhead several women saying their husbands disapproved
of the new haircuts and decorations. Apparently, some of the men had
noticed a pattern and were preparing to file a complaint against Fit &
Trim. Mera was surprised when I told her about the problem, but she
just asked which women were involved and said she would handle it. I
noticed her talking with the same women as they left the salon.

After the eight o'clock class I asked Mera what she'd told the women
with upset husbands.

"Oh, I decided to test your theory, Doug. You should be pleased,"
Mera explained.

"What exactly did you tell them?" I insisted.

"I told them to buy their husbands a new watch with a metal band, but
to wear it themselves for a day before giving it to them. We'll see
if that eliminates their objections," Mera said.

"Mera, we'll end up in court or worse," I objected.

"Who's going to believe it? Besides, if it comes to that, we'll buy
the judge a watch," she said.

I spent the last hour in the locker room. Actually, it was easier to
lead aerobics because the groups were either decorated or not. In the
locker room, everyone was mixed and the plain women viewed the
decorated ones with shock and suspicion. I think the plain women
suspected some force was at work, but of course they didn't understand
it.

Lisa and Waylon showed up at ten o'clock. There was a tremendous pile
of abandoned clothing in one corner of the locker room; over a hundred
exercise suits plus assorted underwear and even some blouses and
skirts. I told Lisa and Waylon about my theory but they just filed it
for future reference and didn't see any reason to modify our actions.
Finally, I asked Lisa how the meeting with Eric Tower went.

"Oh, Doug, it went perfectly except that I nearly died inside that
plaster cast and business suit. Eric had your computer all packed up
and he had someone put it in the trunk. He bought you a modem, a fax
machine, and a personal copier too. Someone will be out to install a
second phone line tomorrow. I ate it all up like some kind of hot
dog," Lisa explained.

"Am I supposed to work from home?" I asked.

"Eric doesn't expect forty hours a week or anything, but he wants to
keep in touch about certain things. You're still on the payroll,
after all. Actually, using the fax and modem eliminates the problem
of me having to do your talking. Oh, you're promoted to project
administrator in charge of the MicroMind account and Eric is
suggesting you start a branch office in San Francisco. Quixotic
Designs will pay moving expenses. I told him you'd think about it.
What do you say?"

By this time, Lisa and Waylon were each on a weight bench and Mera and
I began exercising as we had the night before. I hadn't been paying
full attention to the conversation, but Lisa's question suddenly
interrupted me. "It's a great opportunity. Would you join me in San
Francisco?" I asked.

"Doug, you should know me better than that. I'd cum with you
anywhere." I felt the pressure of my cock stiffening against Lisa's
pussy lips, rolled out the condom, and lowered her body onto mine.
Lisa looked over at Mera, who was indisposed for twenty seconds.

"Mera, what do you think of a Fit & Trim branch in San Francisco?"
Lisa asked.

"Sounds good to me but I'd have to consult my tax advisor," she
replied.

"You'd have to reorganize as an interstate corporation, but that's no
big deal," Waylon explained. "By the way, your accountant has been
overpaying your taxes for the past four years. I noticed it during
yesterday's audit. The government owes Fit & Trim Salon about
$250,000."

That settled it. Lisa and I would move to San Francisco. She would
start Fit & Trim West, hopefully located in Essence Alley and serving
both men and women. I would be San Francisco branch manager for
Quixotic Designs and help start the hair removal company. I was so
excited that Lisa's pussy twitched and my cock exploded. Oh well, I
thought, I'd live to cum another day.

Chapter 46. Back to the Future Thursday, Week 4

We broke our leases Thursday morning and Lisa spent the rest of the
day packing her apartment. I instructed two aerobics classes with
just a little help from Tina. Between classes I booked two seats on a
Saturday morning flight to San Francisco, with a return late Tuesday.
I called the movers and arranged an inventory meeting Wednesday
morning and pickup Friday afternoon.

Next, I called Bonnie to tell her we'd be staying at The Open Palms
and to ask her to set up an incorporation meeting Sunday afternoon or
Monday morning. The rest of our time would be spent looking for an
apartment. Like Smooth the day before, Bonnie described a frantic
scene at Fulton's Follicle. Already, they were getting requests for
equipment and franchises. She urged me to return to San Francisco to
discuss the structure of the new company, which was already taking in
commissions of $5,000 a day from Zach Fulton. I remembered the two
unrestricted round-trip tickets from the last trip and promised we'd
fly out for the weekend.

Bonnie listened attentively as I described our plans for relocating to
San Francisco. As it turned out, Essence Alley was actually a
courtyard set into the side of an old two-story factory. There were
only a few empty storefronts left on the first floor, but the second
floor was a huge open area. Bonnie was sure the second floor could be
remodeled into a fitness salon and health club, with just a membership
counter and stairway entrance on the ground floor. In addition, the
original factory entrance opened onto the street behind Essence Alley.
Bonnie said it was currently boarded up but suggested I look into the
possibility of using that entrance for Quixotic Designs Western Office
and for the hair removal business.

Finally I called Dr. Bohnes's office and spoke with Wanda. As luck
would have it, the Bohnes were planning to attend a medical conference
in San Jose in ten days. Robin and Bonnie wanted to see the doctor
also and arranged for the Bohnes to stay in the guest house at the
estate.

About three o'clock, Smooth called and asked if they'd offended us in
some way. I assured her this was not the case, and Smooth asked why
we were staying in a hotel and rushing to find an apartment. In the
end, she insisted we stay in the guest house for the weekend and then
for as long as we needed. She mentioned that the Bohnes would be
arriving a week from Wednesday and hoped we didn't mind sharing the
living room and kitchen with Saul and Wanda. I accepted her
invitation.

Altogether, I did six aerobics classes that day plus four hours in the
locker room and two on equipment. About half the women walked in nude
and the rest just wore a cover-up or T-shirt until they entered.
Tattoos, piercings, buzzed hair, and extreme makeup were everywhere.
Even the mailman and the vending machine guy were heavily decorated
because Mera had hired a locksmith to replace the front door handle
with a chin-up bar from the equipment room. Of course, the locksmith
had been affected too.

Several times, I noticed Mera trading jewelry with the other women.
She had a theory that wearing pieces contaminated by many different
people would intensify the effect.

I explained everything to Lisa that night as we began using the weight
bench. She still wanted to spend time with her mother and suggested
we pass through Houston on the final trip to San Francisco. Although
she was unable to face her parents before, she'd spoken to them by
phone and was now ready to see them in person.

Waylon and Lisa showed up as usual just after ten. To my surprise, so
did Marty Hong, Tina's boyfriend. Mera, Tina, and I had been
comfortably nude all day. Waylon and Lisa arrived wearing only tight
little shorts, which they quickly kicked into the corner. Marty went
into the locker room to remove his sport shirt, slacks, and T-shirt,
then sheepishly returned wearing a pair of cotton boxer shorts. Mera
and I were already rocking on Waylon and Lisa. Tina was standing at
the end of the third weight bench but Marty was frozen.

"Marty, I don't want to get up. Come here so I can talk to you," said
Mera, still rocking on Waylon. When Marty got within reach, she
grabbed his waistband and pulled down his shorts. I began to
understand what Tina saw in him; despite being short and homey, he had
one of the biggest cocks I'd ever seen. He was extremely embarrassed
at having his pants off but Mera grabbed him by the cock and pulled
him closer. Still rocking on Waylon, she hugged Marty by the butt,
continued stroking his cock, and placed the side of her head against
his stomach. Tina fingered herself to pass the time and watched
everything with interest.

After just a few minutes, Marty lost his embarrassment. With his huge
cock pointing straight out in front, he casually walked over to the
weight bench and pulled Tina onto him. I don't know how Tina managed
to sit all the way onto his cock, but she did. Marty began pulling at
his hair and examining his bare arms.

"Mera, you may have something there. Don't you feel guilty, though?"
I asked.

"About what?" asked Marty. "Tina, how about lending me some earrings,
then let's see if there's a barber shop open at this hour." When they
left, he forgot his clothes.

Chapter 48. The Company of Friends Friday, Week 4

Friday morning Lisa drove to my apartment and we took a cab to the
airport. The day was warm so I just wore cotton short shorts, a black
lace bra, and one-inch heels. Lisa kept insisting I practice wearing
high heels but I didn't understand why I had to stumble through the
airport in them. I wore a basic mass of earrings, necklaces, rings,
and bracelets, plus two chains that hung out the bottom of the shorts.
My makeup was Kelly green lipstick, yellow eye shadow with green trim,
purple blush and gold nail polish. Lisa wore a cropped muscle shirt,
cutoffs with too large a waist and too small a butt, and sandals. Her
makeup matched mine.

The flight to San Francisco was mundane. One stewardess kept staring
at Lisa, who responded by letting my shirt get out of place and riding
up the shorts. Just as the stewardess was handing the window
passenger a glass of ice, Lisa reached inside the cutoffs to adjust my
cock. Of course, the stewardess dropped the ice down Lisa's shorts,
Lisa stood up and handed them to the stewardess, and we got another
pair of free unrestricted round trip tickets.

Hank was waiting for us at the gate. We'd brought very few clothes
and hadn't bothered to check our gym bags. When we arrived at the
estate, Smooth and Marble were sitting by the pool. We chatted for
about an hour, then Bonnie called and asked to meet me in the evening.
I agreed and she promised to be at the estate by seven o'clock.

Shortly after dinner Bonnie, Robin, and Spike drove up to Spike's
front door. I think they were driving nude in Bonnie's convertible,
but in any event they had nothing on when they found us on the patio.
Spike suggested we all meet in his dining room. Smooth stayed behind,
seated with her legs crossed as she had been since before dinner. My
curiosity was growing into a mania.

Pearson's house was decorated everywhere with masks, statues,
photographs, and pointed weapons; it looked like a "Piercing Around
The Word" exhibit from Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum. There were
spears, swords, hatchets, lip plugs, neck rings, ear weights, jewelry
of all kinds, and more photographs than National Geographic. In the
hallway were several bookcases full of photo essays, research papers,
and scholarly books from all over the world. The whole place was
dimly lighted by small recessed spotlights.

The dining room was long and narrow with a high ceiling. Tribal
masks and spears hung around the upper part of the walls. African
print drapes graced tall windows along one wall; a mural opposite
depicted naked African young people being pierced and marked as they
entered adulthood. The chairs were intricately carved, high backed,
and tipped with spear heads. The table top was a large sheet of clear
glass supported by ironwork replicas of thorn bushes. Cynthia was at
one end of the table placing a desk blotter in front of each chair.

Bonnie sat at the head of the table. She now had three concentric
rings in each nipple and five rings staggered along her hairless pussy
lips. Three large navel rings were arranged in a Y; the lower ring
supported a six inch chain ending in a diamond pendant. Her ears were
barely visible under all the earrings and two heavy pendants stretched
out the lobes. She had a cluster of cheek studs and, embedded in her
forehead, a ruby and two emeralds. She wore violet lipstick outlined
in gold, green metallic eye shadow, yellow mascara, and peacock blue
eyeliner.

Of course, the tattooed Zeus was still hurling lightning bolts at her
cleavage. A nude and very well-hung Thor actively graced her other
shoulder. On her back, the scene of Hercules and the sirens had been
outlined but not yet colored in. Wild flowers were tattooed on her
ankles and calves as if she were standing in a field of them.

Bonnie's hands were covered by an elaborate network of rings,
bracelets, plates, and chains. Around her neck were at least ten
necklaces of various lengths and styles. As she sat, I noticed a
metal cuff on each ankle. Her watch was on the right cuff and she
checked the time by raising it to her face. "It's ten minutes after
seven, people. Let's get down to business!" she urged, her pink inner
lips fully on display.

Cynthia and Robin sat to Bonnie's right. Spike and I took the left.

"I'm ready, let's go," said Robin. He seemed to have several cock
rings, but it was hard to count because he was already seated. He was
wearing shin guards, wrist cuffs, and shoulder armor, all in studded
black leather. There was a one-inch ring embedded in each nipple and
another in his belly button; a chain connected these in the shape of a
V. He still had the earrings and the rod piercing the tip of his
nose, but had added three lip rings and four in his nose. He wore
deep red lipstick and eye makeup in a blue and orange scheme. The
tattoo of Justice banishing the castrated demon was nearly finished.

Incredibly, I felt upstaged and resolved to have more work done the
next day. "How's business?" I asked Bonnie.

"Doug, we've struck gold. Zach Fulton has been processing four
customers an hour for ten hours a day. Each customer pays $1500 for
three full-body treatments; that's $60,000 a day in revenues. He's
turning away at least five times that business and has a five month
backlog of appointments. Our commission is fifteen percent, plus
another fifteen percent for equipment rental. Robin has obtained a
ruling that the process is cosmetic, not surgical. That means we can
operate like a tattoo parlor or a tanning salon and avoid the
licensing required to operate something like a liposuction clinic."

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"Doug, this is your invention," said Spike. "We want to incorporate
with you as President and Chairman of the Board. One thousand shares
of stock will be issued at $100 a share. You will contribute your
patent and receive forty percent of the stock in payment. Bonnie and
I will buy twenty-five percent each; Robin and Cynthia will buy five
percent each. That will place five people on the Board of Directors.
For the first five years, no one may sell stock to any person who
would thereby gain a controlling interest."

"I don't have a patent yet," I protested.

"It's applied for," countered Robin.

"What about Zach Fulton?" Lisa wanted to know.

"He's making so much money that he just wants the first franchise,
covering the entire Bay Area. Any objections?"

"No, that'll be fine. How about calling it Hairless Inc.?" I
suggested.

"That sounds like a tattoo parlor. We were thinking of Zap
Enterprises or Lightning Smooth," said Spike.

"I prefer Cosmetic Technologies, just to avoid the image and possible
licensing problems of medical equipment," urged Robin.

"How about CosmaTech?" suggested Lisa.

After some additional discussion, CosmaTech won out. Robin opened his
briefcase and handed a floppy disk to Cynthia, who then disappeared
into Spike's study. Ten minutes later she reappeared with the
corporate charter, bylaws, and incorporation papers. Cynthia also
passed around the required bank forms. At that instant, CosmaTech was
formed and I was President of a new corporation. Everyone adjourned
to poolside for Champaign.

While everyone chatted I managed to get a private moment with Cynthia
and asked her about remodelers and real estate agents. I needed to
get quotations on remodeling the second floor of Essence Alley into
Quixotic Designs Western Branch and CosmaTech headquarters, plus I
wanted to look at other properties for comparison. Lisa had to do the
same for Fit & Trim West. Cynthia had no trouble recommending an
office architect and a leasing agent but said she would have to make
some calls on Monday to locate a health club contractor.

Once the celebration broke up, Lisa and I returned to the guest house
and stripped off our makeup and jewelry. We were tired from traveling
so, after a soak in the hot tub, we went straight to bed and slept.

Chapter 49. Space Exploration Saturday, Week 4

We woke early Saturday morning and decided to run some laps around the
estate. Getting ready was simple; we just put on ankle socks and
running shoes then headed our the door. One lap around the inside
drive seemed to be about a third of a mile; we did ten laps in twenty
minutes then kept running straight into the pool. It was chilly but
invigorating. After drying ourselves with towels from the cabana we
headed directly to the breakfast table.

Spike and Pokey were discussing jewelry with Marble. Some of Marble's
friends had pierced ears and now she wanted some jewelry for herself.
Pokey was trying, without much success, to persuade Marble to wait.
Lisa and I tried to support Pokey's position but I guess none of us
practiced what we preached.

Cynthia was collecting our dirty clothes and making the bed when we
returned to the guest house. She gave us the office architect's
number and said he was free to meet us that morning. I called and
made a ten o'clock appointment to meet him at Piercing Scream.

Lisa and I dressed conservatively. She put on some green skin shorts,
a yellow ribbed tank top, black high-tops, simple orange and chocolate
makeup, and no chains except necklaces. I wore a white backless crop
top, denim miniskirt, red flats, blue lipstick, and red eye shadow.
The skirt looked a little strange because I was letting the hair on
Lisa's legs grow out, but there was nothing else to be done if I
wanted it permanently removed. Although I knew Lisa's body looked
great in a short shirt, mentally, I would have been more comfortable
in shorts.

Smooth gave us a ride to Essence Alley. She was wearing a short
Japanese kimono, baggy silk lounging shorts, and low heel sandals. As
we rode into the city, Smooth remarked that we hadn't seen much of
each either lately and suggested we meet at one o'clock for lunch.

There was an hour to kill before the office architect arrived, and we
spent it looking through photo books at Piercing Scream. There were
people with ear lobes weighted to their shoulders, lips stretched
totally out of shape, and faces pierced with anything you can imagine.
More interesting were rows of pierced rings arranged along flat areas
of the face, arms, chest, stomach, and other areas. One black woman
had a triangle of gold rings arranged on each breast; it almost looked
as if she had a bikini top on. Another woman had three D-rings
imbedded in each breast so she could attach cloth triangles and
achieve a truly strapless bikini top.

John Q. Bickle, the office architect, arrived exactly on-time. He
didn't guess me for the client but adjusted fairly quickly and told us
to call him Qubie. I described the type of business Quixotic and
CosmaTech were in, and estimated permanent staff at five for Quixotic
and eight for CosmaTech. In addition, Quixotic would have up to five
visiting engineers and CosmaTech would need a research lab with room
to grow. Spike gave me the key to the second floor and we walked
through the area several times. The area was quite open with the
exception of the front entrance and an old freight elevator. Qubie
suggested that I build two offices for myself with a connecting door,
and that the two businesses share common areas like reception and
lavatories. I mentioned that Lisa's fitness salon might be located in
another part of the second floor and Qubie offered to coordinate his
plans with Lisa's so her office could connect to mine. He estimated
total remodeling cost at $250,000 for each of the two businesses,
including private parking. After Qubie left, Lisa and I walked
through the second floor again and began sketching possible floor
plans for Fit & Trim.

At five to one we headed for Tress & Less to meet Smooth. She was
just finishing a cute little page-boy cut with bangs. Her customer
was a middle-aged man wearing a white blouse, pleated skirt, bobby
socks and buckle shoes. His unshaved beard and hairy arms and legs
seemed totally out of place. Clipper was talking with Priscilla
Strate, who had come in for a trim. She was wearing a lavender teddy,
black opaque pantyhose, and white patent pumps.

"Priscilla, how's it going?" I asked her.

"Oh, Rhenda Limou, isn't it? And Diggie Pitt?" she replied.

"Close. This is Lisa Kahr and I'm Doug Trents. We've been through
some changes, lately," I explained. "We met a few times here at
Essence Alley, and you helped Eddy Gismeau do some research for me at
the library."

"Oh yes, now I remember. You invented that hair removal system. No,
it was him," Priscilla recalled, pointing at Lisa. Smooth was done
with her customer and Priscilla called out, "Sid, heel!" The customer
immediately stood one step behind Priscilla and to her left.

"Deb Trents, Greaser Kahr, this is Sid Missouf, my boss at the
library. Sid, say hello," said Priscilla.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Kahr. Good afternoon, Mrs. Trents," intoned Sid
in a high-pitched, sing-song voice.

"Sid, you've forgotten your purse again. How are you going to buy us
all lunch?" Priscilla asked assertively.

Sid stood with his knees together until Priscilla gave him a shove
toward Clipper, who was holding out a small patent-leather shoulder
purse. Sid grabbed the purse by its straps and resumed his position
behind Priscilla.

"Sid, wear that purse on your shoulder like it's supposed to be!"
scolded Priscilla. I mentioned that we had a lunch date with Smooth,
but Priscilla said Sid would be glad to pay for everyone. Sid
whimpered and his eyes watered, but Priscilla led the way to Chain
Ring Bouquet.

Havka was our waitress, as usual. I sat facing Smooth, with Lisa on
my right and Priscilla and Sid on my left. The special of the day was
a grilled turkey breast sandwich on sourdough. Everyone but Sid had
the special and a glass of Chablis; Priscilla ordered him a jelly
sandwich and chocolate milk.

Smooth said business had been normal at all the shops in Essence
Alley, with the exception of Fulton's Follicle. Priscilla agreed
there had been no city-wide trend toward tattoos and piercing; just
the few cases we already knew about. Smooth kicked off her right
shoe, set her foot on the edge of her chair, and rested her hands and
chin on her knee. When Havka brought our sandwiches, Smooth ate with
her left hand and rested her right forearm on her elevated knee.
Innocently, Sid stared down the baggy leg of her shorts and then
whispered to Priscilla, "How come Mrs. Strand isn't wearing her
underpants?"

"Are you still working at the library, Priscilla?" I asked.

"Yes, I am for now. The pay isn't spit, right Sid? I'd like to find
a private research job."

"Well, keep in touch. I may be hiring a medical research assistant in
the next few weeks," I advised her.

"That would be great Deb, I mean Doug. I just can't keep you two
folks straight today. Normally, I meet a person and recognize them
perfectly forever. I hope my mind isn't turning to mush."

"Lisa and I haven't been ourselves lately, Priscilla. It's us, not
you. I'll explain it some time," said Lisa.

"How about this evening?" Priscilla asked. "Sid's wife and his
secretary are coming over to my place; we can make a little party out
of it."

"You should go," said Smooth. "The rest of us will be working late
anyway. Take my car; I'll get a ride home somehow."

Priscilla told Sid to get a piece of paper from his purse and then
wrote out her address. "Dinner will be at seven; see you there! You
don't need to dress up. We have to go now; Sid needs a ballet tutu,"
she said, standing. On their way out, Sid paid the cashier from a
mashed-up wad of bills at the bottom of his purse.

"Are you really thinking of hiring her?" Lisa asked.

"Well, CosmaTech will need a receptionist, a sales manager, a
traveling sales rep, and a billing clerk; that's for sure. I'll need
an operations manager to make sure the franchises are operating
smoothly, so to speak. In addition, we need to engineer a production
version of the mass electrolysis system and keep looking for new
products. I figure on hiring an engineer and a research fellow, but
they'll need a research assistant. Priscilla has a good track record
so far. Why not?" I explained.

"All she ever wears is lingerie," Lisa pointed out.

"I planned on a flexible dress code," I replied.

"Do you have something to wear tonight?" Smooth asked.

"We were going to look for some necklaces this afternoon, then maybe
visit Skin Deep. We can always get our makeup fixed at About Face.
Why?" Lisa replied.

"Actually, I was thinking about clothing. Clipper and I keep a few
things in the back closet," Smooth explained.

"Priscilla said not to dress up," Lisa reminded her.

After lunch Lisa and I met briefly with Zach Fulton, hoping our hair
was long enough to be removed. Zach said we needed another week's
growth and scheduled us a week from Wednesday by cancelling two other
appointments.

We bought some manacles and metal collars from Pokey, then left
Essence Alley to check out some other stores in the neighborhood. At
a motorcycle shop we found metal skullcaps consisting of six chains
connected at the top like spokes and joined to a chain headband at the
bottom. Lisa bought some soft leather shoes with pointed toes and
rubber heels. For me, she insisted on a pair of studded high-heel
lace-up ankle boots. We each bought a purse, too.

Drew Picshire had openings at Skin Deep so we each got three hours of
minor work done, mostly additional detail on our dragons. At About
Face, we paged through the sample books until we found something new
we both liked. The lipstick was silver outlined in black extending
off to each side and upward to the nose. Black and white eye shadow
was applied all around the eyes in a zebra pattern outlined in deep
red. The eyeliner and mascara were the same deep red, but the blush
was metallic green. The consultant recommended zebra acrylic nails in
various colors, such as black and white, red and white, and black and
green. The people at Talon Scout were glad to be of help; Lisa
insisted on the longest size.

I felt like Edward Scissorhands with the acrylic nails on, and like a
stilt walker in the high heels. We found Priscilla's apartment
quickly but had to circle for twenty minutes before finding a parking
space five blocks away. I had trouble walking up and down the steep
streets and quite a few people stared as we passed. I guess they
didn't realize how foolish they looked.

Priscilla answered the door wearing a housecoat and no makeup or
jewelry. I lifted Lisa's leg to check her ankle watch: it was six
forty-five and dinner was supposed to be at seven. Priscilla smiled
sympathetically and offered us a seat on the sofa. It turned out that
"dinner at seven" meant "arrive at eight" and "eat at nine".

Priscilla's apartment was in an old, Victorian building of the type
for which San Francisco is famous. The interior was mixed in style,
with classic woodwork and door openings but modern chrome, glass, and
plush furniture. Anyone would have guessed the occupant was a person
in transition.

After a few minutes Priscilla asked if we'd like to help dress Sid.
She'd already shaved his cock and balls, the only part of his body she
allowed to be hair-free. Lisa combed out his hair and put in
barrettes as I helped him into cotton panties and a training bra. He
got so excited about the bra that he wet his panties and Lisa had to
wash him and get another pair. We continued by slipping on a flowered
sleeveless T-shirt, two petticoats, a puffed-sleeve blouse, a frilly
yellow dress, ruffled ankle socks, and black patent leather shoes. He
giggled about the shoes.

Priscilla was alternating between the kitchen and the bathroom, trying
to finish both dinner and her makeup. The housecoat was long gone,
and I could see her pussy was as hairless as the day we first
depilatated it.

Of course, she still had the centaur on her shoulder, the rose on her
right thigh, and the nude warrior climbing her left thigh. That much
had been obvious at lunch. The warrior on her thigh has found his
head. On her back she had added a full-length nude Medusa. The head
was between Priscilla's shoulder blades and the feet were standing on
her ass cheeks. Suffice to say that Medusa's head wasn't the only
place where snake heads had replaced hair. The Medusa figure was
completely inked in but a swarm of snakes was still just outlined on
her breasts.

Priscilla was just putting on a dozen pair of earrings, connecting
chains to her nose rings, and selecting studs for her cheeks when the
doorbell rang. I answered the door despite having chucked Lisa's
miniskirt while dressing Sid.

Sid's secretary and wife had arrived. Somehow, I expected them both
to be women. In fact, Sid's secretary turned out to be a huge black
guy, six foot eight at least, whose name was Mbuno Bwanaba. He wore
nothing but sandals and a white loincloth wrapped between his legs and
around his waist. Mbuno wasn't decorated but Sid's wife, Sue, sure
was. Her head was completely buzzed except for five jagged lightning
bolts pointed at her eyes, ears, and the back of her neck. Somehow,
her eyebrows had been trimmed into lightning bolts as well. Her lips
and eyes were made up in yellow with black outlines, and she was
heavily pierced in her ears, nose, nipples, and pussy. I think she
had a CosmaTech job from the neck down, amply displayed by her
complete lack of clothing.

Mbuno and Sid sat on the floor in a back corner of the living room.
Sue and Priscilla sat on a love seat and Lisa and I took the couch,
which was at right angles near the coffee table. Priscilla helped Sue
feel at home by massaging her thigh. Priscilla did the introductions
and got our names right.

"So, what brings you two to San Francisco?" Sue asked.

"I've been transferred from Chicago. Also, I'm starting a new
business here," I said.

"That's nice, Deb. Sid and I lived in New York for three years but I
couldn't stand it. I told him so many times that he could find a way
to move to San Francisco, but did he do it? No! I had to start my
own sales company and earn the money myself. Does that seem right to
you? Then, when we get here, he takes a measly manager's job at the
public library. I mean, how wimpy can you get? If you set your
sights low, you'll never rise; that's what I say. I had to start
another company just to keep body and soul together." Sue paused a
minute to open her legs to Priscilla's hand.

"What kind of business..." Lisa started to ask.

"I hold sensitivity training sessions for men. They get in tune with
their bodies by being nude for a week. If they offend one of the
instructors, they get whipped with a riding crop. Let me tell you, by
the end of the week those guys are sensitive. My instructors are
really great, though. They treat all the men the same, even those who
try to touch and scratch. The leather uniforms cost me a fortune but
the wimps, I mean students, give it back to me double in tuition."

Priscilla was still intently rubbing Sue's pussy. Slowly, she turned
her head toward us and raised an eyebrow. "Shall we check on things
in the kitchen?" I asked Lisa.

"I'm sure everything is OK," said Priscilla as she stretched across
Sue's lap. Sue crawled toward Priscilla's feet, then turned toward us
and paused. Not wanting to offend our hosts, I lifted Lisa's legs
onto the couch and lay back. Priscilla shook her head and Sue traced
circles with her finger, so I stood and let Lisa get on the bottom.
Sue dropped her pussy onto Priscilla's face. Priscilla ate it up.

Lisa began eating her pussy as I started kissing my cock. Instantly,
Sue snapped her fingers and shook her head at me. I resumed attending
to my cock and Sue stopped me again. Lisa was still eating her pussy
but it seemed I was forbidden to return the favor. Lisa hadn't seen
everything that happened, so she kept stopping and we got nowhere. I
heard Sue and Priscilla cum several times then suddenly they were
standing over us with riding crops.

"It seems you two do not understand how proper sexual activity is
conducted. You there, the cuntless one on the bottom, get to work,"
Priscilla ordered, snapping her crop on my hip. Lisa began chewing
her pussy rapidly.

Every time Lisa seemed close to cumming, Priscilla cropped my hips,
thigh, or side. Every time I relaxed, Sue cropped Lisa's back or
butt. I wasn't enjoying the scene itself so much as the strangeness
of it. Lisa seemed intrigued as well. Finally Lisa's pussy shook and
Sue ordered me to get up. This left my cock pointing straight in the
air. Priscilla whipped her crop lightly around my stomach and thighs,
shouting, "down, boy, down," but if anything my cock got stiffer.
From the expression on my face, I could see that Lisa was confused but
also expectant. Finally, my cock erupted and sticky cum shot onto
Priscilla's sofa.

"You imbecile! Exploding weenies aren't allowed in my apartment; I'm
sure you understood that. Deb, you are responsible for the actions of
your captive. Clean that up," Priscilla demanded.

"Do you have some paper towels or a rag?" I asked.

"I'm not going to waste my cleaning supplies on something filthy like
that. Lick it up!" Priscilla ordered. Sue grabbed Lisa by my cock
and made her sit in the corner with Sid and Mbuno. I cleaned up
Priscilla's sofa the best I could.

"Mommy, Mbuno is wet," Sid called.

Sue immediately stood over Mbuno and demanded to know if his weenie
had exploded. Mbuno said he just had to pee and couldn't hold it.
Priscilla was finishing dinner so Sue took Mbuno in the bedroom to
change him. Lisa asked where the bathroom was but Priscilla answered
by tossing her a white wrapping like Mbuno had worn. Also, she asked
me to take Sid to the bathroom and make sure he tinkled; otherwise,
she explained, he would wet his panties during dinner.

Sid grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bathroom. Once there, he
stood facing away from the toilet and lifted his dress. Kneeling in
front of him, I pulled down his panties and held up his petticoats so
he wouldn't sit on them. When he sat down his cock rested on the
toilet seat, but fortunately I got it pointed into the bowl before he
started pissing. In the process, I poked him twice with an acrylic
nail.

"Sid, you need to point your cock into the bowl when you pee," I
scolded him.

"Mommy says I shouldn't touch my weenie," he replied. I pulled up his
panties, fixed his petticoats and dress, and led him back to the
living room.

Dinner was served. Priscilla sat at the head of the table, with Sue
to her left and me at her right. Lisa was seated at the far corner of
the table at Priscilla's right. Sid and Mbuno ate butter and baloney
sandwiches at a tiny table Priscilla set in the corner for them.

Priscilla had prepared an excellent crab meat salad for the appetizer,
followed by oysters on the half shell. The main course was diced
meat, pork I thought, with wild oats and rice. The wine was an
excellent white zinfandel. For dessert, Priscilla brought out an
intriguing pate' spread on miniature buns, served with Creme de Cacao.
I wasn't having too much trouble with the damn lip chain anymore but
the new acrylic nails got in the way terribly. Sue monopolized the
conversation.

"That was excellent. Can I have your recipe?" I asked Priscilla.

"Oh, sure, I can give you the recipe. I must warn you, the
ingredients are hard to find, so to speak," she replied. Priscilla
disappeared into the kitchen then emerged with two recipe cards. She
ran the cards through her desk copier and handed them to me. I
discovered I had just eaten sauteed goat testicles and hog penis
pate'.

Priscilla made the "children" clear the table then consented for me to
change Lisa's diaper. It was number two. Lisa was humiliated and I
was disgusted, but we both wondered what would happen next. We
decided to give it half an hour, just out of curiosity. I tossed
Lisa's diaper in the bucket and pinned on a new one.

In the dining room, Priscilla was siting on the edge of the table and
Sue was on the silverware cabinet. Sid and Mbuno were facing them, so
to speak, seated on three-legged stools that placed their mouths at
the perfect height for eating pussy. I refilled the three Creme de
Cacao glasses and set Lisa's butt on the table. Lisa found another
stool and took her place in front of me. I was overcome with deja vu
for a moment, then remembered the scene after hours at Fit & Trim.

"So Deb, how did you get into body decoration?" asked Priscilla.

"Uh, it's Doug. Perhaps I better explain the whole thing. Despite
what your eyes are telling you, I'm a man and Lisa is a woman. We had
sex in an ancient ceremonial chamber in New Mexico and our sex organs
got switched. Within a few days, we found ourselves doing outlandish
things to decorate our bodies. We tried to get our bodies
straightened out by having sex in the cavern a second time, but the
rest of our bodies got switched."

Sue and Priscilla stared at each other intently. "This is sickening.
No wonder I kept getting confused. Doug, if you're a man, you belong
on that stool. Lisa, if you're a woman, you belong on the table. Now
which is it?" Priscilla asked. I traded places with Lisa and began
sucking my cock.

"Priscilla, how did you get started on short haircuts?" Lisa asked.

"Well, I was driving back to the main library from my divorce hearing.
I got a flat tire and went into this hair stylist place to call the
motor club. The waiting room was lined with bound volumes and I
figured the one nearest the phone was the yellow pages. Of course it
wasn't a phone book at all; it was a catalog of revolting hair styles!
I had to call directory assistance and borrowed a pen from somebody so
I could write the phone number in my appointment book. About that
time, some of the short hair styles really began appealing to me. The
salon receptionist seemed happy with her super-short cut, so I tried
one of them. After that, one thing followed another and I found my
true self," Priscilla explained.

"This change that came over you; do you regret it? Would you go
back?" Lisa asked.

Just at that moment, Sid succeeded in bringing Priscilla to a violent
orgasm. She wiped her forehead, adjusted her sitting position, and
motioned for Sid to continue. "Since that haircut, I've never had so
much fun in my life. No, I'd never go back," said Priscilla.

"We have a theory that the compulsion can be spread," Lisa gasped,
just before cumming into her mouth. I swallowed hard.

"Oh, I know. Sue got herself decorated after Sid borrowed a letter
opener from me and brought it home for Sue to use in her classes. She
scratched herself with it and got her first haircut later the same
day. I got few library patrons interested by giving them 'Support
Your Local Library' pins that I wore inside my clothes for a while,"
Priscilla explained. Sue smiled knowingly.

"What about Sid and Mbuno?" I asked.

"A man's mouth is meant for sucking, not talking. Get to work, Doug.
However, I never give anything metal to a man. Who knows what they
might do with it?" Priscilla bristled.

By this time, Mbuno and Sid were both wet. I didn't feel like
changing them, and, it turned out, neither did Lisa. She told
Priscilla we had to leave and reminded me to get my purse. Both our
lipsticks were a mess but we'd had enough and just wanted to get out
of there. We fixed our makeup in the hallway, drove Smooth's car back
to the estate, peeled off our faces, and fell asleep.

Chapter 50. Back to Nature Sunday, Week 4

Sunday was refreshingly normal. We woke early, ran twelve laps, took
a swim, and had breakfast on the patio. I ordered an omelet and
country sausage, but regretted that decision as the new acrylic nails
got in the way of cutting it. Afterward we worked out with Hank for
an hour then relaxed in the hot tub.

I tried to call Smooth on the inside phone but got Shag instead. He
said Smooth had already left for work with Clipper, Marble was
spending the weekend with friends, and Shag's two best friends went
somewhere with their parents. I asked Shag if he'd like to show us
the sights and he readily agreed. Lisa thought it would be fun, too.

We were starting to apply our makeup when Shag arrived. He was
wearing a ragged leather loincloth, a bone vest, shoulder bag, and
moccasins. His hair was untangled but unbrushed, giving him a real
jungle appearance. He suggested a hike in the San Andreas mountains,
which I got okayed by calling Clipper at the shop. Lisa and I
finished our faces in brown, beige, and gold makeup, went easy on the
facial chains, and wore soft leather shorts, buckskin vests, and
running shoes.

The mountains were beautiful, full of tall trees, rocky trails, and
ocean views. We must have walked ten or fifteen miles and began to
feel downright primordial. Shag had obviously been out hiking before,
as he was careful of all the wildlife and pointed it out as we went
along.

On the way back, I used Smooth's car phone to tell Hank we were on our
way and that he should order dinner. When we arrived he had
hamburgers on the grill with a choice of dressings, buns, and salads.
After dinner we played tennis, me and Hank against Shag and Lisa, then
rinsed off in the pool. Lisa washed, dried, and combed Shag's hair,
then urged him to finish his homework. For a change, we had normal
sex alone in the bedroom, then stripped off our faces and drifted off
to sleep. All in all, it was a damn fine day.

Chapter 51. Permanent Fixtures Monday, Week 5

Monday morning we ran our laps, swam, ate breakfast, worked out with
Hank, and swam again, all before eight o'clock. Smooth gave me her
car keys and I drove the three of us down to Essence Alley. Lisa
already had appointments with a real estate agent in the morning and a
fitness center remodeler in the afternoon. For me, it was reversed;
office architect in the morning and rental agent later.

I hated the office architect the minute we met. She was a fussy
little woman wearing a tweed jacket, wool skirt, and practical shoes.
Her hair was in a bun and she wore plastic rimmed glasses with no
makeup. No doubt, her design would have worked but she didn't offer
the amenities and conveniences that Qubie had proposed. She seemed
more concerned about using expensive materials and increasing her
commission.

Lisa was finished looking at real estate by eleven o'clock, so we
strolled around the neighborhood looking for someplace new to eat
lunch. We bought some rings and leather pieces on impulse and passed
by several interesting Chinese restaurants and sushi bars.
Remembering Sunday's hike, we walked through a sporting goods store
and found some leather pouches that would double as purses. We ended
up having lunch there too, at a snack bar in the back called The
Camping Bucket. We both had pan-fried trout and biscuits, which were
surprisingly good. The waitress looked ridiculous as she stared at
us, but what the hell, you just can't get good help anymore.

Lisa told me she'd been to several possible fitness center locations
but not liked any of the buildings or locations. In addition, the
prices were sky high. The real estate agent was a gay fellow about
thirty-five years old and Lisa said he made a pass at her. She was
used to guys making passes and didn't really mind, although she did
turn him down.

After lunch I met a commercial leasing agent named Maika Leese. She
didn't understand my requirements as well as Qubie; mostly, she just
walked me into vacant offices and read off the prices. She wasn't
aware of the details on any of the properties. I wasn't happy with
any of the locations or prices, and extensive remodeling would be
required for any of them.

I met Lisa at four thirty. She was enthusiastic about the fitness
center contractor, a guy named Walt Bohrdweihst. He was familiar with
salons like Fit & Trim and had access to a lot of like-new used
equipment. After talking it over, we called Walt and Qubie and asked
them to work together on a unified floor plan and prepare an estimate
by a week from Wednesday. I double-checked this arrangement with
Bonnie, who gave a complete go-ahead and promised to match the lowest
rent we would find elsewhere. Spike and Pokey were more than willing
to give the upstairs key to anyone who needed to look around for us.

We had a quiet cowboy dinner at Champion Buck-It, strolled around the
neighborhood watching people's silly reactions, then headed back to
the guest house. Hank and Cynthia were playing tennis and we joined
them for two sets of doubles. Everyone rinsed off in the large hot
tub by the pool and I took the opportunity to thank Cynthia for
helping us find Qubie and Walt.

Hank and Cynthia walked back to their rooms hand in hand as Lisa and I
returned to the guest house. We removed our faces fairly quickly,
given that we were still working around the long acrylic nails. There
was a wonderful breeze blowing warmly through the bedroom as I snapped
on the evening news. Suddenly, Lisa got my attention by poking her
shoulder and pointing my finger at the set.

There, on screen, were Mera Thonn, Waylon Bellomore, and Tina Tates
standing in front of Fit & Trim. The story was about Stratford
Estates, which had earned the nickname Tinsel Town East. The reporter
explained how hundreds of residents had adopted extreme body
decoration during the past few weeks. Somehow, the entire city
council had adopted the new style and voted in special session to
declare the town clothing optional! An opposition group had filed
suit to overthrow the ordinance, but all three leaders and the judge
soon took up the new style themselves.

Lisa thought the story was great and couldn't wait to get back. I
couldn't understand how Lisa, Waylon, and Tina could deliberately
spread their compulsions to others. Fortunately, everyone affected
seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Chapter 52. Windy City Blowout Tuesday, Week 5

Tuesday morning Cynthia packed our bags while we ran fifteen laps and
ate breakfast. We dressed to the hilt in makeup, jewelry, ankle
boots, and a few scraps of clothing I've since forgotten. Hank drove
us to the airport and the trip to Chicago was painfully boring. We
didn't even get any free tickets.

Quite a few people at the airport were decorated. Some were
passengers, some were workers, and a few had set up temporary stands
to sell jewelry. Because of the national publicity, the jewelry
vendors were doing a fantastic business. I don't know how they got
permits for their stands but presumed someone was getting a cut.
Darkly, I wondered how much of the jewelry was contaminated.

We took the first cab in line and the cabby said "Stratford Estates"
before I could open my mouth. He also offered us twenty-five dollars
each for our clothes, in case we wouldn't be keeping them. As we
passed the sign welcoming us to the town, I thought we had reached
another planet. Every shopping strip we passed seemed to have a
tattoo parlor, jewelry store, and barber shop. The parking lots and
sidewalks were full of nude, decorated people from eighteen up to
eighty. They couldn't seem to find shops fast enough.

The cabby dropped us off in front of my apartment and waited by the
curb even after I paid him. "Is everything OK?" I asked.

"Oh, sure, I was just wondering about your clothes. You want 'em?" he
asked.

I waved the guy off and we headed for my apartment. The interior lawn
looked like some kind of rainbow love-in, with elaborately decorated
nude people sunbathing, strolling, and exercising everywhere. One
resident had called the police and was filing a complaint, but the
policeman was nude himself with a badge tattooed on his butt.

There didn't seem to be much point in staying dressed, so we threw our
clothes on the bed as soon as I unlocked the door. The answering
machine had four messages; three from Eric Tower and one from Phylen
Tipe. Eric wanted me to answer my electronic mail immediately.
Phylen was very upset because Eric was still blank, whatever that
meant. She wanted to meet me for lunch.

