Cinderellas Slippers

The Fairy Godmother Device: Cinderella's Slippers Part III By Dee Dee Perri

CHAPTER 1

The young woman's figure was nearly hidden by the cascade of golden-red hair that fell across her shoulders and down her chest and back. However as she moved, proud, pointed breasts intermittently peeked through the silky mantle exposing soft, pink nipples to the cool ocean breeze that surged through the open patio door. And as she approached the bed that dominated the room, her lush hips swayed invitingly as if a lover lay there waiting for her, but she was alone with her thoughts and desires. At the edge of the bed she stopped to re-arrange her hair. As she moved the errant strands so that they fell behind her shoulders and down her back once more, her small waist came into view. In a single liquid movement she threw back the sheets and climbed onto the bed.

For a moment she lay there quietly on her back looking up at the mirror mounted directly above her. Her hair formed a golden-red halo that contrasted vividly with the forest green silk sheets. Against this background, her pale, white skin took on a distinct pink tint that suggested both softness and warmth. Her wide blue eyes alertly examined the reflection as her hands began to explore the contours of her own body.

As one hand descended to her genitals, a flush began to appear on her chest. Now alternately rubbing her clitoris and vagina with one hand, she began to rub her breasts with the other. Very slowly her breathing began to change, eventually becoming ragged and labored. As her hips began to rock, she continued to twist and pull at her nipples but with increasing vigor. Her eyes became glazed just before she began to moan, a sound which seemed to issue from deep in her throat.

Eventually her eyes closed entirely as her full lips opened, exposing a pink tongue that flicked excitedly across her own lips. Finally with a long, drawn out primitive groan, she began to climax.

It was a solution of sorts, thought Don, as he lay looking up at his own reflection, the sheen of perspiration making his all too perfect, completely feminine image even more sensuous if such were possible. Waves of erotic sensations continued to move through his body like an echo of the orgasm he had just experienced. As a man trapped inside this female body for the last two and a half years, he had not been able to over come his psychological, almost pathological, aversion of having sex with a man, not that he hadn't tried a few times. And this body seemed to have the same aversion to sex with a woman. So he had been reduced to masturbation. Just looking at this bountiful body and beautiful face was enough to excite his male mind and the female body didn't seem to mind the self stimulation. Yet this solution could not be maintained forever. Dr. Donald Arnold was lonely, almost desperately lonely. Somehow he had to find a way through this impasse between her body and his mind and soon!

The sounds of the surf just below brought back memories of a time when he had shared this very room with a beautiful woman... He could still see his Frankie, her dark brown hair and mysterious almond shaped eyes formed a vivid image in his brain. Gone!

But not, he thought rudely, before she had done THIS to me! Beautiful Frankie had been Dr. Frank Penner, a professor at U.C.L.A., that is before he had been utterly transformed into the most beautiful woman that Don had ever known. How could Frankie not have understood that he, Don Arnold, needed her as she was not re-converted into her old middle-aged male body! And then to apply the process to ME!

But Frankie was gone now, maybe forever. And my transformation into a fairy-princess forever unless...unless the principle of the process could be understood. Unconsciously, Don's small, feminine hands formed into fists as a look of defiance came over his delicate features.

His introspection was interrupted by the phone. "Arnold here." He said. The femininity of his voice was still distracting a constant reminder of his condition.

It was Brian Anderson. "Don, we're ready to run the first live test. I knew you wouldn't want us to start without you."

"Already?"

"Yes, we found the problem, a ground loop. Something to do with the fact that the facility was built on a land fill. Anyhow, we're ready when you are."

Excitement flared in Don's eyes. "I'll be there immediately!

To the untrained eye there was nothing exciting about the laboratory. No whizzing arcs of lightning like in the '30s Frankenstein movies. There weren't even any computers visible though Don knew that about a quarter of a mile away existed one of the most powerful systems that Cray had ever devised, easily able to handle the 10 to the 15th bytes per second through-put that would be required when the device was operated. Indeed, there were absolutely no machines that would generate significant extraneous electromagnetic fields in the building. A multitude of solid state transducers would feed their weak signals down state-of-the-art optical channels, but nothing impressive to the eye. "Hard to believe," he said to his colleague, "that my brother and I have invested over 60 million in this facility. What do you think Brian, is it going to work?"