Lisa opened the windows as I powered up my computer and dialed into
Quixotic's E-mail system. Typing was almost impossible with the long
acrylic nails, and I had to use a pencil to push the keys. The first
message from Eric requested a preliminary staffing plan and budget
forecast for the San Francisco office. That was easy: I sent him the
headcount of eight, estimated salaries and overhead, and mentioned the
$250,000 rough estimate from Qubie. The next message was a repeat
that I didn't bother answering. The third message stated that the
moving company had contacted accounting, who wouldn't pay unless they
received approval from me. I send Eric a return memo accepting my
promotion and relocation, referencing the name of the moving company
and the agreed-to date. I also sent a copy to the manager of
accounting, requesting that he issue a purchase order to the movers.

The next message from Eric was a company-wide memo announcing that
even though Quixotic was located in Stratford Estates, conservative
business attire would still be required. The memo seemed to imply
that things had already gotten out of hand.

The last message was marked "Confidential" and I had to enter a
password to read it. Eric claimed that the VO's were after him.
Since I'd been out of town or sick during the outbreak, Eric had
decided I was the only person he could trust. He gave an address and
asked me to meet him Wednesday evening at nine o'clock.

Lisa called Fit & Trim but ended up talking to a new receptionist
named Felicity Peese. Tina was leading a class and Mera had left for
Springfield. Feelie promised to have Tina call Lisa when class was
over.

Tina called at nine o'clock sharp and told us to be there at ten
o'clock. It seemed odd to be driving around the familiar streets
nude, but it was a pleasant evening and the sidewalks were full of
decorated strollers. The lot at Fit & Trim was packed and we had to
park a block away. By then the air was getting chilly and I was glad
we didn't have to park any further.

Tina and Marty had set up a podium and eight rows of folding chairs in
the aerobics room. The place was filled with people, including many
standing along the wall. At ten o'clock, Tina began calling off names
and taking status reports. The manager of production reported they
now had five hundred people contaminating an average of fifteen pairs
of earrings a day. The manager of sales reported they'd sold three
thousand pairs of earrings at the airport and filled mail orders with
all the rest. The chairman of the political action committee reported
that watches, pens, money clips, and cigar cutters had been shipped
with fake letters of appreciation to over five hundred state and
national officials. Tina said she'd spoken with Mera, who now felt
that a state-wide clothing optional law was highly likely within two
weeks.

The social action committee reviewed suggestions on what to do about
remaining blanks in Stratford Estates. Many of the blanks were
beginning to suspect a causative agent, he reported, and there were
rumors in the press that metal objects were the carriers. The
committee was trying to approach the offending blank reporters, but
some were in hiding and others had barricaded themselves in wooden
buildings. There was a lengthy discussion of whether the general
population should be educated on how to propagate the decorative
movement or whether this would just provide the blanks with the
information necessary to resist. In the end, it was decided that all
committee members increase their influence by trading items among
themselves, and to build support in the surrounding suburbs by
targeting town visitors and fellow employees.

After the meeting several dozen couples retired to the equipment room.
Tina and Marty stayed in the hallway talking to people and keeping
attitudes positive. Lisa and I deliberately took the last place in
line.

"Tina, I object strongly to this. Just because we've been affected by
this curse doesn't mean we can spread it to others against their
will," I began.

"Oh, Doug, don't be silly. Nobody complains once it's happened to
them and people buy the earrings voluntarily. Look at all the media
attention and tourism Stratford Estates is getting!"

"What's a blank?" Lisa asked.

"Oh, you know, like a blank piece of paper or a blank canvas. It's an
undecorated person."

"What about the blanks who want to stay as they are?" I asked.

"Well, they can do their thing and we can do ours. That's the
problem; none of the blanks want to let us do our thing. It's
decorative discrimination!"

I could see that nothing would change Tina's mind. Anyway, I wanted
to get back to the car before the temperature dropped firther.

"Tina, what are you going to do when the weather gets cold again?" I
asked.

"Oh, we're trying to get a clothing tax passed. We can build heated
parking garages and walkways with the proceeds," she replied glibly.
"Are you coming in tomorrow, Doug?"

Lisa urged me on. "I think you should, Doug. You should learn all
you can before we start from scratch in San Francisco."

I wanted to remind her I had two jobs of my own to do, then realized
she didn't really want to hear it. "OK, but only Wednesday," I
promised. "I have to pack on Thursday and we're leaving on Friday."

We jogged back to my car and turned up the heater quickly. The
sidewalks were empty but the shops seemed packed with people and
willing to do business all night. We jogged from the car to my
apartment, stripped our jewelry and makeup, and jumped straight to
bed. It seemed odd not to undress for each other so we both put on
underwear and probed inside it. Sex with Lisa is never dull.

Chapter 53. Management Influence Wednesday, Week 5

It was still chilly in the morning so we didn't go jogging. I put on
a typical mass of jewelry and makeup, then looked outside to see what
people were wearing. Smiles and tattoos seemed to be the uniform of
the day so I grabbed Lisa's purse and headed for Fit & Trim.

Feelie Peese tried to sell me a membership, but Tina quickly explained
who I was. I spent four hours in aerobics, one in locker room, and
three in equipment. Locker room was quite easy now that no one
changed clothes. Equipment room was a bit of a nuisance because some
of the machines, like exercise bicycles, were uncomfortable without an
additional towel or seat pad.

Besides welcoming new customers, Feelie was showing dozens of fitness
instructors around the salon. Of course, they were hoping to imitate
Fit & Trim and pack their own salons full of people. Tina gave each
of them complimentary earrings and piercing.

At five o'clock I called it a day, explaining to Tina that I had
packing to do. The temperature was eighty degrees and I felt great
walking out to Lisa's car and driving home with the windows open.
Lisa was enjoying the fresh air as she carried boxes up to my
apartment.

"Oh, hi, Doug! Did you have a good day?" Lisa asked.

"I didn't get a clothes rash, anyway. How about you?"

"The moving guys came at ten o'clock. I think it was their first
visit to Stratford Estates since the change; they seemed pretty bug-
eyed. Anyway, everything is straightened out with your accounting
department and the truck will be loaded Friday. Some guys will be
here Thursday to pack anything we don't want to do ourselves. They'll
bill Quixotic for whatever you ship but I have to pay for anything
shipped from my apartment. Obviously, I'm moving as much stuff to
your place as possible."

"What else is new?"

"Oh, I had lunch with Phylen Tipe for you. What a circus! I put on
that whole damn monkey suit of yours: socks, underwear, shirt, tie,
pants, jacket, wing tips, burn gloves, plaster mask, everything. I
was suffocating. I met Phylen at Houlihan's and guess what she had
on: nothing! She has a diagonal Mohawk now, three nose rings, a lip
ring, two large nipple rings, and a four inch needle in her cheek.
Everybody knew Eric would be in New York today so nobody came in
dressed. He's threatened to fire anyone with visible tattoos or
jewelry, though, and he's insisting on blank business clothes for
everyone."

"So?"

"So Phylen and a few others believe Eric may have given you the
address of his hiding place. He comes to work in a leather ski mask
and gloves, and he's removed every scrap of metal from his office,
even the telephone and door hinges."

"Eric told me the VO's are after him. What does that mean?" I asked.

"That's what the blanks call us: Visually Offensives. So, you did get
a message from him! Phylen really needs it, Doug. You know, it would
solve our problem, too. I can't keep sneaking around in that plaster
mask forever. I'll get claustrophobia or something."

"What about Eric's wife?" I asked.

"Ivana? She was a Monday morning student at the salon. She's been
affected for a week now and Eric is talking about divorcing her. She
hasn't seen him for days and she's worried about him."

I thought about it for a long time. Eric was a friend of mine and he
didn't want to be contaminated. On the other hand, he'd be miserable
living the rest of his life sheathed in leather and living in
hideouts. Affecting him would solve many problems for Phylen, the
other employees, and myself, but it wasn't what Eric wanted.

"Oh, there's one more thing. Phylen wants to know if she can work for
you in San Francisco," Lisa added.

"Really? Does she know I'm affected?"

"No, I kept the monkey suit on the whole time. I reminded her she'd
have to wear clothes in San Francisco, too. Mostly, I think she likes
you, Doug. See how much I trust you?"

"Lisa, I'm not going to give you or Phylen the address. If you want
to put the monkey suit on, we can go there together. You have to
promise to respect Eric's wishes, too. No lunging with contaminated
needles or anything. Do you agree?"

She did, even though it meant getting dressed for both of us. I
didn't attempt to hide Lisa's decorations but I did remove all the
loose jewelry and makeup, and I wore an old baggy sweat suit. As we
walked to the car, people stared at us as if we were aliens from outer
space. Oh well.

The address turned out to be a closed-up brickyard. At nine o'clock I
asked Lisa to shout Eric's name into the air. A few minutes later he
appeared out of the darkness but stayed a hundred feet away.

"Doug, is that you?" he asked.

"Yes, Eric. It's Lisa and me," Lisa answered.

"Are there any VO's around?" Eric wanted to know.

"I'm not sure what you mean. I've been away, you know. We're alone,"
Lisa replied.

"Follow me," Eric instructed. It was difficult in the moonlight but
we followed him into a cement block room with a wooden door, leather
hinges, and wood-frame windows. Feeble light from a distant street
lamp provided the only visibility. Eric sat against the far wall and
insisted we sit opposite him, fifteen feet away.

"Doug, do you understand what's going on?" Eric asked with a tremor in
his voice.

"Only too well," Lisa assured him.

"You can't imagine what it's like. People's minds are being altered.
They mutilate themselves. They've taken over the government. They
force others to look at their depravity and do nothing about it. They
know I'm opposed to them and now they're after me."

"You're right about them being after you, Eric. They tried to contact
Lisa and me, but I wouldn't help them. I'm here to help you. How
long can you hide out like this?" Lisa asked.

"I'll do whatever is necessary to preserve my identity," he replied.

I tried speaking to him myself. "Eric, look at the people who've been
affected. Their identities aren't lost. They carry on with their
jobs; they still love their families; they live their lives. They're
following a new fashion trend; so what? Fashions come and go."

"Doug, how can people who suddenly stick themselves with needles and
walk around naked still themselves? What about the tattoos? Is
everybody riding motorcycles now? It all seems very fundamental to
me. People's inner personalities must be changing."

"Eric, take it from me; people stay themselves. They just loosen
their inhibitions, relax, and enjoy the flow. Why not express
yourself visually by decorating your own body? Haven't you noticed
that affected people are happy? Are you happy now?"

Eric said nothing for a full minute. "Both of you are VO's, aren't
you?"

I replied, "Eric, I'm afraid it started with us. We didn't intend for
any of this to happen, but it did. We were affected by an ancient
ceremonial cavern in New Mexico, and we affected a few other people
before we knew what was happening. Others deliberately affect people,
but we never have. I can tell you we're still ourselves, despite all
the changes we've been through."

"Is this where you lunge at me and steal my mind?" Eric asked.

Lisa replied first. "No, not at all. Eric, I talked to Phylen Tipe
today. Because you were out, not one employee dressed for work. You
can't fire them all without going out of business. Your wife is
affected and she's going to divorce you if you don't come home soon.
The whole town is out enjoying a beautiful warm evening and you're
sitting in a cold, dark prison of your own device."

It was my turn. "Look, Eric. At first, I felt like a freak because
no one accepted me. I called in sick because I didn't think you would
accept me. Now, Lisa and I fit right into the crowd and you're an
outcast. Yes, you are, look at this place; what else would you call
it?"

"I'll move to another city," Eric suggested.

"The VO's, as you call them, are selling three thousand pairs of
contaminated earrings a day at O'Hare. Where are you going to go?"
Lisa asked.

"What are you suggesting?" Eric wanted to know.

Lisa began a speech we'd rehearsed. "I've brought a ring for you to
wear, Eric. I've been wearing it for weeks. If you put it on, you'll
be affected rapidly. It's easier that way, because the period of self-
doubt passes quickly. If you want, I'll give you the ring. If not,
we'll take it with us as we leave."

"Doug, I heard you say you called in sick because you didn't think I'd
accept you. That had to be you talking, but it was Lisa's voice.
What's going on?"

Damn. "Eric, more things have happened to us than you can imagine.
I'm in Lisa's body, and she has mine. I know it sounds impossible,
but it happened. It wasn't deliberate. We're still ourselves.
You'll still be yourself."

"Has anyone else changed bodies? Would I get Ivana's?" Eric wanted to
know.

"I know of two couples who did it deliberately. A brother and sister
were both undergoing sex changes and took it to completion rapidly. A
professor and his assistant did it for scientific research. In both
cases, they had to enter the chamber in New Mexico. I'm sure there's
no risk of the same thing happening to others."

"Doug, are you saying you're a VO in a female body and you feel like
the same person?" Eric asked.

"That's right, Eric," I answered.

Eric thought for another long minute. "Doug, I'm going to ask you for
two things. Give me both or neither. I want the ring and directions
to the cavern."

I opened Lisa's purse and pulled out a miniature flashlight. Eric
gasped when he saw Lisa's face. Lisa handed me the ring from my
finger and I copied Allen Damihnd's business card onto a slip of
paper. I stood and put both items on the floor in front of Eric.
From the beard on his face, I knew he'd been holed up in that room all
day and hadn't gone to New York at all. Eric read the slip of paper,
put on the ring, and asked me how the MicroMind account was
progressing. I told him we had a lock on the business and described
the steps I'd taken to find office space. Lisa talked about her lunch
with Phylen. After half an hour, Eric said he wanted to go home. All
three of us ditched our clothes and jogged to the car.

Chapter 54. The Salt Mine Thursday, Week 5

We spent the night at Lisa's apartment then, in the morning, Lisa
called Phylen and reported that Eric was no longer blank. Phylen was
overjoyed and promised to start calling others; she also agreed to
another lunch date. Lisa and I spent the next few hours throwing out
useless stuff and packing our new clothes for shipment to the guest
house. At eleven we went jogging, showered, and made up for lunch.

Phylen was surprised to see us both and fascinated by our matching
tattoos and jewelry. She particularly liked the matching head figures
Claude Storm had painted. After a short wait, the hostess led us to
our table and placed towels on the seats.

"Phylen, this may be hard to believe, but Lisa and I have switched
bodies," I began.

Phylen switched her gaze between us several times. She pointed at my
face and asked, "Who is this?"

"I'm Lisa," said Lisa.

"Then, you're Doug?" Phylen asked, pointing at Lisa's face.

"Exactly. It's nice to see you again, Phylen. How do you like the
new me?" I asked.

She glanced between us again. "I'm sorry. This is foolish, but I
just have to do it. If you're Doug, tell me where we first had sex,"
Phylen insisted, looking straight into Lisa's face. Of course, she'd
asked something I wouldn't have discussed with Lisa.

"It was in Eric Tower's office on a Saturday afternoon. We threw his
sofa cushions on the floor. You didn't wear panties that day," I
replied. Lisa made "shame shame" with my forefingers.

"Right on all counts, but the bit about the panties was a gimmee. I
haven't worn them since I was eighteen, and I'm certainly not going to
start now. Wow, this will be difficult to get used to. Are you going
to change your names and driver's licenses and stuff?"

"So far, we're still ourselves, we just look different -- very
different. Phylen, I need to spend an afternoon at the office
cleaning up deals and paperwork. I need you to understand that it's
me working in my office and to help explain things to the others."

"That's no problem, big guy. I'll give you a tour of the women's
john, too. Are you two going to tell me what it's like?" Phylen
asked.

"Physically, much as you'd expect. I don't know what else to tell
you. I get stared at more in a woman's body than a man's. High heels
suck. I'm not used to wearing dresses and skirts. I wish Lisa's tits
didn't bounce around so much during exercise. I liked being taller.
Multiple orgasms are fun." I rattled.

"I hate wet sheets. One shot and it's over. It's harder to find
variety in clothes. I still like makeup but it really drives blanks
crazy. Standing and pissing was interesting for a while but having a
fly was the best part: much better than fucking around with a dress,
slip, pantyhose, and panties just to pee. Doug's body is stronger but
it can't exercise for hours at a time like mine," Lisa related.

"Well, I'd still like to be your secretary in San Francisco, Doug. I
mean, it wasn't a sexual thing anyway; I know you and Lisa are getting
married. My boyfriend, Trace Surkit, is being transferred to San
Jose, that's all."

I told Phylen she had the job. She also gave me a ride to the office
so Lisa wouldn't have to drop me off. Sitting nude in her front seat
was odd but I got over it. We met Eric in the parking lot.

Eric had been busy. He had a purple flat top haircut, four huge rings
in each ear, and a wide black leather cinch belt covered with metal
eyelets. The Washington Monument was tattooed on the front of his
left thigh and an Egyptian pyramid on his right buttock. Chain
shoulder armor and studded sandals completed his attire.

"Hi, Doug and Phylen. You two look great today. Is everybody
comfortable inside? Great. Thanks for your help last night, Doug. I
do still feel like myself now, only more so, just as you said. Wow,
this breeze is great. I hate to go inside. How about golf, Doug?"

"My sticks and shoes are too big for me now, Eric. Also, I need to
clean up some paperwork and my desk this afternoon. Maybe you and
Ivana could make a foursome with Phylen and Trace."

"Can Trace make it?" Eric asked.

"He's still my boyfriend, isn't he?" Phylen replied defensively.

"No, I meant: can he play golf this afternoon?"

"Let's see, Thursday; yes, I think he can. I'll call him," said
Phylen.

I finished my paperwork, made a few calls, and explained my
predicament to at least ten different people. Everyone thanked me for
convincing Eric that blank stank. I never did get to sort my old
files; Phylen would just have to ship everything.

Chapter 55. Buckskin Friday, Week 5

Friday, the movers loaded our cars and belongings onto their truck and
headed out to San Francisco. After vacating the apartments we took a
taxi to Mailboxes & More and shipped our new clothes to the guest
house. This left us with four gym bags containing jewelry, makeup,
and one set of clothes for traveling. The taxi continued to the
Stratford Inn and we left for Houston Saturday morning.

The Kahrs met us at the airport. Of course, they knew our predicament
but Lisa's mother still wasn't sure who to hug. In the end, we both
hugged her and shook hands with Lisa's dad, Victor. They both wore
shorts and T-shirts. I could tell they weren't used to piercing and
tattoos.

At Buckskin Family Resort Victor and Katie got out of the car first
and casually tossed their clothes onto the front seat. Lisa and I
followed suit, so to speak. As Lisa had described, the place seemed
much like any other campground. Katie showed us to one of the few
permanent cabins and left us to get settled. With no clothes to
unpack, it didn't take long. I noticed that the room didn't have a
closet, clothes pole, hangers, or dresser. We freshened our jewelry
and makeup, then walked back to the office. Lisa went with her dad to
set some fence post holes and I helped Katie put away some things in
the kitchen and mind the camp store.

We stayed three days, meeting people from the age of one month to
eighty-three years. There was no public sex but lots of family fun
and togetherness. No one else was into decoration but they all let us
have our space. Most people stayed in motor homes and just used the
showers, pool, beach, and store. Victor and Katie sold snacks but
there was no restaurant as such.

One afternoon Lisa and I were sitting with Victor under an awning on
the beach. As was the custom, we were sitting on beach towels spread
over the permanent seats. A cooler of Lone Star long necks provided
refreshment.

Victor related how, twenty years before, he and his college roommate
did a college paper on regulating energy use in buildings. Victor was
the engineer and his roommate, Plug Krankum, was a mathematical
genius. They only got a C on their paper but their approach
outperformed everything on the market. After graduating, they built a
few systems by hand and made enough money to start their company.
They made millions, but now their patent had expired and they had
trouble keeping up with the large electronics companies. It was time
to sell out.

Katie Kahr joined us and explained how running a resort had always
been a dream of theirs. Neither of them had nudists for parents, but
they found early in their marriage that clothing could be a bother.
They bought Buckskin as a going concern but now felt they had the
experience to start a resort from scratch. Buckskin had a nice family
crowd but the Kahrs were considering a more upscale and sophisticated
clientele, not necessarily long-term nudists, who were looking for an
unusual vacation.

I mentioned the open space around Spike and Clipper's place to Victor.
He replied that San Francisco was a location he'd considered and which
seemed more attractive than ever now that Lisa and I would be living
in the Bay Area. The result was that Lisa's parents accompanied us to
San Francisco.

Chapter 56. Great Expectations Tuesday, Week 6

Tuesday morning it was time to leave. Our clothes were still on
Victor's car seat so we carried out our travel bags and got dressed by
the car before heading to the airport. We'd both cut back on makeup
and jewelry around the resort but loaded up for the trip with
everything possible. Lisa's parents were both shocked and amused at
the reaction we got from people in the airport. Of course, we had to
go through a hand search at security.

Hank picked us up at SFO and drove directly to the estate. Victor
told Hank that he and Katie had hotel reservations, but Hank said he
was needed at the estate and promised to take them to the hotel later.
Clipper and Pokey were waiting for us at the guest house and, of
course, they insisted that Lisa's parents take the second bedroom. I
could see that Victor was greatly intrigued by Pokey, and the Kahrs
certainly preferred a place where they didn't have to dress. They
accepted. Pokey said they had a bedroom in the house that Saul and
Wanda could use when they arrived.

Cynthia had unpacked, cleaned, pressed, and hung our clothes already.
Hank did the same for the Kahrs, a process Katie watched with
interest. I called Qubie and set up a meeting to discuss floor plans
at ten o'clock Wednesday at Essence Alley. Qubie said he would call
Walt Bohrdweihst.

Lisa eyed her body closely while I was on the phone and poked her ribs
in several places. "Doug, has my body gained weight?" she asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "Is there a scale somewhere?"

Lisa found a scale in the bathroom closet and made me stand on it.
"Aha! You've put six pounds on my body! I can see it, too, in my
arms and my thighs."

"Maybe the jewelry weighs six pounds," I suggested.

"No, I've weighed your body with and without jewelry; the difference
is four pounds and I've already allowed for that. You need to lose
six pounds, Doug. I won't have my body looking like a blimp!"

I promised to diet Lisa's body down to her original weight. It was
time to clean up for dinner but Lisa didn't feel like taking a shower,
so I turned on the hot tub. Soon Lisa and I immersed ourselves in the
warm gentle massage of the spa. The two guest house patios were
separated by a block wall and shrubbery, but soon I heard Katie and
Victor doing the same

I let Lisa's body float and she supported me by placing my arms under
her shoulders and butt. We kissed, and I reached down to fondle my
cock. Lisa's kissing increased and I rolled toward her, locking her
leg under mine. I massaged the back of my neck as she rubbed her
nipples. Lisa put my hand between her legs and began stroking her
clitoris. I responded by stroking my cock with her hand.

Lisa let my body float toward the surface and steered my cock toward
her mouth. I pulled her closer and enclosed her mouth around my tool.
I sucked in as much of my cock as possible and wiggled Lisa's tongue
against the bottom. Suddenly, Lisa tensed and I tasted the strong
bitter tang of cum. I kissed my cock several times on its way out of
Lisa's mouth, then let Lisa's body float to the surface. I steered
her pussy toward my face and hooked her ankles onto the side of the
hot tub.

Lisa kissed her pussy tenderly at first, then began chewing at it
vigorously. Quickly she placed my thumb in her vagina and began
wiggling my tongue against her clitoris. I received sensations from
all over Lisa's body as she continued to work on her clitoris, vagina,
and asshole. Finally Lisa's body tensed and I lost track of my
surroundings, sensing only incredible sensation over all of Lisa's
body. Exhausted, we pushed apart and rinsed in the warm, bubbling
water. We got out of the hot tub five minutes later. Lisa's parents
must not have soaked as long as we did, because I didn't hear their
equipment running when I turned ours off.

We dried ourselves and put on new makeup. Lisa was getting pretty
bold; somehow it now seemed normal to see my face with amber lipstick,
violet blush, and orange eye shadow. I decided to reverse her scheme
and wore orange lipstick with violet eye shadow and blue rouge.
Victor and Katie were sitting at a table by the pool when we came out
for dinner. Lisa froze.

"Mother, where did you get that pair of earrings?" she asked.

"Oh, hello dear. You had so many; I just wanted to borrow a pair. I
hope you don't mind. Your father finally relented and got one, too.
To tell the truth, I think he just wanted Pokey to fuss over him."

Lisa's parents were wearing some of the first earrings Lisa and I
bought together. They had to be so contaminated that taking them out
now wouldn't do a bit of good. Oh well, I sat back and watched the
show.

Clipper and Pokey came out for dinner at five o'clock. Dan Tweedle
poured an excellent Napa Valley blush wine and soon everyone but me
was relaxed; I skipped the calories. Clipper mentioned that Lisa and
I would be needing a haircut soon, as our hair was up to a good eighth
inch.

Actually, Lisa's hair didn't look even that long. Instead of growing
out blonde, the hair over Claude Storm's painting was black,
turquoise, and umber, repeating the pattern of the imbedded image.
Her head looked bald and tattooed, even with a short covering of hair!
Clipper said he'd given haircuts to several people with tattooed heads
and never seen the pattern repeated in hair color.

Katie began discussing short hairstyles with Clipper while Victor
asked Pokey about her tattoos and piercings. Both Kahrs began looking
us up and down with new appreciation. Dan served a tossed salad
vinaigrette that I barely touched because of my new diet and, of
course, the damn lip chain and the acrylic nails. Lisa did a little
better but Pokey had no trouble at all, showing years of practice.
Victor and Katie smiled knowingly at our predicament and gave each
other winks.

The entree was grilled abalone with stir-fried peppers and zucchini.
By cutting it into small pieces, I was able to eat a small portion
fairly gracefully. Victor and Katie talked about their backgrounds
and then asked the Pearsons and Strands about theirs. They were
fascinated to discover a barber and a pierced jewelry specialist at
the table. To my relief, Spike and Clipper both said they never did
business at home.

Victor wouldn't take no for an answer and eventually threatened to
crudely shave Katie's head and his own. Clipper didn't want that
either; in the end, Katie got a quarter-inch zigzag Mohawk and
Victor's head became a spot modified to resemble a bulls-eye. They
also got Pokey's help by threatening to pierce themselves; they each
got more earrings and a couple of nose rings.

"Well, what do you think of your parents?" I asked Lisa as we were
getting ready for bed.

"It's always hard to think of them as real adults, isn't it?" she
answered. "We get to know our parents as children and always think of
them in childlike ways. They got some jewelry and wild haircuts
tonight. Why shouldn't they?"

"Do you feel guilty?" I wanted to know.

"No, I did nothing deliberate to harm them. They're going to be
decorated: fine. Many people are, including ourselves. It's harmless
and nothing to be ashamed of."

I tried to decide whether my own life had been harmed or just changed.
Things were happening faster than I could control them; it was
stressful but also exciting. My well-planned life seemed in ruins and
I didn't know where my new one was headed. I decided there were more
important than whatever had already happened to Lisa's parents.
Anyway, they seemed to be enjoying it.

Chapter 57. Remodeling Wednesday, Week 6

Wednesday morning the scale showed that Lisa's body had gained another
two pounds. The rest of the morning was normal. Lisa and I ran our
laps in the morning, then the three Kahrs and I rode into town with
Pokey. Victor and Katie started visiting the shops while Lisa and I
kept our appointments at Fulton's Follicle.

Zach's receptionist was a walking before and after demonstration. Her
left side was absolutely hairless from head to toe -- not even
eyebrows or eyelashes. On her right side she had dark Latin hair
hanging to her waist, curly black hairs all over her arm and leg, and
a lush bush protruding from her string bikini bottom. A cropped tank
top and sandals completed her clothing. She had two nose rings, a lip
ring, ten or twelve earrings, and a navel ring, all on her left side.
Only her left eye and cheek were made up, but she wore bright red
lipstick on both sides.

"Hi, we're Lisa Kahr and Doug Trents. We have appointments at nine
o'clock," I told her.

"Good morning, Lisa. I'm Cemi Glaus. You're the first appointment of
the day. Zach is waiting for you in Room One and Roberta is in Room
Two. You can do it either way. Smooth sailing!" she said, rubbing
her scalp. I didn't bother to correct her about my name.

Lisa went into Room One, leaving me to Roberta Fulton. She was a
tall, blank brunette wearing a lycra jumpsuit, shorts, and a short
puffy haircut. I'd never met her.

"Good morning, Lisa! I hope you're ready to throw away your razor
today! Did you want the head-to-toe job?" she asked.

Lisa and I had discussed this several times. "Actually, my name is
Doug. I just want from the neck down, today."

"OK, Deb, but I always warn people. There's no difference in price
whether you get your head done today or not. If you decide later for
a complete head job or any kind of pattern, you'll have to pay for
another visit. I mean, what have you got to lose?" Roberta asked,
pinching Lisa's multicolor eighth inch tresses.

"My fiancee and I don't want to look too strange," I explained.

Roberta looked at Lisa's jewelry, tattoos, piercings, and makeup. I'd
worn some tiny cotton sweat shorts and a cut-off tank top that hung
freely from Lisa's breasts. "Well, suit yourself. You'd be surprised
how many people decide never to get another haircut, though. Please
undress."

I did; it only took ten seconds. "I see you've kept your hair," I
pointed out.

"Occupational hazard," Roberta answered, tossing her wig on the hat
rack. "I don't get much of a zap from the equipment but I'm around it
all day. I slipped a few times and bumped my head on the discharge
plate, too. Are you sure? It's a shame to cover up that Indian
bird."

I told Roberta that I liked bald women, and that some of my best
friends were bald women, but that I didn't want to look like one. At
that, Roberta spread a towel on the table and asked me to lie down.
Without asking, she removed the clips that kept Lisa's pussy rings
from slipping out and carefully set the rings on a tray. Next, she
removed all the loose pendants and chains and began spraying Lisa's
front side with anesthetic. She was quite adept at applying the
insulating creme and passing the static electrode over Lisa's body
without touching her skin. Lisa's entire front side was hairless in
seven minutes; the back took only five. Of course, the room was
equipped with a shower and Lisa's body was squeaky clean in no time.
As I replaced the pussy rings and got dressed, Roberta explained that
thousands of hairs were dormant and that I would have to return when
they emerged. I thanked her and remarked what a clean, efficient, and
courteous visit it had been.

Lisa was done at the same time and I met her in the hall. My head was
hairless as a cue ball. I sighed and returned to Room Two. The worst
part was taking all my removable jewelry off and then putting it back
on.

At ten o'clock we borrowed Spike's office to meet with Qubie and Walt
Bohrdweihst. Walt had designed a fabulous health club with two
aerobics rooms, an equipment room, handball courts, two locker rooms,
a storage room, and an office. Qubie had planned an elegant reception
area using the original factory entrance behind Essence Alley, a
conference room, separate office space for Quixotic and CosmaTech, and
a laboratory room for Priscilla and the research scientist. As
promised, I had two offices with a connecting door, and Lisa's office
connected to my CosmaTech office.

All three offices overlooked Essence Alley's open mall. Walt and
Qubie had carefully arranged the noisy exercise areas so they weren't
directly over any stores. CosmaTech and Quixotic had their own
entrance that appeared to be a block away from Essence Alley. Qubie
recommended leaving the old freight elevator in place because removing
it wouldn't be worth the large expense. Lisa wanted to know if the
wall between the men's and women's locker room could be made
temporary, in case she ever wanted it removed. Qubie assured her this
would be no problem. Both Lisa and I realized there was no better
design and told Walt and Qubie we would begin as soon as financing
could be worked out. The contractors were eager to get started and
gave us the names of their lawyers. As soon as Walt and Qubie left we
used Spike's phone to call Robin's office. Georgie promised to pick
up the blueprints, get Bonnie's approval, and start talking to the
banks. I fished my appointment book out of Lisa's purse and gave
Georgie Mera's and Waylon's numbers in Chicago.

Lisa and I met her parents for lunch at Chain Ring Bouquet. I didn't
eat a thing and drank only Perrier. Victor and Katie had started
their shopping at Ann's Hides, where Katie bought a patent leather bra
and hot pants set, black ankle boots, and a shoulder bag that looked
like a rhinoceros horn. Victor bought some suede skin shorts that
laced up the side, matching lace-up boots, and a bolero vest. Both of
them threw away their old clothes on the spot. They spent several
hours at Piercing Scream getting more items pierced into their ears,
noses, cheeks, and navels. Finally, Zach had squeezed them in just
before lunch. Katie was sorry that her legs, underarms, and head were
recently shaved but did get her pussy hair zapped. Victor had
everything removed from the neck down. They were in great spirits,
and I should have been flattered they were imitating the new style
Lisa and I had chosen. Instead, I felt guilty for inducing a weird
set of involuntary compulsions.

The plated aluminum chains we'd been wearing were starting to flake
and bend, so after lunch Lisa and I picked out permanent sets at
Piercing Scream. Lisa's face felt really weird after Spike removed
the old chains. We decided to get a permanent lip chain welded onto
the same nose ring, but for variety, to use detachable ones elsewhere.
We started with three additional chains each; one from the left ear to
the lower left lip ring, another from the right ear to the nose, and
one from a left cheek stud to the lower right lip ring.

Victor and Katie spent most of the afternoon at Skin Deep. Katie
started on a brilliant blue waterfall tumbling from her right shoulder
down her arm. Victor got a water nymph tattooed on his left arm; she
was asleep with her head and arms resting on Victor's shoulder. Both
of them were disappointed at the slow rate of progress and spent
nearly an hour at About Face getting their faces done.

We had dinner at Champion Buck-It, now my favorite cowboy restaurant.
Victor had the steak and cowboy beans, Lisa had pan-fried trout, and
Katie tried the rattlesnake. I had a small dinner salad with vinegar
dressing, although I didn't finish it.

The four of us idly shopped the neighborhood for clothes and jewelry
until Essence Alley closed. Spike and Pokey gave us a ride back to
the estate in their motor home. Despite bring sore from their new
work, Katie and Victor decided firmly to return for more on Thursday.
Lisa promised to join them but I needed to spend a day on the phone.

As we approached the estate, Katie remarked that she'd like a drink.
Pokey assured her this was no problem and used the cellular phone to
call ahead. After Pokey dropped us off we found Dee waiting in the
guest house living room. Victor and Katie both ordered gin and
tonics. Lisa decided to try straight Scotch so I asked for a
daiquiri.

We started chatting about the day's activities and the next day's
schedule. Lisa explained her plans for building Fit & Trim West and I
explained my interest in office space. Soon our glasses were empty
and Dee brought another round without being asked.

I'd tried a few daiquiris in my own body but never really liked the
taste of them. The effect on Lisa's system was completely different;
the daiquiri was delicious and somehow exciting. Soon I was growing
impatient, waiting for something exciting to happen Drinking on an
empty stomach probably heightened the effect.

Gin and tonics seemed to have an aphrodisiac effect on Katie; during a
pause in the conversation she reached into Victor's lap and took hold
of his cock. I don't think Lisa had ever seen her parents engaged in
sex. She seemed shocked and looked to me for direction. This I
supplied by taking hold of my own cock for her. By now Lisa's father
was stroking her mother's breast, so Lisa began to stroke her own as
well.

"Would you like to have sex with us?" asked Katie.

"Wouldn't that be incest?" Lisa asked.

"Sure, you seem like nice people," answered Dee.

The four of us turned to face Dee. She had a nice figure but looked
very plain and blank. "I'm sure my brother Dan would join us," she
offered.

"I wouldn't feel at all incestuous being with Doug's body, Lisa," said
Katie.

"Wouldn't we do it with our own partner?" I asked.

"Doug, that would be incestuous for Dee and Dan," Lisa pointed out.

"If you like Dan, I'll call him, Doug," offered Dee, who was mixing me
another daiquiri.

"Wouldn't you call him Dan?" I asked.

"I'm Dee, Doug, not Dan, but if you insist I'll call him anything,"
said Dee.

"You'll call him now?" I asked.

"No, I'll call him Dan, of course," said Dee, picking up the phone.

"How are we going to do this?" Lisa wanted to know.

"My dear, they taught you the basics in high school, didn't they?
You're about to get married, for heavens sake. Perhaps we need to
have a little talk," Katie replied, astonished.

"I mean, there are only two bedrooms," Lisa explained.

"Well, then, it should be easy to choose. Let's go see which is the
larger," said Katie.

Katie decided that the larger bedroom was hers and Victor's. Dan
arrived and mixed another round of drinks, then we all went into
Kahrs's bedroom and Victor threw back the king-sized sheets. Katie
and Dee laid on the ends, leaving the middle for me to crawl into.
Moments later, Lisa crawled over her mother and Victor mounted Dee.
Dan approached me tenderly.

I'd never had sex with a man before; just with girl friends and, of
course, Lisa. Dan was more aggressive than Lisa; while attentive, he
definitely called the shots and set the pace. He kissed Lisa's neck
and cheeks, then moved on to her lips and nipples. More exciting to
me were the sounds of sexual activity to my right and left. I could
hear my voice gasping as Lisa worked my cock into her mother's pussy,
and Dee was uttering a constant stream of gasps and cries. I
suspected she was a screamer and waited to see if my suspicion was
correct. The mattress shook violently under the activity of six
people.

Dan was extremely surprised that I made him wear a condom but he
didn't object. His cock was smaller than mine but it didn't feel much
different when he pushed it into Lisa's pussy. Maybe the researchers
were correct and cock size really didn't matter, I thought. By that
time, Lisa and Victor had penetrated their partners as well. A heady
atmosphere began filling the room as three cocks pounded three
pussies. I sensed that Lisa's pussy was close to cumming when I heard
another sound.

Victor had left the sliding door to the hot tub open, allowing fresh
air to enter through the screen. Suddenly, though, the screen was
covered by dozens of birds, all singing and chirping in the middle of
the night. Lisa's body was now hanging on the edge of ecstasy, but
more birds were arriving and the partners to my left and right still
seemed to be working up. Dan was grinding his belly against Lisa's
clitoris furiously now, and most of the birds had backed up against
each other in pairs. Suddenly, the six of us in the bedroom and the
hundreds of birds outside all came together. It was the most
incredible sensation I'd ever experienced; for a moment, I even
imagined that my arms were wings and my mouth was a beak. Suddenly,
it was over; Victor, Dee, and Lisa pulled away and we all hugged. The
birds flew away.

I knew something unusual had happened the minute I looked at Dan; on
his forearm was the perfect image of a mockingbird. Of course, Victor
and Lisa had one too. Dee and Katie saw me looking at the image on my
arm and soon noticed they too had been affected.

One more tattoo was nothing to me and Lisa, and her parents were
starting to get work done on themselves anyway. The Tweedles didn't
take it so well; the images were as perfect as any Audobon drawing
but Dan and Dee both tried washing themselves for fifteen minutes at
least.

"What do you suppose happened?" Lisa asked.

"I sure don't know. Maybe Dr. Damihnd or Claude Storm would have an
explanation. In the meantime, let's avoid group sex," I suggested.

"Doug, how can you say that?" asked Katie. "All apologies to Victor,
that was the most incredible sex I ever had. I hope you two children
don't intend to deprive your mother of a such a simple pleasure in the
future. Also, there are beneficial health effects: my piercings seem
to be completely healed now."

"I feel ready to go again," said Victor.

Dee and Dan asked if we wanted another drink. We said not, and they
headed back to their rooms. Victor turned on the hot tub and soon we
were all rinsing and relaxing together. Later, as we were drying, I
suddenly noticed Lisa's pussy getting moist for no reason. My cock
and Victor's instantly became hard, and judging from her expression,
Katie was aroused too. We all knew there was only one conclusion: Dan
and Dee were having at it.

Chapter 58. Sandy Claws Thursday, Week 6

In the morning Lisa watched me weigh her body and was dismayed to find
I had added another two pounds. "Doug, are you sneaking junk food?"
she asked.

"Lisa, you saw everything I ate yesterday. I don't think it added up
to two pounds of food!" I replied.

"Well, my arms, thighs, and waist all look thicker to me. You're ten
pounds over my last weight. I'm serious about this, Doug! I want you
to get that weight off my body before it looks like a blimp!" Lisa
insisted. I promised to lose weight.

Breakfast was a little tense. Dan was serving and he eyed the four of
us constantly. Clipper and Shag were just leaving as we arrived, and
no one else was present. The scene was very uncomfortable until Dee
came out and stood with Dan. They walked over to the table and asked
to sit and talk. We readily agreed.

"We want to apologize for our behavior last night," Dee began. "It
was an incredible experience for both of us, and we'd like to do it
again. We're starting to like the bird images, too. Will you forgive
us?"

I decided not to tell the Tweedles about the arousal we experienced
after they left. "No apology is necessary," I told them. "I think we
were all surprised by what happened."

"We're both sick of long hair, and we've decided to get some jewelry
like yours. Is anybody going to Essence Alley today?" Dee asked.

Suddenly it was all too clear. Dan and Dee had become affected just
like Mera, Waylon, Victor, Katie, Hal, Carla, and the others. Whether
it happened through contact with our jewelry or direct sexual contact,
I couldn't guess. It wasn't intentional and the Tweedles were
starting to enjoy it, but I still felt guilty.

I limited my eating to black coffee and half a cup of plain yogurt.
Lisa, her parents, and the Tweedles all rode to Essence Alley in
Pearson's motor home. After they left, it took me an hour to get Dr.
Damihnd's unlisted home phone number. I started with the college
telephone operator and worked my way through various faculty members.
The operator would give me their names and ring their office phones,
but wouldn't give their home phone numbers. I had to place separate
calls to directory assistance for that. Finally, though, I got
through.

Damihnd wasn't surprised that a group experience had occurred, nor
that empathy with animals was involved. Such incidents were mentioned
in the narratives, he said, but he had no opinion on what they meant
or whether they would be repeated. He had no comment about the
incidents in Stratford Estates except that perhaps such changes had
led to the departure or downfall of the Anasazi hundreds of years ago.

Next I called Carla Slied's parents and asked where I could find Carla
and Hal. Dawn said Hal carried a sky pager and gave me its number.
Ten minutes after paging him, Hal hadn't called back so I made my next
call: Mera Thonn.

Mera wasn't at home or at Fit & Trim, but Tina answered at the salon.
She said Mera and five hundred decorated protesters were marching on
the state capitol in Springfield, attempting to get a state-wide
clothing-optional law passed. They had thousands of cheap metal
earrings, rings, and campaign buttons ready to give away. Mera and
Tina had been mailing contaminated Cross pens and Seiko watches to
legislators and broadcasters all week, and hoped to accumulate a
legislative majority within a few days. Tina and her boyfriend Marty
had continued working out with Mera and Waylon but none of them had
any experiences involving animals or group consciousness.

Hank and Cynthia stopped by at eleven to make the beds and clean up.
They were surprised to find me there and eyed me curiously. After
finishing their jobs, they sat down across from me in the living room
and asked what had happened with Dan and Dee. In ten minutes I
summarized the entire story and explained that we never intended to
contaminate anyone, let alone Dan and Dee. Cynthia was understanding,
and said that no one could have predicted what happened. Similar
things were spoken about in Jamaican folk lore but Cynthia said no one
really believed in them anymore.

I skipped lunch and was watching a baseball game on television when
Hal O'Graff called back. He and Carla were in Florida photographing
animals in the Everglades. They hadn't experienced group
consciousness but had numerous dreams in which they were animals. Of
course, that might not be unusual for people camping in the
Everglades.

In the early afternoon I began sketching out the marketing plan for
CosmaTech. It seemed to me that the first priority was to open model
salons in cities across the country. Of course, we also needed to get
the equipment manufactured, but we could go with low-volume prototypes
at first. I called both Bonnie and Chip Bildehr about the
manufacturing but neither of them were in and I could only leave
messages.

Later I went over to Spike's study and used his computer to draft a
franchise prospectus for CosmaTech. If was difficult to type with
long acrylic nails stuck to Lisa's fingers, but by then I was getting
used to it. I briefly summarized the early sales results Zach Fulton
was achieving, described the three-step process of permanent hair
removal, and outlined franchising terms. I wanted to get several
franchises operating successfully around the country, both for revenue
and to prove that success wasn't unique to Essence Alley. Zach
already had the Bay area. I thought Victor and Lisa might take
Houston. Mera and Waylon could handle Chicago. Sue and Sid Missouf
might be interested in New York. I wasn't sure about New Mexico, but
thought that Len & Dawn Slied, Saul and Wanda Bohnes, Dr. Damihnd, or
Ada Kamp might be interested. With those people in mind, I set up
three franchise plans; $250,000 up front plus 10% of sales, $125,000
plus 15% of sales, or $10,000 plus 20%. If a franchise holder failed
to develop part of an area, CosmaTech could reclaim and resell it. I
set the prospectus in type, printed it on the laser printer, and
mailed copies to Mera, Sue, Damihnd, Ada, and the Slieds. I also kept
two copies to present personally to the Kahrs and Bohnes.

The moving company called at about four o'clock to say our shipment
had arrived. The clerk said Lisa and I could pick up our cars and the
items marked "immediate delivery" any time between eight and five. It
would be good to have my own transportation again.

It was a warm day so I went for a swim before dinner. I was drying
myself off when Cynthia and Hank came out to talk with me. Cynthia
said she'd always liked Pokey's decorations but never had the nerve to
get any work done on herself. She'd seen the news clips about
Stratford Estates and read an article in the Examiner about the
Springfield demonstrations. She knew tattoos wouldn't show on her
skin but was ready to be welted in the way of certain African women.
Finally, she asked me for a pair of earrings and another pair for
Hank. As I'd begun to suspect, they were lovers. Hank was bisexual.

I stood next to Hank and asked them both if they really preferred the
tattoos and jewelry on Lisa's body to Hank's smooth skin. They looked
over Lisa's body and confirmed they wanted to join us. I warned them
the effects seemed irreversible, and they said they understood.
Finally, I went back to the guest house and picked out the two oldest
matching pairs in the earring collection. If they were going to do
it, let the transition be quick, I reasoned. I put the four earrings
on the patio table in front of Cynthia and Hank, then returned to the
guest house to drink a glass of wine and soak in the hot tub.

At six o'clock Hank called and said they were ordering Chinese food.
I told them to get me just a small portion of wild rice. Hank called
again at quarter to seven and said dinner was ready by the pool. He
and Cynthia were wearing the earrings but hadn't made any other
changes. Marble and Shag served themselves from the paper buckets and
returned inside, leaving us to chat. After eating, Hank and Cynthia
went inside to look at Spike's books on piercing and welting. I threw
away half the cup of rice.

Pokey arrived with the others at nine thirty. Lisa had bought some
matching rings for both of us and matching pairs of lace-up suede
shorts like Victor's only black. Dan and Dee had started simple with
a nose-to-toe CosmaTech body job, matching spot haircuts, ten pairs of
earrings, three nose rings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings.
Everything matched, including their makeup.

Victor and Katie bought lots of minimal clothing, jewelry, and makeup.
Katie had more detail added to her waterfall and Victor got a nude,
muscular Neptune inked onto his right arm.

The six of us were standing around the living room awkwardly when
Cynthia and Hank arrived. Obviously, Dan and Dee had told them what
happened the night before. The Tweedles made drinks for everyone and
we chatted about nothing for twenty minutes or so. Quietly, Cynthia
approached me, put her hands around Lisa's back, and kissed Lisa's
mouth deeply. Her pussy was still quite hairy and I felt it pressing
against Lisa's. Hank embraced a surprised Victor, leaving Dee with
Katie and Dan with Lisa.

It was easiest for Cynthia and Hank; they'd obviously been with their
own sex before. Despite being in control of Lisa's equipment, I was
more comfortable with Cynthia than with a man; Lisa, of course, was
more comfortable with Dan than any woman. I wasn't sure about Dan and
Dee, but suspected this wasn't their first time.

Victor and Katie sure weren't holding back. Victor had his hands
firmly on Hank's cock and ass; Katie was inverted on the floor with
Dee as they ate each other's pussy. Cynthia pressed her thigh between
Lisa's legs and rubbed hard against her pussy. I had to stand with
Lisa's legs apart both for balance and to admit Cynthia's embrace.
Dan was kissing my cock as Lisa massaged his balls.

I heard scratching on the windows and looked up to see lizards
crawling everywhere. They were a common type in the area, about six
inches long. Cynthia dropped to the floor and opened her legs to me;
I lowered Lisa's body over Cynthia's and spread her bush with Lisa's
fingers. Soon I was tonguing her clitoris as she did the same for
Lisa's. Katie, Dee, Lisa, and Dan were also in the sixty-nine
position but Victor had his cock in Hank's butt and his hands on
Hank's cock, which had swelled to enormous length. There must have
been hundreds of lizards outside because I heard them running across
the roof and walls.

Suddenly, everyone in the room gasped at once and we all came. I
sensed being outside with four short limbs instead of Lisa's normal
arms and legs, and my vision seemed greatly distorted. I was cumming
with another creature, not human but reptilian. There was no sense of
being warm or cold, just of being present. Altogether, the experience
seemed to last several minutes, during which the other creature
inseminated me several times. I returned to Lisa's body rather
suddenly and became disoriented. Judging from the reactions of the
others, they too were confused.

I started looking for new tattoos but didn't see any. Suddenly,
though, Dee looked at her hand and screamed. I quickly checked Lisa's
hands and found, as Dee had, that her fingernails were greatly
changed. First, they were black. Second, they extended three-
quarters of an inch from Lisa's finger tips. Third, they were round
and curved instead of flat. Essentially, Lisa's fingers ended in
lizard claws! A few of the multicolored zebra acrylic nails were
still hanging on loosely but the rest had fallen off.

By this time, everyone was holding their hands in front of their eyes.
I don't think anyone could believe what happened but as I looked at
the claws Lisa's pussy started getting moist again. I dropped Lisa's
hands to her lap and accidentally scratched her thigh. Katie sat up
and started rapping her claws on the glass coffee table. Victor got a
bottle of beer from the kitchen and used a claw to pop the cap off.

"Actually, this might not be too bad," he remarked. "I'll never have
to search for a bottle opener again."

Dan and Dee left first, with Dee still staring at her hands. Cynthia
ran a claw over Hank's cock and caused everyone to get aroused again,
then both of them left for their rooms. Katie was still rapping her
claws on the coffee table.

Claws. Idly, I ran Lisa's thumb claw across the others and made
clicking sounds. These really were Lisa's fingernails! I thought
about just chopping them off but there seemed to be soft flesh inside.
Also, that would leave hard, dark circles at the ends of Lisa's
fingers and no visible nails at all. What used to be the flat nail
area was now completely covered by skin.

Lisa stood up to get a bottle of Perrier from the kitchen. "This
isn't much different from having acrylic nails," she said. "You have
to do everything with the bottoms and sides of your fingers." She
didn't seem greatly upset and flipped open the cap with one claw.

"Typing is going to be a problem," Katie noted.

"It won't be any worse than I'm already used to. For that matter, I
used to know a secretary who typed with the tips of her nails," I
volunteered. "I'm more worried about the reactions of people I meet."

"No problem there, Doug. I'm sure we'll keep freaking people out no
matter what our nails look like," said Lisa. She became agitated as
she spoke and shattered the Perrier bottle. Katie carefully stepped
into the kitchen and returned with a broom and dustpan.

"Lisa, how did you break that bottle? Was it cracked?" I asked.

"I don't know, Doug. It couldn't have been cracked because the
carbonation was still OK. I didn't squeeze it very hard, though."

Picking up the pieces of sharp glass was difficult with claws getting
in the way. It was surprising that Lisa's hand wasn't cut. I grabbed
a few more bottles of Perrier and suggested we all step outside.
Holding a bottle over the trash can, I squeezed Lisa's hand and
shattered it. Victor and Katie tried the same stunt and shattered two
bottles easily. No one's hands were cut in the slightest.

"I'm beginning to think we've acquired unusual strength in our hands,"
I announced. "Can anyone think of another test?"

Katie went inside and brought out several items. First, she poked her
palm with a barbecue fork. Nothing happened, although she applied
considerable pressure. Next she asked Victor to poke her with a
paring knife. Victor started by applying gentle pressure and ended
with a violent stab from a foot away. Katie was unharmed. Next,
Katie squeezed an unopened can of nacho sauce until the top blew off
and cheese flew into the grass.

It was obvious we had all acquired incredible hand strength and very
tough but normal-looking skin. I tried lifting the trash can and
sensed normal resistance. Victor poked the knife into his forearm and
quickly drew a drop of blood. Obviously, the changes were limited to
our hands.

"Well, now what?" I asked.

"I guess we'll have to be very careful shaking hands with people.
Other than that, I'm going to bed," said Victor.

Lisa and I returned to our room and, with great difficulty, got ready
for bed. Removing the smaller pieces of jewelry was tricky, and I
nearly poked Lisa's eye several times cleaning off makeup. I ruined
my tube of toothpaste by poking three claw holes into it. Someone
must have been screwing as we drifted off to sleep, because my cock
sprang to attention and Lisa's pussy got wet. Suddenly, we were both
cumming even though we had done nothing but doze.

"Damn, I hate wet sheets," said Lisa, then we fell asleep.

Chapter 59. Real Estate Friday, Week 6

In the morning we awoke cumming again. I think it was Victor and
Katie because Dee and Hank were already going about their chores. We
ran, rinsed in the hot tub, and got ready for breakfast. Lisa's body
had gained another two pounds. Lisa got really angry with me for
continuing to gain weight, putting her body twelve pounds over
optimum. I promised to do everything I could. I was back to square
one putting on jewelry and makeup because of the claws; it took almost
an hour even though I avoided anything with small clasps. I snapped
two makeup brushes in half by accident.

Smooth and Clipper were already eating. They glanced at our hands but
didn't say anything; I suppose they'd already spoken with Dan, who was
serving. Lisa took diced melon and found it amusing to spear each
piece with my forefinger. I had a third of a cup of plain yogurt.
Cynthia and Spike were at a table nearer the house, looking through
some of Spike's African books.

Pokey and the Kahrs arrived at the same time. Pokey just about lost
it when she saw Katie's claws; in turn, Katie was so surprised by
Pokey's reaction that she shattered the glass of orange juice she was
carrying. Dan had to hose down the patio while Katie rinsed off in
the pool shower.

Smooth thought it was all quite amusing, but she kept her legs
crossed. I wanted to chat with her until she had to get up, no matter
what the reason, but Victor and I both needed to talk with Cynthia
about real estate. Of course, Smooth pushed back her chair and headed
toward the house the instant I turned toward Cynthia.

By now, Cynthia was going crazy about not being decorated. Spike was
explaining how African women subject themselves to small flesh wounds
and then irritate the area with herbs during healing. The result is a
raised welt of scar tissue an eighth to a quarter inch in diameter.
The welts are applied in various patterns, according to local custom.
Cynthia was considering various patterns on her thighs, stomach,
breasts, back, arms, and face. Spike wasn't very confident about the
procedure but Cynthia was fascinated.

Victor needed advice on real estate agents. He wanted to inquire
about the price and zoning of the acreage next to the estate, plus
those of other properties. Cynthia went into Spike's study and wrote
out the names of several agents she trusted. In the meantime, Spike
noticed that two of the books Cynthia was reading were written by
African culture experts located in San Francisco; he suggested that
she speak to them personally before asking him to perform an
unfamiliar procedure.

Victor and Katie asked Clipper where to rent a car and he insisted
they take his Mercedes for the day. Smooth used her car to drive
Clipper, Hank, and Cynthia to Essence Alley. Hank was headed for
Tress & Less, Skin Deep, and Piercing Scream. Cynthia had an early
appointment with Zach Fulton.

Bonnie called at about eight o'clock and was fabulously impressed with
the floor plans Qubie and Walt had put together. To get things moving
quickly, she proposed doing the remodeling at her expense and
recovering the cost through rent. The figures she quoted were
reasonable and I could tell she wasn't making much of a profit on the
remodeling. However, she had access to a lot more credit that
CosmaTech did. I was sure Quixotic didn't want to end up owning the
remodeling fixtures, either. Bonnie said she would ask Robin to make
up the contracts and leases, and I readily agreed. Lisa accepted the
same terms for Fit & Trim.

Hank dropped us off at the moving company and we signed for our cars.
They were dusty but in good condition. The movers had put the boxes
marked "immediately delivery" in my trunk. We confirmed the
instructions to put our furniture and old clothes into storage, then
drove separately to Essence Alley. I found a parking spot after only
five minutes but Lisa, driving my larger car, had to search for almost
half an hour.

We met Hank for lunch, although I didn't eat anything. His hair was
now a flat top that disappeared to almost nothing on the very top,
sides, and back. On his chest Drew Picshire had inked the outline of
Samson, nude, pushing Hank's nipples apart with all his might. Hank
figured he would take a break by getting some jewelry put in after
lunch, then head back to Skin Deep. He said Cynthia had taken a cab
after finishing at Fulton's Follicle.

Lisa spent the afternoon with Walt Bohrdweihst searching for bargains
in used exercise equipment. I stopped by Tress & Less to use the
phone and was greeted by Smooth.

"Hi, Doug. Welcome to the ranks of the hairless! I suppose Clipper
and I should regret the loss of business, but there are still plenty
of other heads to conquer. Need any help throwing out shampoo,
conditioner, brushes, shavers, whatever?"

"Hi, Smooth. We decided to keep our hair for a while, but then Lisa
changed her mind at the last minute. You and I don't seem to be the
only ones, though. I've seen several hairless women this morning.
Can I use the phone?"

Of course, she said it was OK. In addition, Smooth told me that
Georgie had been calling around looking for me. I called Robin's
office immediately. Georgie said Robin and Bonnie would be ready to
sign the leases for Quixotic, CosmaTech, and Fit & Trim at four
o'clock; construction could then begin Monday morning. I was sure I
could contact Lisa by using Walt Bohrdweihst's beeper number, which
was listed on his business card, so I told Georgie to schedule the
meeting. I beeped Walt and punched in the number of Tress & Less's
second line.

There were two messages on the guest house answering machine; in the
first, Phylen Tipe said she would be arriving in San Francisco on
Monday and asked if she could come over to visit. I called Directory
Assistance to get Phylen's home number, dialed, and recorded the guest
house phone number and directions to the estate on her answering
machine. The second message was a doozey; Hal O'Graff said he and
Carla were in a total panic and were leaving Florida in their motor
home immediately. He wanted me to beep him through his Sky Pager and
then wait at least an hour for him to call back. I beeped him
immediately and gave him the main number at Tress & Less.

Walt called back five minutes later and passed the phone to Lisa. She
said being at Robin's office at four o'clock would not be a problem.

I spent the next hour in the waiting area watching people come and go.
Smooth's customers had long elaborate hairstyles that just needed
minor touch-ups. Clipper had a few touch-up jobs too, but most of his
customers walked in with conservative clothes and normal hairstyles.
They paged through the style books and walked out twenty minutes later
with Mohawks, spots, and various other designs. Of five customers,
two were men with new earrings, one was a guy with no jewelry, and two
were women. Both women had earrings but I couldn't tell if they were
new.

An hour and a quarter after I beeped him, Hal called back.

"Doug, we're driving to Chicago. I tried calling Dr. Bohnes but he's
out of town. Your Dr. Damihnd is unavailable, too. What's going on
there? Why did you ask me about animal dreams?"

"Calm down, Hal. This line is very noisy. Where are you calling
from?"

"I've pulled up to a roadside phone. We can't get out of the motor
home. Now, where are you and why did you call me about animal
dreams?"

An Italian-looking woman in expensive clothes looked up from her style
book and began watching me. I turned my back to her and hunched over
the counter top. "We've moved to San Francisco, Hal. Lisa and I
tried group sex with her parents and two other people Wednesday
evening. A flock of birds gathered outside the window, and when we
all came together, I sensed being a bird for a second. In addition,
all six of us ended up with a identical bird tattoos on our forearms."

"San Francisco! Good grief, I've been driving toward Chicago. What
time did all this happen?" Hal asked urgently. The woman was still
watching me.

"Oh, I suppose about ten o'clock. Why?" I asked.

"That would be 1:00 A.M. in Florida. It fits. Go on, Doug."

"Well, last night two more people joined us. As you know, Lisa and I
are sort of between sexes. Four of the other people turned out to be
bisexual, and that's how we did it: male bodies with male, female
bodies with female. Somehow, we attracted a mass of lizards outside.
When we came, I felt like a lizard during mating. Afterward, everyone
discovered they had pointed claws instead of normal fingernails." The
woman in the expensive clothes was really staring now, especially at
Lisa's hands.

"Doug, was that at ten o'clock also?" asked Hal, obviously shaken.

"Yes, I suppose so. Why?"

"Carla and I have been affected too, in ways you can possibly imagine.
It happened in our sleep; we had strange dreams that woke us up at
about one o'clock. I wish I could find Dr. Bohnes."

"He's supposed to be arriving here today. I can't help you with Dr.
Damihnd, though. Claude Storm doesn't have a phone, but maybe you
could ask someone at the visitor center to find him."

"Doug, when you see the doctor, please ask him to beep me. I tried
the visitor center, but either Claude has left or they can't find him.
I think we'll get to San Francisco sometime Wednesday. We can't
possibly stay at a hotel or campground. Do you know where we can park
the motor home there?"

I was sure Pokey wouldn't mind sharing her hookup for a few days and
gave Hal directions to the estate. When I asked about Carla, Hal just
said she was bearing up well under the circumstances. He didn't want
to talk any more so I promised to give his Sky Pager number to Saul
and we hung up.

At five o'clock I met Hank and Lisa in front of Piercing Scream. Hank
drove us home in Smooth's car, explaining that Clipper and Smooth
would ride home later with Spike. Dinner was already served when we
arrived at the estate, so Lisa and I just undressed by the pool, took
a quick dip, and walked over to the serving table. Still needing to
lose twelve pounds, I just had a few tablespoons of mixed vegetables
and mineral water. Lisa had a rib steak and home fried potatoes.

Saul and Wanda Bohnes had arrived during the day and were already
seated. Since they were nude, I prepared myself for the shock of
watching Saul's mouth speak from Wanda's chest. Instead, I found them
both speaking and eating normally. Wanda had two perfectly matched
breasts, both firmer and more attractive than the one I remembered.

"Hello, Dr. Bohnes, Wanda. I'm glad to see you've straightened things
out," Lisa greeted them.

The woman swallowed what was in her mouth and smiled. "Hello, hello.
Yes, Dr. Damihnd has done wonders for us. He discovered the second
cavern, you know," she said.

"No, I hadn't heard," I replied. "What happened with you two?"

"Well, the second cavern is much larger, Doug, and it has crystals
everywhere. Light from the sun and moon can be focused down its
chimney by means of a movable fixture at the top. Dr. Damihnd
specified the time, selected the table, and aligned the crystals.
Wanda used my mouth to suck her remaining breast, and I simultaneously
came on her face. It was quite ingenious, really."

It occurred to me that Wanda was describing Saul's experience as her
own. "Which of you is Wanda, please?" I asked.

Saul's hand rose and Wanda's remained still. As I suspected, they'd
completely switched bodies.

"Have either of you felt compelled to remove your hair, get tattooed,
or implant pierced jewelry?" Lisa asked.

"No, Ada warned us that might happen but so far it hasn't. I'm
pregnant though," said Saul.

This was the most frightening thing I could imagine. "When did it
happen? Didn't you take precautions?" I asked.

"Yes, we took precautions, but not in the cavern. Allen Damihnd
advised against it. Which of you is Doug? Ah, I see. You're looking
a little pale under that makeup, Doug. Perhaps I should examine you,"
Saul offered.

I declined the offer but realized I hadn't experienced a menstrual
period since inhabiting Lisa's body. It had been over four weeks
since her body had a period, but of course, a lot had happened to it.

The Bohnes said they had a nice room in Pearson's house but they
joined us for drinks at the guest house. The Kahrs arrived just in
time to say hello and rush to dinner. Saul told us more about the
second cavern, explaining that over a hundred narratives had been
discovered. Many of these involved animals. Saul examined our claws
closely and proclaimed them to be works of art.

When the Kahrs returned, Victor made everyone a round of drinks and
explained that the land adjoining the estate was zoned to become
either a resort or a planned community. He was enthusiastic about the
location and said the price was among the better deals he'd reviewed
in San Francisco or elsewhere.

At nine-thirty Hank rushed in and excitedly told everyone to make way
for Cynthia. Sensing his panic, we immediately rushed outside and
looked around An unfamiliar van pulled up and two black men dressed
only in white shorts removed a stretcher on which Cynthia lay face
down, unconscious. Her head was completely bald and her entire back
was bloody with small round incisions.

"Are you the doctor?" Hank asked Wanda. It was a natural mistake.

"No, I am," said Saul. "What happened to this woman?"

An old black man in African robes entered the room. "She insisted I
pierce her body in many ways and decorate her back as you see it. I
warned her that the body could not take such pain, but she assured me
that magic healing was available to her. Now, I am concerned for her
life. Please do not let her die," he said in a thick accent.

"I'll sue you to hell and back if she does," said Hank.

"I have consent forms notarized to hell and back if you do," said the
African. "However, I wish no one to die before their time. There is
nothing more for me to do. Thank you." With that, he jumped into the
back of the van and his men drove away.

"What kind of magic healing was he talking about?" asked Saul with a
squeak in Wanda's voice.

"Well, it's group sex. We've done it for the last two nights and both
times any new piercings and tattoos were instantly healed," Victor
explained. Hank was telephoning the Tweedles.

"Well, Saul and I will leave you all alone, then," said Wanda.

"Please don't," Lisa asked suddenly. "Both nights, someone new was
present and none of us stayed with our normal partner. In fact, last
night we matched cock to cock and pussy to pussy. We have to save
Cynthia."

Just then, the Tweedles arrived. Being the doctor, Saul began tending
to Cynthia. I had to avoid both Katie and Lisa, and therefore cuddled
Dee with a full body embrace. Hank claimed Wanda and Dan paired off
with Victor. This left Lisa and Katie a mixed sex couple. After a
moment's hesitation, Lisa joined Dan and Victor. Katie decided Saul
and Cynthia might need more than four hands and joined them.

Katie and Saul pulled Cynthia partially off the stretcher so Saul
could put Wanda's hand on Cynthia's pussy. Katie gently stroked
Cynthia's unblemished side with one hand. Saul put Wanda's hand on
Katie's breast, Katie returned the favor, and both started alternating
kisses with each other and the back of Cynthia's head.

By now, Dee had her face buried in Lisa's chest. I massaged Dee's
shoulders and stroked her sides and breasts lightly. Lisa, Dan, and
Victor were standing in a circle, each stroking the cock to their
right and the butt to their left. Occasionally, they moved closer
together to touch and kiss. Wanda was rubbing Hank's large muscles
and she pressed Saul's cock against his thigh.

Soon, there was too much activity to keep track of. Dee's body was
firm and supple; her breasts warm and pointed. We shifted to one
side, interlocking thighs and grinding pussies. Dee kissed Lisa's
mouth deeply and we tongue kissed violently. I began to hear
scratching outside the door but couldn't see the cause.

Briefly I looked at Cynthia and saw that her breathing was raspy and
heavy. At that moment I became convinced that our efforts would
succeed. Dee intensified her efforts, rocking against Lisa's body
furiously. I hung on the edge of cumming for ten or fifteen seconds,
then all hell broke loose.

I was outside again, very close to the ground, being smothered by a
large furry shape. My orgasm was so strong that I barely saw anything
but tiny claws, a pointed nose, and whiskers. The ecstasy went on
minute after minute, constantly building in strength. There were
furry bodies all around but I barely noticed. Finally, I lost my
senses completely and experienced silence, darkness, and fury all at
once. A brilliant light exploded and I found myself lying on the
floor of the guest house.

Cautiously, I looked over at Cynthia. She was sitting up on the
stretcher and gingerly flexing her arms and back. Bone carvings as
thick as a pencil were pierced through her ears, nose, and nipples.
Slowly, she stood and turned, showing everyone her exquisitely
decorated back. Looking almost like beads, perfectly rounded welts
formed a pattern of lines extending from her shoulders to her ass
cheeks. The lines bunched together gracefully at her waist, forming a
")(" design. A smooth tail dropped below her knees and swung
gracefully from side to side.

"Cynthia, what on Earth is it like to have a tail?" Wanda asked.

"Stand up and tell me," answered Cynthia.

Wanda was staring at Saul's hands, which had become clawed like
everyone else's. Quickly, she got up and looked behind Saul's hips;
indeed, there was a skin-covered tail extending from Saul's butt to
his calves. She gasped and the tail immediately twitched. Wanda put
Saul's hands over his face and sat on the couch, then immediately
shouted out in pain and rolled to one side. Soon the rest of us were
walking around the room examining each other's tails and feeling our
own.

Each person's tail began at the top of their butt and ended about a
foot above the floor. Depending on the person's overall size, most of
the tails were about two inches thick at the top and narrowed to an
inch at the bottom. I reached between Lisa's thighs and grabbed her
tail with her hand; I could feel it being touched even though my mind
told me there couldn't possibly be flesh there. The tip of the tail
was the most sensitive, like the end of a finger. Someone startled me
by tapping Lisa's shoulder and her tail flew out of her hand. When I
looked over her shoulder, though, no one was there.

I was looking around the room again when I felt another tap. No one
was there but Lisa, and she was facing away from me. A moment later I
looked again and saw my tail rising toward Lisa's shoulder.

"Where'd you learn that trick?" I asked her.

"Right here, of course. I haven't been anyplace else with your new
toy," she replied. "It helps to watch in the mirror. Why don't you
try it?"

Hank was using the mirror by the front door so I moved to the dressing
mirror inside the bedroom closet. The tail looked absolutely
impossible attached to the top of Lisa's butt, although I tried to
convince myself it was really part of her body now. I tried various
thoughts and mental commands, which mostly resulted in simple
twitching of Lisa's butt and legs. Finally, though, I managed to slap
the tail against her thigh. With further practice I was able to slap
it against either thigh and to flick it around Lisa's leg so I could
catch it in front.

I tried sitting on the bed with Lisa's tail between her legs, but
there was no comfortable position. Letting it trail off to the side
or back was much better. I noticed that the tip of the tail could
reach Lisa's pussy easily but before I could explore further Dee came
into the room carrying two daiquiris. She handed one to me and set
the other on the dresser.

"It seems we keep bumping into each other tonight," said Dee standing
in front of the mirror. She began twitching her butt and hips much as
I had, then finally succeeded in jerking her tail about. "There must
be a use for this thing, but I can't figure out what it is," she
commented.

At that point, I grabbed Lisa's tail, which was laying across her
thigh, and tried inserting it into her pussy. It felt good. I picked
up the daiquiri and called out, "Look, ma, no hands."

Dee smiled back at me. She was getting the hang of her tail pretty
good, so to speak. She could touch the tip to her knees, hips, and
shoulders at will. I was getting quite proficient at massaging Lisa's
pussy when Dee walked over to the bed, curved her tail forward between
her legs, and held our her arms. Standing, I rested Lisa's wrists on
Dee's shoulders and aimed her tail at Dee's pussy. Dee put her hands
on Lisa's waist and soon we were coupled. When I glanced down, the
impossible scene reminded me more of fuel lines at the airport than a
sexual encounter, but Lisa's pussy sure felt like it was being fucked.

We remained standing a foot apart and clawed each other lightly,
paying particular attention to breasts, hips, and sides. Dee looked
fabulous in brown and gold makeup, chains and rings over most of her
face, and of course her spot haircut. I ran Lisa's hand backwards
over Dee's stubble and she smiled at my attention. Finally Dee began
massaging Lisa's nipples deeply with her claws while vibrating her
tail rapidly in Lisa's pussy. I did the same for Dee and moments
later everyone in the guest house shouted.

Lisa and Dan had sneaked into the room without my noticing. Dan had
his hand on my cock and his tail in my asshole. Lisa had my hands and
tail in a similar position on Dan. Both had cum on their thighs.
Victor, Hank, Wanda, Katie, Cynthia, and Saul were watching from the
door, faces flushed. Cum dripped from the first three. Dee looked
around at everyone before announcing, "Hey, folks, having a tail might
not be so bad. Try it, you'll like it!"

Those with male bodies were drained, so to speak, but we spent another
hour coaching each other on tail exercises. Finally, everyone drifted
off to their rooms. Lisa and I removed our makeup and loose jewelry,
rinsed in the hot tub, and drifted off to sleep. I had to sleep on
Lisa's side to avoid pinching her tail and tits.

Chapter 60. Body Building Saturday, Week 6

Something felt drastically wrong when I woke up Saturday morning, but
of course it was just Lisa's tail. I took a quick shower because I
had to piss anyway, then did tail exercises while Lisa freshened
herself up. As usual. we started our laps around the estate before
putting on our jewelry and makeup. I put on Lisa's running shoes, she
wore mine, and soon we were jogging around the inner drive. We had to
hold our tails up to keep from kicking them.

"Did you weigh my body this morning?" Lisa asked.

I hated to give her the answer. "Yes, I did. The scale said 123
pounds. That means I've put a total of eighteen pounds onto your
body. How could it gain six pounds in a day? You saw everything I
ate; it was less than a pound of food!"

"Well, I suppose the tail weighs several pounds. I have a confession
to make, Doug. Your body has put on twenty-five pounds. Even so, I
can't pinch fat anywhere. Something else is going on. Tell me: does
your cock look any different to you?" Lisa asked.

My cock was bouncing around quite a bit as Lisa jogged but I did
notice a change. "It looks bigger," I answered.

"I think so, too," said Lisa. "I thought it looked bigger yesterday
but just couldn't be sure because, you know, it keeps changing size
all the time. I think my tits are bigger and firmer, too."

After she mentioned it, I did notice that her tits were bouncing less
than normal as we ran. "You're right. Maybe there have been changes
beyond the claws and tails." I suggested.

"Lets keep an eye on it and avoid orgies for a few days. We're still
engaged to each other, Doug; we shouldn't always have sex with other
people," Lisa urged. After our usual five miles we did another three
then ran straight into the pool. Ten laps later we dried off and
chose breakfast.

Katie and Victor were already seated on a plain bench. Victor's tail
was on the deck but Katie had hers draped over her thigh. Both of
them were stabbing diced melon with their claws.

"Good morning, Lisa and Doug," said Victor. "Have you thought about
going out today?"

We tried sitting in cushioned chairs but couldn't find a place for our
tails. Lisa dragged over another bench. "Going out is a problem,
Dad. I was supposed to meet another rental agent this morning but I
haven't got a thing to wear. At least Doug can wear a skirt," said
Lisa. Actually, I still didn't like wearing skirts and dresses even
though Lisa's body looked good in them.

"We're going to Ann's Hides and Fitting Touch this morning," said
Victor. "I was thinking of getting a skirt for myself: maybe
something in leather, short enough to look like a waiter's or a
cobbler's apron."

"How's Mera's initiative in Illinois coming along?" Katie asked.

"It passed, but now there's a court challenge," said Smooth, who had
just arrived. I was looking at Victor when she approached and sat
down. "There was a story about it in this morning's Examiner. The
governor and legislative party leaders appeared nude on television for
the signing. The governor and his wife just got their piercings and
haircuts the day before. There are no more clothing stores in
Stratford Estates; even J. C. Penny and Carson Pirie Scott have
switched exclusively to makeup, jewelry, haircuts, and tattoos. Vidal
Sassoon is moving into electrolysis and Nieman-Marcus is advertising
matching sets of engraved gold rings for the ears, nose, nipples, and
genitals."

"What about the court initiative?" asked Lisa.

"Oh, the garment workers' union filed a federal lawsuit in Washington
D.C. It won't work, though. Seven supreme court justices showed up
decorated yesterday. The First Lady got her thighs and butt tattooed
to match the President, according to reporters who saw them strolling
in the Rose Garden yesterday."

"I hadn't heard that the President was affected," Victor remarked.
"What did he have done?"

"Well, when he and The First Lady stand side by side, their butts form
a replica of Mount Rushmore. Their thighs depict a redwood forest,
and their backs portray the Gulf Stream waters."

"Maybe we should start an activist movement here," suggested Dan, who
was bringing Smooth her coffee.

"Are you thinking of a campus revolt?" Smooth asked.

"Actually, that's not a bad thought. I'm meeting with some friends
this afternoon; maybe we'll talk about it. I haven't given any
speeches at Berkeley Square lately," said Dan.

Dee, Hank, and Cynthia came out wagging their tails behind them,
filled their own plates, and sat at another table. Saul and Wanda
were about to call them over when I explained their service
arrangement with the Strands and Pearsons. Smooth stood up and
started walking toward the house as I watched Cynthia arrange her
tail. I was beginning to lose all hope.

I enjoyed the warm breeze with Lisa and her parents until Saul and
Wanda appeared. Excusing myself for a moment, I jogged back to the
guest house and returned with Hal O'Graff's pager number and the two
copies of my prospectus. When the Bohnes were finished eating I gave
Saul Hal's pager number and asked him to call soon, even though it
didn't seem to be an emergency.

Lisa rolled my eyes as I began presenting the prospectus to her
parents and the Bohnes. Both Victor and Saul were impressed by Zach's
profits to date and felt the process would surely gain in popularity.
Katie liked the cosmetic aspect of it, and Wanda was certain that more
high-tech treatments would be discovered.

Saul brought up another point. "Since we completed our body exchange,
practicing medicine has been extremely awkward. Of course, everyone
thinks I'm Wanda, not the doctor. I see the patients first and try to
examine them while taking their weight and blood pressure. Then I
meet Wanda in the hall, tell her where to look, and stand by while she
repeats the exam. Of course, I can't give her instructions in front
of the patient, and I can't look over my shoulder to see everything
she does. A few patients walked out and I had to send several more to
another doctor just because I couldn't complete the examination. I
can't see nearly as many patients, because I have to be the nurse and
the doctor, too."

"Can't you get relicensed?" asked Katie.

"I'd have to go through medical school in Wanda's body. That would
take years, then I'd have to serve a residency again. No thanks. I'm
looking for a new line of work. Maybe this is it."

"You know, Saul, Spike used to be a surgeon but the pressure got to
him and now he just does body piercing. Maybe you'd like to talk with
him," I suggested.

"Does he have a shop? Perhaps we could meet him there and look
around," suggested Katie.

Just then, Spike and Pokey came out for breakfast. The Kahrs and
Pearsons were soon into a lively discussion so Lisa and walked over to
chat with the others. They, too, had found that sitting on benches
with tails on thighs was the most comfortable position.

"Has anybody figured out what to wear?" Lisa asked.

"It's a damn nuisance, isn't it? Maybe we should all move to
Illinois," said Dee.

"Dan is talking about organizing a campus movement here," I mentioned.

"I tried my baggiest pair of pants, but they still weren't
comfortable. I wanted to go out and get more tattoos today, but maybe
I'll have to stay here," said Hank.

"Skirts and dresses are best for female bodies," said Lisa. "My dad
is thinking about a leather or canvas skirt that looks like a
tradesman's apron."

"Men could always wear Mickey Mouse pants; you know, with a flap in
the back," suggested Dee.

"How about cutting it off?" suggested Hank.

Everyone gave him a blank stare. After a moment, Lisa said, "Well, I
suppose that's an option. I feel like keeping it for a while, though,
just to see what happens. Also, other things are happening. Doug and
I have been increasing our running speed at a phenomenal rate. This
morning we did ten miles in forty-five minutes. Doug's cock is
getting bigger and my tits are getting bigger and firmer. So far,
none of the changes have been harmful, just bizarre. I don't want to
interfere with the process, whatever it is."

The next thing I knew, I was laying on Lisa's back and Saul was bent
over me. Wanda's hair had become tangled in a couple of earrings and
was pulling at Lisa's ear. "What happened?" I asked.

"You fainted, Doug. Has this happened before?" Saul asked.

"Never in my life," I replied, sitting up.

"Not to me, either," Lisa contributed.

"Well, it looks like malnutrition to me. Have you been dieting,
Doug?" Saul wanted to know.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. Lisa's body is eighteen pounds over what
it weighed before the changes. She doesn't want me fattening it up,"
I explained.

"I think it's bone and muscle, Doug. You both seem more heavily built
and muscular than I remember. Spike, is there a fax machine here?
Yes? OK, I'm going to call my office and have your records sent here.
In the meantime, I suggest you both follow an athletic nutrition plan
and monitor fat ratio, not total weight. Is there a way to do that?"

"I have a tank and a computer for fat ratio," said Hank. "I'm gaining
weight too, in all the right places. Three inches on my pectorals,
two on my thighs, and one on my biceps. My cock is two inches longer
and I grew an inch taller."

"Right now, you should eat a good breakfast, Doug, then let's go over
and measure you. Actually, I think everyone involved should start
keeping measurements," Saul urged.

Dan served me up some oatmeal, bananas, orange juice, bran muffins,
and smoked salmon. Lisa watched me gobble it up with amusement. Saul
used the cordless phone to call his office and get our records faxed.
Cynthia got some notebooks from Spike's study and everyone followed
Hank to his workout area. Cynthia also brought the records from the
last physical exams Spike gave everyone at the estate.

Victor, Katie, Dee, Dan, Hank, Cynthia, Lisa, and I all had a very low
percentage of body fat. The male bodies had grown about an inch
taller, while the female bodies had gained roughly three quarters of
an inch. Average cock size was ten inches long and two inches thick,
relaxed. Breast size ranged from C-cup to D, all very firm. Spike
and Saul measured everyone's height, weight, chest, waist, hips,
thighs, calves, neck, biceps, and tail while Pokey and Wanda filled
out the charts. Saul wanted to give me a pregnancy test but I felt it
was impossible and told him not to bother.

"Well, now what?" asked Katie.

"I'm putting on a bathrobe and heading down to Fitting Touch and Ann's
Hides," said Victor.

"I'll see you there after I work out," Hank decided.

"We're meeting friends after lunch. I have a skirt that fits me,"
said Dan.

"Well, I agreed to call this Hal O'Graff," said Saul. Can anyone wait
for us?"

"We'll wait. I have a few calls to make myself," I volunteered.

"I'm staying here. In fact, that's probably Drubla now. I'll be
right back," said Cynthia. A truck of some kind was honking at the
front gate. Minutes later, the van that brought Cynthia home Friday
night was backing up the service drive to the pool deck. The same old
man wearing different robes emerged, as did his two assistants. When
they saw everyone else was nude, they tossed their wraps back into the
van. The old man was welted over his back, chest, and thighs.

"Everyone, this is Drubla Tribeula, a tribal doctor and expert on
African customs. I've hired him to decorate my body. You are free to
watch. Drubla, can we start?"

Drubla's men set two patio benches together under an umbrella, then
spread out two towels for Cynthia to sit on. He took no notice of her
tail but carefully inspected the healed welts on her back. Hank
brought out one of Spike's photo books and opened it to a bookmark.
There, a woman was shown with a welted pattern spiraling around her
arm like a snake and ending with a viper's head on the back of her
palm. Cynthia told Drubla she wanted the spiral reversed so the lines
that ended on her shoulder blades could extend over her shoulders,
under her armpits, and then down her arms.

Drubla traced the pattern over Cynthia's left arm with a white paint
stick, then one of his men held a mirror for her inspection. Cynthia
asked for a few changes, then Drubla began. From his bag he removed a
cordless hobby drill and inserted a small circular saw blade. Hank
rushed forward to stop more from happening but Cynthia held up her
hand and Drubla's men blocked him. Fascinated, I watched Drubla cut a
tiny wound into Cynthia's skin and then work powder of some kind into
it. The bleeding stopped in less than a minute, then Drubla made
another incision. Cynthia's eyes were closed, as if in meditation.
The pain must have been intense.

Spike had disappeared into the house and returned with anesthetic and
antiseptic. Drubla paused while Spike shot the anesthetic into
Cynthia's arm but refused the antiseptic, saying the powder he used
also prevented infection.

The spectacle was gruesome as well as fascinating. "Cynthia, how can
you stand it?" Pokey asked.

"Well, tattoos hurt too. In some villages they still use sharp reeds
and cut glass; would that be better? Drubla says this is less painful
and produces better results," she replied.

"That anesthetic is going to wear off and you can't keep taking it all
day, or day after day. If you must do this, go slowly," Spike
cautioned.

Saul and I went inside to use the phone, Lisa and Wanda stayed with
Cynthia, and everyone else left for Essence Alley. I tried to call
both Allen Damihnd and Ada Kamp but could only leave messages on their
machines. Next I called Priscilla Strate, who was at home. She was
still interested in working for CosmaTech and invited me over to her
apartment to discuss it. I wasn't in the mood for another discipline
scene and asked her to suggest somewhere else. She proposed a
restaurant on Pier 41 called Charming Beau Quay. The name of the
place had a certain ring to it.

Lisa was trying to find something she could wear but wasn't having
much luck. In the end, so to speak, she cut a hole in the back of
some old shorts and tied a long-sleeved T-shirt around her waist. I
wore a tiered denim miniskirt and a black leather bikini top that
never covered much even before Lisa's breasts grew.

Both wearing long T-shirts, Saul and Wanda poked their heads into the
guest house just as we were finishing our makeup. They watched in
amusement as we began hanging earrings, threading chains, and choosing
rings and necklaces. Lisa drove my car so everyone could be
comfortable but it took quite a while for everyone to get their tails
positioned. I had to position it just right between the seat cushions
then curve it up across my thigh. I asked Saul what Hal wanted to
talk about, but Saul said he was bound by doctor-patient secrecy.

We had to park six blocks from Essence Alley. The other pedestrians
looked ridiculous as they pointed, stared, and fainted. Maybe they
thought it was odd that Saul and Wanda didn't have makeup on; I don't
know.

Victor, Katie, and Hank were already at Fitting Touch. Ann Reghatti
and her tailor, Seymour Hemlein, were taking the tails as a
professional challenge. They had a flipchart standing in Seymour's
workshop with design options listed in large printing:

1.Baggy shorts.
2.Full skirt.
3.Pocket slit.
4.Open slit.
5.Slit from waist.
6.Slit from crotch.
7.Slit from hem line.

Options 1, 4, 6, and 7 were crossed out. Ann explained that baggy
shorts weren't comfortable for anyone's tail, especially when sitting.
In addition, Victor and Hank said their newly-lengthened cocks kept
getting pinched. Adding slits below or around the tail always seemed
to leave too much butt showing. This wasn't a problem for any of us
except that we didn't want to be arrested. This also eliminated the
obvious solution of just going nude.