The tall, thin physicist just shrugged his shoulders. A technician bustled in carrying a small metal cage. "Here's the subject Doc." Said Brian. "A white rat that's in perfect health."

Dr. Anderson looked over at the young red head, the feminine face bright with excitement.

"Don, " he said softly so that the technician who was already on the platform wouldn't hear. "it's only a preliminary test. Don't get your hopes up too much. Are you ready to leave the building?"

"I told you before Bri!" Retorted Don angrily, his lust lips slipping into a pout. "I want to see it with my own two eyes. I want to be here, not a mile away watching a monitor." Dr. Anderson just gritted his teeth. He had been through all the arguments with his Boss months before. How it might be dangerous or his presence might disrupt the process. But hey, Dr. Donald Arnold and his brother Howard owned the place. Finally he said quietly, "If you're staying, then so am I Don."

The small white rat was lying on the raised platform, drugged. The technician picked up the carrying case and quickly left the room. As soon as the electromagnetic isolation was re-established, Dr. Anderson nodded his head toward Don. "You can bring the platform in contact with the device any time now Boss. All systems are on line for the event." The platform would fall precisely 1 centimeter, not much of a displacement but once contact was established with the silicone surface, the device, all hell should break loose, at least on the electromagnetic continuum. "Now!" Said the slender redhead as he released the platform.

"Not much of a show." Don whispered nervously. The laboratory was as quiet as a tomb and the rat remained motionless for the next several seconds. Then suddenly, as if the drug had worn off, the rat began to twitch and squirm. But it was not movements of the limbs or head that a rat might make, rather the whole figure seemed to be changing. As the two scientists finally let out their breaths in a collective sigh of relief, the figure began to rapidly expand. Almost instantly the much larger, ill defined form coalesced into recognizable shape: a slender young woman was now lying on the platform. Her nude body was precisely the type of figure that they had expected, a fairy prototype of extraordinary beauty. "WE DID IT!" Exclaimed Don.

Brian said nothing. But his eyes showed astonishment for although he had been working on this project from the beginning, this was the first time that he had actually witnessed one of the transformations. Indeed, he mused, there were no existing models in physics that could account for the event that he had just observed. As he looked up at a monitor to obtain some of the preliminary results of the event he immediately noted that the maximum amplitude of the local field had peaked at under 70 micro volts, a level one would normally associate with a neurological event and hardly compatible with the transfer of a mass in excess of 40 kilograms!

The figure had begun to move in an uncoordinated fashion as three white coated technicians entered the room. Brian recognized the large, bulky figure of Ralph Gordon, one of the engineers in his division. The man grabbed one arm of the creature as his partner reached for the second. In a blur of movement, the rat-now-woman reacted to the touch by launching a savage attack. In an instant the creature had turned and grabbed Ralph's ear in her mouth. The sound of teeth tearing cartilage was clearly audible even to Brian standing at the opposite end of the laboratory.

Pandemonium erupted. The large man and the creature each began too shriek, though in different keys. The second technician was ineffectually attempting to break the rat- woman's hold on Ralph when the sound of the tranquilizer gun's discharge intervened. The drama actually seemed to increase for the next few moments for the drug had no immediate impact on the creature and the sting of the dart seemed only increased its madness. And then, all in an instant, she began to collapse. The thing slid off the platform, as if boneless, and onto the floor. The blood smeared face appeared to be in perfect agreement with the insane expression on the rat woman's otherwise attractive face. "GRAB HIM!" Yelled Brian.

Ralph Gordon had just pulled a bloody hand away from his destroyed ear. His eyes had a glazed look as if he were going into shock. He made two staggering steps away from the platform and toward the medical team that was just now rushing into the room when suddenly he lurched backward stiff legged. On the third stagger he hit the edge of the platform and began to fall. In a reflexive act, he swung his bloody hand out to stay his fall. The moment it made contact with the surface of the platform, an expression came over his face, the meaning of which was all too apparent. In spite of his disorientation, pain and developing shock, his face said only one thing: OH SHIT!

As if he had touched a hot stove, Ralph jerked his hand away but it was clear that the process had been initiated. He slowly slid to the floor, the pain of his injury now clearly out of his mind, as a strange feeling began to envelop his entire body. He looked straight across to his supervisor. "Dr. Anderson! Help me!"