Ann and Seymour had tried adding tool pockets to some heavy cotton
skirts done in masculine colors, but anything long enough to cover a
ten-inch cock tended to confine tail movement. A loose skirt was less
confining but more feminine. Victor, Hank, Wanda, and Lisa all
refused to consider tight-underwear.

Seymour was just bringing out a pair of baggy knee-length shorts with
a pocket slit in back: sort of an upside-down pocket with a hole in
it. Saul tried them on and said the flap was too tight for Wanda's
tail, so Seymour had to rip out the pocket and try again.

In a variation of the "slit from waist" idea, Ann tried cutting out
the upper back of a pair of belted cotton and spandex shorts. She cut
the seat open just below the waist band and had me raise the shorts as
far as they would go. When I was able to pull them completely on, she
marked the tail position and chalked a curved V-line up to the
waistband, making a more-or-less triangular cutout below the belt
loops. Seymour arrived with Saul's shorts and left with mine.

In the end, Victor, Hank, Wanda, and Lisa all decided that long cocks
and pants definitely didn't go together, not even shorts. Ann
designed a tight beige cotton skirt for them with brown leather apron
pockets sewn into the front and a pocket flap in the back. All four
agreed this design was surprisingly comfortable and didn't look that
much like a skirt. It looked like a work apron in front and like
shorts in the back, since the tail tended to divide it in half. They
also bought denim skirts with tool pockets added in the front, a
hammer loop on the side, and extra fullness in the back. In addition,
Lisa bought a pleated tennis skirt off the rack.

I kept the V-back cutout shorts, of course, and had a pair of stretch
hot pants modified the same way; there wasn't much fabric left in back
but they sure were comfortable. Ann and Seymour promised to keep
thinking about our problem and to design more styles and colors.

Lisa's parents and Hank had more shopping to do. Lisa and I left them
at Essence Alley and headed over to Pier 41 for my meeting with
Priscilla. Lisa parked my car in a public garage and we headed for
the restaurant.

To our surprise, we saw quite a few decorated people on the wharf.
Sidewalk vendors were selling hand-made jewelry and artists were
tattooing people outdoors. The head waiter at Charming Beau Quay had
needles poked horizontally through his upper and lower lips, forming
an effect like cat whiskers. This was further accentuated by his
black, silver, and white makeup scheme and a typical assortment of
earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings. A tiger's head was
partially inked on his chest.

"We're here to meet Priscilla Strate. I believe she has a
reservation." Lisa stated.

"Let me see... Yes, she does. I just love your tails. I'd like one
myself; where did you get them?" I noticed a brass name tag hanging
from one necklace: Felix T. Katze.

"Thanks, Felix. We're still getting used to them. As for getting one
yourself, I'm sure it's not open to the public. Do you have a table
with open back chairs?" I replied.

"What? Oh yes, I see. Well, that won't be a problem. You can check
your clothing with the girl around the corner and then I'll seat you."

Not knowing what to expect, we stepped around the corner and found a
normal-looking coat check counter. Behind it was a Polynesian girl
wearing nothing but decorations. Her slinky black hair had been
completely removed except for a short narrow wedge on top and a
shoulder-length fall in back. Her body was covered in abstract tattoo
designs and jewelry made of shells and other objects from the sea.

"Hi, I'm Houlaimie. Wouldn't you like to get out of those things?"
the girl asked us. Another couple was casually stripping in the
hallway and handing each article to Houlaimie. It didn't take long.

Lisa shrugged, pulled the tennis skirt off my hips, and tossed it on
the counter. Similarly, I unsnapped the cutout hot pants and dropped
them to the floor. Houlaimie helped me untie the bra top covering
Lisa's tits and then handed me a claim check, which I put in Lisa's
purse.

We returned to Felix, who was explaining Charming Beau Quay's dress
code, such as it was, to a party of six blanks. The blanks just
didn't understand why anyone would prefer to get undressed for lunch;
they thought it was only for waitresses. The blanks took one look at
us standing there and left. Maybe they went out for haircuts; I don't
know.

Felix turned out to be nude too; I hadn't noticed it before. After a
while, you don't. He walked us into the main dining area, which
looked more like a marina than a restaurant. The tables resembled a
series of connected piers and boat slips threading through the entire
area. There were no chairs, just dark blue and green cushions
scattered randomly on a plush matching carpet. The lighting was dark,
with small pier lights spotted strategically. Felix showed us to a
slip, helped us find a comfortable cushion, and motioned to a waitress
who laid out place mats and settings. The cushions rocked gently and
I almost believed I was sitting in a boat.

"Hi, I'm Calico. We're glad you folks came in today; business is just
getting started, you know. Can I get you something from the bar?"
She had a striped brown and black Mohawk that began just above her
nose and four-inch whiskers at the side of her lips; the rest of her
body was completely hairless. Her ears seemed a little longer and
more pointed than usual, but it was hard to tell because of all the
jewelry hanging on them. A leaping cheetah was tattooed on her
stomach with the hind feet on her left hip and the front paws on her
right breast.

"Straight Scotch for me," said Lisa. "I like your haircut. When did
you decide to get it done?"

"Oh, about a week ago. I can't believe I use to let it hang and flop
all over my head. My hair stylist is swamped with people getting
short cuts," Calico replied.

"I'll have a daiquiri. Were you a nude dancer or waitress before?"

"No, I was a receptionist for a company that publishes Sunday school
books. They didn't like my haircut and jewelry, you know? I got
tired of wearing clothes, too. Scotch and a daiquiri, coming up."
Calico spun around and headed toward the bar. I couldn't resist a
look at her ass but found myself considering her tail instead.

Calico's tail was definitely more cat-like than ours. It was shorter,
ending at her knees, but thicker. It was also more maneuverable;
Calico was using it to scratch her back and balance as she walked.
The Mohawk continued down her neck and spine to the top of her tail.
Lisa noticed Calico's features as well.

"Doug, we're not the only ones," she confided.

"Apparently not. I'd love to get the full story on her. I need a
receptionist; maybe I'll interview her," I decided.

Calico returned with our drinks. "So, how do you like working here?
Please be honest," I asked.

"It's great not having to wear clothes. Business is slow, though, and
I'm not getting much in tips. I'm not used to standing so much; my
back has been giving me problems and my ankles hurt. My husband runs
a jewelry shop in La Cloma and he's been having back problems, too.
Maybe it's the weather," Calico replied.

Suddenly, it was clear. One of the Banks had probably brought in some
jewelry to be cleaned or repaired and Calico's husband had become
contaminated. I shuddered to think how many pieces he'd contaminated
himself then sold. "How's the jewelry business these days?" I asked.

"Oh, great! Once a customer comes in, they just keep coming back for
more. Now Tiger is thinking of giving away the first pair of earrings
free. That's my husband: Tiger."

"I'm looking to hire a receptionist myself. The offices are still
being built, but they'll be located a few blocks from Union Street.
Would you be interested?" I asked.

"What's the dress code?" Calico wanted to know.

"It's minimal for now. If things change, as I think they will, so
will the dress code," I replied.

In the end, we decided to talk more about the position on Monday,
which was Calico's day off. I gave her the address of the estate and
the phone number of the guest house; we agreed to meet at ten
o'clock. By then, Felix was showing Priscilla and Sid to the table.
Both of them looked a little odd; Sid's cock was fully as large as
anyone's at the estate, but his balls looked like a little boy's.
Priscilla looked much the same as ever except that her clitoris
protruded at least an inch beyond her pussy lips. Priscilla sat on
her heels with her toes pointed outward. Sid sat with his knees and
heels together and his cock hidden between his thighs.

"What's new?" I asked Priscilla.

"Well, nothing amazing, such as a tail. Really! How did you folks
manage it?" Priscilla asked.

"We're not sure, but group sex and out-of-body experiences have
something to do with it. We're going to take it easy for a while,"
Lisa explained.

"Well, Sid, did you hear that? Nothing good ever came out of
exploding weenies."

"Yes, madam," he replied. His chest seemed a little swollen and
Priscilla had let him get a haircut and some earrings.

"So, you want to hire a research assistant at CosmaTech?" Priscilla
asked. Calico cruised past and Priscilla ordered a glass of Chablis
for herself and chocolate milk for Sid.

"Yes, I'm sure the process we have can stand improvement. We need to
add more products to our line, too. I don't know what: painless
tattooing, removable tattoos, maybe some kind of jewelry or insertable
objects. Part of your job would be to propose new products and
services."

"I'd need several computers, access to on-line services, and
subscriptions to professional journals. Also, I need day care for
Sid," Priscilla explained.

"I don't know what out budget will be, but I'll get you the basics
plus whatever the company can afford. As for Sid, perhaps Lisa can
help. Lisa, do you have a job for Sid?" I asked.

"If nothing else, he can work locker room," Lisa suggested.

"That'll be fine. Would I have to wear clothes?" Priscilla asked.

"Only in the front lobby and when blanks are present."

"Blanks?" she asked.

"You know, people with no decoration. Like blank paper or canvas,"
Lisa explained.

"Yes, I see: amusing expression. Pay?"

"I'll pay the going rate," I promised.

"I'm worth another twenty percent. I trust that won't be a problem.
Let me think about it. Lisa, let's go to the Ladies Room. If that
girl comes, just order today's sandwich for me and grilled cheese for
Sid," Priscilla instructed.

Lisa objected, "Priscilla, I use the men's room these days. It avoids
problems."

"Well, isn't that special! OK, let's go to the men's room together.
What's anyone going to see, anyway?"

Sid relaxed a little when Priscilla disappeared. He nervously stared
at Lisa's newly enlarged tits and asked me what it was like to be a
girl. I explained that I was still a man, even though I was trapped
inside a woman's body, and he said that's what he meant. Slowly, he
checked the room to see if anyone was watching and then opened his
knees toward me. His balls were even smaller than I'd first imagined;
he really had nothing but an empty scrotum. Calico brought
Priscilla's and Sid's drinks and I ordered three daily specials and a
grilled cheese.

"Sid, I don't know what's happening to you, but your weenie is getting
bigger and that doesn't seem like becoming a girl."

"Well, my balls are shrinking and my titties are growing. The same
thing is happening to Mbuno."

"Is there anything else?" I asked.

"Do you think Priscilla and Sue are growing weenies?" Sid asked.

The possibility had occurred to me. "I never heard of such a thing,
Sid. For now, I suggest you just let Priscilla take good care of you.
That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid she won't like me if I become a girl," he
worried.

Priscilla, Lisa, and Calico all arrived at the same time. Priscilla
was all eyes over Calico's tail and haircut, and had Lisa stand still
while she fingered my tail as well. During lunch, Priscilla and I
talked about potential candidates for the Research Fellow opening, but
there was no one Priscilla could wholeheartedly recommend. Lisa tried
to talk sports with Sid but he wasn't very talkative.

After lunch Priscilla took Sid to the men's room, giving Lisa and me a
chance to talk.

"Doug, Priscilla pisses standing up now. Actually, she needed a
lesson," Lisa began.

"That doesn't surprise me. Sid's balls are turning into a pussy and
his breasts are swelling, even though his cock is getting bigger at
the same time. The same thing is happening to Mbuno."

"Priscilla told me Sue is changing the same way she is. I don't know
what's happening, Doug. Sid and Mbuno seemed to be blanks. Now, I
don't know. Where is all this heading?"

"If anyone knows or can figure out, it's Claude Storm and Allen
Damihnd. I can't reach either of them, though I keep leaving
messages," I admitted.

Priscilla and Sid returned, so I asked Calico for the check. When we
got our clothes back from Houlaimie, Priscilla was amused to see Lisa
pulling a tennis skirt over my cock and remarked how little of Lisa's
tits were covered by the bra top. Priscilla had worn a purple lace
teddy and put Sid into a frilly pink dress with puffy sleeves.
Priscilla scolded him for letting his weenie get too big for his
panties and reminded him to keep his legs crossed.

Priscilla wanted to see the layout at Essence Alley, so we all headed
over. The place wasn't officially clothing optional but most people
weren't exactly bothering with changing rooms. Sid begged for a
tattoo so Priscilla bought him a lollipop on his butt. Men and women
were walking around Skin Deep showing off their tattoos with no
clothing to obstruct the view. At Piercing Scream, Pokey was modeling
her pussy rings quite openly. Sid started whining so Priscilla bought
him a half-dozen pair of earrings and a nose ring.

We walked Priscilla through the second floor and she was impressed by
the floor plans and the amount of space available. She wanted to see
the marketing prospectus too, and suggested following us back to the
estate since I didn't have a copy at Essence Alley. Pokey had
overheard the conversation and immediately suggested that Priscilla
and Sid stay for dinner. Priscilla said they were supposed to go out
with Sue and Mbuno, but Pokey said Priscilla should just invite them
to the estate also. After a few phone calls, it was agreed.

At the estate I went over the franchise prospectus with Priscilla and
she suggested sending a copy to her cousin in San Diego, who already
operated two hair styling salons and a tanning parlor. Sue and Mbuno
arrived at five o'clock and left their clothes in the car as soon as
they saw everyone come out nude to meet them. Sue's clitoris extended
visibly from her pussy lips and Mbuno had no balls to speak of. I
expected this but it still looked very strange.

There was quite a crowd at dinner. Wanda and Saul showed off their
new tattoos and jewelry. Dan and Dee were back from Berkeley to do
the cooking, of course. I saw Drubla Tribeula and his men drive away
after speaking with Hank and receiving a wad of cash, but neither
Cynthia nor Hank came to dinner.

Dan and Dee cleared away the dinner setting and returned occasionally
to take drink orders. Everyone started looking at each other a little
nervously. Priscilla and Sue showed off their enlarged clitorises,
Sid and Mbuno sheepishly revealed their shrunken balls, and the rest
of us showed our claws and tails. Saul was particularly interested in
the genital changes Priscilla, Sue, Sid, and Mbuno were undergoing.

Cynthia and Hank emerged as the sun was setting, about eight thirty.
Even in the dim light, it was obvious that Cynthia had scabs up and
down both arms from her shoulders to her wrists. She walked like a
stick man, then sat on a bench with her palms on her thighs.

"Doug and I have decided to stay monogamous tonight," Lisa announced.
"We are engaged, you know, and we shouldn't always be having sex with
other people. If you're all going to the guest house, we'd like to
trade rooms with you tonight, Saul and Wanda. Would that be all
right?"

Hank and Cynthia, in particular, seemed nervous at Lisa announcement.
Saul pointed out that four new people were joining, so that loss of
two people shouldn't create a problem. Wanda said we were welcome to
use their room, so Lisa and I said goodnight and headed into Pearson's
house. I set the alarm for six o'clock in the morning, then we went
straight to bed and fell asleep quickly.

Chapter 61. Double Sects Sunday, Week 6

When the alarm rang I was surprised to find myself in a strange room.
Of course, it was just Bohnes's room in Pearson's house. I checked
Lisa's hands, arms, legs, feet, chest, and pussy carefully and didn't
notice any drastic changes. Her body did seem a little taller when I
stood up, and her tits might have been a little larger and firmer
again. Lisa was going through a similar inspection. My body seemed
to be the same size relative to Lisa's, so I supposed it had grown
another inch, too. My cock looked a little larger, but it was hard to
be sure.

Lisa turned my side to me and I noticed that my jaw looked different.
Upon closer inspection, I decided that my chin stuck forward more than
it used to, and my lips extended further back toward my jaw. The lip
rings were still embedded, but they were further apart now.

"How do you feel?" I started to ask, but Lisa yelped back at me before
I got the third word out. As soon as she did, I yelped back at her.
Quickly we ran to the dresser mirror and held our mouths wide open.
They were filled with long jagged rows of sharp canine teeth.

Understand, I'm not talking about four canine teeth set into a normal
human mouth, like a movie vampire. Our chins were sharply pointed and
our lips and jaws extended back to a point just under our ears. The
ends of our noses and our upper lips were essentially merged. When we
opened our mouths, a full set of jagged canine teeth and a long
wagging tongue were revealed. The entire structure was just human
enough to permit speech. Our lip and tongue rings were still in their
comparable places. We soon found that speaking required extra
concentration to avoid getting just a series of canine yelps, hoots,
and barks.

I tried to ask, "Do you remember anything happening last night?" but
what came out was, "Roof yooo rhum brrr arf yip yap ruff?" Lisa
hugged her shoulders and purred into her ear, then we kissed. It was
extremely weird. I tried asking the same question again and this time
she understood me.

"I had a druff...dream," she said. "I ruff outside in a pack of
animals. They ruff dogs or wolves or coyotes or something. Yup
lasted five or ten minutes, then I ruff overhead watching the pack
ruff their orgy. After a few minutes of that, I was in the dark until
a light exploded. Yup's all."

"We're taller, my cock yip bigger, and your tits arf bigger," I said.
"Staying away didn't help. I bet our running times impruff again."

"Ruff's go," said Lisa. Sure enough, we ran twelve miles in forty
minutes and weren't tired at all. As usual, we ran straight into the
pool, but this time we did twenty laps. Several people were already
at breakfast and we strolled over not knowing what to expect.

Katie and Victor were casually ripping off shreds of raw steak. Their
mouths were exactly like ours. Dee, who was serving, had undergone
the same change. Smooth was watching everything with amusement, coyly
keeping her legs crossed. She remained perfectly herself in every
way.

"Ruff happened to Priscilla and Sid?" I asked Katie.

"Oh my, you're still not used to talking, are you? We stayed up quite
a while last night practicing. Consonants with a lot of lip action
are the worst. Priscilla, Sue, and their men seem to be on a
different track than us. You'll see when they come out."

"How's Cynthia?" Lisa asked.

"Oh, wonderful! Her skin is healed in the most beautiful series of
swirls; it looks just like a bead mosaic. She keeps getting blacker,
too: her skin, you know. Here they come!"

Indeed, Cynthia's skin was much darker than I remembered it. Her eyes
were stark white by contrast. The spirals and whorls of raised welts
were beautiful and frightening at the same time. Waving happily at
us, she took a handful of nuts and a raw back rib to the second table
and began to gnaw.

Like Lisa's, Priscilla's breasts seemed a little larger and firmer
than they did Saturday at the restaurant. More noticeably, her
clitoris was now an inch thick, five inches long, and had an
uncircumcised head on it. In every respect, it resembled a cock. Of
course she had no balls, her pussy lips being unchanged. The cock
jiggled as Priscilla proudly walked to the table, and it even became
erect when she looked at Victor.

Sid's breasts were noticeably enlarged; his nipples were two inches
across and he was definitely an A-cup rather than androgynous. His
balls were completely gone, replaced by utterly feminine and totally
hairless pussy lips. When Priscilla scolded him for sulking around,
he became both erect and damp.

Both Priscilla and Sid still had normal mouths. I mentioned this to
Saul and asked his opinion.

"Doug, I don't think anyone here really knows. Like Katie, I believe
that Sue, Priscilla, Mbuno, and Sid are on a different progression
than the rest of us. I can tell you that Hal and Carla are on a third
progression. There may be other paths as well. Clipper, Smooth,
Spike, and Pokey are not on any progression."

"We met someone yesterday who seems to be on yet another progression,
as you put it. She had cat whiskers on her face and a different type
of tail," Lisa mentioned.

Sue and Mbuno joined us. I'd never seen anyone six feet eight inches
tall with a pussy and budding breasts, but I did then. His cock was
well over a foot long and his skin, like Cynthia's, seemed to have
darkened. Sue was clearly upset about having a weenie thrust upon her
but seemed ready to deal with it; the sight of Priscilla gave her an
erection.

"Dee, would you come here a minute, please?" I called. When she
arrived, I asked, "Did you and Dan meet with the campus organizers
yesterday?"

"Yes, it went superbly. We saw quite a few decorated students and
some faculty, too. Several people with activist experience on other
causes are interested in decorative rights. We've drafted a list of
demands and plan to speak on them once an hour at Berkeley square
tomorrow."

"What's on the list?" asked Victor.

"No restrictions on jewelry or makeup at any time. Makeup tables in
the men's washrooms. Clothing optional dress code everywhere on
campus. Adequate climate control. Those are the main points," Dee
explained.

I put it directly, "Dee, what I wanted to ask is this. Of the
decorated people you met yesterday, did any of them seem to be
undergoing a pattern of bodily changes such as we here are subjected
to?"

"Most of them kept their clothes on, if you can believe it. It was
hard to tell," she answered.

"Well, try to keep a sharp eye. We need to get Allen Damihnd involved
in this, but I bet there's a cavern narrative corresponding to each of
these patterns. If so, maybe we can predict or modify the outcome,"
Saul suggested.

After breakfast I again tried calling Damihnd but only got his
machine. I left a long message explaining what was happening but
didn't expect much help. I was beginning to suspect Damihnd had
problems of his own.

Saul and Wanda were again taking measurements at Hank's workout area.
In total, Lisa's body had grown three inches taller and gained twenty
pounds of bone and muscle. The muscle was starting to show in her
thighs, arms, stomach, and back. My body had grown four inches and
gained thirty pounds. Lisa and I tried playing doubles' tennis with
Katie and Victor, but we kept blowing racquet strings and balls apart.
After nine sets we had to quit for lack of equipment.

The message light was lit on the guest house answering machine but it
was from Calico, not Dr. Damihnd. She said she had to quit her job at
Charming Beau Quay and asked if she and Tiger could talk with me about
several things. She sounded very upset and the estate was crawling
with people anyway, so I called her back and invited them over.

At lunch, Saul was worried about the fact that everyone seemed to
prefer raw meat and hard brittle food like nuts. He wasn't at all
sure that the rest of our bodies could deal with such a diet,
especially the digestive tract. We all decided to watch our stools
and report any unusual irregularity. It was some topic for lunch, let
me tell you.

Drubla Tribeula showed up at one o'clock and began discussing further
work with Cynthia. They spent over an hour sketching designs for her
chest, breasts, midriff, and thighs. Finally, Cynthia went into the
house and Drubla took his hobby drill from the van. Mbuno and Sue
followed the proceedings with great interest.

Somehow, Victor had talked Drew Picshire into sending, Buzzy Scetts
one of his artists, on a house call. He and Katie got an hour's work
done on two small serpents. Later, Sid got a shackle tattooed onto
his ankle.

Victor was still getting his serpent when Calico and Tiger arrived.
Saul and I were sitting on the guest house patio discussing possible
outcomes, and noticed that they weren't getting out of their van. I
walked over to the passenger window and noticed both of them were
wearing long T-shirts and had their arms folded.

"Hi Calico, this must be Tiger. Tiger, that's Saul Bohnes. He's a
doctor," I said. Saul held out Wanda's hand.

Tiger looked at Wanda's claws and sighed. "It's true, then. Other
people are undergoing changes. Yes, I'm Tiger Falina."

"I'm glad to meet you, Tiger. I agree that some of the things
happening to people are quite startling," Saul answered, flicking
Wanda's tail and showing her teeth.

"Tiger, let's get out of the van," suggested Calico.

Tiger looked squarely at Calico, who looked in turn at me. "It's very
hard for us to move around. Is there someplace nearby where we can
sit on the carpet?"

"Sure, we can go to the living room. It's only fifty feet or so," I
suggested.

Calico fumbled with the van's door and looked to me for assistance. I
opened the door and gasped. "This is very embarrassing. I feel like
an infant. Please don't laugh," Calico pleaded. I wasn't laughing.
Calico and Tiger both had stubby little legs no longer than their
arms. I knew that Calico's legs had been at least a foot longer the
day before. I couldn't imagine how Tiger was able to drive.

Calico swung her feet toward the ground and slid her butt off the
seat. Her legs seemed to have an extra joint and her feet were about
half the normal length. Her toes were huge, there were only four of
them, and they had claws. Calico held her arms out in front of her to
balance, revealing hands with three stubby fingers and one thumb, all
clawed. She took three or four steps before dropping to all fours and
starting to cry.

"Calico, are you OK?" I asked.

"Well, I can't walk standing up," she replied, her head facing the
ground. "We've been trying all morning and it just doesn't work. Are
we babies again or what?"

"You're the same age you were yesterday, plus a day. We'll do
everything we can to help. Would you like to hold my arm?" I asked.

"Oh, shit, let's just go inside," Calico said, scampering down the
walk on all fours. I should explain that she wasn't crawling on hands
and knees; she was holding up her tail and walking on all fours, just
like a cat. I began to realize that her arms as well as her legs were
shorter and thicker than the day before, and that her hips must have
been reshaped too. Tiger ran after her with surprising quickness, and
after catching up I led the way into the guest house. Saul and I each
sat in a kitchen chair with our tails threaded through the back.
Tiger and Calico sat on all fours with their knees bent and their
forearms straight.

"What happened to us? Do you have any idea? Why are two women named
Saul and Doug? Aren't you going to put something on?" Tiger asked.

I told them about the cavern in New Mexico and about the changes Lisa
and I had experienced. Saul explained the experiences he and Wanda
had been through, then I explained how compulsive decoration and
rejection of clothing seemed to be transmitted by way of metal items
such as jewelry. Now, some decorated people were undergoing bodily
changes, I explained. Saul and I showed them our claws, tails, and
teeth, then explained how everyone on our track had been gaining body
mass and larger sex characteristics.

"As to clothing: first, the owners of the estate have a rule against
it. Second, I'd like you to disrobe for a physical exam. My
equipment is located a few hundred yards away; is that too far?" Saul
asked.

"Oh, we can go for miles on all fours, if you don't mind," commented
Calico.

"Whatever is most comfortable for you will be fine. Do you need help
with those T-shirts?" Saul asked.

"We can undress ourselves. Our fingers and thumbs are clumsy but
we're getting used to them," answered Tiger. Calico pulled off her
shirt first and displayed yet another surprise: eight firm, conical
breasts arranged in twos from her shoulders to her hips. The leaping
cheetah was still visible on her stomach, despite being displayed
across five tits. Tiger's cock was almost a foot long but half of it
was connected to his stomach by a flap of skin.

"Dr. Bohnes, now you've see everything about us. Is there a way we
can get back to normal?" Tiger asked.

Saul replied, "All of us are asking that question, Tiger. There are
some people in New Mexico who may have answers, but we haven't been
able to contact them yet. I'm sure we'll get in touch with them soon.
For now, I suggest you adapt to your present condition for as long as
it lasts. Shall we continue with the exam?"

"Will anyone see us crawling?" Tiger wanted to know.

"Tiger, I was serious when I talked about adapting. You'll be walking
or running, not crawling. I promise no one will laugh at you; we've
all been through too much ourselves. This is the best possible place
for both of you to be. Now, let's go."

The Falinas walked on the grass beside Saul as he headed toward Hank's
gym. Victor, Sue, and Shag were chatting by the pool and we stopped
for introductions. Shag was visibly impressed and wished the same
thing would happen to him. Calico and Tiger were amazed by Sue's
development and began to feel they were among friends.

Saul weighed the Falinas and measured them six ways from Sunday, so to
speak. In Spike's library he found a book on human anatomy and
another on comparative animal bone structure. The Falinas walked back
to the pool area and chatted while Saul worked and made notes for over
an hour. Finally, Saul walked out to the pool area as well.

"Tiger and Calico, I can tell you what I've found. It won't provide a
way back, but it will tell you where you are. Would you like to go
somewhere private?"

"Uh, no, everyone might as well know," shrugged Calico.

"OK. Both of you have very cat-like legs, feet, and hips. It's not
exactly like any one kind of cat, such as a house cat, wildcat, or
jaguar. I suspect you could pounce or jump with the best of them,
though. Your hands and arms are a cross between human and cat
anatomy; for example, a cat wouldn't have thumbs. Compared to a
normal adult human, your arms are slightly shorter, your legs are much
shorter, and your torsos are longer. One thing puzzles me: the thin
strip of fur that runs down your back. That's neither human nor
feline."

"Were were both hairless except for Mohawks when the changes started,"
said Calico. "We had it done at a place called Fulton's Follicle."

Saul continued. "Well, I suggest you decide which everyday tasks are
most important to you, find ways to do them, then practice. Don't
worry about walking on two feet; your bodies aren't built that way
now. Practice walking on all fours. Practice using your hands;
dress, undress, put on jewelry, take it off, type, eat with knife and
fork, whatever. You can probably learn to balance and sit in an
armchair if that's what you want."

Dee and Dan had Sunday night off, as usual, so Marble took everyone's
order and called for pizza. Almost everyone had a few beers, although
Victor was making up daiquiris for me. Calico and Tiger had to hold
the beer bottles with two hands but they managed. Shag dared Tiger to
scale the tennis court fence and he scampered up and down with no
problems. Sid and Mbuno cleaned up the empty boxes, napkins, bottles,
and glasses while Marble put away the left-over pizza. There was a
warm breeze in the air and a beautiful sunset in the West.

Saul and Wanda asked if we wanted to use their room again. It seemed
pointless, if we were going to be affected by whatever happened
anyway. There were sixteen people in the guest house at eight thirty;
I have no idea who ended up with who except that Lisa and I stayed
with Calico and Tiger. I think that Priscilla, Sue, Sid, and Mbuno
stayed in a group. Lisa and I stayed on our backs as Tiger and Calico
walked over us; it was amazingly easy for them to stay in that
position without crushing us. I was conscious of Calico's eight tits
touching Lisa's breasts, chest and stomach; we were both careful to
keep our flesh-rending teeth from damaging tender flesh. The animals
outside were jackrabbits but that phase lasted only seconds; we spent
a long time watching the estate from the air, even watching ourselves
screw each other inside the guest house. Finally, that disappeared
and we experienced darkness and exploding light again, except that we
didn't return to our bodies until after a second explosion.

To my great relief, no one had rabbit ears. Sue and Priscilla had
longer cocks. Sid and Mbuno had larger breasts, narrower waists, and
fuller hips. Calico and Tiger had pointed ears, like cats, of course.
The rest of us had large squarish ears, highly textured and ending in
a point at the upper back. It reminded me of some gargoyle statues I
saw once.

Unlike some nights, there really wasn't anything to show off or
practice using. The estate was running short of bedrooms, but Hank,
Cynthia, and the Tweedles made sure everybody found one. Lisa and I
relaxed in our hot tub and I began to wonder if Lisa's pussy could
still take my cock, which was a foot long when relaxed. To my
surprise and great enjoyment, the condom stretched to fit and Lisa
stuffed my entire cock into her pussy with room to spare. When we
came, I heard Victor and Katie yelp in the next room. Calico and
Tiger were sleeping on the couch and I heard them purr as well.

Chapter 62. Raging Progress Monday, Week 7

Monday was a three ring circus. Lisa and I ran twelve miles in thirty-
five minutes, ate quickly, and got measured. My cock was a foot long;
Lisa's tits were D-cup; both of us had grown another inch and put on
muscle. I liked the way that Lisa's tits swelled out smoothly from
the top curve of her shoulder and the way they didn't flop around when
we ran. Lisa thought her body was getting muscle-bound but seemed to
enjoy the new muscles on mine.

We spent quite a while getting our makeup and jewelry just right, then
threw on long T-shirts and headed out to meet the remodeling
supervisors. Walt Bohrdweihst and Qubie were already at Essence Alley
watching the builders clean up old debris and patch the underlayments.
Walt said this would take all day and that roughing in the new walls
would begin Tuesday. Two of the workers were decorated and wore only
short cutoff jeans. I particularly liked the tattoo on one guy's
back, which showed dozens of Egyptians building a pyramid. The other
guy had more jewelry but his tattoos were just ordinary.

Amazingly, people were paying less attention to us. Walt said there
had been several evening news reports on the decorative movement,
including one that showed a woman who'd grown a tail. The entire news
staff at one Chicago network affiliate had been affected and was
presenting all newscasts in the nude.

Lisa wanted to check the work on her reception foyer. The stairway
wasn't in yet, of course, so we had to walk around the block and pass
through the main entrance. A placard outside the gate announced:

!! Clothing Optional Area !!
If The Human Body Offends You
Please Shop By Catalog.
408-555-8791

Actually, there wasn't that much nudity: maybe a quarter of the
shoppers and half the operators, at most. The workers had made quick
work of the storefront that would become the Fit & Trim entrance and
were marking the location of the wall studs and stairway passage.
Everything seemed well in order.

Later in the morning I used the phone at Tress & Less. Imi Yamakuti
was no longer dealing with any type of body confinement, such as
clothing, so Lisa and I tossed our T-shirts over a chair. I started
by calling Chip Bildehr to discuss the start of Quixotic's contract
work for MicroMind. Chip said he could provide office space for three
engineers starting in two weeks, and I made a note to call Eric Tower
and get the necessary people assigned. Also, I warned Chip that the
entire Quixotic engineering staff was decorated; he said that wouldn't
be a problem: they would just blend in with the decorated employees
MicroMind already had.

Second, I asked Chip to recommend a firm that could manufacture the
CosmaTech equipment. He rattled off several company names but
suggested InstaFlo as the best bet. InstaFlo had a very flexible
world-class manufacturing plant that could assemble electronic
equipment quickly, cheaply, and with high quality. This sounded
perfect for CosmaTech's needs and I called their marketing department
right after I finished talking with Chip. I immediately liked the
marketing representative I spoke to, a woman named Dotty Lyon. Dotty
said InstaFlo would be happy to bid for the work and suggested I
submit the engineering specifications. That was no problem: I called
Robin's office and asked Georgie to send the appropriate sections from
the patent application. Georgie promised to have it done the same
day.

When I called Eric Tower's number a strange voice answered. I knew
Phylen was en route to San Francisco but hadn't expected Eric to be on
vacation. The voice's name turned out to be Ariel Whispe and she said
Eric had gone to New Mexico with his wife, his sister, and his brother-
in-law. As usual, Maddie Ecseau was handling things while Eric was
away. I asked Ariel to tell Maddie that I'd be needing three
engineers in two weeks, and that I'd call again.

I was watching the crowd outside as I spoke to Ariel. When I turned
to hang up, I was surprised to find Smooth standing behind the counter
without her clothes. At first I thought she just came out to tease
me, because she was standing with her hips pressed against the solid
back of the display case. As it turned out, she had something to
discuss.

"Doug, we need to do some planning because of the number of people
staying at the estate. Clipper and I have discussed it with the
Pearsons and don't have a problem with anyone staying; we built the
grounds large enough to handle quite a crowd from time to time and
things were frankly getting dull. However, we've nearly run out of
guest rooms. How many more people might be showing up?"

"Smooth, I'm sorry if all this has created a problem. I'll pay any
expenses you think are fair," I replied.

"No, no, that's not the issue. Last night there were sixteen visitors
at the estate; that's eight bedrooms. We understand that all of you
are going through a common crisis and need to stick together for
support. If more people are coming, someone can use Pearson's motor
home and Clipper and I can take ours out of storage. If necessary, we
can get some camping trailers. Spike had two dozen jewelry people and
their wives in for a week once, so we know how to do it. It does
require planning, though."

I still had my pen out and took a piece of scratch paper from the
counter. "Well, my secretary Phylen Tipe and Trace Surkit, her
boyfriend, are arriving in town today. I suppose they have a hotel
reservation someplace, unless Trace already has an apartment. He's
being transferred to San Jose. Hal O'Graff and Carla Slied are two
people we met in New Mexico; they're in some kind of trouble and are
headed toward San Francisco in their motor home. I invited Lisa's
partner and Carla's parents into town next weekend to discuss granting
them CosmaTech franchises. I keep trying to contact Dr. Damihnd and
Claude Storm, because everyone really needs their advice. I suppose
the Storms would drive their motor home, though. That's a total of
five more couples, two of whom are bringing motor homes. Priscilla,
Sid, and Sue all went to work this morning. I suppose Sue will pick
up Mbuno this afternoon and then the four of them will go home in the
city. Smooth, I really feel like all this is too great an imposition.
Let me get a hotel someplace."

"Doug, it's not a problem. Cynthia, Hank, Dan, and Dee are part of
this, too. I don't think they should leave now. I told Priscilla and
Sue this morning that they should stay the week. I'll tell Hank to
get our motor home and to make sure we have places for two more. Now,
go about your business and don't worry about it."

Smooth knew my business at the shop was finished but didn't seem
prepared to move away from the counter. I gave her a pained
expression and she rolled her eyes flirtingly. Lisa grabbed her arm
and pulled me outside. We checked on her store front again and went
up the back stairway to the second floor, which was progressing
remarkably fast. We were out the back entrance and riding in the car
before we remembered our T-shirts. Oh well.

Back at the estate we worked out for an hour with Hank, whose frame
and muscles had continued to grow. He was over seven feet tall and
weighed 270 pounds. Drubla Tribeula had brought an assistant and the
two of them were working on Cynthia and Mbuno in a shady spot on the
patio. Buzzy Scetts was inking flowers onto Wanda's thighs and the
image of a keyhole onto the back of Saul's neck.

Victor and Katie appeared at four o'clock with several bottles of
Champaign; they'd succeeded in buying eighty acres next to the estate.
Victor said they planned to have a mobile home set up Tuesday or
Wednesday and then begin searching for a decorated architect to help
them design a resort community. Cynthia said she had some leads but
couldn't get up at the moment.

Phylen called a little later from the airport to ask which cities were
clothing optional. As I suspected, she and Trace were planning to
stay at a hotel. Phylen was dismayed to learn there were no clothing
optional laws in California yet. She unleashed a flood of complaints
about how the airline made people smother their bodies while sitting
in crowded seats and how ridiculous all the blanks at the airport
looked as they stared at people from inside their plain, boring
bodies. Despite her objections, Phylen was hesitant about coming to
the estate, saying she would feel like a freeloader. I reminded her
she would have to wear clothing at the hotel and eventually convinced
her she was welcome. Trace had already rented a car so I asked Phylen
to put him on the phone and gave him directions to the estate.

Usually, Dan and Dee were extremely punctual about having meals ready
but at five thirty they were nowhere in sight. I counted sixteen
visitors at the estate, plus Marble, Shag, Phylen, and Trace. Marble
was in her room, still dressed in her school clothes and wig, doing
homework.

"Marble, are you busy?" I asked. She jumped up in surprise and began
undressing.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Trents! I just got involved in my homework and forgot to
hang up my clothes." I discovered that her school attire consisted of
shoes, blouse, skirt, and wig: nothing else.

"I'm sorry, Marble; I didn't mean to startle you. Dan and Dee aren't
here yet so I guess we need to order out for food. There are twenty
people. How do you handle things on Friday and Sunday?"

"Gosh, twenty people is a lot. Uh, we have accounts at several
places. Once a month they send Cynthia a bill. Do you want pizza,
Chinese, chicken, ribs, or what?"

"We had pizza last night. How about Chinese? Can you call them and
order dinner for twenty?"

"No problem, Mr. Trents. It'll probably take them a little while;
perhaps until six-thirty or seven."

I assured Marble that dinner at seven would be no problem, but to
check back with me if it would take longer. She finished hanging up
her clothes and then picked up the phone to order. I noticed her room
didn't have a dresser and wondered how many fourteen year old rich
girls owned no underwear. I also wondered if Smooth owned any.

Phylen and Trace honked their horn when they arrived and Hank opened
the gate for them. They'd rented a raised-top camping van for reasons
that became obvious as soon as they got out and chucked their T-shirts
and shorts. Each of them had grown at least a foot and a half taller,
all in the rib cage. Phylen had added more jewelry to her tits and
navel. She still had the diagonal Mohawk and was heavily made up but
wore no tattoos at all. Trace was decorated much the same as Phylen
except that his Mohawk was straight.

Introductions took quite a while because Phylen and Trace were
extremely interested in everyone's changes. Phylen said she'd dreamt
of having a tail several times in the past week, and Trace spoke for
quite a while with Calico and Tiger about the back pains they
experienced before changing into quadrupeds. Saul was greatly
intrigued by the newcomers: he counted twenty-two ribs on Phylen and
twenty on Trace.

Dee and Dan arrived when the food truck was at the gate. They
apologized profusely and immediately set out tablecloths, china, and
serving utensils. Phylen and Trace were amused to see the difficulty
we had eating with our claws and lip rings but I didn't care; doctor's
orders were to eat heartily.

After dinner I spoke with Dee and discovered that she and Dan had been
arrested on-campus for public indecency. Dee explained that quite a
crowd of decorated students had assembled to hear the speakers, that
the sun had heated up the air around the concrete buildings, and that
she and Dan felt they were among friends. The upshot was that the
Tweedles and several other students had removed their clothes and
promptly been arrested. Wisely, they made their one phone call to
Robin, who got them released on their own recognizance. Court had
been scheduled for Thursday.

Lisa's body had grown to six feet; nearly as tall as my own body had
been. Nevertheless, Phylen towered over me. "Doug, we need to find a
bathroom. Should we be getting settled somewhere?" she asked.

"There's a washroom in the pool cabana, or you can use ours in the
guest house," I replied. "In the meantime, I'll ask Hank about a
room. As you can see, there are quite a few guests, but I'm sure
there's something."

"Fine, now I just have to find Trace. As you can see, my arms don't
even reach my waist anymore. Trace and I have to kneel down and help
each other clean up. Oh, there he is. Which washroom is larger?"

"Try the guest house; our bathroom is to the left," I replied. Hank
said they were out of spare bedrooms until Spike and Pokey returned
with their motor home, and asked if Phylen and Trace could sleep in
their camping van. When they returned, I presented them with the
options.

"Folks, we're out of bedrooms. One of our hosts has a motor home you
can use, but they won't be home with it until eleven or twelve
o'clock. The other option is to use your camper, at least for one
night."

"No problem, we'll use the camper. I'm paying a fortune for it, but
at least it's tall enough to sit in. The beds are long enough, too,
because there are three mattresses arranged in a U. We might as well
make use of it," said Trace.

"What do you folks do for fun in the evening around here?" Phylen
wanted to know.

"Well, I guess we have orgies. Nobody ever planned it that way, but
one thing led to another. Let me ask you: did you get your extra ribs
all at once?" I inquired.

Phylen and Trace glanced at each other, then Phylen replied, "We
started spending time after hours at Fit & Trim with Mera, Waylon,
Tina, and Marty. One night we all came at once then blacked out.
When we woke up, Trace and I had each gained a rib. The others had
changes, too, but mostly we didn't even notice them. I didn't notice
the extra rib until the next day when I was trying on clothes and
deciding whether to keep them. All my blouses were short in the
waist."

Trace continued, "I didn't notice my extra rib until Phylen came over
and counted them. It didn't seem like a big deal so that night we met
the others at Fit & Trim. We blacked out again and woke with two more
ribs each. The next night we stayed home but got aroused and blacked
out at the same time. I got two more ribs and Phylen got three. Last
night we went to Fit & Trim again and each got three more ribs. As
your doctor counted, I now have twenty and Phylen has twenty-two."

I wondered what changes Mera, Waylon, Tina, and Marty had experienced
but didn't want to change the subject. "I appreciate your openness,"
I said. "The same pattern is occurring here. Counting you two, we
have eighteen people involved. Two more people we know seem to be
affected by long distance; they were in Florida but started
experiencing changes at the same times. At first, the only strange
occurrence was animals swarming. Lately, we've been having out-of-
body experiences, blackouts, and flashes of light. I can't advise you
whether to join, since I don't know your preferences and don't know
what the effect on you would be, either way."

By then, Shag and Marble had gone to their rooms, Dan and Dee had
cleaned up dinner, and people were strolling toward the guest house.
"Everyone seems to be heading inside. Is that the place?" Phylen
asked.

I said that it was and watched Phylen and Trace stroll inside. Lisa
beckoned me from the door. Phylen and Trace were already paired with
Cynthia and Mbuno. Drubla had worked on Cynthia's breasts that day
and Phylen had to be very careful not to rub them. Priscilla had
mounted Lisa, who already had my cock inside Priscilla's pussy and was
rubbing Priscilla's cock with my left hand. Sid was on his back,
lacking a partner and pleading at me with his eyes. I placed Lisa's
pussy over his face and began sucking his cock as I placed Lisa's
thumb inside his pussy. Sid gingerly touched Lisa's tits and began
massaging them carefully. No doubt from Priscilla's training, he was
an excellent cunnilinguist.

Sue seemed to be having a great time with Tiger even though he needed
to be on top. Calico was spread over Hank, who kept rubbing her
shoulders in a "nice kitty" sort of way. Wanda was over Dee, Saul was
under Victor, and Katie and Dan were inverted, eating each other out.

Sid was actually rather good at lovemaking, although not the least
assertive about himself. He didn't object to wearing a condom at all,
and his cock filled up Lisa's pussy nicely. Having a smooth pussy
instead of balls didn't create a problem at all. Suddenly, I heard
animals outside and began to cum.

The animals were wild goats. I have no idea how they got past the
security gate, but there were at least a hundred of them, all in heat
and furiously coupled. I watched everything from high in the air for
ten or twenty seconds, then experienced the familiar darkness and
exploding light. Instead of a flash of light, though, I sensed being
in an intensely lit, huge, pyramid-shaped chamber populated by
partially human beings. I think several of them looked at me with
interest, though the brightness made it hard to see. Suddenly, I was
back in the guest house.

Horns: I should have guessed. Wanda, Saul, Cynthia, Hank, Katie,
Victor, Dan, Dee, Lisa, and I each had gained a pair of six-inch long
angled horns protruding from our foreheads. Priscilla, Sid, Sue, and
Mbuno had continued their mixed-sex development with larger tits,
cocks, and pussies. Their faces, shoulders, and hips appeared to be
less gender-specific as well. Tiger and Calico had changes to their
shoulders and necks that made it easier to hold up their heads, and
they had puffier cheeks, rounder noses, and longer fangs.

Phylen and Trace seemed to have gained a few more ribs but the most
striking change was their color. Half their skin had turned black
like Cynthia's and Mbuno's, forming a horizontal zebra pattern. It
was everywhere, even on their faces. Almost anticlimactic were six-
inch tufted tails.

I stared at Lisa's face in the mirror for about a minute; perhaps I
was getting shell-shocked but the horns didn't seem like such a big
deal. In fact, they complimented the large pointed ears. Facing the
mirror, I shook Lisa's tail, rattled her claws, and let her tongue
hang out the side of her mouth for a while, wondering if I could get a
part in a B-grade heaven-and-hell movie. Her tits were larger and
firmer than ever, her entire frame was heavier, and she had rippling
muscles in her arms, neck, shoulders, back, stomach, thighs, and
calves.

Lisa had quite a bit of cleaning up to do; not only was my cock
slippery with cum and pussy juice, but my stomach was coated with cum
from Priscilla's cock. Saul got Phylen and Trace to promise they
would take a physical exam in the morning, then everyone drifted off
for the evening. I poured a Scotch for Lisa and mixed a daiquiri for
myself. Someone must have been at it again, because my cock squirted
cum and Lisa's pussy climaxed for no good reason.

Chapter 63. Answers & Questions Tuesday, Week 7

Lisa woke up first and stood by the window, stretching. My body was
seven feet tall by then and rippled with bulging muscles. Lisa
rotated my arms and shoulders for a while, then began twisting at the
waist. My tail swung gracefully and I noticed how even the large
tattoos on my back, chest, stomach, and thighs had kept their
proportions. Lisa had removed all the makeup and most of the jewelry
from my body, leaving only the welded rings. I could almost recognize
the familiar face I had seen in the mirror for most of my life.

Two months before I would have said such changes were impossible. At
some level, I still felt that way but I had to believe Lisa's eyes.
What force could have resulted in such changes? Was there a purpose
behind that force? What, or who, was it? I decided that the Pearsons
and Strands knew something. Else, why did they tolerate the expense
and disruption of twenty house guests, none of whom they previously
knew?

Lisa did a handstand and then, with my feet in the air, began doing
one-handed pushups. I knew my body weighed almost two hundred and
forty pounds; where had my arms acquired the strength and balance to
perform such a feat? Lisa did fifty repetitions with my right arm,
fifty with my left, and then sprung to my feet.

"Are you going to lie in bed all day?" I heard my voice ask. The
sound was much different from what I used to hear inside my own head,
but I was getting used to it.

"Maybe I will. I've had all the exciting adventures I can stand for
one week," I replied. Lisa bent at my waist, lowered my horns, and
charged. My body sailed the through the air for the final ten feet
and would have landed on hers except that I deflected my chest with
her arm. She grabbed me by her sides and pulled us both to the floor.
I landed on top of her and tried to hold her down but she threw her
body into the air. I did a somersault before landing on her feet in
the middle of the room. Lisa prepared to charge again but I rushed
outside and began running our regular morning laps. Within a few
moments she caught up to me and fell into stride.

"So, have you taken a new interest in wrestle mania?" I asked.

"No, I just felt like exercising. I never thought of doing one-handed
handstand pushups before. How strong do you suppose we've become?"
she wondered.

"Maybe we should try weight-lifting with Hank. I'll tell you this:
the wind on your face feels as if I'm bicycling. We're doing third of
a mile laps in less than a minute. That's faster than twenty miles an
hour."

"How is that possible, Doug?"

"How is any of this possible? It happened. I'm convinced that the
Strands and Pearson's know something about it. They'd never tolerate
the trouble and expense of all these guests otherwise," I replied.

We finished forty-five laps in just under thirty-eight minutes then
dove directly into the pool and swam twenty laps. When we jumped out
and shook the water off ourselves, I was surprised that the
thermometer on the cabana wall showed the temperature at only fifty-
nine degrees. Despite being wet, I didn't feel cold at all.

Smooth was sitting on her patio, shielded from the breeze yet warmed
by the sun, and chatting with Victor over breakfast. Her chair was
pulled away from the table and she was facing him directly with one
foot on the chair and her arm on her knee. She was finishing half a
bagel and coffee. Victor was gnawing at an uncooked shoulder roast
that he held by the bone like a popsicle; it seemed to be the second
one. As I approached, Smooth pulled in her chair, crossed her knees,
and demurely covered her lap with a napkin. I motioned to Dan that I
wanted the same as Victor and then took the bench opposite Smooth.
Lisa sat next to me and we got our tails arranged.

"Good morning! Victor was just telling me about your business
proposition, Doug. It sounds like a wonderful opportunity," Smooth
greeted us.

"I'm afraid there won't be any repeat business," Victor stated. "Oh,
sure, it takes several treatments to get all the dormant follicles but
then the customer never comes back."

"There are millions more customers out there, Dad. Anyway, some
people might get themselves done in phases. How long are you and Mom
going to keep that fuzz on your scalp?" asked Lisa.

"Your mother is getting her head shined today, as a matter of fact.
I'm just getting a haircut. Smooth was telling me she sees more bald
women than men these days," said Victor.

"It's true," Smooth remarked. "I'd say that about a quarter of the
decorated women I see are hairless from head to toe. It's good to
have company! Most men are still fuzzy in the head, though."

"To answer your question, Victor, we'll be looking for new processes
all the time," I revealed. "Some ideas are semi-permanent makeup that
has to be applied and removed at a salon, tattoo ink that changes
color under a magnetic pencil, and long-term skin tinting."

"What would skin tinting be?" Smooth asked.

"Well, I don't know of this is even possible, but I see it as a skin-
penetrating, biodegradable ink. A person could get themselves tinted
any color they wanted: red, blue, purple, green, whatever. I suppose
patterns would be possible, too."

"Wouldn't a person's natural skin color interfere?" asked Cynthia, who
by then had joined us. It looked as if she was wearing a tight jacket
made of beads, but of course it was her welted skin giving that
impression.

"It would, unless the body's normal production of pigment could be
halted," I theorized. "Tell me, though, would you go white just so
you could be purple or green?"

"I like my skin as it is; the blacker the better," Cynthia replied.
Her eyes contrasted starkly with her increasingly deep black skin
color, and the pink of her tongue flashed like a beacon when she
talked. The thick, stark white bone carvings in her ears, nose, and
nipples contrasted vividly. She ran her fingers up and down the rows
of round, bumpy welts that decorated her arms, chest, breasts, and
stomach.

"Do you have any regrets about your work?" Lisa wanted to know.

"Yes, it takes too long. Otherwise, it's beautiful, don't you think?
My skin is my own decoration and I never have to put it on or take it
off. Drubla will decorate my thighs today, my head tomorrow, and my
calves Friday."

"That's another process CosmaTech could develop," I proposed.

"I suppose you're right, Doug, but I like being unique," Cynthia
sighed.

"Even if the process becomes common, your particular pattern will
always be unique," Lisa pointed out.

After eating, everyone strolled over to Hank's workout area where
Spike and Saul were taking body measurements. I stayed behind and
watched Smooth closely so she wouldn't get up. Soon, we were alone.

"Smooth, what is going on here?" I asked bluntly.

"Why, everyone had breakfast and now we're having a chat," she dodged.

"No, you know what I mean. People don't just put up with twenty house
guests they never met before. In addition, neither you, Clipper, nor
the Pearson's seem shocked by all the unnatural changes we're going
through. I ask you again, what's going on here?"

Smooth stared at me a long time. I was ready to stare back all day if
that's what it took to get an answer. Smooth glanced at the line of
people Spike and Saul were measuring, then at the guest house, then at
me and my decorations and changes. I watched her eyes the whole time,
but it didn't bother or affect her at all. She looked at the six
flagpoles standing Southeast of the deck, then back at the guest
house, then finally at me again. At least ten minutes had passed.

"I really can't tell you anything that would help you, Doug," Smooth
finally replied.

"They you do know something," I observed.

"I know what you're asking. If I knew the answers we wouldn't be
sitting here now," she said.

"You don't seem caught up in this at all. You, Clipper, and the
Pearsons haven't been affected in any way," I observed.

"If you don't think I'm involved, why are you asking me these
questions, Doug?"

"I feel helpless. I what to know what you know, Smooth."

"I'm helpless, too, Doug. Believe me: you're better off following
your own intuition. Trust your feelings. Be true to your own
principles."

Smooth wasn't helping me at all. I decided to try a trick question.
"How long have you known Claude Storm?"

Smooth looked back at me with a wry smile. She wasn't tricked at all.
"I suppose you think I've known this person a long time," she replied.

"Have you?"

"No, not at all," she replied, telling me nothing.

"This isn't the first time for you, is it?" I asked.

"No, Doug, we've spoken many times before. This is getting rather
pointless, don't you think?"

Smooth was an intelligent, quick-witted, and willful person. She knew
my game and wasn't going to crack. I looked up at the flagpoles just
as the sun lined up behind them. Smooth took the opportunity to get
up and start walking toward her back door and I headed over to meet
Spike and Saul.

Lisa's body was six feet three inches tall and weighed in at 191
pounds. I told Spike there was no way her body could have gained 68
pounds since Saturday, but he assured me that the others were showing
similar weight gains. Saul had double-checked the scale by placing
two hundred pounds of Hank's weights on it; there was no inaccuracy.
I hadn't eaten twenty-three pounds of food a day; of that I was
certain. The tremendous gain in body mass had to be related to the
strange experiences that were taking place.

I used Hank's mirror to look at Lisa's body more closely. I still
hadn't put on makeup or jewelry, so her face was fairly well revealed.
Her ears and mouth were completely changed, or course, and the horns
obscured her forehead. Her blonde hair was long gone, but her eyes
had the same blue color and familiar shape as always. Her once-fair
skin now had a deep suntan color.

Her overall physique had been transformed from slim, trim, and petite
to massive and hulking. Her image reminded me of the barbarian women
shown on the front of science-fiction books, or perhaps of the super-
heroines in comic books. Her bone structure was heavy and muscles
bulged from her arms, shoulders, back, butt, thighs, and calves. She
had a washboard stomach that Sylvester Stalone would have envied.
Saul measured her figure at 50-29-40. Her breast measurement was
inflated, so to speak, because her rib cage had expanded so much.

I tried probing Spike for information but he was either less
knowledgeable or more evasive than Smooth; I never figured out which.
Like the others, he was certainly taking all the abnormal events
calmly; almost as if he'd seen it all before. I wondered if he and
Pokey were keeping their distance for their own safety, but wondered
in that case why they didn't just ask everyone to leave.

Priscilla told Sid to give Mbuno the day off, then the two of them
threw on loose shifts and headed for work at the central library. I
gave her a list of my new ideas for CosmaTech services and asked her
to begin research if time permitted. Victor and Katie were calling
resort architects to begin planning Buckskin West, as they were
tentatively calling it. Tiger and Calico were having quite a
discussion with Phylen and Trace, who were beginning to look like
dachshund dogs. I had no idea where their changes were leading; Spike
told me that Phylen now had twenty-seven ribs, with the fourteenth rib
being much thicker than the rest. Trace had twenty-five ribs with the
thirteenth one thicker.

Lisa was waiting for me in our living room. We had outgrown every
article of clothing we owned but Lisa had found some large bathrobes
in the cabana. I didn't ask why the cabana happened to be stocked
with XX and XXX-Large robes; doing so only would have made me
suspicious. There was no way either of us could fit in Lisa's car so
I drove mine. Lisa wasn't comfortable driving because my knees didn't
fit under the steering wheel. Traffic and parking were both terrible;
it took an hour and a half to drive twenty miles from the estate to
Essence Alley. I noted it would have been faster to jog.

We both felt ridiculous walking around Essence Alley with bathrobes on
so we left them in Spike's office. The second floor and entryways had
been completely cleared and work was starting on the walls, windows,
and plumbing. The same two decorated carpenters were at work again,
having tossed the last of their clothes over a saw horse. One of them
asked me if I wanted to drive in a few nails. On my first try I
smashed the hammer right through a two by four. A little later, we
helped by lifting some heavy window fixtures into place; otherwise,
the workers would have been stuck waiting for a crane.

Pokey invited us to join her and Roberta Fulton for lunch at a new
place they found. They assured us we didn't need to dress and headed
directly for Roberta's van, which she kept parked in a secluded nook
in the service alley behind Fulton's Follicle. The restaurant was
only a few miles away and had its own underground parking garage,
clearly marked:

--> Clothing Prohibited <--
Do Not Enter
If Offended or
Unable To Comply

We took a private elevator to the top floor and discovered a pleasant
rooftop establishment with a clear view of the bay. What surprised me
was the number and variety of people. There were at least two hundred
people eating lunch, all nude and all decorated except for two kids
having lunch with their mothers. I saw several who had become catlike
and Lisa pointed out some others with tails. The head waiter took
them all in stride, as a variety of seating arrangements was
available. For example, the catlike people were squatting on the
floor in front of a low Oriental table with their knees bent and their
arms straight.

According to the menu, the restaurant called itself Coming Buck'd.
The waiter was a guy in his early twenties with a good looking body
and no apparent changes. He had pinstripes and the San Francisco
Giants emblem tattooed on his front side and an aerial view of
Candlestick Park on his back. All the hair on his body was stubble-
length: about an eighth inch long. The menu had quite a variety of
interesting dishes but Pokey and Roberta ordered low-cal chef salads
and mineral water. Lisa asked for a couple of raw steaks and I tried
the granola and ham bone nuggets. They were delicious: large and
crunchy with bacon drippings on them.

"So, how's business?" I asked no one in particular.

"Not half as good as it could be," replied Roberta. "When can we get
more equipment, Doug?"

"I'm getting a bid from a highly recommended manufacturer, probably
tomorrow. Do you have floor space to expand?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, we've been talking to Bonnie. We can open a second small
store, move completely into a larger one, or move next door. Business
is so hot that Bonnie is considering annexing and remodeling the
adjoining building."

"I see you've stopped wearing your wig, Roberta," Lisa noted.

"Oh yes, I can't believe how simple life is without hair growing all
over me. No shaving, no shampoo, no blow-drying, no brushing, no hair
spray, no mousse, no doing it all again just because it's a windy day.
Besides, it's not weird anymore. Just look around!"

I did. There seemed to be more bald heads than buzzed, those being
the only two styles in evidence. "Yeah, Pokey, you seem to be the odd
one now. When are you making an appointment?" Roberta teased.

"Smooth has been nagging me that way for years. I'm not about to let
you three talk me into it. When I'm ready to make changes, you'll all
know," Pokey promised.

"Are you aware of something coming up?" I asked.

Pokey seemed caught unaware and suddenly became nervous. I could tell
she was replaying what she'd just said, deciding what meaning we might
have gleaned from it. Finally, she answered, "No, if I choose a new
hair style, or lack thereof, you'll all know it. That's all I meant."

I glared at her, letting her know I didn't believe her comeback.
"Smooth and Spike seem to be waiting for something to happen. Are you
waiting, too?" I asked.

"We're all waiting for the future, aren't we, even though we don't
know what it will bring," Pokey answered. "How's your remodeling
coming along?"

She was trying to change the subject but I didn't let her. "Well, as
you can see, Lisa and I grew horns last night. The night before, we
got these pointed gargoyle ears. Our bodies are growing huge,
muscular, abnormally strong, and super athletic. It makes you wonder
what's happening, doesn't it?"

"Doug, I don't think anyone knows the cause of what's happening to you
and the others. Smooth and I, and our husbands; we all just feel you
folks must be going through a lot and need to stick together."

"Have you been speaking to Claude?" I asked casually.

"Cloud of Many Storms hasn't called since Saul and Wanda left town,"
said Pokey , instantly regretting it. She put her hands on her lap
and looked out the window for several minutes.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" asked Roberta.

"I'm trying to find out myself, Roberta. Think back two months. Can
you imagine a crowd of people coming to a particular restaurant so
they don't have to wear clothes? What about the piercings, the
tattoos, and little or no hair? What about the tails and the catlike
features and the other changes people are going through? Would you
have walked around nude and hairless, showing off your nipple rings,
pussy rings, and the tattoos on your butt? How do you account for it
all?"

"It's changing fashions, Doug. There's no accounting for taste;
everybody knows that," Roberta answered.

"Can you account for it, Pokey?" I asked.

"I'm keeping quiet, Doug, except that I know much less than you
believe. Furthermore, I'm sure that most of what I believe is wrong.
You should be less inquisitive and just follow your instincts, Doug."

"What did Cloud of Many Storms have to say?" I pressured.

"I can't tell you. Please forget that name," Pokey replied. Her
guard was up now, and even another trick question wasn't likely to
produce any results.

"What about all these decorated people? Is there anything that can
help them?" I tried.

"There was a report in yesterday's Examiner," answered Roberta. I
really wanted Pokey to keep talking, though. "It said that over ten
percent of the Bay Area population have taken up the lifestyle, and
the percentage is growing every day. Some people with arthritis,
cancer, diabetes, AIDS, and other diseases report being cured.
Blindness, paralysis, and missing limbs have all been corrected.
People are lining up at the hospitals and clinics, but the doctors
don't know what to do. They tried tattooing and piercing people, but
of course that had no effect."

"Doug, aren't you going to tell Roberta everything you know?" Pokey
asked. She had me. I wanted to save lives, but not at the cost of
deliberately affecting people. Like Pokey and Smooth, I myself was
unwilling to discuss my own knowledge.

"If you know someone with a specific problem, they should call Mera
Thonn at Fit & Trim Salons, Stratford Estates, Illinois," Lisa
suggested.

"Oh yes, the article mentioned her. Four states now have enacted
clothing optional laws. In two more, the courts have ruled that
decorated nudity is an accepted community standard and therefore not
an offense. Her organization is active in several more states. I
wish she'd come here."

"She is, later this week. Perhaps you can meet her. Did they have a
picture of her?" I replied, wondering about the changes Phylen had
mentioned.

"Oh, just from the neck up. She had lots of jewelry, lots of makeup,
and no hair. That's all you see of those people here. They say the
local news in those states is something to see. I'd like to meet her
and join her organization, Doug."

"I'll try to arrange it, Roberta. Was New Mexico one of the states?"
I asked.

"No, I think the four legislative states were Illinois, Georgia,
Texas, and Colorado. All of them have major hub airports; quite a
coincidence, isn't it? The other two states were Florida and Alaska."

"I'm surprised Len and Dawn haven't started something," I remarked
casually.

"It doesn't work like that," said Pokey, instantly regretting it. She
excused herself and left for the ladies room. After waiting twenty
seconds, I picked up Lisa's purse and followed her. Of course, no one
gave Lisa's body a second look. Pokey was on the phone and when she
saw me; she turned and faced into the corner of the booth. I paid her
the courtesy of not eavesdropping and checked Lisa's face instead.
Pokey hung up the phone and confronted me.

"Doug, I must ask you to stop pressuring us for information. Believe
me, if you act on the information we know, you'll repeat our mistakes.
We don't know the right answers to your questions; we only know a few
of the many wrong ones. Do you believe me?"

"Well, I don't think any of you are trying to take advantage of us or
harm us. Something or someone is exerting powerful influences on
thousands or perhaps millions of people, though. Lisa and I feel this
started with us and we have a responsibility to end it as well, or at
least to see that people aren't hurt."

"You can't stop it, Doug. I promise you this: if you head down a path
that I'm sure is harmful to yourself or others, I'll tell you. I
don't think that'll become necessary, though. Do you believe me?"

I looked Pokey straight in the eye for a long time, then told her I
believed what she was saying. Together, we returned to the table,
rejoined Lisa and Roberta, and finished eating. The women chatted on
about nothing while I gazed out at the bay and thought about what was
happening. I began to suspect that Claude Storm, or Cloud of Many
Storms, if that was his real name, was somehow in control or at least
was the instigator. The Strands, Pearsons, Storms, and Slieds all
knew each other and understood something about what was happening.

What about Bonnie and Robin, I wondered. They seemed to be operating
on both sides; cooperating with the Strands and Pearsons but affected
like Lisa, myself, and thousands of others. What about Saul and
Wanda? They knew the Clouds and probably the Slieds, and they were
involved in numerous transformations after the fact. Like the Banks,
though, they also appeared to be victims.

Plotters and Victims: were those our roles? Perhaps Seekers and The
Lost were closer to the truth.

On the way back to Essence Alley Pokey remarked that business at
Piercing Scream was fantastic. Keeping up inventory was the biggest
problem, as nationwide demand was increasing rapidly. Spike had
signed exclusive contracts with several manufacturers and artisans to
insure a ready supply. I wondered how many of the artisans were
decorated, and how many customers weren't.

Two more carpenters had chucked their overalls, got haircuts, and
bought jewelry since we left. They sure looked more comfortable.
Walt Bohrdweihst stopped by wearing orange and green makeup, a chain
mail helmet, and woven metal wrist and ankle cuffs. He assured us all
the work was right on schedule then headed down to Skin Deep for some
work.

It seemed there really wasn't anything more for us to do so Lisa and I
visited Fitting Touch. We told Andy Reghatti that we'd outgrown all
out clothes, including the ones we just bought, and he replied that
several other customers were having the same problem. The solution,
he said, was a special wrap-around skirt which Ann and Seymour had
designed. Andy claimed this design was truly one-size-fits-all,
accommodating hip sizes from 36 to 62. We each bought two of them in
different styles, and Andy said he would take back anything we hadn't
worn yet. To cover Lisa's tits, I bought an enormous crop-top tank T-
shirt.

Lisa was quiet at first as I drove back to the estate, then asked why
I'd been so inquisitive that day.

"Lisa, all these events are leading toward something. They have to
be. Don't you feel it?" I asked.

"No, I don't," she replied. "I certainly can't predict the future
based on what's happened so far. As far as I'm concerned, it could
stop right now and I wouldn't be surprised."

"What if it continued, building to a climax? Would that surprise
you?"

"No, sex with you is always good," Lisa answered.

"Thanks, but it's not what I meant. What if the changes keep growing
more extreme and keep affecting more people?"

"It'll be great for the furniture, jewelry, and cosmetic industries
but terrible for clothing and hair styling. You worry too much,
Doug," she scolded me.

"Don't you feel sorry for Calico and Tiger?"

"Actually, they seem to be in good spirits. You should talk to them,
Doug. Think about yourself, too. Are your physical changes the
biggest problem in your life? You seem more concerned about your job,
your new company, and about other people than about yourself."

She was right. The fact that I now inhabited the tattooed, heavily
pierced, and hairless body of a six foot three inch 191 pound muscle
woman really wasn't a daily concern anymore. Neither were the claws,
tail, canine jaw, pointed ears, or horns. I just wanted to get on
with my life, as I always had. I remembered explaining the same thing
to Eric Tower in his hideout, but had forgotten it myself.

Calico was napping on the grass outside the guest house when we
arrived. She had her arms and legs folded beneath her and her chin
resting on her hands. I must have awakened her because she opened one
eye as I passed.

"Don't let me disturb you," I cautioned.

"No problem," Calico answered, flexing her shoulders, arms, and legs.
"Damn, waking up is the oddest part. I dream in my old shape, then
get disoriented and try to stand up when I come around." With that,
she stood on all fours, flexed her back, and waved her tail.

"I'd like to talk with you. Do you mind?" I asked.

"No, I'll meet you by the pool," Calico responded, heading off in that
direction. I noticed she took a shortcut through some bushes and
under a fence. I used the normal sidewalk after removing the clothes
from Lisa's body and tossing them on the bed.

Calico was sitting in a shady spot with her feet, butt, and hands all
on a narrow fence rail. Hank had removed the lower back slats from a
few of the deck chairs so I pulled one over, threaded my tail through,
and sat in front of her.

"Thanks," Calico began. "It's nice not to be looking up at people all
the time."

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Oh, great! I have no more pains in my back and the allergy I always
get at this time of year seems to have gone away. Tiger used to get
leg pains from an old injury and those have stopped too."

"How do you feel about your new shape?"

"I'm getting used to it. My hands are the worst part, although maybe
I should call them paws now. It's tough to go from four long fingers
to three stubby ones; I have to watch my paws and concentrate about
anything I try to do. Fine work, like putting on jewelry, is the
worst. Tiger hasn't figured out yet whether he can stay in business.
Holding a bottle or can is tough because my fingers won't go around
it. I guess we'll use wine glasses for everything."

"You don't seem particularly upset," I observed.

"Oh, it's rather interesting, in a way. When you watched a cat, or
any other animal, move around, didn't you always identify with it and
wonder what it was feeling? Well, now I'm finding out. I feel more
in touch with nature. Tiger and I could just go in the woods and
live, you know. We don't feel cold at night and we've found that
catching other animals is a breeze."

"You didn't kill anything, did you?" I asked.

"Oh, no, but I caught some birds this morning just for fun. I let
them go because I didn't need them. It makes you think, though: do we
really need all these buildings and roads and houses and cars? If
there were other people like Tiger and me, maybe we could start a
community in the woods."

"We saw six people with changes like yours at lunch today. The
restaurant was called Coming Buck'd," I told her.

"I'd love to meet other people like us!" Calico exclaimed. "What were
they wearing? I have no idea where to buy pants or a bra."

That could be a business opportunity, I thought, unless going nude got
legalized everywhere. In any event, I answered Calico, "The
restaurant doesn't permit clothes. Do you have a way of getting
there?"

"Hank took our van in this morning. They're going to replace the
front seats with a carpeted deck and replace the pedals with hand
controls. We're hoping they can install electric door latches, too,
so we can reach to open the door. It's costing us a fortune but what
else can we do?"

"How are you going to carry the keys and your driver's license?" I
wondered.

"Oh, get this. Pokey talked to someone named Ann Tueld this morning.
I guess she runs a leather store called Ann's Hides. Anyway, this Ann
Tueld said she's going to make us some collars with purse pockets
attached! Can you believe it? I can hardly wait to see if she
includes little bells."

"You seem a little taken back," I observed.

"Oh, no, not really. I can't think of a better alternative. What
would it be, a belt or a harness? We called Ann Tueld right away and
gave her our measurements."

"Calico, all of us here are going through tremendous changes in our
bodies. None of it makes any sense. Do you have any idea why you and
Tiger became catlike?"

"Neither of us were hoping for such a thing, that's for sure, Doug!
We didn't hate cats but we never took an interest in them, either. We
never owned a cat or collected cat statues or anything like that."

"So you have no idea why you became catlike as opposed to, say,
doglike or snakelike?"

"Tiger and I have talked about it and we can't find any pattern,
Doug."

Calico had been balancing on the fence rail for quite a while with no
visible effort. She must have guessed my thoughts because she rose
from her sitting position and began pacing along the top edge of the
fence. It was only a few inches wide.

"You seem to have incredible balance," I remarked.

"No kidding! I can't believe how easy this is! My reflexes are
lightning fast and my balance is much better than it ever was before.
Tiger has been helping Hank with the flagpoles all day."

Looking toward the East, I saw Tiger climbing to the top of the fifth
flagpole. It seemed strange to have so many poles lined up in an out-
of-the-way area and I couldn't guess why there were there. In any
event, Tiger had climbed to the top and seemed to be inspecting and
lubricating the mechanism. Back on the ground, Hank was operating a
remote control device. I couldn't imagine why a flagpole would need
remote control; it was one more curious fact to ponder.

"Maybe there's a business opportunity in above-ground work," I mused.

"Well, Tiger wants to stay in the jewelry business. We're meeting a
contractor tomorrow morning to talk about building higher walkways
behind the counters. That's the other bad part, you know; walking
around with my eyes just a few feet off the ground. I'm starting to
recognize people by their crotches and butts instead of by their
faces. Tiger and I weigh as much as ever and we're longer, but I hate
being so close to the ground all the time."

"Maybe there's some kind of chair you can sit in," I suggested.

"We tried Spike's high-backed desk chair and a high-backed Queen Anne
chair in Smooth's living room. Neither worked. We're top heavy and
our butts just aren't made for balancing our spines in an upright
position. Tell me, Doug, how did the other people at the restaurant
react to the cat people?"

"I didn't notice any reaction at all. They were accepted."

"Well, that's good. I still don't know what we'd wear at the shop."

"I see more and more places posted Clothing Optional or Clothing
Prohibited," I suggested.

"That would solve the problem, all right. Have there been any
complaints or police hassles?"

"Not that I've heard of. Back in Illinois I saw a conservative town
go completely decorated and completely nude in just a few week's time.
They had some help, but the same thing might happen here."

"What kind of help?" Calico asked. I pondered what to tell her.

"It seems that metal objects can act as carriers of the urge to get
decorated. If an affected person wears jewelry for a while and then
gives it to someone else, that other person develops the same urges.
Someone in Stratford Estates decided to conquer the world and began
deliberately selling contaminated pieces. Let me add that I
disapproved completely," I explained.

"You know, we bought a ton of earrings from a place called Gilt &
Trim. They were located in Stratford Estates. The earrings sold like
hotcakes and then the customers came back the next day and blew their
bank accounts. We only pierce ears and noses but everybody wanted
more. All we could do is recommend the local tattoo parlor. Do you
suppose all that had anything to do with what happened to us?"

"That was probably the start of it, Calico. La Cloma is probably a
hotbed of decoration and nudity by now. Is there any way to check?"

Calico scampered back toward the guest house. I jogged along beside
her and hurdled the fence when she ducked under it. I got much more
elevation than I expected and nearly flew into the guest house wall.
Calico hopped through the front door and picked up the telephone. She
had trouble holding it, as if she had mittens on. She held the
receiver to her ear, which now protruded from her temple, and dialed
with a claw.

"Sandy, it's Calico. Hello to you, too. What's new? No, I won't
laugh. Yes, strange things have been happening to me, too. What!
No! What do you look like? What about Rocky? Yeah? Like, can you
two still do it? Wow, it must be incredible! Tiger and I have become
cats. Yes, with four paws, a tail, and pointy ears. No, we use our
front arms both for walking and for holding things. Really? I don't
have a suit that fits; not even close. You should see my tits; I've
got eight of them now! OK, but listen. What are people wearing in La
Cloma these days? Uh huh. What about the police? No! OK, we'll
meet you there if we can. Uh huh. OK. Bye."

"Well?" I asked impatiently. Calico was staring into deep space.

"Oh, that was Sandy Beitsch, an old friend of mine. She and her
husband Whitey are public accountants."

"And?"

"Well, they've become mermaids! Or a mermaid and a merman, I guess
you would say. Sandy says they don't look anything like the
traditional pictures, though. She says that from the neck down they
look like a cross between a dolphin and a crocodile. They have long
flat tails like a dolphin for swimming and short stubby arms and legs
like a crocodile for walking on dry land."

"So, can they still do it?" I asked.

"Doug, it's not polite to eavesdrop! Yes, but only underwater.
Rocky's legs aren't long enough to straddle Sandy and he keeps
slipping off. It would have been hilarious to watch them try it the
first time, don't you think? Anyway, they're going to the beach
today. I'd love to see them. Do you know how Tiger and I could get a
ride?"

"I take it they've found a nude beach? I thought so. Well, if Hank
and Tiger are done, Hank can drive my car. What's the dress code in
La Cloma?"

"Oh, the mayor was working in her office and, just to be comfortable,
had removed her clothes. Some TV people came in for an interview and
she forgot to get dressed until she was halfway through the interview.
The producer and a cameraman burst into the police chief's office to
demand the mayor's arrest but the chief was nude, sprawled out on his
desk, and getting a badge tattooed onto his butt. The chief gave the
producer a "crime stopper" appreciation ring and things just
progressed from there. All the policemen have their badges tattooed
on their butts now, and the state and county cops refuse to enter the
city. Is it really OK to borrow your car?"

It was quickly arranged. Hank said the flagpoles didn't need to be
finished until Saturday morning so he and Tiger immediately quit for
the day. The front seat of my car was already pushed back and Hank
somehow got his enormous frame behind the wheel. Tiger and Calico sat
on all fours, Calico in front and Tiger in the back. Calico waved her
paw as they left, and I hoped they didn't get picked up for driving
nude. I believe they did take some beach towels, though.

After Calico and the others left, I strolled around the grounds and
thought for quite a while. I, Lisa, and eight others were turning
into gargoyles, for lack of a better term. Priscilla, Sue, Sid, and
Mbuno had changed into hermaphrodites. Tiger and Calico were human
cats, and the Beitsch's had become half-human and half-fish. The
changes occurred during sex, especially group sex, and affected
partners the same way. However, there seemed to be no connection
between the couples and the forms they assumed. At least, no
determining factor was apparent so far.

I wondered if people changed into mythical creatures they themselves
remembered from legend, or whether the legends originated from
outbreaks of changes centuries ago. The Anasazi were seemingly
affected hundreds of years ago; perhaps mystics and storytellers in
ancient Egypt, Greece, Rome, and other places had seen people changed
in the same way that I, Lisa, Calico, and the others were being
changed now.

The Pearson's motor home was parked on a cement pad along the South
wall and was fully connected to electricity and plumbing. Another
unit, presumably Strand's, stood beside it and was similarly attached.
I wondered again why anyone would go to such trouble just to
accommodate total strangers.

I was watching Phylen and Trace relax by the pool when an unfamiliar
car arrived. Phylen and her friend had assumed a very strange
position: their knees were on the ground, their waists were bent over
the edge of a bench, and their backs arched upward allowing them to
rest their arms on the edge of the table. I began to wonder if they
were turning into snakes! If so, it seemed totally unfair; who wanted
to be a snake? They seemed in good spirits, though.

The unfamiliar car entered the gate and a clothed couple I'd never
seen before knocked at Smooth and Clipper's house. They emerged
moments later with their clothes over their arms and following Marble,
who was wearing her Roller Blades. She led them toward the motor
homes much as she'd led us to the guest house on our first day. I
made a pretense of taking a stroll around the perimeter and happened
to be walking past as they opened the trunk.

"Hi, Marble. Do you need some help?" I asked.

"Do you know where Hank is?" she responded. "He needs to bring this
stuff in. Cynthia's in the middle of her session and can't come
either."

"I don't mind helping, Marble. Why don't you introduce me to the new
guests?"

"What? I thought you knew them quite well: I guess appearances can be
deceiving. Doug, meet Dr. Allen Damihnd and his assistant, Ada Kamp,"
said Marble, pointing her hand toward the visitors.

It had been three weeks since I'd seen Damihnd and Ada, and I should
have been ready for anything. I wasn't. The two of them were
absolutely identical except that one had a pussy and the other had a
cock and balls. Both had little breast development and no hair;
height, build, faces, and other features were absolutely identical.
Their chests, backs, and thighs were tattooed with pictographs from
the cavern walls and they wore various items of Indian jewelry, but
only a few pierced earrings and one nose ring.

"Doug Trents, isn't it?" asked the one with male equipment.

"Yes, that's right, good observation! I've been through some changes
lately, or at least Lisa's body has," I replied.

"Looks can certainly be deceiving. We must learn to trust our minds.
Tell me, to whom do you have the pleasure of speaking?"

That was easy. There were only two choices, and one of them spoke
like a normal human being. "You are Allen Damihnd," I asserted.

"Exactly so. I leave identification of Ada Kamp to you as an
exercise. I see you have embarked on a fascinating narrative thread.
How do you find your adventure?" Damihnd probed.

"Puzzling. I'm sure I'm headed somewhere at great speed, but I don't
know where and I certainly don't feel in control."

"Marvelous! You have an outstanding grasp of the situation. My
advice is to avoid being overly inquisitive and just follow your
instincts. I take it that Lisa and some others in the vicinity are
undergoing the same changes as yourself. Wanda and Saul, I suppose,
and perhaps some of the staff here at the estate. Perhaps some of
Lisa's relatives. I see by your expression that I'm right. Yes.
Well, I have some calls to make. Why don't you continue this
discussion with Ada? I'll see you later. Don't thank me. Be
prepared for anything. Good day."

Damihnd was already halfway into Pearson's trailer when he finished
his last sentence. His bags were still in the car, and I started to
remove them.

"You don't have to do that," said Ada. It was uncanny that her voice
sounded exactly like Damihnd's. Of course, her expression and choice
of words were completely different.

"Just when I think no more surprises are possible, something happens,"
I sighed. "I thought you two were done playing musical organs."

"Oh, it was fascinating for a few weeks. Two of my lovers, in
particular, never tired of hearing me explain what I felt during
intimacy. Nothing stays new forever, though, and then your boss
arrived."

"Eric Tower? How does he fit in?"

"Not at all, occasionally. I'm very thirsty; can we get a drink?"

I led Ada to the pool deck and offered her whatever was in the cabana
bar. There were two choices: Dos Equis and Caffeine-Free Diet Jolt.
We took the beer.

"Did you know your boss, Eric, was a twin? No? Well, he and his
sister Erica were born together. As children, they lived in a small
town and spent much of their time together: same class in school, same
church education, same family outings, that sort of thing. When
puberty set in, they spent long hours examining each other and talking
about their experiences as male and female. Somehow, they each
developed an intense curiosity about what life would be like in the
other's body."

"So they came to Alan and requested a body switch," I surmised. Of
course, that had been Eric's intention from the moment in his hideout
when he learned of the situation Lisa and I were in.

"Exactly. Nothing is ever simple, though. Both Eric and Erica were
married to heterosexuals. Ivana couldn't imagine sleeping next to
Erica's body, even though she knew Eric would be inside it. Perry
Shaw, that's Erica's husband, said he couldn't be intimate with his
wife or anyone else who had Eric's body."

"I take it that Ivana and Perry had no inclination to switch bodies
themselves," I surmised.

"Well, they weren't completely against the idea but they didn't want
to switch with each other. Ivana didn't like Perry's heavy bone
structure, and Perry didn't like Ivana's pale skin, which forced her
to keep out of the sun. By that time, Allen and Dr. Surtz had entered
many of the cavern narratives into an artificial intelligence
knowledge base. There are hundreds of narratives in the second
cavern, you know. Well, they came up with a solution but it required
eight people. Alan scanned the list of sophomores who had volunteered
to participate in psychology experiments. He found a guy built like a
twig who wished he looked like a tank. He also located a woman with
dark Latin skin who wanted a fair complexion.

"The eight of us all headed to the second cavern for a group
experience. Eric and Erica were at one corner, and Ivana, Perry,
Alan, the two sophomores, and I were at the other corner. Alan and I
had set the crystals and reflectors ahead of time and the experience
occurred right on schedule."

"Was the outcome as planned?" I asked with interest. Perhaps Damihnd
had figured out a way to make sense of everything.

"Not completely. Alan suspects that Eric and Erica being twins was an
unaccounted factor. The eight of us are identical twins now, with all
our features somehow averaged."

"Aren't you two sets of identical quadruplets?" I asked.

"Oh, you mean male and female? How amusing! Watch!"

Ada sat on the edge of her chair and spread her knees wide apart. She
exerted some sort of pressure from inside her abdomen and her pussy
lips started to balloon outward. A lump began emerging from the top
of her mons, and soon she displayed a well-developed cock and balls.

"I take it you can also draw yourself back inside at will?" I
surmised.

"Exactly," Ada replied, drawing her masculine-appendages back inside
herself until only feminine outer lips were visible. After a moment,
she pushed the cock and balls back out. In that mode, she looked
exactly like Damihnd.

"Uh, pardon me, but how do you go to the bathroom?" I asked.

"I imagine it's behind the cabana, where I see those little "men" and
"women" figures on the wall. Sorry, I know what you mean. I piss any
way I feel like it. Also, it depends which washroom I'm in. Any more
questions?"

"Two. First, why have you two come here? Second, do you understand
where all these events are headed?"

"I'm here because Alan pays me to assist him. Alan wants to question
you and the others, and he desperately wants to meet Hal and Carla
Slied. I take it those two are going through some severe changes?"

"It would seem so, but Saul Bohnes is the only person they've
discussed it with. Saul feels bound by physician's confidentiality.
Have they spoken with Dr. Damihnd?"

"No, not at all. Alan had deduced some key role for Hal and Carla,
though. It would parallel the narratives. It's frustrating, but he
keeps dodging most of my questions and telling me to follow my
intuition. Have you discovered anything?"

"I'm convinced the owners here know something. They're Smooth and
Clipper Strand and Pokey and Spike Pearson. You met Bonnie and Robin
Banks in Santa Fe; they swapped bodies the Friday before Lisa and I
did. I believe they may be involved too."

"You make it sound like a conspiracy, Doug," Ada observed.

"I don't think anyone is planning to do harm, Ada. I do believe
people are preparing for something, and that I'm involved without my
knowledge."

"Trust your instincts, Doug," Ada suggested.

"My instincts tell me not to trust my instincts. Well, let me take in
those bags for you."