Except for the attendants removing the unconscious "ratty-Jane" as she would be called, everyone else in the room was staring at the transformation in progress beside the platform. Ralph remained conscious throughout the event though his ability to move seemed impaired. He was staring down at his body as the lab coat appeared to grow in relative size. The bald dome of his head suddenly darkened as a rich crop of brown hair emerged; simultaneously, his face melted into a new configuration.

A hush had fallen over the room; all seemed to be frozen in place. Finally the transformed figure looked up once again toward his boss and called out in a plaintive voice, "Dr. Anderson?"

They had planned on a double shift today since it was clear that much would be happening. But the second shift of workers had begun to arrive several hours earlier than expected and the first shift had generally hung around after their obligation had been met, such was the excitement generated by the experiments at the Cedar facility. The press of personnel had driven Don Arnold to seek the quiet of his office atop the building. By six- thirty that evening, a flood of preliminary reports were already on his desk. The physical examination of the "ratty-Jane" indicated a normal human female in both body and brain. The staff psychologist had already presented a request to keep the creature for extended study. Apparently the idea of a woman with the intellectual history of a white rat was something exciting to him, something about the "nature-nurture" problem he had written. However, Don had found the video tape made this afternoon of the creature to be quite unsettling. The expression on the face and the eyes, especially the eyes, was frankly frightening. A rat trapped in a human body was not a pretty sight. He wrote on the folder that the request was under review and placed it in the out box.

After a cursory knock at the door, Brian let himself into the office. "Don, I've got some very interesting results to show you." Sliding the thick folder onto Don's desk he continued. "The lab results indicate that Ralph and the animal subject have EXACTLY THE SAME GENETIC STRUCTURE! They are identical twins."

Don's wide blue eyes grew wider still. "EXACTLY THE SAME! With the artifacts the subjects have always been DIFFERENT! Bri, what that means is..."

"Yes!" Interrupted Brian. The Fairy Transmutation Device accepted our interface as a fixed instruction for a new program! Don you were right. No variation in the molecular arrangement of our Transmitter are read as a request for the same product."

"AND VARIATIONS IN THE PATTERN..." yelped Don excitedly for at that moment he knew that the solution to his personal problem, that is continuing as a man in a woman's body, was at hand -- well almost. The small red head leaped up from his chair and flung himself onto Brian. The close contact caused the shy physicist to blush. "You've made my day!" gushed Don.

Two floors below things were not going nearly so well. Ralph was setting on a chair in front of Dr. Klosky, the staff psychologist. The small female figure was wringing her hands as the psychologist spoke. "Ralph, we'll need to confront this situation head on. It would be unwise for me to give you any false hopes. You know as well as I do that the research has just started and it could be months or even years before a readjustment of your form might be possible. And remember that a return to your original body might never be possible. My staff and I will help you made the necessary ah adjustments. Besides, more than half of the people in this world are female and most of them seem to do just fine."

"DOCTOR!" Wailed Ralph. A thick strand of hair abruptly fell over his right eye which he nervously pushed back across his slender shoulders. "My wife and kids?"

"Yes," Said Dr. Klosky solemnly. "This accident will be most difficult to explain ah to them. You understand that the Cedar family would not like this ah situation to be generally known. If the news media were to get a hold of this well Ralph, the operation might have to be shut down and with that, well your chance to a normal life would be gone."

"My kids?"

"We're not that cruel Ralph. Arrangements will be made to re-unite you with your family and the sooner the better. Your wife has been told the facts, or at least some of them already. She will be going through therapy as well, you can trust me on that. All of you will be housed here, at Cedar-Death Valley. And in time, you'll be able to go back to your work."

"My kids?" Ralph repeated.

"Ah!" Mused Dr. Klosky. "They will be told that their father is on a trip, at least at first. But you will join them, never fear as your wife's cousin or some such."

Ralph's expression, however, was anything but satisfied. "You mean as a woman?"

"Of course Ralph. Don't worry, we know what we're doing trust me!"

Brian Anderson didn't go home until late that night but none the less he went directly to his study to continue his work for the events of this day had left his mind far too aroused to allow sleep. The accident involving Ralph had been a blessing in disguise. Now they had the signature of two entirely different organisms transmuted into exactly the same configuration. Disparities between the electromagnetic events should at least indicate how the initial atomic structures of the target is represented.