We each grabbed another Dos Equis and headed back to the motor homes.
Damihnd and Ada had brought very few clothes but they each had a large
jewelry case and a second large bag containing makeup. Damihnd had
also packed a case of notes, some portable PC's, and a printer. None
of it seemed heavy but I made two trips just to make sure I didn't
drop the computers. Damihnd was speaking intently on the phone but
motioned for me to put the computers on a table nearby. Ada pulled
the machines out of their cases and began connecting power, modem, and
network cables.

"Alan will need two more phone lines. Let's go find Marble," Ada
suggested.

We searched for quite a while before discovering Marble and Shag
sitting on a tree branch about thirty feet above the ground. Ada
asked Marble to come down and Shag dropped a rope. Marble slid down
expertly without bruising her bare skin at all.

"Do you spend much time up a tree?" I asked Marble.

"Oh, no, just every now and then. I like to watch people and think.
Shag likes the climbing part better. What's up? Is everything OK,
Ada?" I have no idea how Marble knew it was Ada and not Damihnd.

"Dr. Damihnd needs two more phone lines. Is there any chance of
getting them put in?" Ada inquired.

"Oh sure, I'll leave a note for Cynthia and she'll call the phone
people first thing in the morning. Will that be OK?"

"Yes, that's fine. What do you do for dinner?"

"Most days are nice like today and we eat on the patio. I already
told Dan and Dee you'll be coming. It's from six to seven; don't
dress."

Ada told me she had unpacking to do and excused herself. I wandered
back to the guest house and found Lisa working out again. There were
two messages on the answering machine: Dotty Lyon said that InstaFlo's
quotation for the CosmaTech equipment was ready and wondered if I
could meet with her and an engineer Wednesday at ten. The second
message was from Mera Thonn, who said her organization was interested
in obtaining several CosmaTech franchises. Mera had already booked a
flight that arrived in San Francisco at 12:30 PM Wednesday and
wondered if I could meet her at the airport. I returned both calls
and got an answering machine each time, so I just left messages saying
the proposed appointments were fine. I also called Cynthia's machine
and asked her to schedule a meeting room for twenty people Friday
afternoon and send out notices to everyone who received a prospectus.

It was almost dinner time so I turned on the hot tub and began
stripping off my daytime makeup. Lisa joined me for a relaxing dip in
the warm bubbling waters, though our huge bodies made the top
overflow. Afterwards we dried each other and sat by the makeup stand
painting designs on our heads and shoulders.

Dr. Damihnd, Saul, and Wanda arrived before us and were sitting at a
distant table, speaking earnestly and rapidly. Ada and met Priscilla,
Sue, Mbuno, and Sid, and they were all laughing and exchanging
stories. Phylen and Trace had resumed their strange position lying on
benches with their backs arched. There weren't many seats left so
after ordering we joined them.

"Hi, guys! Are you really comfortable in that position?" Lisa asked.

"Lisa, you can't imagine the back pains we've been having all day.
This is the only position that feels good. We can barely walk around,
you know, because we're so top heavy. Calico and Tiger say they had
the same kind of pains just before their arms and legs changed," said
Phylen.

"Wherever this is leading, I wish we could get it over with," Trace
added.

"Do you have an idea or a preference for the outcome?" I asked.

"No, not at all. Maybe we're going to be dachshunds," said Trace.

"How about snakes?" I asked.

Phylen stared back at me. "How bizarre, Doug! I hope it's not
snakes, but like Trace I wish we were done with it. This new doctor,
Damihnd, can he help us?"

"He knows some things but not enough, Phylen. There are always side
effects to whatever he does. You can't solve all your problems; you
can only trade them for different ones," I explained.

"What would you want to be?" Lisa asked.

"Back to normal would be OK," Phylen replied. "Tiger and Calico say
their experience is fascinating, though, and it allows them to
consider totally new lifestyles. I don't want to be a cockroach or a
frog or The Fly, but there are many interesting possibilities."

"I wouldn't want to be a snake and not have hands and arms," Trace
stated.

"Well, so far, everyone has hands and arms, even Calico and Tiger. In
fact, Calico talked to someone today who became a mermaid. This is
second-hand, but their bodies are a cross between a dolphin and a
crocodile from the neck down. They still have arms and legs for
walking on dry land."

Dee brought my plate, which was full of pork knuckles as I'd
requested. Lisa had three chickens, cooked whole. Phylen and Trace
were eating a pressed mixture of oats, wheat stalks, and molasses. We
were still eating when Victor and Katie arrived with a sheaf of
sketches and construction notes. They ordered pork knuckles with a
side order of liver chunks.

The Kahrs had decided that Buckskin West would be a complete Clothing
Free facility. The rooms would lack any sort of fixtures required for
clothing, such as dressers, hangers, and rods. The space saved would
be used for large makeup tables, ultrasonic jewelry cleaners, and
double-width whirlpool tubs. Off the lobby would be a miniature
Essence Alley with a full range of services for the nude decorated
traveler. Victor also thought there was an opportunity in providing
makeup assistance, piercing, and tattooing in the rooms. The pool
area would have common showers and the restaurant would have snap-on
seat covers that could be changed after each use.

Various conversations continued until Dee and Dan closed the serving
line and cleaned up. Tiger, Calico, and Hank returned at seven thirty
saying they'd eaten dinner at a family restaurant in La Cloma.
Judging from the clientele, Tiger was sure the jewelry business would
be fantastic when he got his shop opened up again. The conversations
quieted as the sun went down and soon Phylen and Trace were strolling
toward the guest house, helping each other to balance. Wanda and Saul
followed them and the rest of us strolled behind.

Calico remarked loudly that she wondered what it was like to have all
her tits sucked at once. She rolled onto her back and Tiger obliged
her immediately. Sue, Priscilla, and Ada lined up beside him on
Calico's left side while Mbuno, Sid, Damihnd, and Dee lined up on her
right. Phylen and Trace both rested on their backs and were mounted
by Victor and Katie. Wanda carefully inserted Saul's cock into
Cynthia, taking care not to rub against the hundreds of incisions left
by Drubla's work during the day. Hank, Dan, and Lisa began a circle
jerk leaving me and Saul to eat Wanda's and Lisa's pussies.

I was on the bottom under Saul and Wanda's hips pressed hard against
Lisa's breasts. My canine tongue extended far into Wanda's pussy and
I was able to flick it around forcibly. Saul moaned and stuck Wanda's
tongue deep into Lisa's pussy, pressing her clitoris with Wanda's
chin. Wanda's body was over two hundred pounds but Lisa's was so
strong that I didn't feel uncomfortable at all. I bucked Lisa's pussy
and tits against Wanda's mouth and hips, and Saul used his more
flexible position to intensify the sensation for both of us.

Calico was squealing in ecstasy from having her eight nipples
stimulated all at once. Damihnd had twisted to face Dee and extended
his cock so they could couple. Mbuno and Sid were hooked up as well,
though I couldn't tell who had what in what. Tiger had his catlike
cock shoved into Sue's pussy and Ada seemed to have extended her cock
into Priscilla, though it was hard to tell. Hank, Dan, and Lisa were
standing in a triangle, each with one hand massaging the cock or balls
to their left and right.

As usual, the climax began as sexual release. I quickly left Lisa's
body and observed the scene from overhead. A herd of ponies were
furiously pumping each other outside the guest house but I was
distracted by another scene. Standing on top of Strand's patio roof
were Smooth, Clipper, Pokey, and Spike, watching the proceedings with
great interest. I scarcely had time to think about it when everything
blacked out, then the flashes began, and I returned to the intensely
lit chamber full of changed people. Although I couldn't see her, I
sensed Lisa at my side. A huge gargoyle, ten feet tall at least,
stepped forward and placed his hands on my head. I was just noticing
his ornate tattoos and huge cock when my consciousness returned to the
guest house.

Saul rolled off me and I propped Lisa's elbow on the floor to get a
better look at Phylen and Trace. At first, all I could see was a
tangle of arms and legs, then Victor and Katie rolled away. I
couldn't believe my eyes. Phylen and Trace had grown a second pair of
hoofed legs a short distance below their arms! Trace tried to get up
but immediately fell down, landing on Mbuno and Sid. Everyone scooted
aside as Trace tried to get up again. Phylen was shrieking as Trace
rolled onto to his stomach then extended all four legs. His abdomen
remained horizontal but his chest was vertical! The implications of
the ponies outside were clear: Phylen and Trace had become centaurs!
This was even more evident when Phylen also stood on four legs. She
was weeping openly and hugging Trace, then she looked at the rest of
us and bolted out the door. Trace shot after her; neither of them
seemed to be having any difficulty with four-legged coordination.

Priscilla, Sue, Sid, and Mbuno stood up to leave. They didn't seem to
have changed much except for being a little larger overall. Tiger and
Calico looked and walked a little different, but hadn't received any
major changes. Damihnd and Ada remained identical to their appearance
in the afternoon. The eight of them looked us over and then headed
off to their respective quarters.

The rest of us sat on the floor and looked at each other for quite a
while. We didn't have a single human ankle or a foot among us: just
two hocks and two hoofs each. I was still in shock but Dee voiced
what we all were thinking.

"How the hell are we ever going to stand and balance?"

Cynthia replied, "Well, I don't plan to spent the rest of my life in a
wheelchair. Do any of you? We have to try sometime!" With that, she
scooted over to the kitchen entrance, curled her legs under herself,
and slowly stood. She steadied herself by bracing her hands against
the edge of the wall and was soon smiling at us from her full height.
It was clear that her entire leg structure had been altered. Her
thighs were much thicker than before, her calves were much thinner,
and of course the ankle, foot, and toes had been replaced by hocks,
equine shins, and hoofs.

"Are you going to straighten your legs?" Wanda asked.

"That's easy for you to say, sitting on the floor. This is as
straight as they go. Try it!" challenged Cynthia. Soon all ten of us
were standing near a corner or doorway balancing ourselves with our
hands. Victor started raising his hoofs and moving them forward and
back, right and left.

"Are you showing us how you can count?" teased Katie.

"That's not amusing, my dear," he answered. "I'm getting ready to
take a step. If I start to fall, please catch me." A moment later,
Victor stepped away from the wall and walked across the room. He
reached the opposite wall without incident and soon all ten of us were
dashing from handhold to handhold just like toddlers.

I found that walking wasn't too tough, but running was easier.
Walking required balance but running just required falling forward.
Standing was the hardest of all, but I found that swinging Lisa's tail
helped. It probably would have been easier to stand and walk with
Lisa's hands but I didn't want to keep using that solution forever.

Katie and Victor soon bid everyone goodnight and trotted toward their
bedroom. Cynthia, Hank, the Tweedles, and the Bohnes practiced a
little longer but then headed for their rooms as well. Just as Lisa
was about to sit down we heard the sound of galloping hoofs on the
service road. I sprinted out the door with Lisa right behind me.
Phylen and Trace were out of sight but in less than thirty seconds I
heard them approaching again. Lisa and I began jogging and were soon
overtaken. Phylen was laughing and singing in the moonlight as she
galloped.

"Doug, this is fantastic! My pains are gone and I can run like the
wind!" Phylen exclaimed.

"You seemed quite upset earlier," Lisa noted.

"Well, I was surprised and in shock; that's for sure," Phylen
answered. "I don't know what I expected but it wasn't this. I feel
so free! Do you feel that way, Doug?"

"I feel a great weight on my shoulders, Phylen. I feel I have a role
to play but don't know what it is. I feel like Pandora after she
opened her box."

"Be true to yourself and take opportunities as they come," Phylen
suggested. "Are we going too fast for you?"

"Lisa and I were doing better than twenty miles an hour this morning,
Phylen," I replied.

"Well, Trace and I can gallop but you and Lisa can only canter.
You're fast but four legs are better than two."

"You've adjusted to your changes very rapidly, Phylen," remarked Lisa.

"There's no going back, right?" Trace noted.

"Not that I know of," I replied.

"Then we should adapt quickly. What else is there? Denial? Hardly.
Depression? Accomplishes nothing. Anger? At whom? Screw it, I say,
let's gallop! What a feeling!"

We ran five more laps with them and then dropped aside when we reached
the guest house. The sky was clear but the moon was only a narrow
crescent. No outside lights were burning and I marveled at the
tremendous number of stars that were visible. Lisa's eyes were quite
accustomed to the darkness by then and I clearly saw the Strands and
Pearsons still standing on the same patio roof. I trotted over and
surprised myself by leaping onto the roof; I only figured to catch the
edge with Lisa's hands and then pull the rest of her body up.

All four of them were still there. Spike was standing behind Pokey
and Smooth was hovering behind Clipper. Facial expressions were
impossible to see in the dim light but they knew I was upset. Clipper
spoke first, and nothing he said could have surprised me more.

"Doug, you're the luckiest guy on Earth."

"Right! Ask anyone! They'd obviously rather be a gargoyle with horse
hoofs than a centaur, a cat, a mermaid, a hermaphrodite, or, forgive
me, the body they grew up with."

It was Spike who continued. "You can't know how long we've waited for
these events, hoping it would be for us. As it turns out, we're
bystanders again."

"You've seen all this happen before then! When? What happened to all
the people?"

"We've seen it before, but never close to this intensity. A handful
of people were involved, not millions. You'd have seen it in the news
or the history books." Clipper explained.

"What happened to those people?" I demanded.

"They moved on. It was an incredible experience for them. I tell you
again, Doug, you're the luckiest guy on Earth."

"What will happen to me?" I probed.

"We don't know," came Pokey's voice.

What about Lisa, or Cynthia, Priscilla, and the others?"

"We don't know," said Pokey again.

"But I'm incredibly lucky?" I asked again.

"Incredibly," agreed all four, almost in one voice.

"What about Cloud of Many Storms?"

Spike sighed and admitted, "Claude has been waiting much longer than
we have."

"He's the last Anasazi, isn't he?"

There was no response but I knew I was right. Claude Storm had been
waiting seven hundred years. At that moment, I knew that the four had
told me everything of value they could. The rest depended on me. I
would have to trust my intuition.

Chapter 64. Organization Wednesday, Week 7

I woke with a resolution to just get through the day and skip all the
probing and soul searching. Lisa and I trotted eighteen miles in
forty minutes, grabbed a quick breakfast of dried fruit and nuts, got
ourselves measured, painted our faces, and hung our jewelry all before
seven thirty. Lisa's tits and hips had grown another two inches but
her waist stayed the same. We'd each gained another twenty pounds of
bone and muscle. Of course, it was hard to compare height because our
toes, feet, and ankles had been stretched vertically into hoofs,
shins, and hocks. Lisa's head towered six feet and seven inches from
the floor, and mine was an even seven feet.

Cynthia had been speaking for days with Drubla Tribeula about her
face. Drubla wanted to talk her out of it but Cynthia had done
several sketches of herself showing various patterns imposed on her
forehead, cheeks, head, and neck. Her favorite resembled a fleur-de-
lis that began just above her nose, widened across her forehead, and
extended down to her ears. Her cheeks would be marked with a similar
pattern starting just above her mouth and spreading toward her
nostrils and ears. A fourth fleur-de-lis would emerge from the
pattern on her back, traverse the back of her head, and widen at the
top of her scalp. It was hideous and fascinating at the same time.
Somehow, she'd talked Sue into getting the same thing done to Mbuno.

At eight o'clock we gave Tiger a ride to pick up his van, passing
Drubla and his men as they drove toward the estate. Tiger was wearing
one of the pocket collars Ann Tueld had designed and a huge pair of
shorts that Andy Reghatti had made up at Clipper's request. The
custom shop had done a great job and Tiger had no trouble driving the
van after the controls were explained to him. He sure looked
uncomfortable wearing those shorts, though.

Lisa and I quickly checked progress on our remodeling projects and
found everything going smoothly. All the workers were decorated by
then and wore only what was necessary to prevent injury. Qubie was
there, looking as he always did in his rumbled clothes. I spoke to
him about getting the old freight elevator running, and he said he
would get an estimate. My reasoning was that Phylen and other people
affected like her would have trouble with the staircase, though I told
Qubie I was planning for heavy lab equipment and supplies.

We left Essence Alley at nine thirty at arrived at InstaFlo just
before ten o'clock. The receptionist took one look at us and
immediately offered to hang up our clothing. I hesitated until Lisa
pointed to a sign that read:

InstaFlo Is Clothing Optional for Customers and Employees.
Clothed Customers May Request Employees to Dress.

Dotty Lyon appeared just as I was handing my skirt and bra to the
receptionist. She was still blank, fully dressed in a wool suit,
blouse, bra, slip, pantyhose, high heels, and, I suppose, panties.
Privately, I wondered how much time she spent putting all that stuff
on and arranging her hair every day.

"Good morning! You must be Doug Trents," she greeted Lisa.

"Everyone makes that mistake. I'm Lisa and this is Doug," Lisa
replied.

Dotty's eyes passed from my huge cock to Lisa's firm but oversized
breasts. She was a small woman and had to look past Lisa's pierced
nipples to make eye contact with me. "Good morning, Doug. I'm going
to have trouble remembering this, so please help me if I get confused.
We've finished the quotation on your equipment and are ready to
discuss it. Please follow me."

Lisa had to duck my head to get through the door, but the rest of our
walk through the engineering department was no problem. About two-
thirds of the engineers were decorated. Of these, all were nude
except one woman having a discussion with a blank man dressed in an
expensive suit. She had a short "spot" haircut, heavy makeup, and
jewelry mounted in her ears, nose, and lips. Her only garment was a
lab coat.

A conference room was our destination and a centaur was our engineer.
He introduced himself as Ken Bahn and declared himself an expert in
rapid, low cost electronics manufacturing. Dotty introduced Lisa and
me, then asked everyone to have a seat. Ken said he preferred to
stand but Lisa and I somehow got our legs under the table. As I
feared, Lisa's tits were right at Dotty's eye level.

"Doug, we've reviewed your design. We believe we can not only build
it, but improve it as well. Ken, would you explain?"

"Gladly, if only I can turn around and face the board. I'm not good
in tight spaces anymore. Ah, there. Doug, your design was obviously
a prototype build from readily available general purpose equipment.
We can take all that circuitry, eliminate what isn't needed for this
particular application, and miniaturize the rest. Here's the result."

Ken held up a small device about the size of a paperback book. One of
the large flat sides was metal and all the rest were plastic. A hand
grip and trigger were mounted on the side opposite the metal plate. A
thin flexible power cord ended in a standard electrical wall plug.

"Is that the entire system?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, except for two aerosol cans, yes. This is a working model. We
had a can of insulation spray in the back, and my wife works for a
doctor who gave her the anesthetic. We've been passing it around the
office since yesterday afternoon; all the secretaries love it. This
is quite an invention you have here, Doug. Do you have a good patent
lawyer?"

"Excellent," I assured him.

"Well, it was worth asking. We can produce these for $75 each in
quantities of 50 to 100. I know that may seem a little high, but
there's been a shortage of power semiconductors recently. Naturally,
we'll drop the price if component prices fall.

CosmaTech had started with sixty thousand dollars in the bank and had
been receiving commissions of roughly $18,000 a day for thirty days
from Zach and Roberta Fulton. A hundred depilatators would cost me
$7,500.

"How soon could you have 100 of them ready?" I asked.

"We could order the materials today and build them tomorrow," Ken Bahn
replied.

"The company is called InstaFlo for a reason," added Dotty.

"OK, we have a deal. I'll take 100, but I'd like to test the working
model today. If there's any reason to hold up production, I'll call
you first thing in the morning," I promised.

"We have to charge you for inventory held longer than one day," Dotty
warned. "Also, our terms are one day payment. We deliver the invoice
along with the goods and expect you to pay by electronic funds
transfer within one business day. Today's business occurrs at high
speed, Mr. Trents."

"I understand. If you have a standard work-order form, I'll sign it
right now." Dotty removed a typed form from her folder, wrote in the
quantity, and passed it to me for signature. A moment later it was a
done deal. Dotty, Lisa, and I waited in the hall while Ken maneuvered
his way out of the conference room, then I followed him to his office
to get the two aerosol cans. He'd removed his desk chair and placed a
wooden box on his desk to provide a higher writing surface.

"I see you and Lisa have been through some changes. Are you happy?"
Ken asked.

"Confused," I replied.

"Yeah, I hear you. My wife and I went out galloping last night though
and it was great. We hadn't jogged in years, you know, but we just
feel like a part of nature speeding down the fields and trails with
our hoofs beating the ground and the wind screaming past our skin. It
makes me think about giving this life up and just finding a nice open
field somewhere, you know? Yet, here I am today. Well, good luck
with your business."

Dotty walked us to the front door and the receptionist handed us our
clothes. I thanked Dotty while we dressed and she responded by
wishing that she could overcome her inhibitions and get in style with
the rest of the company. Lisa advised her to start with a few pieces
of borrowed jewelry and then we headed for the airport.

There was less traffic on Highway 101 than I feared and we arrived
early. With nothing to do but wait, Lisa bought a magazine called
"Decorated Vogue" and I bought copies of Newsweek and The San
Francisco Examiner. The airport wasn't very crowded so we sat in a
coffee shop and bought a few sandwiches.

The crowd passing by was something to see. Most of the people were
blanks, but many apparently came from areas where decoration and body
changes hadn't penetrated. Their reaction to even moderate decoration
was comical to say the least. The airlines had apparently given up
trying to enforce strict uniform guidelines for decorated employees;
several flight attendants strolled by in tiny shorts that had once
been airline slacks and bolero vests that had once been jackets. A
pilot walked by wearing only briefs and his captain's hat. He had
eagle's wings tattooed on his shoulder and angels on his hips. Most
of the decorated passengers were wearing cutoff shorts, briefs, or
loincloths. Some of the women wore miniskirts and all of them wore
some kind of top; airport security was checking. The "exposure of a
person" laws were being enforced at all gates and entrances. People
not adequately dressed were given a chance to put something on, buy a
long baggy T-shirt, or be arrested. It was pretty damn oppressive.

In the Examiner, decoration seemed to have become old news. Local
photos showed any decorated people who happened to be at a scene, but
there were no stories about it. Ads for tattoo parlors, pierced
jewelry, and leather goods were liberally sprinkled through all
sections. Macy's had a full-page add showing various styles of nipple-
piercing available at all stores.

Body changes, by contrast, seemed to be a hot story. The lifestyle
section had photos of several cat people, centaurs, mermaids, and
hermaphrodites. Statistics were quoted that up to ten percent of all
decorated people had experienced some sort of body change though many
were quite minor, such as a tail.

Another article featured interviews with several doctors who confirmed
that a general increase in health seemed to accompany body changes.
In addition, several advanced cases of AIDS and cancer had been
completely cured when the patient underwent body changes.
Unfortunately, the doctors had no idea how body changes could be
induced. One patient was quoted, "I'd rather be a healthy freak than
a dead blank. Wouldn't anyone?"

Several police chiefs and mayors were interviewed on decency
enforcement. All vowed to continue enforcing laws that demanded
coverage of human genitalia, buttocks, and female breasts. There was
less consensus on what coverage was required for cat people and
centaurs. One mayor put it succinctly, "Ask a centaur; do they have a
human butt or a horse butt? I bet they don't answer a horse butt!"

Newsweek reported that decoration had taken hold in eighteen states,
with pockets visible in most others. There was a long list of public
officials and celebrities who had adopted the style, including eleven
governors, twenty-three U.S. representatives, nine senators, eight
chief justices, and the First Family. Various singers, actors, and
musicians were listed, some of whom were insisting that all future
performances be designated clothing optional for audience and
performers alike. The economic section predicted a downturn for the
clothing, hair care, and laundry industries, but strong results for
jewelry and cosmetics. They must sit up all night analyzing this
stuff, I thought.

Lisa showed me several photos of decorated models. It was obvious
that most of the tattoos were fake, because the same model had
different work in different pictures. Still, it was apparent that
serious designers were approaching body decoration in a new way.
Designs tended to cross over and obscure traditional clothing
patterns. For example, most frontal designs flowed smoothly across
the waist, not dividing it as belts, pants, and skirts always had. In
back, designs tended to flow continuously from the shoulders to the
thighs. Women's designs tended to flow across and include the
breasts, not to cover them up. Jewelry was being pierced into unusual
places such as the shoulder blades, forearms, and temples. There were
a wide variety of buzzed hairstyles and many smooth scalps. No hair
was visible elsewhere except occasionally around the eyes.

At 12:15 we found the gate for Mera's flight and stood to wait. It
was a non-stop from Chicago with a return departure at 1:10; the
waiting area was starting to fill up with decorated people wearing
baggy T-shirts. Mera's flight arrived right on time and was greeted
by six security guards, a supervisor, and four T-shirt vendors who
entered the jetway before anyone deplaned. I sensed a bit of
commotion, then the supervisor, security guards, and vendors all
emerged without a scrap of clothing on! Two of the guards were
ripping open brand new electric clippers and the supervisor led them
to a power outlet.

I barely recognized Mera when she emerged. She was seven feet tall,
nude, deeply tanned, and wore a narrow black Mohawk that came to a
point over her forehead and at the back of her neck. Two long tails
emerged from the small of her back and she had seven fingers on each
hand: five in the middle and a thumb on each side. She had three
large breasts: two in the normal position and one higher up, just
below her neck. All three nipples were triple-pierced, with chains
threaded through the rings in a triangular pattern.

Mera wore two rings on each finger, a total of twenty-eight. Her feet
were normal with five toes, but each toe was adorned by a ring. The
toe rings were linked to medallions resting on top of her feet, and
the medallions were held in place by chains that passed around her
ankles. She had necklaces around her neck, more looped under her
arms, and more crossing her chest and ending at the waist. Her ears
were long and upright, like a deer's, and were covered with earrings.
Her cheeks were studded every quarter inch She had a dozen rings in
her nose, at least that many in her lips, and masses of them in her
navels and pussies. That's right: she had two navels and two pussies,
side by side.

Scenes and nude figures from mythology covered her skin everywhere. I
particularly liked Apollo kissing her pussy and Athena standing with
her feet on Mera's butt and her head between Mera's shoulder blades.

"Lisa, is that you? My, but you've changed! I though I'd be taller
than you now! Get rid of those clothes and let me have a look at you
both!"

"They've been arresting people for nudity, Mera," Lisa explained.

"Oh, right! That's what those security people tried to tell me. Now
look at them!" All eleven men were still nude. Eight were shaved
smooth and three were waiting their turn.

"Mera, did you contaminate those men?" I asked.

"No, they did it to themselves. They all touched me as they tried to
lead me away. Can you imagine? Anyway, do they look miserable?" I
looked and, sure enough, they were all smiling and joking even when
their captain approached them and demanded an explanation. One of the
men pointed toward Mera and the captain headed toward us.

"I'm very sorry, madam, but this area isn't clothing optional. Please
put something on. If you brought nothing with you, we have
inexpensive clothing you can buy. Otherwise, I'll have to bring you
in for charges," he recited, obviously for the zillionth time.

Mera held our her arm and challenged him, "Well, I refuse to dress.
Bring me in."

The captain grabbed Mera by the arm, touching several rings and
bracelets in the process. Suddenly, he let go of Mera and began
unbuttoning his uniform.

"Having a problem?" Mera asked.

"Yes, of course! How can anybody move inside a straight jacket like
this? My skin can't even breathe. Damn, if it's not one thing, it's
another. Look at me! I finally get those clothes off and now I'm
covered with hair!"

"I'm sure one of your men will shave you. Have a good day!" Mera
called after him. Mera was accompanied by a small retinue, one of
whom picked up the captain's uniform and stuffed it into the trash.
That's when I noticed Waylon Bellomore. He was just as tall as Mera
but not so heavily decorated. His entire body was covered with
tattooed images of currency, ledger books, coin boxes, and banks.
Like Mera, he had two tails. Fortunately for her, he also had two
fifteen inch cocks.

"Doug, not a single person left that plane wearing clothes," Lisa
commented.

"Yeah, well, that was unavoidable. How can I fly without touching the
plane?" Mera explained. "Excuse me, but let's go to baggage pickup.
I should stay with the passengers until they've left the airport. I
don't want any of them getting arrested." In fact, Mera affected six
more teams of security guards before we left the terminal. I don't
believe any others were on duty.

"Mera, how many people have you affected?" I asked.

"There's no way to count, Doug. Why?"

"We've had this discussion before, Mera. I don't believe in affecting
people without their knowledge and against their will."

"Well, it makes them happy, it makes me happy, and it should make you
happy. Look at the changes you've made in the world, Doug! Not many
people can make such a difference."

"It's one thing to persuade people or lead them, Mera, and quite
another to take over their minds."

"Is that what you told Eric Tower before he changed his outlook? By
the way, he's happy. Are you?"

I paused to think for a minute and Lisa took up the inquisition.
"Mera, how did those people get affected so fast?"

"I'm wearing 256 pieces of jewelry, each worn for a month by someone
else wearing pieces from 256 people. In total, I'm 65,536 times more
powerful than any single piece could be. It's potent, let me tell
you. I passed out the first time I put it all on, and that's when I
woke up with my third tit."

By then we had arrived at the baggage area. Suitcases were traveling
around the carousel and nude passengers were picking them up. One
woman with a haughty expression, massive jewelry, and a fresh haircut
called a skycap to handle her bags and the poor guy didn't make it
twenty feet before he was pulling his clothes off.

"Mera, why is that skycap affected?" I asked.

"I think I helped that woman with her bag in Chicago," Waylon
explained. "Anything we touch becomes an agent; coins, doorknobs,
light switches, handrails, cars, suitcase buckles, anything! I think
of it as the Midas touch."

"Are we ready to go?" I asked.

Mera delayed. "Let's wait for the rest of the passengers to get their
bags. I always wonder what they'll do with their dirty clothes when
they get home. I guess they haven't thought ahead to that yet. Look,
I have to make two phone calls. Let me know if any blank guards show
up." I watched helplessly as Mera touched three metal phone booths,
picked up the metal receiver, dropped in some metal coins, and punched
the metal buttons. I was sure several hundred travelers would be
affected within the next day just because of those two phone calls.

"Actually, making phone calls and touching doorknobs is pretty minor
stuff," Waylon consoled me. "Stepping on floor fixtures is the
primary vehicle."

"What?" I asked.

"Well, you know, like door jambs, gratings, expansion joints, and
those metal dividers in terrazzo floors," he explained.

"People don't touch those with their skin. They have shoes on," I
objected.

"The shoes have metal tacks in them," he replied.

I gave up and shut up. Even if Mera and Waylon hid in a hole for the
rest of their lives, there was no to stop the wave of contamination
they'd already started. Mera finished her phone calls and we headed
toward the parking garage. I didn't even worry about her touching the
moving sidewalks, escalators, door frames, and parked vehicles. Can
you imagine what it was like to look behind us and see waves of people
undressing?

"Doug, I'm amazed that California is still up tight about mandatory
clothing. Why hasn't someone gotten those outdated laws off the
books?"

"Well, I know two students who tried starting a movement on-campus and
they got arrested," I replied. "It seems they removed their clothes
before speaking out in favor of nudity."

"Of course they did! Anything else would be hypocritical, Doug, don't
you see?"

"The campus cops apparently saw plenty," I explained.

"When can I meet those students, and when is their court date?" Mera
wanted to know.

"This afternoon and tomorrow, respectively," I replied.

Mera was fabulously happy and brimmed all the way back to the estate.
Hank got them settled in Strand's motor home, then they spent most of
the afternoon strolling around and meeting people. Everyone compared
bodies with great interest, especially Sue and Mbuno, who also had
dual sex organs. Of course, Priscilla, Sue, Mbuno, and Sid had two
different organs arranged vertically, not two like organs side by
side.

Hank and Tiger were back at work on the flagpole equipment. I tried
probing Hank for information about the project, but he said that
Clipper hadn't explained the reason for it. Tiger said his van
modifications worked out perfectly and that new raised floors behind
the counters would allow him and Calico to open for business on
Monday. They'd eaten lunch at Coming Buck'd and met three other
couples who'd become catlike; they all exchanged telephone numbers and
talked about getting together for outings.

Dan and Dee arrived home from classes at about four o'clock. I
introduced them to Mera, who questioned them in the kitchen for half
an hour. I found out later that Mera also had a long telephone call
with Robin. Mera and Sue ate early then headed into town in Sue's
car.

Those of us who went out during the day talked about other changed
people we'd seen. The cat changes seemed to be the most common, then
centaurs, then people with simple changes such as a short tail.
Hermaphrodites were hard to detect, given the clothing laws still in
effect. Very few mermaids and mermen were seen, although people
affected that way would probably gravitate toward the beaches. No one
had seen gargoyles, except those in our own group. Very few people
reacted with surprise upon seeing us; perhaps most of them were shell
shocked or just expecting anything.

Mera and Sue returned at eight o'clock but refused to disclose their
destination. Sue had clued Mera in to our nightly routine; Mera took
Lisa by the hand and the two of them began strolling toward the guest
house. Waylon crooked his finger at me and we headed inside together,
finding Mera and Lisa already embraced on the bed. Waylon's cocks
stiffened and Lisa's pussy began flowing. Trace and Calico, an
unlikely pair if ever there was one, occupied the space between the
bed and the dresser. This filled the room.

Waylon massaged the Lisa's shoulders and the back of her neck for a
while, then pressed his mouth to her left tit. His cocks were
straddling Lisa's left leg, so I massaged his right cock by hand while
squeezing the left one between Lisa's legs. Lisa apologized to Mera
for not filling both her cunts, but Mera brushed it off saying that
wouldn't be a problem. Calico was on her back with paws on Trace's
side, and Trace was on four knees rocking his cock gently into her.
Waylon raised himself up, pushed his right cock into Lisa's pussy, and
let the left one angling between her belly and his.

The moans and cries from the living room and the other bedroom were
intensifying. I began hearing rustling noises through the window.
Lisa's pussy was as soft and pliant as I ever remembered it. Sensing
this, Waylon raised his hips and inserted both cocks at once.
Fortunately, I had two condoms in the night stand drawer. Having two
cocks in Lisa's pussy felt different that a single cock ever had; they
moved around separately, producing a different sensation than one
large cock ever could. I heard Lisa call out a single word,
"Unbelievable!", then everyone came.

It was cats swarming the estate that night: thousands of them. There
was no sign of the Pearsons or Strands, and I wondered for a moment if
we were all destined to look like Tiger and Calico. The darkness set
in, then the light, then the huge creature who looked like me. He put
his hand on my head again, stared into my eyes, and spoke two words:
"Guide them!"

To my relief, Tiger was still the only cat person in the bedroom;
however, all six of us had acquired yellow, cat-like eyes with
vertical pupils. I relaxed as Waylon pulled his cocks out of Lisa
pussies. That's right: Lisa's body had developed another pussy! No
wonder having two cocks inserted felt different! Lisa stood up and
displayed two cocks, each identical to the one my body possessed
twenty minutes earlier. In addition, we had each gained a nipple just
below our throats!

Mera was still on her back in our bed. I looked accusingly toward her
and she began chanting, "Double your pleasure, double your fun, with
double-cock, double-cunt, double-good cum." I threw a pillow at her
but she raised her hand and deflected it.

"Mera, you knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" I accused.

"Uh, predicting is tough, especially the future," she replied.

"How long have you and Waylon been equipped with double sex organs?" I
asked.

"Since last Thursday," Waylon replied.

"How many different people did you have sex with?" probed Lisa.

"Not counting you two, three couples," Waylon replied.

"How many of those couples ended up with double sex organs," I asked.

"Two couples; the other pair were already hermaphrodites. Big deal.
You're twice the woman you used to be, Doug," Mera opined.

"Mera, we've explained this to you before. I'm Doug, not Lisa, and
I'm a man. This is Lisa's body, that's all. Lisa is still herself, a
woman, despite being in my body. I didn't want my body to have two
cocks, and I didn't want Lisa's body to have two pussies. Neither of
us wanted another tit. Don't you feel the same Lisa?" I ranted.

"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it, Doug. It's not as bad as
having horse hoofs, goat horns, or a tail, you know. I bet it's going
to keep feeling good, too. Besides, we've known Mera for years. She
and Waylon certainly don't have the power to create additional
pussies, tits, and cocks; the cause lies elsewhere."

I know when I'm not about to win an argument. "OK, I don't mind a
practical joke if its harmless and well done. Lisa, you now have the
use of thirty inches of cock instead of fifteen. Fine. Once again, I
don't even know how to piss."

"I imagine you have one pee place in the middle. That's how I am,"
Mera commented.

"I can use either one, or both," contributed Waylon.

"Thank you for your enlightening observations," I said. "Trace and
Calico, how are you doing?"

"Just fine, thanks. When I saw the cats outside I was afraid that
Calico and I would lose our hands completely but that didn't happen.
Actually, I feel more limber and my balance seems improved. What
about you, Trace?"

"Yeah, I feel better balanced and more coordinated. All day I was
able to walk around fine as long as I didn't think about my legs.
It's when I pay attention to them that I tangled up. Thinking about
my hindquarters trailing behind me was confusing too. Now, it just
seems more natural."

I left the bedroom and found everyone else outside. I could see very
clearly even though all the outside lights were off; I suppose it came
with the cat eyes. Dim-light vision seemed to be in black-and-white
though, although inside the guest house I'd seen normally in color.
The others must have been similarly affected because they were trying
various night vision tests. No one else had acquired double cunts or
double cocks.

Phylen and Trace went for an evening gallop and everyone else soon
returned to their rooms. Victor wanted to show me the plans for
Buckskin West but I put him off till the morning and headed for the
bedroom. Lisa asked me to turn on the hot tub and we removed our
makeup and loose jewelry as it heated up. As Mera had predicted,
Lisa's body had a single pee place midway between her cunts; it hardly
felt any different and actually seemed more sanitary.

I spent several minutes examining Lisa's body in the mirror. All the
tattoos were still vivid and in proportion, despite the drastic
reshaping her body had undergone. Her left pussy blended into the
male dragon's balls and the right pussy seemed to be part of the
female dragon. The pussy rings that had been on her left and right
lips were now on the right lips of the right pussy and the left lips
of the left one, leaving the two inside lips bare. I decided to get
some work the next day.

Lisa walked into the bathroom while I was still at the mirror and
began to take a piss. At first the piss came out of both cocks but
then just the left and, finally, just the right. Lisa shook them both
off and wiped the tips with pieces of toilet paper. Previously, my
cock had four rings pierced into it. Now, each cock had two.

"I'm thinking of getting more pussy rings tomorrow. Will you join
me?" I asked.

"Of course. What would you think of chains connecting the left side
to the right?" Lisa proposed.

"Well, it's not something you see every day. Sure, why not?"

"Doug, have you any idea where all this is headed?" Lisa asked.

"Let me ask you a question first. A little while ago, just as you
came, what did you experience?"

"Well, I felt waves of pleasure, I felt your body shaking, and I felt
cum squirting out of your cocks," Lisa answered.

"Then?"

"I seemed to be hovering over the estate. I saw zillions of cats,
then I was back on top of Mera."

"Nothing else?"

"No. Like what?"

"I keep having strange dreams, but perhaps they're not dreams.
Perhaps they're communication or visitations of some kind."

"No, nothing like that," Lisa revealed. "What do they tell you?"

"Guide them!"

"Guide who?"

"That's a problem."

Lisa thought about this but had nothing more to say. We were both
much too tall for the king-size bed and had to sleep with our hoofs
hanging out in mid air. While drifting off I worried about shredding
the pillow with Lisa's horns, but it didn't happen.

Chapter 65. Courting Rituals Thursday, Week 7

Lisa woke me by stroking her pussies with the two outside fingers of
my left hand. She must have begun very gently, so as not to wake me,
but her pussies were sopping wet by the time I realized what was going
on. I could reach only one of my cocks but massaging it caused both
to stiffen. Lisa swung my hips over her face and began kissing her
right pussy and rubbing her left clitoris with my thumb. Likewise, I
closed her mouth around my left cock and rolled the right one against
Lisa's cheek.

By suspending my body from its fingertips and hoofs, Lisa managed to
rub my waist gently against all three of her nipples. This sent
ripples of sensation up and down her spine, nearly making me cry out.
Soon I could wait no longer and reversed Lisa's body under my arched
torso. I slipped a condom over each cock and Lisa lowered them toward
her waiting pussies, which I held open with her hands. The sensation
of pussy being filled with cock was familiar to me but the first
duplicate penetration was truly wild and exotic.

For a while I pumped Lisa's pussies up and down my cocks by flexing
her back. Lisa began vibrating my hips from left to right,
intensifying the sensation. I squeezed Lisa's pussy walls tight,
pressing my cocks firmly against her G-spots. Lisa lowered my head to
kiss her lips with mine and I instantly experienced double orgasm.
Both pussies were sopping wet but we kept rocking and I had three more
double orgasms and three singles. Lisa relaxed and pulled my cocks
out slowly.

"It's strange not getting exhausted by sex, don't you think" she
asked.

"Oh, I still detected plenty of heavy breathing on your part," I
responded.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Let's get cleaned up and run," Lisa
proposed.

I used the bidet to rinse Lisa's pussies as she wiped my cocks with a
damp cloth. It was overcast and raining outside but we didn't feel
cold running through the mist and puddles. Our hoofs gave us perfect
traction and we finished 22 miles in just under 43 minutes. Phylen
and Trace were out for a gallop, too. We couldn't keep up with them
but it did give me an opportunity to look them over.

Both Phylen and Trace were back to their original heights, with the
extra ribs distributed between their upper and lower torsos. Standing
still and viewed from the front, they almost looked unchanged from
their original selves; all the obvious changes were from the hips
down. In that area, they had scrawny, heavy boned legs, a very wide
frontal crotch with no sex organs, and, of course, hoofs. In back,
except for the tail, they looked almost like any other nude person
bending forward at the waist. Trace's cock was huge and tended to
hang in a forward position. Phylen's pussy has hard to see but
apparently pointed down.

Maybe it was because both centaurs had Mohawk haircuts before their
change, but each now had a bristly mane running from the forehead over
the scalp then down the neck, along both backs, and eventually meeting
the base of the tail. Everywhere else they were hairless, with black
and white human skin streaked in a zebra pattern. Phylen's skin
pattern gave her a bandit's mask around her eyes. Trace's pattern was
reversed.

Dan and Dee had to stop serving breakfast a little early to clean up
and still make their court date. Everyone was going through the
regular morning weights and measures drill when I talked to Dee about
her defense. She had every confidence in Robin but asked me to come
along for moral support. Feeling honored as a friend, I promised to
drive both of them downtown and do whatever else was possible.

By then, no increase in size could have amazed me. Saul measured
Lisa's body at six feet nine inches tall, 237 pounds, and 54-30-44.
My own body had grown to seven foot two and 289. At the rate we were
growing, we would outsize even Mbuno within a few days, even though he
too was growing. Calico and Tiger had lost a quarter of their
original body mass but Phylen and Trace were six times their original
weight!

Saul had arranged for Phylen, Trace, Tiger, and Calico to be X-rayed
at a local veterinarian. I realized this wasn't demeaning at all;
only a vet would have the proper equipment. Hospitals everywhere
would need new medical devices, I realized, making a mental note that
medical equipment would be a growth industry. Saul had rented a step
van to spare Phylen and Trace the ignominy of riding in a trailer.

It hurt to remember that less than two months before I certainly would
have worn a wool suit, white shirt, tie, and wing tips to court. In
fact, I wore something like fifty earrings, eight nose rings, eleven
cheek studs, nine lip rings, seven tongue rings, a lip chain, five
cheek chains, seventeen necklaces, twelve rings, ten bracelets, eight
nipple rings, four navel rings, four pussy rings, three large tattoo
pieces, fifteen smaller ones, green, purple, and silver makeup, a wrap-
around miniskirt with a tail flap, and a XXX-Tall men's T-shirt. I
was in a female body with 54 inch tits and no hair. Shit happens.

Lisa's outfit made mine look plain but Dan and Dee were nearly blank.
They wore no makeup, very little jewelry, sweaters, and jeans, and
headbands. Like Lisa and me, they were hoping that shoes weren't
required. I have no idea what we could have worn: horseshoes,
perhaps?

To my surprise, Mera wasn't coming. She said that her fame and
notoriety tended to create a negative overreaction, but I suspected
she just didn't want to get dressed. The Tweedles somehow bent
themselves into my back seat. Lisa and I squeezed into the front and
we headed into the city. I paid a fortune at a parking garage but at
least Dan and Dee didn't have to walk far in their jeans.

Robin was waiting outside the courtroom wearing normal makeup and of
course the pierced rings in his ears, nose, lips, and tongue. He wore
an ingenious pair of blue-pinstripe stretch-wool bib shorts, cuffed at
the bottom and cut like a vest on top. Under the bib he wore a white,
sleeveless, backless, low cut dress shirt; there's no other way to
describe it. On his feet were a pair of cordovan wing-tip leather
sandals.

"Hi, Dan, Dee. Wow, you really dressed, didn't you? Hopefully, this
will be the last time for all of us. Isn't that right, Doug?" Robin
greeted us.

"Winning this case would solve many problems for many people," Lisa
remarked.

"That's why we need to do it," Robin stated. "Look at that bailiff.
Forcing her to wear clothes ought to be the crime."

The bailiff entering our courtroom was a centaur wearing a service
hat, two heavily modified pairs of uniform pants, a uniform shirt, her
badge, and a blanket with the letters SFPD stenciled onto it. Even
though very little skin was visible, she seemed to have large spots of
black and white pigment. The bailiff looked distinctly uncomfortable
as she entered the courtroom and locked the doors behind her. Ten
minutes later she emerged and made her announcement.

"Hear ye, hear ye, the court of the Honorable Patsy Rapherie is now in
session. All having business before the court; please enter and
remain standing."

To my surprise, the judge was already seated at the bench. The
waiting crowd moved from the hallway to the gallery, then, when
everyone had entered, the bailiff closed the door, the judge banged
her gavel, and everyone was seated.

The first two cases were dispatched quickly. In the first, a tattoo
artist was accused of inking the California Golden Bear onto a
customer's butt. The customer claimed to have wanted the image of a
suntanned girl at a nude beach. Judge Rapherie ordered the artist to
ink the suntanned girl onto any area of the customer's body agreeable
to the customer and to general community standards, with no additional
charge to the customer. The customer agreed to cease making
derogatory statements about the tattoo parlor.

The second case involved a lingerie boutique that had canceled an
order of crotchless panties the day before they were delivered. The
supplier claimed there was no market for the refused goods and
demanded payment. Judge Rapherie found there was no physical
substance to the most important feature of crotchless panties and
reprimanded the supplier for marketing useless merchandise.

"The court will now hear the case of Tweedle, Dan and Dee, versus
University of California at Berkeley," announced the clerk. He was
bald and dressed in a friar's robe and sandals.

"Are all here present and ready?" asked Judge Rapherie.

"I'm Robin Banks, attorney for the defendants. We are present and
ready, your honor," Robin replied.

"Lee Beigal, attorney for the University, your honor. We will
proceed," announced a scholarly gentleman from the other table. He
wore a tweed suit and brown shoes, marking him as a professor.
Naturally, he had a mustache and a bad haircut.

"State the charges," recited Judge Rapherie. Obviously, she'd been
through this a thousand times.

"The defendants are charged with unlawful exposure of a person. To
wit, defendants allegedly exposed their genitals, buttocks, and female
breasts at Berkeley Square last Monday at approximately 2:00 P.M.
Campus police requested the defendants to dress and were twice
rebuked," stated the clerk.

"How do you plead?" asked the judge, feigning interest.

"Not guilty, your honor," Robin asserted.

"Do you waive your right to a jury trial?" the judge asked.

"Yes, your honor," replied Robin.

"State the evidence," Judge Rapherie ordered the prosecutor.

Lee Beigal replied, "Your honor, we have numerous photographs of the
defendants standing without clothes in front of a microphone at
Berkeley Square. Witnesses will testify as to the date, time, and
accuracy of these photographs."

"Your honor, we will stipulate that the defendants appeared in public
without clothing," Robin stated.

"What, then, is your defense?" the judge asked Robin.

"Your honor, we contend that public nudity has become an accepted
community standard."

"Very well. Let me see your photographs, Mr. Beigal. Yes, I see the
photographer did a very thorough job. Highly detailed, indeed. Mr.
Banks, do I understand you are not contesting this evidence?"

"That is correct, your honor. May we begin our defense? Thank you.
Your honor, I hereby submit photographs taken Tuesday and Wednesday at
over fifty different locations in the Bay Area. You will note that
everyone in these photographs appears nude and in public. The sites
are stores, restaurants, hotels, offices, construction sites, beaches,
parks, and freeways. A public opinion poll taken by random sample
yesterday shows that fifteen percent of all Bay Area residents prefer
being nude to being clothed, regardless of the situation. Another
thirteen percent prefer clothing only in special circumstances, ten
percent occasionally are nude, and seventeen percent are undecided."

"Your honor, what's the point? The law is specific on this issue,"
objected Beigal.

"Your honor, over half of all local residents are unopposed to
personally appearing nude in public. Furthermore, only eight percent
of those surveyed believed that forcing people to wear clothes was a
good use of police and judicial resources. I have expert witnesses
ready to testify on each of these facts. Your honor, Dan and Dee
Tweedle, who appeared in public without clothes, did not violate
community standards and are not guilty of any crime."

"Counsels, approach the bench," ordered Judge Rapherie.

What followed was nearly inaudible. "... quite common ... yes but ...
photographs ... standards ... we will stipulate ... a precedent ... I
don't think ... Campus Police ... he's here ... judge, you can't ...
not a precedent ... the council would ... quite specific ... not
archaic ... floodgates ... most strenuously ... appeals court ... oh."

Lee Beigal and Robin returned to their tables while the judge made
notes. "What's happening?" I whispered to Robin from behind the rail.
The judge rustled some papers and Robin held up one finger. It had
three rings on it.

"Will the defendants please rise? Dan and Dee Tweedle, this court
finds you not guilty of public indecency or any other statute. Do you
have any statement to make?"

"Your honor, we would like to move that the University of California
Berkeley Campus Police be enjoined to discontinue all future arrest
and harassment of nude persons," Robin replied.

"It will be so ordered. To make this a test case and thereby set a
precedent, I will further issue similar cease and desist orders to all
other police departments in my jurisdiction. This will no doubt be
appealed, but as of this moment the Bay Area is clothing optional.
Case closed. There will be a ten minute recess. You are free to go.
Court is recessed. Bailiff, how long are you going to wear that
ridiculous blanket?"

Judge Rapherie banged her gavel and stood up. It was quite apparent
why she'd taken her seat before opening the courtroom; her robes ended
at the waist and she wore nothing underneath! Her shaved pussy had
several rings embedded in it, as did her nipples, which were fully
revealed as she tossed aside her robe and wig. The scales of justice
were tattooed across her chest, with one balance pan resting on each
nipple.

The bailiff had already chucked her blanket, trousers, and uniform
shirt toward the bench and was stretching her arms and shoulders.
Robin was nude about three seconds after the judge was, and the
Tweedles weren't far behind. Lisa and I tossed our clothes onto the
pile and headed into the corridor with Robin and his clients.
Somehow, the newspapers and television stations had been alerted;
photographers and cameramen were everywhere. Waylon and Mera stepped
out of the elevator and stood near Robin, Dan, and Dee while they all
took turns answering questions. Nobody paid attention to Lee Beigal
except Mera, who shook his hand, hugged him, and gave him a new watch.
The poor guy didn't last five minutes; his tweed suit capped the top
of the clothing pile.

After the interviews Mera and Waylon shook hands with all the
reporters and technicians, then strolled around the building touching
doorknobs, railings, elevator buttons, drinking fountains, and
anything else that seemed promising. I found out later they spent
their time during the trial leaning against the television trucks and
handling whatever microphones and equipment they could.

Dan and Dee were in a glow and had no immediate reason to leave. They
decided to wait a few hours for Mera and Waylon, who would then drive
them to their afternoon classes. Despite being with Mera, they had no
desire to test their new freedom until the campus and local police had
received news of the court order. Lisa and I congratulated Robin and
the Tweedles again and then left for our daily remodeling inspection.

Qubie and Walt were both on-site. It was obvious that Walt was
spending his lunch break and evenings getting work done; he'd
completed intricate patterns on his back, thighs, and biceps already
and had more figures outlined on his chest. Qubie was having back
pains and looked thinner, as though he'd lost weight in his face and
stomach. I knew he was becoming a cat and so did he. We didn't
discuss it. Qubie gave me a reasonable estimate on getting the
freight elevator working: I told him to go ahead and he just nodded.

I had three more rings put in each of Lisa's pussies, offsetting them
from the existing ones. Lisa matched me by having three new rings put
in each of my cocks. We also got our middle nipples pierced to match
the left and right. Pokey showed us some clip-on chains that hung
between our left and right genitals but we decided to wait a day for
the piercings to be healed.

At three thirty we left Essence Alley and headed for InstaFlo. As
Robin's survey had predicted, about one sixth of the people we passed
on the way were nude and many others wore less than minimal coverage.
At InstaFlo we discovered that Dotty Lyon had taken the plunge, so to
speak, and chucked her business suit along the way. In addition, she
talked Ken Bahn into testing one of the depilatators over her entire
body. She was exuberant as she helped Ken load the depilatators into
my car and nearly forgot to give me the invoice. I promised to get it
paid within twenty-four hours.

Because we were in the area and didn't need to worry about being
properly dressed, we decided to have dinner at Cho Pynn Bou Qit for
old time's sake. It was still run by Boris and Natasha, and they
still had the Finest French Food In San Carlos. As before, Lisa had
Coq au Vin and I had Bouillabaisse. Our first visit seemed like
ancient history.

It was seven thirty when we got back to the estate. Wanda was
watching for us at the gate and directed us urgently toward the motor
home pad. Ada approached us as soon as we arrived.

"Doug, I'm Ada. Alan and Dr. Bohnes are inside with Hal and Carla. I
don't know what's going on, but Alan wants you to come in and Lisa to
stay out. Please just go ahead," she urged.

The door to Hal's motor home was locked but I banged until Saul let me
in. "Doug, this is unbelievable. Something extreme is happening to
Hal and Carla; it's much more extensive than I understood from
speaking with them. It's a miracle they got here at all. They seem
physically healthy for now. They're very confused and depressed; be
cautious what you say. Let's go in the back section and then you can
see them."

With that, Saul led the way into the back section. Carla was asleep
under a blanket but Hal was standing in the center of the room letting
Damihnd examine him. Hal's legs were the thinnest I'd ever seen, and
they were attached to his waist rather than his hips. His knees bent
backwards, his feet were shrunken, and his toes were unbelievably
lengthened. He had four toes on the front of each foot and one
extending backwards from each heel. Massive talons extended from the
end of each toe. Hal's arms weren't as thin as his legs but they had
an extra joint, as if a second forearm had been grafted onto the end
of the normal one. The positioning of his legs forced him to stand
with his torso at an angle to the floor, and his arms were folded from
his shoulder to his waist, back to his shoulder and back to his waist.

"How do you feel, Hal?" I asked.

"Bent, folded, spindled, and mutilated," he answered. "Is that you,
Doug? Nobody looks like themselves but so far I always guess right.
What's causing this and how can it be reversed?"

"Yeah, it's me. I don't know what's causing this, but it started in
that cavern in New Mexico. If some person or intelligence is
following a plan, it's not apparent to me. This is more like a force
of nature; more like a storm, or magnetism, or evolution. I can't
imagine that all of this is going to keep progressing forever. I
don't think it will just freeze at some point, either. Some kind of
turning point or conclusion must be coming, though I don't know what
it is or when it will occur."

"Saturday," said Damihnd.

"What?" I asked, startled.

"Oh, I have no idea what, but I'm pretty sure about when. At 9:07
A.M. local time Saturday the sun, moon, Mars, Venus, and Earth all
line up as indicated on one of the key pictographs. All the
narratives now being played out conclude at that plaque."

"Well, what narratives continue after that plaque?" I asked.

"None. That plaque is at the apex of the pyramid."

I resumed my explanation to Hal. "To the best of my knowledge, there
is no way these changes can be reversed. Dr. Damihnd has some success
in altering the progression but none in effecting reversals. You can
see how greatly I've been changed. Saul isn't exactly himself these
days, and Dr. Damihnd is a victim of his own experiment. Have you met
the others?"

Hal looked squarely at me for the first time. "Doug, we've been
hiding inside this motor home for almost a week. We bought gas at
full-service stations, passing the credit card to the attendant
through a slit in the blinds. We pull into secluded areas at night to
relieve ourselves. When I needed to get hand controls installed for
the accelerator and brake, I called ahead to place the work order,
then parked out front in the middle of the night. We locked ourselves
in back while the work was being done, then honked the horn and paid
through the crack in the blinds. No, Doug, we haven't been out and
around. Look at me! I can't let anyone see us!"

Apparently, Saul and Damihnd had been through this before; they gave
me exasperated expressions and then turned aside. I looked back at
Hal and tried another approach.

"Hal, it seems to me that you and Carla are changing into birds of
some kind. There are people here who have become catlike and
horselike. The transition period was difficult for them but now it's
over and they're happy. People have become fishlike, too. That's
right: mermaids and mermen. I'm one of a group that's turning into
gargoyles; look at me! Alan Damihnd is one type of hermaphrodite;
four more people are another type. I think you should get to know us
and talk about your feelings, Hal. You can't spend the rest of your
life in this motor home."

"Horse people, you say?" Hal inquired.

"Centaurs, Hal. They have four legs, a human torso, and a tail. It
was tough and painful for them during the transition, but now they
love galloping in the moonlight."

"Well, I don't know about meeting the cat people. What if they have
some instinctive urge to pounce? Carla, are you listening?"

Carla lifted the corner of her blanket and peered out. "I thought it
was you when you drove up, Doug. I can guess who's nearby without
seeing them, lately. That's Lisa and Wanda outside now, isn't it?
There are two people who remind me of Lisa, too, though I've never met
them. Are they her parents?"

I looked outside, briefly parting the window blinds. "Yes, those
people are Victor and Katie Kahr, Lisa's parents. Would you like to
meet them?"

"Well, I already have, now. I suppose they may as well meet me, too.
Nobody outside has clothes on. Oh, neither do you. What about me?
Do I have to dress?"

"The uniform of the day is no uniform, every day," I explained. "The
owners of the estate started out with that rule and it's solved some
problems for the rest of us, as well."

"I don't have to hide under this blanket, then, do I?" Carla noted,
tossing her covers aside. She had the same sort of changes as Hal:
skinny legs attached at the waist and with backward knees, an extra
arm segment, and feet that were all thick, stretched out toes.

"There are sixteen changed people in a group about a hundred yards to
the Northeast, Doug. Do you know what that's about? Our changes
always come at this time of day," Carla said.

"Six of us started by swapping partners eight days ago, Carla. The
total changes amounted to one tattoo each and healing of some new
piercings which Lisa's parents had done. Every night since then, one
more couple has joined us. The first ten of us are turning into
gargoyles, for lack of a better term. Four people have become
hermaphrodites, two are cats, two are centaurs, two can change their
sex at will, and I guess the last two are a witch and a warlock. I
don't think the group sex is causing the changes, though, because some
of the people started changing before they met us. Also, Lisa and I
sat out one night and woke up changed the next morning."

Carla responded, "Oh, Doug, a bullet can be the cause of death but a
finger pulls the trigger. Still, none of you were aware; I understand
that now. This will be a difficult evening, but the time has come.
One of the hermaphrodites is approaching us now. Hal and I will
remain here and the rest of you must leave. Still, can you remain
close by? There are three other dwellings adjacent."

Saul led Damihnd and me out of the trailer. Priscilla, who was just
approaching Lisa and her parents, asked no one in particular, "Are you
folks ready or what?"

I answered her "Hi, Priscilla. Hal and Carla need our help tonight.
They have asked that we stay close to them for a while, even though
they need to be alone. Could you ask the others to head over this
way?"

"Well, OK. Sid is doing it now." Sure enough, the rest of our group
started walking toward us.

"Priscilla, what just happened there? How did Sid know?" Lisa asked.

"Oh, yeah, that's something, isn't it? It only works among the four
of us, though. We can send each other messages," Priscilla explained.

"Doug, are you sure this is necessary? I was starting to like the
guest house," asked Sue, who already understood the situation.

Damihnd and Ada were standing together, both appearing female at the
moment. Lisa approached the closer of the two and asked, "Are you Dr.
Damihnd."

"I believe there may be some amusement in concealing my identity and
causing you to speculate," came the answer. Lisa took him by the hand
and dragged him toward Pearson's trailer. Ada protruded her male
equipment, began stroking Calico behind the neck, and soon disappeared
with her inside Pearson's unit. Mera and Waylon disappeared into the
third motor home with Dan and Dee. Given the lack of space, Phylen
and Trace decided to stay outside; Mbuno decided to try taking Trace's
huge cock and Hank took the challenge of satisfying Phylen. Saul,
Victor, Katie, and Wanda headed together for Strand's motor home.
Priscilla and Sue followed them. Sid and Tiger decided to stay
outside with the centaurs.

"Howdy, stranger," Cynthia greeted me. Her choice of words sounded
strange in a Jamaican accent.

"Hi, Cynthia. We really haven't spent much time together, have we?
Just once! Shall we go inside?"

"I doubt there is any room for us. Let's stay right here. How do you
like my work?" Cynthia put her hands behind Lisa's back and drew me
toward her. Decorative abrasions covered her entire body by then, and
I could feel the hard welts pressing like beads against Lisa's
breasts, stomach, and thighs. I ran Lisa's fingers softly over
Cynthia's back, following the rows of bumpy welts from her shoulders
to her butt. We remained standing in the moonlight and kissed
forcibly, intertwining sharp teeth and long tongues. Cynthia was
startled by the touch of Lisa's tongue rings at first, then became all
the more passionate.

"Shall we lie down?" I asked. Cynthia pressed my back against Hal's
motor home then pulled briefly away to jump into a handstand.

"I don't like it on the ground. I've seen how strong you are; now
lift me," she begged, splitting her legs and laying her pussy on
Lisa's stomach. I stooped to grab the back of Cynthia's shoulders
with Lisa's hands and then stood up and lifted her pussy to Lisa's
mouth. I leaned against the motor home with Lisa's legs wide apart,
giving Cynthia full access to Lisa's heavily flowing pussies. Cynthia
alternately lapped Lisa's clitties with her long tongue as I chewed
carefully on her mons.

I'd never been outside before when the animals came; in any event,
they appeared all at once. There must have been thousands swarming in
the air, flapping their leathery wings and screeching. I pushed
Lisa's tongue into Cynthia's pussy, vibrating it madly as I continued
chewing her pussy lips and clitoris. As I sensed the oncoming rush,
the bats fell to the ground and entwined each other in pairs.
Cynthia's body and mine flexed as one and I felt the incredible rush
cumming.

Everything blacked out and suddenly I found myself in a completely
unfamiliar setting. I was approaching a settlement of centaurs
located along a river where rocky cliffs met the edge of a forest.
The centaurs had simple needs and simple three-sided dwellings, though
a futuristic structure with solar panels on top seemed to house
advanced equipment. Some nude human children were playing soccer in a
makeshift field. A pair of centaurs, one spotted and one black,
approached me; the spotted one gave greeting.

"Welcome, searcher. You have found our simple gathering. Come and
tell us the nature of your quest. Perhaps we can be of assistance."

"I'm trying to guide some others and myself; we don't understand where
our lives are headed anymore," I explained.

"Are you a mystic, then, seeking to help all creatures? Or do you
seek to guide only a few?"

"I'm not a mystic, but I want whatever's best for everyone. Only a
few people want my advice, though."

"It is generally so. If they cannot understand their destiny, then
you will be asked to make choices for them. Will you consider the
needs of yourself or of those who have come to you?"

"How can I answer without knowing the choice?" I asked.

"How indeed?" asked the black centaur, then I was back outside Hal's
trailer. Carefully I rotated Cynthia to an upright position and set
her on her hoofs.

"Are you dizzy?" I asked.

"Like, totally, for sure, man. You got a blonde wing?" Cynthia
replied.

"Cynthia, do you feel OK?" I asked, fearing her intelligence had been
cut by three quarters.

"Yes, Doug, just kidding! I'm sorry if my timing was rotten; I didn't
mean to upset you. Hmpf. I thought maybe we'd be able to fly, but
now I doubt it. What do you think?"

There was hardly any light outside but I could see Cynthia's features
clearly. Webbing had appeared on various parts of her body; between
her arms and sides, inside her elbows, behind her knees, and from her
jaw to her shoulder. She'd also gained pointed horns on her
shoulders, hips, hocks, and the caps of her elbows and knees. A quick
check showed that Lisa's body had been similarly changed. I assured
Cynthia that flight was impossible.

People were starting to emerge from the motor homes and comparing
changes with those who had remained outside. The other gargoyles were
changed exactly like Cynthia and me. The rest didn't seem changed at
all; I was beginning to suspect their narratives were complete. My
greatest concern was Hal and Carla. Saul and Damihnd appeared at
their door at the same time I did, but I told them to remain outside
unless I called them. They agreed. I knocked on the door, and heard
Carla's voice say, "Come in, Doug."

Carla was standing in the forward room stretching out her arms. A
webbed framework of bones and skin extended from her wrists to her
hips. Shaking her arms created tremendous drafts of air. Her arms
had become wings, I realized, although she still had hands at each
end. Her wingspan was at least twelve feet: too large to spread fully
inside the motor home. Faced with a wider span and a smaller room,
Hal was having even more problems in the back compartment.

"You really are among friends," I told them both. "Why don't you come
outside with me and meet them?"

Hal entered the forward room with his arms, his wings, folded against
his side. Carla made room for him by folding her arms as well. If
anything, their legs had grown thinner and their bodies had grown more
angular. They drew close together and Carla whispered into Hal's ear
occasionally, as if having a one-sided conversation.

"You can't spend the rest of your lives inside this motor home, Hal,
and neither can you, Carla. You can't get your old bodies back
either. Believe me; no one on Earth will be more helpful and
understanding than the people waiting outside right now," I urged.

Both of them were silent for a minute, then Carla spoke. "All right,
we agree to go outside and meet the others."

"Are you coming, Hal?" I asked.

"Carla knew what I was thinking. Let's go," he replied.

Damihnd and Saul were still waiting just outside the door; I nearly
whacked Damihnd in the butt when I opened it. "Please move back,
everyone," I asked, stepping outside. "Hal and Carla are ready to
come out and meet you. Their changes are extensive and birdlike;
please don't be shocked. They need our help and understanding. Hal
and Carla, are you ready?"

Carla answered my question by hopping out the door. There was no way
for her to step down the inclined steps but I didn't expect her to
spread her wing-arms and flap them. Maybe it was instinctive, maybe
it was calculated for effect, or maybe she had no alternative except
injury; I never found out. It did have an effect; everyone gasped and
then began applauding! Calico stepped forward and welcomed Carla
personally, expressing admiration at Carla's courage in facing her
changes alone.

"Oh, I had help," Carla replied. "Hal, come out. We're among
friends!"

Hal jumped out much as Carla had and received his own round of
applause. "How can we help you?" asked Trace, shuffling all four
hoofs.

"We need a moment in private to relieve ourselves, then something to
eat. We haven't eaten since Tuesday," Carla replied for both.

"No problem: everyone can wait for you by the pool and I'll get you
whatever satisfies. What would that be?" Dee queried.

"Fruits, nuts, and roughage go down just fine," Hal suggested.

"Doug, no one else has changed into a bird: not anyone, not anywhere.
I would have heard of it," said Mera as we all headed for the pool
deck.

"You're probably right," I agreed. "Among ourselves, we've seen
thousands of changed people. There are no other gargoyles and no
other birds."

"What an odd choice of words: gargoyles! Isn't that rather Satanic?"
asked Phylen. Except for the black and while zebra pattern, her face
was the same as ever. Her inhuman gait was still shocking when I
wasn't expecting it, however. It didn't seem to bother Phylen and
Trace at all.

"Well, the alternatives were devils and demons. I don't think I'm an
evil creature, though. Neither are Lisa, the Kahrs, the Bohnes, the
Tweedles, or Cynthia and Hank. How are Dan and Dee doing tonight, by
the way?"

"It seems they've joined our exclusive Double Your Pleasure club,"
said Waylon. "I seem to keep poking new holes in women."

"Yes, well, men keep going that extra distance for me. What about
your partners, Doug and Lisa?" asked Mera.

"Uh, Cynthia still has only one mouth," I replied sheepishly.

"Alan Damihnd still has one of anything he wants," Lisa reported.

"Did he penetrate you?" Mera asked.

"In the name of research and understanding, no, he didn't. He was a
she at the critical; moment, kissing me on one side and massaging the
other. I tongued him -- or her, " Lisa explained.

Dan and Dee had set up an impromptu salad bar with bowls of fruit,
nuts, lettuce, Cole slaw, and assorted crunchy munchies. Hal and
Carla didn't eat much but they did so with great relish. It was very
awkward for them to put their hands to their mouths, so they fed each
other. I could see they had practice.

"Can you fly?" Calico asked Carla after she finished eating.

"Actually, we did try when we were by ourselves. We can flap
ourselves a few feet off the ground but that seems to be it. I'm sure
our technique leaves something to be desired but we don't want to try
anything reckless, especially at night."

"How's your night vision?" I asked.

"It suddenly got much better last night. You knew that, Doug. Oh,
OK, I suppose you weren't certain. Tiger, you know something about
flying. Dan, you know about birds. Would the two of you please coach
us tomorrow?" Carla asked.

"I have a private pilot's license, Carla. How did you know?" Tiger
probed.

"Yes, I studied birds as a hobby in high school. How did you know?"
asked Dan.

"Lately I get feelings about people that are never wrong," Carla
explained

"I'm no expert on winged flight, but I'll do whatever I can to help.
I don't have any classes on Friday morning," said Dan. "Breakfast is
from about seven to eight on weekdays. After that, we have weigh-ins
and a brief checkup by Saul and Spike. They're both doctors. We
started keeping daily measurements of our changes to try and
understand them."

"OK, well, Calico and I need to visit the store sometime tomorrow but
that could be in the afternoon. In the meantime, don't be jumping off
any roofs," Tiger added.

"You go to the store in that body?" asked Hal.

"I have no other body to go in, do I?" sighed Tiger.

At that point, Cynthia made a suggestion. "Perhaps it would help
Carla and Hal if we each explained how we feel about our own changes
and how we plan to continue our lives. It might be good for
ourselves, too."

"I don't want any amateur group therapy," Sue asserted.

"No, no, we wouldn't all have to sit in a circle and spill our guts in
public. I think private conversations would be best. If someone
isn't comfortable doing that, the rest of us should be understanding.
As for me, tonight, I'm turning in. Goodnight, everyone," said
Cynthia, waving.

Within ten minutes the others had also excused themselves and gone
inside. Phylen and Trace left for their nightly gallop, able to leave
the gates for the first time since their change. Lisa and I walked
Hal and Carla back to their motor home. I held the spring-hinged door
open while Hal and Carla hopped up the stairs, then bid them
goodnight. In bed, I thought for quite a while about what the future
might hold in store for each of us. I didn't even come close to
guessing the actual outcome.

Chapter 66. Twilight Time Friday, Week 7

My sleep that night was fitful and full of bizarre dreams: strange but
enchanting as well. I dreamt of a world where people lived closely
with nature, having few needs and few possessions. Food was
plentiful, clothing was unheard of, and little protection from the
elements was ever needed. People engaged in the arts, science,
history, and literature. The more physically inclined pursued sports,
dance, and adventurous quests. Illness was unknown.

With several important things to do that day, I wanted to start out
looking my best. Lisa and I completed a marathon jog of 26 miles in
45 minutes, but we broke our regular routine by rinsing in the hot tub
rather than the pool. I hooked on three dozen pairs of earrings,
assorted necklaces and bracelets, and various cross-chains connecting
the rings in Lisa's nipples, pussies, and navels. A ring for each
finger and a woven metal headband completed my attire. As to makeup,
I coated Lisa's lips with purple gloss edged in gold and did her eyes
in bright green with matching gold highlights. Lisa's hoofs and tail
were rather blank but I hadn't figured out what to do with them yet.
I felt ready for anything.

To my surprise Hal and Carla were among the first to arrive at
breakfast. They stood together on a bench so that the angle of their
bodies positioned their heads over the table. Phylen and Trace were
standing and eating at the same table, so I pulled up a bench for Lisa
and myself.

"It seems we're going to spend the rest of our lives standing," Trace
was explaining. "It's very awkward to lie down and get up, and
sitting like Calico and Tiger isn't comfortable at all. Chairs are
out of the question."

"Right, we don't sit at all except to sleep; then, we fold our legs
and sleep on our stomachs. We always need to find someplace the right
height to rest our heads," Carla said. "How do you sleep?"

"Standing up, if you can believe it. I'm surprised our necks and
upper backs don't get tired, but they don't. Spike says our insides
are totally rearranged, though we still have human chromosomes,"
Phylen said.

"What did the X-rays show yesterday, if you don't mind answering?" I
asked.

"No, I don't mind. Our lungs and throat fill our human, upper chests.
The lower, equine chest contains the heart, liver, spleen, stomach,
and intestines. Standing, our heads are just slightly taller than
they were before the changes; I'm six foot two and Phylen is six feet
even. We're much heavier, of course. I weigh 840 pounds and Phylen
weighs..."

"Trace, don't you tell! I think 750 pounds is a good weight and I'm
sure that's where I'll be within a few weeks. Saul and Spike
recommend twelve thousand calories a day for Trace and ten thousand
for me. I can't believe how much food we have to swallow. Trace
didn't mention it, and it's not that noticeable, but our noses, jaws,
and throats got bigger. Watch this." Phylen shoved a whole apple
into her mouth, crunched once, and then swallowed it. "It still feels
weird swallowing down three feet of throat," she confided.

"What about drinking?" Lisa asked.

"I've adopted the 'consume mass quantities' approach," Phylen
confided. To illustrate, she tipped back her head and poured a quart
of milk down her open throat.

"You're both very happy, remarkably so. I sense you wouldn't change
back," Carla observed.

"No, we love being centaurs, especially now that we know there are
others like us. It also helps not to need clothes. I have no idea
what we would wear. We never seem to feel cold, even when the night
air gets chilly. We just get hungrier," Trace explained.

"We do get cold, and very easily," complained Hal. "Perhaps our
changes aren't complete."

"Dr. Damihnd feels something significant will happen Saturday," I
offered. "Perhaps the final changes will be tonight or tomorrow."

Hal and Carla finished the mixture of yogurt, raisins, and sunflower
seeds they were eating. Phylen and Trace gulped down another half
dozen of the wheat fiber biscuits that had appeared on the market
under the name "Purina Centaur Chow." Lisa and I wolfed down a few
more raw beef cutlets, then we all headed over to Hank's fitness area.
Saul and Spike were examining Tiger and Calico as Cynthia recorded the
data. Despite the large number of guests, her linen duties had
decreased and her laundry chores had, or course, dropped to zero.

"Were those cutlets OK, Doug?" Spike asked.

"Yes, why?"

"You folks shouldn't be eating unsterilized raw meat; there are
various disease organisms that can be transmitted that way. I told
Dan to start ordering irradiated meat. Don't worry; the radiation
just kills any organisms that might be present. There's no
radioactivity left in the food. I take it the taste and texture were
unchanged? Yes? Fine. Tiger, you and Calico are doing fine. I
believe you received some shoulder and hip changes last night that
will improve your speed and balance, but mostly things seemed to have
settled down. Calico, are you having any cramps or morning sickness?"

"No, nothing, doctor," Calico answered. "Have you thought about how
long the pregnancy might last?"

"Calico, are you pregnant?" Lisa asked in shock.

"That's what the doctor says," Calico replied. "We have no idea what
to do. Will there be one baby, four, eight, or what? Why would I
have eight breasts? Will the babies be fully human or catlike? If
they were catlike, would we abort them? What if they weren't like us?
How long will the pregnancy last?"

"You have four babies, all with human minds. I can't tell about their
bodies" Carla stated.

"How can you be sure?" Saul asked.

"I have an intuition that's always accurate," Carla said. "For
example, you're going to have a female. Is that your wife's body
you're in?"

"A girl, really? Wait; how did you know Wanda and I are inside each
other's bodies?"

"Your minds and bodies don't match. I can't explain the details;
there are no words," Carla stated as I stepped onto the scale.

"Lisa's body weighs 251 pounds this morning, Doug. Her height is, ah,
seven feet even," Spike announced.

"Body measurements are 56-31-46," announced Wanda, a tape measure in
Saul's hands.

"Are you feeling OK, Doug? Is there any sign of menstrual flow? How
long has it been now?" Saul probed.

"Saul, we've been over this before. Lisa had a period nine weeks ago.
Her system has been through constant changes ever since. I'm sure
there're no pregnancy. It would be crazy. Look at her body now;
would it get pregnant on the right side, the left, or both? We don't
even know how many uterus's there are!"

"Mera and Dee each have two, Doug. Mera is pregnant on both sides,
but Dee only on the left. Even Smooth and Pokey got themselves
tested; they're not pregnant. You should get on the stirrups and let
me examine you," Saul insisted.

"That won't be necessary," said Carla.

"Right, Lisa's body isn't pregnant. I'd know if it were, but it
isn't," I stated, getting off the scale.

Carla began to say something but Saul cut her off. "Lisa, it's your
body we're talking about. I recommend a pregnancy test. Do you
consent?"

"I'll respect Doug's wishes," she said, placing my feet on the scale.
My body weighed 327 pounds and was seven feet five inches tall.

"Doug, I should tell you... Oh, shoot, it's my parents," exclaimed
Carla suddenly.

"What about them?" Lisa asked.

"They're coming up the road. I bet they drove their pickup and
camping trailer. I'm afraid they'll die of shock when they see any of
us!" Carla fretted.

"Well, I still look the same as always. I'll open the gate and
explain things to them. Can you finish up, Saul?" asked Spike.

"Ah, sure! Starting new records for Hal and Carla will take a while,
though. If you have any ideas on what to measure, let me know."

"Height, weight, length, wingspan, I guess. Typical vitals: blood
pressure, pulse, temperature. Blood chemistry and X-rays, if
possible. Your guess is as good as mine."

"Getting us, Hal and Carla, an avian specialist, and large X-ray
equipment together at the same time will take some doing. Let's shoot
for early next week. Why don't you get the gate? I hear them
honking," Saul said.

"I didn't hear a thing," said Spike. "We should run hearing tests
sometime. OK, I'll go and let them in."

"They're hungry. You can discuss things over breakfast," Carla
suggested. "I can't face them just yet; I feel so weird and
misshapen. Let's get these measurements finished and then Hal and I
will wait in the motor home until my parents seem ready."

Hal weighed in at sixty pounds; Carla was only forty-nine. I assumed
their bones had become light and hollow like a bird's but never found
out for sure. Carla's wingspan was fourteen feet and Hal's was
seventeen. Saul detected a vestigial tail neither of them had
noticed: it allowed them to wiggle the top part of their butts. Even
though their blood pressure was normal, their pulse was extremely
rapid. On a hunch, Saul measured their lung capacity and found it to
be well over the previously observed maximum. There wasn't an
endurance athlete on Earth that could breathe more air than Hal and
Carla.

"Saul has nothing else to measure, Doug," Carla soon told me. "Hal
and I are going to rest. My parents have been driving most of the
night and will undoubtedly take a nap soon. Please ask Dan and Tiger
to knock on our door when that happens. See you later!"

"OK. Cynthia, would you come with me for a moment?" I asked, heading
toward the guest house. "There are two things I need you to do.
First, I have an invoice from InstaFlo for manufacture of a hundred
depilatators. The goods have been delivered and I need to pay by wire
transfer before three thirty. Second, please contact everyone we
invited to the CosmaTech franchise meeting this afternoon and confirm
attendance."

"No problem, boss-man. I'll start with you. Don't forget the
CosmaTech franchise meeting today at one o'clock, Cashew Room, The
Open Palms Hotel."

"The Open Palms? Is that where you found space?"

"I happen to know the owner personally. She made room for us. I'm
surprised you didn't think of asking Bonnie yourself."

"Bonnie? Does Bonnie Banks own the Open Palms?" I asked, my mind
racing.

"Of course! Bonnie owns Essence Alley, The Open Palms, Cho Pynn Bou
Qit, her apartment complex in La Cloma, and two hotels in Santa Fe:
Gateway Lodge and Encanto Retreat. I thought you knew all that."

So! Bonnie wasn't employed as a barmaid at The Open Palms; she owned
the hotel and stood behind the bar watching life go by for her own
amusement! More than likely, Lisa and I had been spotted at Gateway
Lodge in Santa Fe, then I was steered toward The Open Palms
intentionally! The meeting involving her, us, and Robin wasn't
accidental; it had been staged to lead us toward the dinner party at
Bonnie's apartment!

"Cynthia, I need to speak with Bonnie. Where can I find her?"

"I'm sure you can telephone her at home. She doesn't usually leave
this early. Do you have her number? It's not in the book," Cynthia
replied.

Cynthia wrote down Bonnie's number for me and I gave her the InstaFlo
invoice. Bonnie's phone cycled through five rings then forwarded to
another number. Three rings later, Bonnie's voice answered. There
was heavy interference.

"Good morning! This is Bonnie. You caught me on the freeway with the
top down. I won't be able to hear a thing you say until I pull over
and raise the top. Wait just a minute, please." I waited more like
two minutes, hearing traffic noises, engine noises, and finally
convertible top noises. "Hello, are you still there? I hope I didn't
go through this for nothing."

"Bonnie, this is Doug Trents. Listen, I want to discuss a few things
with you. Can we meet somewhere this morning?"

"I was just headed to The Open Palms, Doug. Can you meet me there?"

I preferred neutral ground. "Can you think of somewhere closer to the
estate, Bonnie? I'm on a tight schedule but this is important."

"OK, I'll meet you halfway. There's a coffee shop called The Munching
Basket on the San Mateo side of the bridge. Can you meet me there in
thirty minutes?"

At first I thought half an hour wasn't long enough, then I remembered
I was fully prepared to go out. "I'm on my way," I assured Bonnie.

Rush hour traffic had eased and I reached The Munching Basket with
five minutes to spare. The wooden building could have been a
landmark; it was a traditional diner, wider than it was deep, with a
nice lawn, big trees, and picture windows spotted along the front
wall. The hostess offered me a booth much too small for Lisa's legs
and I had to ask for a table instead. She nonchalantly placed a towel
on the chair seat and motioned for me to sit. I ordered a large
coffee, liver nuggets, and milk.

Bonnie was right on time. Of course, the tattoos of Zeus, Thor, and
Hercules still graced her shoulders and back. She was heavily and
expensively jeweled, including a circular wreath embedded around her
bald scalp. Like Mera, she had three tits, two pussies, and two belly
buttons, all heavily pierced. I waved.

"Oh, hi, Doug! I nearly didn't recognize you. Muscles on muscles,
eh? I hope this fits in with your schedule," she greeted me.

"No problem, Bonnie, thanks for meeting me on short notice. Uh, let
me call the waitress, then you can sit down. Miss!"

The waitress was a blank named Mabel. She was dressed in a typical
pink uniform with pantyhose and underwear underneath. An elaborately
curled hairdo extended to her shoulder blades. Mabel spread a towel
for Bonnie to sit on and then brought a napkin and place setting.
Bonnie ordered coffee and English muffins, then handed back the spoon
saying it was spotted. Mabel promised to bring another one.

"What's up?" Bonnie asked.

"I found out that you don't work at The Open Palms. You steered me
there from Gateway Lodge in Santa Fe, then arranged the meeting with
Robin and us in the bar."

Bonnie stared at me for a full minute, then spoke. "Doug, what makes
you think owners don't work? Running a business is hard work; you
should know that."

"Yes, I know that. I also know Lisa and I have been manipulated. You
diverted me from another hotel to The Open Palms, and you steered us
toward that bizarre dinner party in your apartment. Why?"

"I'm sorry you didn't enjoy the dinner party, Doug. You could have
left at any time, though."

"That isn't the question, Bonnie. Why did you interfere in our
lives?"

"Pokey said it was important. Cloud had already realized you are the
focus. My role was to be a channel."

I decided to act as if I already knew everything Bonnie was telling
me. That meant I couldn't ask her directly for more details. "Did
you want to be a channel? Did you ask for it?"

"I asked to become a woman. The rest of this has been a surprise.
Believe me; I never asked for these extra body parts. I agreed to
help people expand their horizons, but that didn't turn out as I
expected, either. Check out Mabel."

Sure enough, Mabel had thrown all her clothes away and was using a
packing scissors to give herself a close haircut. She'd already
trimmed her pussy hair as close as the scissors would allow.

"How does that make you feel, Bonnie?" I asked.

Bonnie shrugged. "I didn't ask for this role, Doug, and I know you
didn't ask for yours. Wherever I go, people become inspirited. They
didn't ask for it, but neither did I. Should I hide in a hole?
They're not unhappy: you know, the masses."

"What are your plans after tomorrow?" I asked, again pretending to
know more than I did.

"Well, I'm hoping to transcend, of course. Otherwise, I'll wait for
the next cycle. What else is there?"

"Millions of people have been inspirited now. They won't all
transcend, of course," I observed, wondering what I was talking about.

"Yes, that's what Cloud thinks also. You must be the most powerful
focus in almost sixty cycles. What's it like, Doug? Knowing, I
mean."

"The more I know, the more I realize what I don't know, Bonnie. It's
a great responsibility and a confusing one, too. Oh no, look, I think
Mabel is getting fired."

A short snippy woman in a polyester pants suit was speaking rapidly at
Mabel and counting off complaints on her fingertips. Mabel still had
the scissors on one hand and a hank of hair in the other.

"I've seen this happen before. Shall I help her?" Bonnie asked.

I nodded and Bonnie walked over to where Mabel was being fired. She
picked up a dirty fork as she passed the busboy's tray then handed it
to the snippy woman. "Are you the manager? Zelda? This fork is
filthy!" I heard her say to the short snippy woman, then a further
conversation ensued. The manager was so aghast at Bonnie's middle tit
that I don't believe she ever noticed the double pussies. After a few
minutes, the manager began picking at her clothes and Bonnie returned
to our table.