Yet a sense of disquiet hung over the physicist. The radiation that originated from their mechanism was simply too weak. How could the Transmutation device located thousands of miles away and buried deep within the earth detect such a slight flux in the admittedly complex electromagnetic field that now existed on earth? Was it possible that the radiation that they were examining was only an incidental byproduct of the process, possibly uncorrelated to the actual causal signal?

Only trial and error experiments would resolve these questions. The latter thought bothered Brian greatly. Working in the absence of a formal model with clear mathematical rules was unnerving. Tomorrow they would try another animal subject. How many creatures would they eventually create until they mastered the process? How long would it take? There were literally 2 raised to the 48th power possible configurations that their device could assume. How many were valid patterns?

And then the situation with Ralph. It would be easy enough to keep the man on the project. He was, after all a dedicated member of the team and, if he wanted to regain his male form? Well here was the only facility which had that potential. No the man wasn't the problem. But his wife! Cedar Inc. could hardly afford to have the media get wind of what they were doing and if she were to leave? Brian's face paled at the thought. An angry, frightened woman suddenly cut off from her mate. It was easy to imagine her seeking out the media out of anger or even just for the money. NO! He had already made it clear to the Psychological team that HER continued presence at Cedar-Death Valley was imperative to the security of the operation. Hopefully they would be able to find a way to make her want to remain. In his gut, Brian knew that Don Arnold might agree to a forced retention of the woman so intense was the man's commitment to the project. Brian wanted no part in such a solution. Fortunately Dr. Klosky was good at his profession. Surely he could find a humane solution to this problem.

It had taken most of the previous day and all of the night for the Psychological Services Group to agree on an approach to the problem of Ralph Gordon. The organization's needs were quite clear, the accident must be kept from outside eyes. Yet these were humane people, how could they make the unfortunate subject of the transformation comfortable?

"Kirk, the test scores?" Asked Dr. Klosky.

The young Ph.D. began fumbling through the sizable mound of print outs before him. "Just the summary Kirk, we'll consider the details later."

Pausing, the young man sat up straight in his chair and looked around at the group assembled. "Well" He began in a halting voice. "The profiles on both subjects are ah not good. Not good at all! Mr. Gordon is your typical engineer. Little evidence of feminine aspects, in fact, rather extreme on the Taylor M-F Scale. Rigid, concrete and not at all spontaneous. Strong, outward focused, you know ah typical." He began rubbing his hands together. "Prognosis he's not likely to adopt a feminine orientation."

"And his wife?" Interrupted Dr. Klosky.

The young man shrugged his shoulders. "No evidence of homosexual tendencies, if that is what you are looking for Doctor. Prolonged close contact between these two under the circumstances will not be satisfactory..."

"Mary?" Interrupted Dr. Klosky. The woman looked as if she would shit-a-brick if she didn't have a chance to speak right now.

"Kirk is ignoring what I believe are significant facts."

"Go on Mary."

"First, Mr. Gordon's strong male orientation isn't a liability. It's his wife's heterosexual orientation that will tend to be disruptive, at least in terms of maintaining the relationship and we're all agreed that their relationship is the key right? And second, on the Stanford Suggestibility Scale well Mrs. Gordon is VERY suggestible."

"You mean hypnotize her and exactly to what purpose?" Interrupted Kirk.

"No! It's not necessary. In fact it would be unreliable." Continued the woman. It's just that we can manipulate her expectations regarding the consequences of the transformation and...well, Mrs. Gordon is decidedly a dependent personality. I believe with a little help, Mrs. Gordon's sexual orientation can be adjusted slightly and --"

"That would be MOST UNETHICAL!" Interrupted Kirk.

"Of course!" Dr. Klosky's face was beaming. "Kirk, I'll take full responsibility. And now what about the MMPI, Harold?"

Chapter 2

Unlike the rest of the Psychological Services Group, Dr. Mary A. Brown did not go to bed that night. The first meeting in the morning was with Mr. Ralph Gordon. It was obvious that he was still under the influence of the medication he had received earlier in the evening to help him sleep and she had counted on that fact. Groggy and disorientated he sat in the chair before her. With her best concerned look, Mary began the first stage of the manipulation that the group had agreed upon.

"Mr. Gordon. Our tests show that there were substantial alterations in your brain."

"Huh!" Responded the subject. Alarm was clearly evident on his-her face.

"Do you remember the tests we conducted yesterday?"

His face was a blank as he nodded his head.

Dr. Brown gritted her teeth before continuing for she found it uncomfortable to lie. But it was important that she gain the man's full cooperation in the matter at hand. The threat that he might lose his identity would surely suffice, it would work for her if she were faced with that possibility. "Of the tests you completed yesterday Mr. Gordon, one measured your ah sexual attitudes, fundamental characteristics on the male-female dimension and well..." She paused to give her words greater impact on the subject. "It showed a 33 percent shift toward the feminine pole. I wouldn't be surprised if by now, you are more than half way toward a full female identity. Mr. Gordon, in a few hours or at most a couple of days, your mind will conform to the body you possess unless we take decisive action now!. You will be female. Your male identity will be destroyed!"

Now the subject was sitting up in the chair, his eyes expressed horror. "Mr. Gordon, it is not a question of what you will become, simply of how soon the process will be completed unless we get your full cooperation."

"My wife?" He said with anguish in his-her voice.

"I think," She said, pausing to hold her chin in her hand while staring at him carefully. "If you really want to maintain that relationship..."

"But I do!" He broke in.

"You'll have to get her to accept you as you now appear."

"But Matty, well Doc, I just don't think she'll go for that you know. She's well traditional ah-" Looking down at his obviously female body. "It'd be like a homosexual."

"Ralph, there's more at stake here than just maintaining your relationship with your wife. If she leaves, she'll take the kids as well probably."

"Yea, she would." Said Ralph with his face showing his anguish.

"And in time, left on your own, well it is likely that you will begin to have sexual relations with men."

"I wouldn't do that Doctor Brown." He said with disgust.

"As I said, you have a lot riding on getting your wife comfortable with the idea of living with a man in a woman's body. But if you're willing to work at it Ralph --"

He interrupted her with a vigorous nod of his head.

"My team will work closely on this problem with you. You are not alone we'll save your male identity."

"What'll I have to do?"

Dr. Anderson had wanted to make a very small adjustment in the magnetic field that defined the "code" of the Cedar-Death Valley Laboratory device before testing the next animal subject. Dr. Arnold had argued vociferously for a large variation in the same field, indeed a 170 degree reversal. His logic was reasonable enough, if the initial setting created a female, possibly the reversal of the field would result in a male. The latter out come was of considerable value to the small man-woman. Of course, Dr. Anderson gave in to the demands of his employer. It was with considerable disquiet however that Brian finally ordered the drugged subject placed on the platform. What would they create today? The same procedure was used today as yesterday. Brian and his boss remained in the room with the subject, a white rat. Seconds after the platform descended onto the device the animal began to change in form and size. The now amorphous mass had grown to humanoid bulk and then suddenly both Brian and Don knew they had come upon a new phenomena. The mass continued to expand: first doubling and then doubling again in extent, it soon covered the whole platform. If it continued growing much longer, Brian planned to force his employer from the laboratory. Finally, as if in response to Brian's concerns, the growth ceased and the form coalesced.

"A tree or at least a very large bush!" Gaped Don. Both were struck by the alien appearance of the "tree". A myriad of branches sprung from the short, thick center trunk. The profusion of limbs of ever decreasing diameter terminated in twigs so small as to mimic mammalian hair. And the whole creature was gray and leafless.

"GOD! The smell!" Exclaimed Brian. It had to be the "tree" for the chamber had remained closed during the test. "It smells like rotting meat."

Three white coated technicians entered, as they did yesterday, but they remained rooted near the exit. It was obvious that they weren't prepared to move such a large object and the dart gun carried by one of them was clearly out of place. "A damned TREE!"

Grumbled one. "What do they expect us to do now?" Answered another.

But Brian was clearly fascinated by the alien looking plant. "Not just Fairy Princesses now Boss. Just imagine the billions of entities that are possible and this-" He pointed at the tree, "This isn't like any plant that I have ever seen." He touched the trunk. "It feels like flesh..." Suddenly the branches engulfed the tall, thin physicist.

The thousands of tiny hair like ending didn't just touch Brian's skin, they began to sink into him. It was like being stung buy thousands of wasps. The sudden screech of pain that leaped from this throat was almost instantly cut off. His eyes rolled up in his head and he passed out.