"It only grows, doesn't it?" I asked.

Bonnie sighed. "It was only a matter of time. I touched the front
door handle, the silverware I was given, the table, the chair, and the
tacks in the floor. Before I leave I'll touch the ladies' room door
handle, a stall, the flusher, the water faucets, and I'll leave change
as a tip. Think about the guests at The Open Palms; they all get
inspirited. I'm not doing it, though. It just follows me around.

"I'm not doing it; it just follows me around. Bonnie, I know that
feeling very well. Will I see you at the transcendence, then?"

"Uh, I guess you're not supposed to reveal the site of the apex. Is
that right?"

"I cannot reveal site of the apex," I said truthfully. "However,
everyone involved has been drawn to the estate. Sunlight powers the
pyramid chambers. Shall we meet for breakfast tomorrow?"

"OK, if you insist. Expect Robin to join us. I'll get the tab and
make sure Mabel and Zelda have everything they need."

"What would they need?" I wondered aloud.

"I keep stuff in my car for people. Some of it, like hair clippers
and piercing equipment, I sell at cost so people don't mutilate
themselves by using the wrong equipment. Other stuff, like cardboard
'Closed for Haircut' signs, I give away."

"That's very thoughtful and generous," I noted.

"Yes, well, I also give them Essence Alley advertising flyers and
alert the Roving Essence to make a stop. Haven't you seen them? We
refitted some snack trucks to sell jewelry, makeup, haircuts, and
tattoos. We're environmentally conscious, too; we accept old clothes
for recycling."

"Don't the tattoos take a long time?" I wondered.

"Yes, but the customers only place orders with the driver. The driver
calls in the order by radio and we dispatch an artist within two
hours. We can't hire artists fast enough, though. CosmaTech should
develop a robotic tattoo process for the mass market."

"It's on my list of research ideas, Bonnie. I'll see you at
breakfast, it not before."

Bonnie headed toward Mabel and Zelda as I left The Munching Basket.
It was almost eleven o'clock when I reached Essence Alley for my daily
construction review. A fellow named Otis Liphte from Classic Elevator
Works was looking over the freight elevator and making notes. As it
was, two of the construction workers had become centaurs and another
was obviously in the middle of the same change. I didn't recognize
Qubie at first, given that he'd become catlike.

"You were right to have that elevator looked at," said Qubie. "The
four-legged guys are strong as hell but they have an awful time with
stairs. Ladders are impossible. We've started using centaurs for
lifting and putting up walls, but we cats are better for ceilings and
floors. The fishy types aren't much good on dry land but they've all
been heading out to sea anyway, I hear."

"I don't remember some of these walls on the blueprints," I remarked.

"Here, let me show you," said Qubie. "See, we replanned the foyer so
it runs from the stairway to the elevator. We also added a hallway so
people can take the elevator to the health club. I have no idea what
kind of aerobics a centaur or cat would do, but I bet Lisa can figure
something out."

Actually, the new layout made very good use of space and didn't reduce
the amount of office space or health club footage at all. I
complimented Qubie and asked if Walt was around.

"He's downstairs, waiting for the elevator to get repaired. Hey Otis,
how's it look?" Qubie shouted.

Otis Liphte was a tall wiry blank with a conservative haircut and a
mustache. He removed a cotton coverall as he approached us, revealing
a white shirt, tie, dress pants, and safety shoes. A clipboard and
several pens in a pocket protector completed his appearance.

"She's a beauty," proclaimed Otis. "A real classic. You could
collect daily rentals from movie companies if you preserve it."

"How much to get it running, and how much to preserve it?" I asked.

"Mostly, it just needs disassembly, cleaning, lubrication, and test.
The motors all work, but I'd recommend rebuilding them with new
bearings and modern controls. To just repair the elevator so it
passes inspection, we throw away anything that doesn't work, put in
new equipment, and paint everything a bland color. That much will
cost you about twenty thousand. To preserve, we send out old parts to
be repaired and refinished and custom-make any new fixtures to match.
Preservation would cost you another seven or eight thousand."

"Go for the preservation," I ordered. "I'm sure I'd spend seven or
eight thousand on wall finishings and flooring, anyway. Does it work
now?"

"Actually, it does. It hasn't passed city inspection so I can't
recommend it for regular use. I could bring up your man Walt
Bohrdweihst, though."

"Do it!" I urged. Moments later, Walt emerged from the elevator
landing. Calico's description of a merman, a cross between a dolphin
and a crocodile, was uncannily accurate. Most of Walt's body was a
dull gray, ending in a wide flat tail exactly like a dolphin's. He
had a dorsal fin on his back, and four short legs like a giant lizard.
Each leg ended in a clawed, handlike foot, but the front edge was
pointed and the back edge trailed fins. Walt's neck was attached to
the back of his head, not the bottom, and it curved gracefully into
his sloped shoulders. His face was rather pointed, with a protruding
line running from his forehead to his chin. I noticed a blow hole
between his neck and dorsal fin.

"Pardon me if I don't stand up, Doug," Walt began. "As you can see,
I've taken up swimming. How do you like the revised floor plan?"

"It's great, Walt. What's it like?"

"Haven't you looked at it? How do you know it's great?" Walt replied
with some exasperation.

"I've seen the floor plan, I know what the floor plan is like, and I
like it. I was asking about your personal changes."

"Oh, OK. Doug, you can't believe the freedom of the ocean. It's like
flying, only more spectacular because the scenery is so staggering.
I've swum with whales, with dolphins, even sharks. We're too big for
most of them, you know, they don't bother us. If they do, one flap of
the tail scares them off."

"You seem much better adapted for sea than land," I remarked.

"Well, a creature matching the old image of human-to-the-waist and
goldfish bottom probably couldn't swim. There's tremendous drag from
the water; streamlining is the only answer. On land I'm slow as
molasses, though, and I'm sure not accustomed to looking people in the
knee."

"Are you going to stay on, then?" I asked.

"Ginny and I haven't decided what to do. That's my wife, Ginny. We
can't imagine spending the rest of our lives crawling around the
ground like this. If there's no way back to our old bodies, we'll
probably take up some kind of aquatic lifestyle. We could swim away
today and live off the sea for years. Lots of merfolk are doing it;
the beaches are full of groups being formed. There's an incredible
freedom to this, Doug. By living in the sea, we don't need groceries,
shelter, clothing, possessions of any kind, really. So far, no one
seems to need medical attention. For now, though, I want to finish
your project and a few others I've made commitments on. A promise is
a promise."

"Do you and Ginny have any children?" I asked.

"No, we keep putting it off. If we did, that would surely affect our
decision. We know several couples with children, and the kids don't
go through any changes at all. One family had a girl of nineteen who
became a centaur even though her parents became merfolk. Their boy of
fifteen is still unchanged, though. They could go to sea and leave
the boy with land-dwelling relatives, but they're not prepared to do
that yet. Meanwhile, the price of beach front property has
skyrocketed yet again. Backyard swimming pools are no substitute:
it's like living in a phone booth."

At that moment I really didn't know what the world was coming to.
Walt was crouched on all fours talking about returning to the sea
while Qubie sat with his hands and butt on the floor, flexing his tail
and listening quietly. I had trouble hearing from Lisa's seven foot
height and had seated her butt on the floor and crossed her legs,
stretching open her pussies for all to see. The topic being discussed
was "Lifestyles of Mythical Creatures".

"Qubie, Walt, you both meet more people in a day than I do. Are
couples always changed in the same way, and are children never
affected?" I asked.

"Most people with steady partners usually seem to be changed the same
way," Walt replied. "There doesn't seem to be any pattern among
singles. I do know of one couple where the guy became catlike but his
wife went the tripod route. They weren't getting along, though."

"What's the tripod route?" I interrupted.

"Oh, it's new. You don't see many of them. She has three legs, four
arms, five breasts, and two tails. It reminds you of those Far
Eastern temple statues. Anyway, I don't know of any high school aged
kids or younger being changed. The college campuses and trade schools
are full of them, though."

"My daughter was in her ninth month when she and her husband changed
into centaurs," Qubie mentioned. "The baby is completely normal, with
a perfectly human pair of legs and feet. An obstetrician and a vet
were both present for the delivery, but both of them could have stayed
home. It was a very easy birth."

"Well, I've got to run," I interjected. "Just one more thing: as you
can see, Lisa's body is seven feet tall now. Mine is seven foot five.
I'm sure we need eight foot doors and nine foot ceilings everywhere."

"It's taken care of," Qubie announced proudly. "These old ceilings
are plenty high and extra-tall doorways are on order. My daughter
stood nine feet tall the day before she grew her front legs. Have a
good day, Doug. Good luck, Walt."

I shook hands awkwardly with Walt, who then returned to the elevator
for his exit. Qubie scampered down the steps in front of me then sat
and waved as I headed back to my car. I noticed Walt climbing a board
ramp into the back of his step van; the seats had been removed so the
driver, a centaur, could stand behind the steering wheel.

Cynthia, Hank, and Lisa were already in the Cashew Room when I arrived
at The Open Palms. The room was quite large and the table had been
arranged in the shape of a U. A podium had been set at the front.
Cynthia brought copies of the CosmaTech business and marketing plans
and was distributing them to each place setting. Hank was bringing in
the finished depilatators and several boxes of topical anesthetic and
insulating spray. Lisa was speaking with the hotel events coordinator
trying to get chairs with open backs brought in.

Priscilla and Sid were the first to arrive. Priscilla did the
talking. "Hi Doug, meet Betty and Landry Tiquette. Betty is my
cousin from San Diego."

The Tiquettes had undergone tripod changes like the woman Walt had
mentioned. His description, though accurate, didn't prepare me for
the overall effect of their appearance. Every cell in my brain
screamed "impossible".

As Walt as described, they had three legs. Each was the same length,
left, right, and center. The center foot was symmetrical, with a
large toe in the center and smaller ones to each side. The left
crotch held a cock and balls, whereas the right one contained an
attractive pussy. Two arms hung from each shoulder, with the back arm
longer than the front so both could bend at the elbow and still move
freely. The five tits were arranged in a high upper row of two and a
lower set of three, still over the ribs. Betty's tits were large and
firm. Landry's were small and conical, not as large as Betty's but
definitely showing some development. Of course, they had two ass
cracks in back with a flexible tail hanging over each one. Their
hips, ribs, and shoulders were unusually wide to accommodate the extra
parts.

"We're glad to meet you, Deb," Betty said for the third time.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Betty. I apologize for staring. We're pleased to
have you here. Did you both have a good trip from San Diego?" I
recovered.

"Not bad, considering everything. The concourse at the airport is one
of the few clothing optional areas in San Diego. They have to
accommodate the travelers, you know. We planned on stuffing our
clothes in a coin locker but none were available and we had to buy a
garment bag just to drag them along. Then, we found that our hips
were too wide for coach seats and had to buy a third ticket for the
center seat. Fastening seat belts was an adventure. Ten other
passengers asked me where I buy my bras. I suppose they each thought
their joke was original. Anyway, we're here. Is that your husband
over there, Deb?" Betty asked.

"My name is Doug. Despite being in this body, I'm a man. Over there,
in my body, is Lisa Kahr, my fiancee. Our bodies got switched early
on."

"I'm sure we've never seen anyone like you," remarked Landry. "What
do you call your body type?"

"There seem to be just a few of us, Landry. I use the term
'gargoyle', for lack of a better word. I'd be interested in hearing
about your experiences." Lisa and Cynthia were greeting the other
attendees.

"We operate two hair styling salons and a tanning parlor in San
Diego," said Betty. "The hair business is off, so to speak, and
getting an all-over tan is less of a problem every day. We're ready
to diversify into the new product lines that are bound to spring up."

"Thanks for the resume, but I was asking about your physical changes,"
I explained.

"Would you believe they occurred in three steps?" Betty began wryly.
"Monday morning we woke up with very wide hips and shoulders. I had
an eight inch gap between thighs and my breasts were a foot apart. I
managed to put on an old wrap-around skirt from my heavier days and a
T-shirt borrowed from Landry. We each spent over three hundred
dollars on new clothes that day and somehow managed to open all three
shops. Tuesday morning we discovered our middle legs, double
crotches, and tails. We managed to fit our middle feet into sandals,
wore Hawaiian wrap-around skirts, and somehow got through the day.
Wednesday morning the extra arms and breasts appeared. There were no
more changes Thursday or today."

"How do you walk?"

"If I think about it, I can't do it. Even watching Landry do it gives
me a headache. I think I always keep two feet on the ground. As you
can see, it's easiest to stand in a spread position." Sure enough,
Betty was standing with her middle foot about fifteen inches in front
of the outside ones.

"The hands are another matter. Consciously, I can control either the
front set or the back, but not all four at once. When I'm not
thinking, though, I find myself using all four. For example,
yesterday I was using both front hands to comb and cut a customer's
hair. Without thinking, I used the back right hand to reach for the
spray bottle. Slowly, I seem to be getting better at it." Betty was
waving her front hands as she spoke and massaging the small of her
back with the rear ones.

"It's time to start, Doug," called Lisa. Sure enough, it was one
fifteen. I was running late.

"One more thing, Betty: if you could change back instantly to the way
you were last week, would you do it?" I asked.

"Uh, no, I don't think so, Doug. For now, this has been a really
novel experience. You didn't even ask me about my new cock and how it
feels inside Landry's pussy. I'd rather stay as I am for some time at
least."

I won't bore you with the text of my CosmaTech marketing pitch; you
could probably guess most of it anyway. The highlight occurred when
Lisa introduced a woman named Isadora Opino whom she'd met in the
hallway just before the meeting. Isadora was newly affected and felt
herself badly in need of a haircut. She had thick black hair set in
an elaborate curly hairdo. Except for her calves and face, the rest
of her body was covered with a heavy coat of black body hair. Her
pubic region looked like a giant fuzz ball.

Zach and Roberta, who had become centaurs, went to work rapidly.
Roberta used electric clippers to shorten the hair on Isadora's head,
armpits, and pussy, then Zach covered her with anesthetic and
insulating spray. Armed with the new depilatators, Zach, Roberta,
Lisa, and I spent less than five minutes giving Isadora the head-to-
toe, sleek, smooth appearance she craved. After a quick rinse in the
outdoor pool shower, she spent the rest of the afternoon socializing
with the attendees and praising the CosmaTech process. Her olive skin
looked creamy and fabulous.

By four o'clock Cynthia had completed the applications for ten
franchises. Zach and Roberta kept the Bay Area, of course. Victor
and Katie took the Houston franchise and came to an agreement with
Zach regarding Buckskin West. Mera Thonn and Waylon Bellomore took
the six-county Chicago area even though they planned to avoid day-to-
day management. Sue Missouf bought the New York franchise, saying it
could be managed as a division of another business she still owned
there. Sid had no objections.

Len & Dawn Slied were the only blanks at the meeting. They bought the
entire state of New Mexico after convincing me the state wasn't
populous enough to support a second franchise outside Albuquerque.
Saul and Wanda bought Sacramento because they knew people there and
were considering moving. In more surprise moves, Damihnd and Ada
bought the Atlanta franchise and Priscilla took Denver with Mbuno in
tow. Betty and Landry Tiquette paid top dollar for the San Diego
franchise. Ken Bahn and Dotty Lyon, who had contacted Cynthia to get
an invitation, bought Los Angeles. I have no idea where they got
their backing.

The franchise fees totaled a million and a quarter, payable within
thirty days. I told Phylen she was on the payroll immediately and
made the same offer to Priscilla, who accepted with the proviso that
she give the library two weeks notice. I tried to make Ken Bahn an
offer he couldn't refuse but found I had been grossly outbid by Dotty
Lyon. Obviously, she was the perpetrator of that partnership.

Cynthia had arranged a reception and dinner at the estate, so after
all the paperwork was signed we grouped into cars and headed toward
the East side of the bay. Betty and Landry rode with us; in fact, I
asked Landry to drive because I found it so awkward to put Lisa's long
legs under the steering wheel. Lisa and I gave a brief history of the
past two months, including a description of recent happenings at the
estate. Landry described his business dealings in San Diego and Betty
talked about their plans for CosmaTech outlets. From the back seat it
was very distracting to watch Landry wave two hands about as he
talked; I had to keep reminding myself that his lower hands were still
on the wheel. Betty was riding with both right arms folded out the
window and waving at people who did double-takes.

The reception was great. Everyone was quite positive about their new
business prospects and small groups were developing new ideas at a
rapid pace. Dan and Dee had laid out an elegant setting with white
tablecloths and silver tableware. The cabana bar was dispensing
Champaign, Napoleon Brandy, and Dos Equis. The appetizers included
caviar, smoked salmon, oysters, lobster tails, mixed nuts, sunflower
seeds, tuna patties, and beef-flavored nuggets. The Tweedles hadn't
missed a trick; there was something for everyone.

Lisa and I introduced Tiger, Calico, Phylen, Trace, Marble, and Shag
as they appeared. After a while I began to wonder about Hal and
Carla, and asked Tiger about it. He hopped onto a fence post so he
wouldn't have to shout.

"They're just worn out, Doug. Dan and I worked with them most of the
day but short glides were as much as they can handle. Dan checked
some references and feels their wings are much more like a bird's
than, say, a bat's. They need feathers, Doug."

"I have a feeling that will happen tonight, Tiger. I haven't seen the
Pearsons or Strands. Have you?"

"Spike was here most of the afternoon, checking out the controls Hank
and I installed on the flagpoles. He sure was fussy."

"I'll bet he was. Are these like focusing or positioning controls?"

"Yes, how did you guess? There's a bracket with adjustable needle
points designed to hold an irregular object in place. The bracket can
be rotated up, down, right, or left by remote control."

"Doug, it's dinner time. They want to toast you," Lisa interrupted.

Victor, Mera, and Dotty each gave brief speeches praising me for
starting CosmaTech and I thanked everyone for joining me in the risk
of a new venture. Everyone drank more Champaign, then the Tweedles
served an elegant outdoor banquet as the orange sun was setting among
the palm trees. At eight o'clock Dan and Dee carried all the tables
into the pool shack for later cleanup and served a final round of
drinks. Marble, Shag, and Carla's parents disappeared into Strand's
house sometime about then; I found out later that Smooth had saved a
bedroom for the Slieds.

When Hal and Carla arrived, even Betty, Landry, Dotty, and Ken seemed
to realize something unique was about to happen. It was a beautiful
warm evening and Hank turned off all the outside lights. Betty must
have been intrigued by either Lisa's body or me, because she accepted
my embrace readily. I pressed Lisa's two massive legs against both of
Betty's crotches; she, in turn, used one hand to massage each of
Lisa's tits and grasped Lisa's left pussy with the fourth.

Lisa had paired off with Landry and the four centaurs negotiated a
conventional swap: Dotty with Trace and Landry with Phylen. Hal
joined Calico and Tiger embraced Carla; both Calico and Tiger had to
balance on their backs with their feet in the air. Wanda, Saul,
Katie, Victor each ended up with double cocks or pussies, so I'm sure
they were with Mera, Waylon, Dan, and Dee in some combination. That
must have left Cynthia and Hank with Damihnd and Ada.

It was tough going for me to keep Betty's five tits, pussy, and cock
aroused using just two hands. Betty drew me toward the grass and
pulled Lisa's body on top of her. I rolled Lisa's tits against
Betty's and pulled a condom out of Lisa's purse. To my surprise,
Betty was already rolling on one of her own. She penetrated Lisa's
right pussy while inserting her front right thumb into the left one.
Betty's face was buried among Lisa's tits and I was massaging Betty's
right crotch furiously when everyone came.

From above, the swarm of birds was awesome, even in the dark. There
were thousands of them: tens of thousands, perhaps. The colors
weren't apparent in the darkness but the birds were huge; not trim
like an eagle but stocky like a parrot. They were far more agile than
parrots, diving, swooping, and mating in mid-air. The scene went on
for several minutes before I suddenly found myself standing in a
peaceful wooded clearing. The sun was shining brightly and four cat
people were approaching. They made no sound even though the ground
was littered with twigs and branches.

"You, who seeks to guide others, must soon choose your own destiny,"
said the largest one. It had human skin spotted like a leopard.

"What are my choices?" I asked.

"That is not for us to presume," said the cat. "Those who transcend
clearly may no longer guide. Yet, many paths are possible and many
cycles will come. The focus shapes the consummation."

"Is transcendence the consummation, then? For everyone?" I asked, not
even sure of what the question meant.

"There are many paths. I see we have exceeded your understanding. No
matter, your intuition will guide you well. Prepare," said the
leopard cat, then I was back on the grass pulling away from Betty.

"Is Dan's entrance the consomme's end, then?" Betty asked.

"No, I don't think Dan ate any soup. What kind of a question is
that?" I responded.

"I wouldn't know. You asked the question, 'Is Dan's entrance the
consomme's end, then?' I repeated it because I didn't understand it."

"You repeated it because you didn't understand it?" I asked,
dumfounded.

"Yes, I repeated the question as a question. Somehow, it seems I've
had this kind of deja vu before," said Betty.

"Does this happen often?"

"Now and again."

"Could it be: Is transcendence the consummation, then?"

"No, it was deja vu. Who were those four cats, anyway?"

To my knowledge, no one previously had shared my out-of-body meetings
with the other changelings, wherever or whoever they were. I asked
Betty directly, "Did you have an out-of-body experience just now?"

"I was suspended above the estate and saw thousands of birds, then I
was standing behind you in a secluded forest clearing. It was a
bright day and you spoke with four cat changelings. I got the
impression you believe all or some of us may enter that place."

By this time I had pulled fully away from Betty and sat cross-legged
on the grass. This proved an impossible position for Betty, who
instead knelt on the lawn with her butts on her heels.

"Honestly, Betty, I'm just along for the ride. I have no more control
over this than you or anyone else. You and I just shared the same
vision, so I don't think it was a dream or fantasy. I can tell you
this: if you don't believe in alternate realities, the next twenty-
four hours may change your mind."

"What about you, Doug?"

"Until recently, I believed that alternate realities didn't exist.
Now, I'm undecided. All these changes in Lisa and me, the others you
see here, and the thousands or millions elsewhere must be leading up
to something. The answer lies in a cave in New Mexico, recorded in a
set of pictographs based in a forgotten language. The only expert is
Dr. Allen Damihnd, one of those identical sex-changers over there.
Computer analysis tells him tomorrow is the day. By the way, he and
his assistant reached their present condition through an experimental
mishap. Everything is clear as mud, wouldn't you say?"

"No, I meant what's going to happen to you?"

"I haven't a clue, Betty," I admitted sadly. Just then, Lisa called
out for me and Hank switched on the lights. Most of the others were
standing in a circle around Hal and Carla. I couldn't believe my eyes
and ran closer for a better look. It was impossible but true. Hal
and Carla looked fabulous in their black, turquoise, and umber
plumage. They'd become fully feathered birds: living personas of the
creatures Claude Storm had painted on my head and Lisa's just before
we entered the pyramid cavern for the second time.

Carla began flexing her wing-arms as I arrived. Her span was at least
twenty feet, and the unfolded wings seemed as large as those of a hang-
glider or ultra light plane. The circle of spectators widened as her
flapping increased and Carla suddenly gained altitude and disappeared
into the night. Hal was only seconds behind her. We waited half an
hour speculating about their return and finally just went to bed. Hal
left the landing lights on.

Chapter 67. Transcendence Saturday, Week 7

Lisa and I zipped through our morning run, though I didn't bother to
time it. At my urging, Lisa located wrinkled the fax we used to
prepare ourselves for the second cavern experience and both of us
applied jewelry and makeup in strict accordance. We added other items
in unison, choosing those associated with the most significant events.

Clipper, Spike, Smooth, and Pokey had been almost invisible for a week
but they were all having breakfast together with Carla's parents. By
design, I suspect, there was no more space at their table. Bonnie and
Robin arrived just after eight o'clock and joined Lisa and me at our
table. By eight fifteen the other twenty-six guests were present:
everyone but Hal and Carla.

It must have been quarter to nine when Claude Storm's motor home
rumbled through the gates. I suppose Claude had a key card; in any
event, no one left to open the gate for him. Claude drove up the
service drive right to the edge of the pool deck. Clipper, Spike, and
Len instantly rose to greet him but waved everyone else away. To my
relief and despite house rules, Claude wore a pair of shorts and Renee
kept her mouth guard in place.

I watched with interest as Claude unloaded ten large crystals.
Clipper and Spike fitted six of them carefully into the remote control
brackets and hoisted them to the top of the flagpoles. Claude
arranged the remaining four in a large square on the deck. The
corners were marked by bricks set into the pavement. From somewhere,
Pokey withdrew a canvas-bound journal full of astrological
calculations and Clipper started reading numbers to Spike, who punched
settings into the remote control devices. Smooth made minor
adjustments to the four crystals on the ground.

As the sun continued to rise, I realized that its rays were being
focused through the elevated crystals. Suddenly I heard a tremendous
flapping and looked up to find Hal and Carla circling in a tight
pattern. Claude withdrew an eleventh crystal from his vehicle and
stood in an open area, holding the last crystal over his head with
raised arms. Carla immediately power-dived straight at him and
snatched the crystal from his fingers.

By this time the light from the flagpole crystals was starting to
focus into a square whose corners missed the ground crystals by only a
few feet. Claude, Clipper, Spike, and Len stood on the far side of
the crystal square with Renee, Smooth, Pokey, and Dawn just behind
them.

"Come, stand inside the square," I shouted. Grabbing Lisa's hand, I
entered the square myself and urged the others to join us. Thirty of
us tried to link hands and stand around the four sides, but of course
there was no way to form a perfect square. The square of light was
offset only a foot from the crystals when I noticed Claude, Pokey, and
the other six still standing outside.

"Claude, Pokey, the rest of you: come, stand inside the square," I
urged.

"It is not necessary, but thank you," replied Claude, stepping inside.
The others followed him, but we still numbered thirty-eight. The
square of light was only six inches from the crystals.

"Is everything in readiness?" Claude asked me. For the life of me I
couldn't figure out how to answer him, even though it seemed to me the
people should form a perfect square. There were thirty eight of us, I
realized, but Hal and Carla were still overhead. If Hal and Carla
were supposed to land inside, though, why did Claude give Carla a
crystal to carry?

"Doug, maybe we should have recruited some merfolk. They're the only
changelings not present," Lisa observed.

There were only a few minutes left, at the most, before the square of
light fell into place. There was no time to call Walt Bohrdweihst and
invite him over, that was for sure.

"I have two who ask to join you," Claude announced. "I can present
them to you, but only you can admit them to the apex. Do as you see
fit."

Claude clapped his hands and two merfolk emerged from the motor home.
"These are Lester and Gretta Huandor. You have not met them, but they
have helped you. For many years they managed the forest containing
the cavern, but life in the high country no longer suits them."

It was the park superintendent for the wilderness area and his wife!
Damihnd had said they were affected! The square of light would align
with the ground crystals within seconds! "Please join us!" I shouted.
The superintendent and his wife lumbered over and filled in the
missing gaps just as the flagpole beams struck the ground crystals.

Incredibly, light refracting through each of the four ground crystals
emerged in a plane, forming a pyramid of gold-colored light. Out of
the sky flew Carla, with Hal just beneath her. Carla dove toward the
pool then angled up, stalling with the crystal in her talons
positioned just at the apex of the pyramid. Light rising up the four
walls was reflected downward as a lightning bolt which struck me in
the chest! I experienced an incredible flash of ecstasy and then
watched the bolt pass through my arms and extend outward to encompass
all the others. It wasn't sex but supreme rapture! Everyone shouted
in unison then I went limp and passed out.

My surroundings, when I awoke, were familiar. I was in the same
bright, gigantic pyramid chamber I had experienced twice before during
out-of-body experiences. This time, however, I seemed to have brought
my body and thirty-nine others with me.

An incredible procession was headed toward us. In double file were
two centaurs, two cat people, two merfolk, two bird people, two
tripods, two double genitals, two hermaphrodites, two sex changers,
and two gargoyles. I urged our party to form five rows of eight and
to hold hands again. Lisa and I headed the first row while the
Storms, Strands, Pearsons, and Slieds took the rear.

The cavern was bigger than any indoor football stadium I'd seen. The
walls were covered with gold and silver pictographs, tens of thousands
at least. The procession split into right and left flanks as it met
us, forming a single line with the gargoyles in the middle. A moment
passed until I realized they were waiting for us, then I grasped my
hand with Lisa's and approached them.

"Good morning," I greeted the two gargoyles. "A lot has happened,
most of which we don't understand. Yet, here we are. Where are we?"

"My name is Laechid," said the male, "and this is Ithoroi. You are
here; that is all that matters. Not only have you come, but freedom
from want and tyranny has been extended to many in that domain which
you left. Here your quest will be to discover and create, not merely
to survive. With no struggle to survive well, there is no purpose to
surviving grandly. This is not appreciated in that other realm."

"Is there no wealth here, then?" I asked, scanning the thousands of
golden plaques.

"There is achievement. There is respect. There is the honor of being
known widely. However, only a foolish person would hoard what is
plentiful," said Laechid.

"What will our lives be like?" Lisa asked.

"We will welcome you, answer your questions, and show you our customs.
Then, you may pursue the quest of your heart's desire," Ithoroi
answered.

"What kind of quest is acceptable?" I answered.

"Who can say? That which fulfills your destiny, or course, but who
can see destiny? A worthy quest betters yourself and lessens no one
else," Laechid explained.

"We didn't ask to come here. That makes us prisoners and lessens us,"
I asserted.

"You may return from whence you came, though the difficulty increases
with time. I see that eight finders have made the journey with you;
you may return with them if that is your choice," Laechid stated
simply.

"Do you mean those eight in the back? Can't they stay?" Lisa urged.

"Each person has their destiny," Ithoroi explained. "The finders who
assisted you have but a single mind's eye. It is an accident of
birth. They receive long life and the satisfaction of leading others
to find the path," Laechid said.

I looked back at the Storms and received yet another shock. Claude
and Renee were young again, he a handsome and muscular warrior and she
a beautiful maiden. They sex organs were back in their proper places
and both had long silky black hair that hung straight to their waists.
The Pearsons, Strands, and Slieds seemed to have reverted to their
twenties also.

Yet, despite their renewed bodies, their eyes revealed a deep sadness
and a bitter regret that haunted me instantly. I walked over the
Claude, now standing defiantly as any warrior, and asked him his age.

"Fifty-seven cycles," he answered.

"Laechid, Claude was fifty-seven and he looked fifty-seven. Where is
the long life you spoke of?" I asked.

The chilling answer came from Clipper. "Doug, a cycle is twelve
years. That's how often transcendence takes place. This group,
thirty-two, is the largest since Cloud of Many Storms led the entire
Anasazi tribe through the second pyramid chamber. He didn't know he'd
be left behind. Cloud has been the last of his tribe for 684 years."
Claude stood bravely but a tear rolled down his cheek.

"And you?" I asked Clipper.

He sighed. "Ninteen cycles, Doug. I fought in the Revolutionary War.
Don't ask which side."

"If you could stay here, would you?" Lisa asked.

"If Smooth would join me, oh yes, in a second, Doug. Oh yes," Clipper
replied.

I stared out of Lisa's eyes into my own, she stared back, and then she
nodded my head. It was agreed and I returned to Laechid to make it
happen.

"Lisa, my fiancee, and I have no desire to remain here," I proclaimed.
"Our destiny lies on Earth, the world into which we were born. We
have seen your powers, and know you can change bodies. These gargoyle
bodies we have now are not our own. Let two of the finders stay, and
let us return in their bodies."

"Doug, don't do it. You don't know what you're giving up!" Spike
called out from his position.

"What you ask is possible but has never been done. As the finder
says, you do not yet realize the extent of your sacrifice. Still,
your destiny must be what you choose it to be. Which finder will you
replace?" Laechid asked.

This I hadn't counted on. Claude and Renee had been waiting the
longest, but the others were worthy too. Clipper, Smooth, Spike, and
Pokey had helped us the most. Carla's parents had probably been
waiting for centuries as well.

As I should have exptected, the problem was solved in unexpected
fashion. Victor and Katie strode to the front and announced that if
Lisa was staying behind, so were they. In addition, Victor felt his
quest was the building of Buckskin West. Moments later we were joined
by Saul and Wanda, who stated that as medical practitioners their
skills would be useless, and by Damihnd and Ada, who preferred to keep
exploring the world they'd started with.

"Very well," said Laechid. "You eight may return and the finders may
stay. If that is your wish, place both hands over your heart and
listen. As finders, your quest will aid those whose destiny leads
them to this world. Do not interfere; do not assist; do not reveal
what you think you know. There is much you do not know and may never
know. Steer the seekers gently from the wrong path but not toward any
other. If they are worthy, they will find their way. It is their
quest, not yours. If you err, we may speak to you in dreams or punish
you with afflictions. Do you accept this quest and reject your entry
to our world?"

"Yes," spoke eight voices in unison.

"Very well: it is done. Good fortune to you all," Laechid concluded.

"Good fortune indeed," wished Ithoroi, then everything blacked out.

Chapter 68. Aftermath Sunday, Week 7

Time may pass differently in that other world, or perhaps, traveling
back and forth utterly tires a person. Maybe it was the total,
instant body change that did it. In any event, Lisa and I both slept
until Sunday morning.

The first thing I did was to wiggle my toes. It was great; they
didn't even hang over the edge of the mattress. I ran my fingers
through my hair, too. It was long, thick, and felt great. I knew my
balance would be way off and decided to stay in bed for a while. Lisa
was still asleep so I reached for the cock I'd been missing for six
weeks. Not. I discovered a hairless pussy with rings welded into it!

Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that. I soon discovered a pair of
tits stuck onto my chest, also with rings welded in. In fact, I
sensed the now familiar pressure of a lip chain hanging across my jaw.
Carefully, I swung my legs (tattooed legs, I noticed) off the
mattress, sat up, and stared into the mirror. I definitely wasn't
expecting to see Pokey's face.

Carefully, I stood up walked to the bathroom, sat, and pissed. On the
plus side, I was back in a world where I felt I belonged, I was in
excellent health, and I might live to be six or seven hundred years
old. On the minus side, I inhabited the body of a tattooed lady with
heavy piercings. I was neither blank, nor affected, nor changed.

I heard sheets rustling in the bedroom, followed by the words "Oh
shit!" in a masculine voice. Holding the wall to keep my balance, I
entered the bedroom and saw Claude Storm's naked butt in the flesh and
the reflection of his face in the mirror.

"I believe a few introductions are in order. My name is Doug Trents,
appearances notwithstanding. I'm not sure I recognize you correctly,
though. Perhaps you can help."

I had to dodge a pillow before getting an answer. The pillow wasn't
thrown that well, but I wasn't very good at dodging, either. "It's
me, Lisa, you idiot. Who did you think you were sleeping with?"

"Actually, I don't mind a practical joke if its harmless and well
done. I hope you like playing cowboys and Indians." This resulted in
another pillow barrage.

"What the hell are you doing in Pokey's body?" Lisa asked with
considerable agitation in Claude's voice.

"Dodging pillows. Remind me never to give you a bow and arrows."
This resulted in the third and final pillow whacking me in Pokey's
face. Her jewelry jingled.

"Well, you always wanted Pokey's body. Now you have it. Are you
satisfied?" Lisa asked stubbornly.

"No, I expected to get a male body. I was hoping for Claude's,
actually," I answered.

"Really? Uh, I guess I'm jealous. I was hoping for Pokey's. It
seems we really have each other now, don't we?"

In fact, we had each other right there on the bed. I missed the
incredible strength we used to have and the sensation of double
pussies being slammed by gigantic double cocks, but thoroughly enjoyed
a simple session of straight human sex. Fortunately, I still had some
normal-sized condoms in the night stand drawer. Sex with Lisa is
never dull

Epilogue One Year Later

The rest of that day was a mess. Saul turned up in Smooth's body and
Wanda in Spike's. They spent all day holed up in Smooth and Clipper's
bedroom. In the middle of the night they gathered all their stuff,
threw it into Claude's motor home, and left for Santa Fe. I let them
have the CosmaTech franchise for New Mexico.

Allen Damihnd and Ada Kamp found themselves in the youthful bodies of
Len Slied and Renee Storm. Damihnd convinced officials at the college
of his true identity and resumed study of the cavern narratives. He
was fired six months later for getting the governor's daughter
pregnant but continued private research under my sponsorship. Ada was
hired as the park superintendent for the wilderness area, allowing her
to keep a close eye on the cavern. She was captivating in Renee's
strong young body and attracted a series of passionate lovers.

Katie Kahr found herself in the body of Clipper Strands; Victor, of
course, received the eighth finder body, that of Dawn Slied. Katie
was fascinated by Clipper's long hair and spent most of the day
arranging it various ways. She grew a beard, enrolled in a hair
styling college, and took over management of Tress & Less. Victor
spent his first day moping around the estate and crying on Pokey's
shoulder. I'm not sure if he felt worse about being in a female body
or a heavily tattooed one, but I convinced him we were kindred spirits
and urged him to continue building Buckskin West. He finished it,
opened it, and made money from the first day, even though the
clientele was completely different from what he expected. That's
another story.

For Lisa and me, the first problem was to keep the estate running for
ourselves, the Kahrs, Marble, and Shag. Marble was our lifesaver
regarding the estate; she recalled the name of the domestic service
her parents used when Dan, Dee, Cynthia, or Hank took vacation. We
called them Monday morning and arranged for a cook, maid, and gardener
to start work immediately.

Spike's whole-house collection of spears, arrows, darts, and piercing
equipment was too much for Lisa's parents to bear, so Victor and Katie
moved into Strand's house. For Lisa and me, it was a little weird
going to bed surrounded by voodoo masks and spears; at least the
mattress already fit Pokey's back. Lisa keeps wanting to remodel but
I hate to break up Spike's collection.

After two weeks we hired a pair of Mexican centaurs to do the outside
work. Lisa moved Hank's exercise equipment down to Fit & Trim and we
remodeled the workout area into a three-sided shelter for the
centaurs. Hank's old rooms were used by the centaur's three kids who,
being straight human, needed more protection from the elements. Most
kids, even those with blank parents, were discovering the joys of
running naked in those days; the house rules on clothing (not)
required little enforcement.

Lisa hired a pair of tripod cooks with excellent restaurant
credentials. Watching them prepare an omelet or a chef salad still
gives me a headache. She also hired a pair of cats for cleaning,
dusting, and whatever outdoor work the centaurs can't reach.

With our stockholders, our accountant, and our lawyer all gone, Lisa
and I spent most of the first month trying to organize our holdings.
Georgie called the estate Monday morning and spoke to me after first
requesting Clipper, Spike, Smooth, or Pokey. I explained vaguely they
were all gone. At that point, Georgie asked Lisa and me to appear
immediately at Robin's office for urgent business. I knew Robin was
gone, too, but agreed to be there at one o'clock.

I could not have been more astonished. Clipper and Smooth had issued
written instructions that during any absence beginning that weekend,
control of their property should revert to the Pearsons, the Banks, or
to Lisa and myself, in that order. If the absence continued thirteen
years, transfer of the property became permanent. The Pearsons and
Bonnie had left similar documents. Lisa and I controlled the estate,
the patents, Essence Alley, the hotels, the apartments, and all of
Bonnie's other properties! In addition, I had total control of
CosmaTech and Lisa assumed full ownership of Fit & Trim Salons!

I tried to leave Quixotic Designs but Eric Tower wouldn't hear of it.
We finally worked out a deal where I became a 49% partner in Quixotic
Western Branch, which operated as a joint venture subsidiary.
Quixotic West produces consistent profits supplying engineering
services to MicroMind, CosmaTech, and a growing number of Silicon
Valley firms.

Robin's legal practice was taken over by his part-time minority
partner, a hermaphrodite named Brendon Snappe. Brendon never told me
whether that name was originally Brenda or Brandon; such attitudes
were typical of hermaphrodites and sex-changers for quite a while.

People apparently stopped being affected (inspirited, if you will)
that Saturday at 9:07 AM Pacific Daylight Time. Even among affected
people, no changes began after that time. Changes in progress ran
their course. Still, if you were much over eighteen years old,
whatever you were a week later was what you stayed.

Altogether, about ten percent of the U.S. population was affected and
half of those were changed. The pattern of changes was:

Centaurs 41%
Cats 29%
Merfolk 11%
Hermaphrodites 8%
Sex-Changers 7%
Tripods 4%

No gargoyles have been reported. If any double-genital, triple-titted
channels like Mera, Waylon, and Bonnie remain, they're apparently
keeping out of sight and definitely not affecting people.

By all reports, children are born in normal human form, regardless of
their parents' changes. Latent inspiritations and form changes tend
to appear between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one. The result is
a major lifestyle split between parents and children, especially for
merfolk and centaurs. The sociologists promise to let everyone know
the effects of this as soon as they figure it out.

The census bureau estimates that six million centaurs are U.S.
citizens. At least a third have trotted away from their old lives and
found tranquil refuge in national forests and other protected areas.
They're excellent environmental citizens, grazing sparsely on the
local vegetation and moving on before they destroy it. There are no
vehicles, no cans, no bottles, no plastic, no chemicals. In some
areas they've formed voting blocks and returned undeveloped land to
the status of permanent open range.

Cats tend to stay in town, but live simply with little furniture and
no clothing. Some of them get quite adept at fine work but the short
stubby fingers definitely reduce their choice of occupations. They
keep to themselves a lot, either singly or in small groups.

Merfolk without children almost universally take to sea. They've
started voter registration drives in high pollution areas and are
systematically cleaning up the waterways. Those with children have an
awful time trying to maintain a normal family life. Two merfolk
parents featured in a national magazine bought waterfront property and
drive the kids to school in a modified van. On the downside are
reports of sick children going unnoticed because their parents sleep
outside in the swimming pool.

The hermaphrodites and sex-changers lead fairly normal lives.
Discrimination is rampant, judging from all the lawsuits, and the
courts have been slow in delivering rulings. Obsessive curiosity from
blanks has forced many hermaphrodites back into wearing clothes or
moving to areas where they are more common. Individuals become
fathers and mothers as the mood strikes them.

The tripods lead fairly normal lives but, like the sex-changers and
hermaphrodites, they tend to group together for support. Being fewest
in number, they gain the most attention wherever they appear. They
don't appreciate it.

I'm a success by any definition I would have proposed before all this
started. I'm wealthy; I'm powerful; I live in a mansion; I drive an
expensive car; and I own six corporations. I fell into all this
because the previous owners left for something better. Frequently, I
wonder if this is my destiny; I wonder if my quest is over. Perhaps
Lisa and I do have another quest waiting for us in that other world.
In about ten and a half years, it will be time to start watching for
the next focus, guiding the next seekers, and leading them to the next
apex. Maybe they'll want to stay behind and let us go instead.

For now, I'm still trying to figure out how Pokey's body became two
months pregnant on the day of transcendence. The twins seem perfectly
normal; we named them Mary Anna and Barry. Actually, I don't mind a
practical joke if its harmless and well done.