"ITS KILLING HIM!" Screamed Don. "DO SOMETHING!"

Several security personnel charged into the room on command but they stood there with stupid terrified looks on their faces looking at the plant that was killing Dr. Anderson. Some how their hand guns seemed totally inappropriate. The tree had already grabbed onto one of the technicians who had courageously reached in to help the entrapped scientist and so now there were two unconscious forms embedded in the whirling mass of fiber. A sudden glob of blood bubbled from Brian's mouth. At last Don began to take action. He reset the mechanism to the initial configuration.

For several seconds, the two men and the plant creature formed a frozen tableau. And then all three forms began to change. Moments later, three identical brunets lay scattered about the platform. Not wanting to repeat the mistake made yesterday, Don yelled out. "NOBODY APPROACH THE PLATFORM UNTIL ITS RAISED OFF THE DEVICE!"

"Which one's Dr. Anderson?" Called out one of the medical staff now in the laboratory. "Or Tom Scott?" Asked another. Finally The platform was disconnected from the device. "Take them all to the infirmary." Ordered Don. "And put a guard on all three of them until we sort this out."

The small red head buried his face in his hands. The near death of his colleague had shaken him to his core. Anything might emerge from this device. For the first time he realized that serious precautions would have to be taken for monsters lurked within the code. Who knows, maybe the next time a dragon?

When Brian Anderson regained consciousness the first thing he saw was his diminutive boss, Don, staring down at him. "Sorry." Said the red head in a halting voice. "It was the only thing I could think of at the time."

Brian looked down and saw what could only be breasts that swelled beneath the sheet covering him. "So that's how you did it." He said in a strangled voice.

"Yea, I reset the field to the configuration we employed yesterday. You look exactly like Ralph now."

Brian suddenly felt giddy. He'd never been comfortable around women never in his whole life. Which was one good reason that he had never married. And now? "He was afraid to look at what had happened to him but morbid curiosity finally got the better of him. I need to see myself." He said breathlessly. He was startled by his rising anxiety. As he sat up in the bed, the sheet slipped down. He was naked. Small, but well formed breasts wiggled from the movement. He had an almost over powering urge to touch them to ascertain their reality but he was embarrassed to do so in front of Don. He simply let out a sigh when the fact of his transformation was visibly evident. "Don," And then he self-consciously covered himself once again with the sheet. "I think I'll need a few days off to adjust..." His pretty feminine features took on a far away look.

"You'll want professional help Brian, I'll have..."

"No Don. No shrinks please. Maybe, if someone can get me some clothes, I'll go home now." Embarrassment was written over his womanly features.

"Sure Bri." Don said quietly. "I'll have my driver take you home. OK?"

"Look Dr. Arnold. Yesterday's assignments we could handle, what with Mr. and Mrs. Gordon and the animal subject, we were running at maximum. Mary hasn't even gone to bed yet but we were still on top of things. But three more patients today?" Dr. Samuel Klosky's face was a mask of concern.

"Only two Sam. Brian wants to work this out on his own."

"Still..."

"What are you asking for Sam?"

"More latitude. The Gordon woman for example is proving intractable. Unless you want her to go to the authorities, well forced detention until we can shape her behavior."

Power corrupts, thought Don and absolute power, that's what they have now, absolute power. But a prison? The facility was designed to keep people out, not in. "Sam, you read the report on Frank Penner and Sara Bixenstein."

"Yes, of course."

"We'll try to re-create the same scenario on the Gordon woman and then expose her to the transmutation device. OK?"

That evening, after most of the staff had been sent home, a few carefully chosen technicians were preparing the laboratory for a new experiment. The rage of the Gordon woman could be heard throughout the building as she was dragged kicking and screaming on to the platform. The brutal treatment that she was receiving interacted with the drugs she had been forced to take. When she had been securely chained in place, her husband, entered. Slowly the slender brunet approached his wife. He was filled with self-loathing for he knew the role that he would have to perform. "WHAT'S HAPPENING RALPH! WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS?"

Without answering, he began to slap her face and scream meaningless curses. Her eyes were filled with terror as the platform descended onto the device.

It was a calculated risk but Don had adjusted the pattern, less than a 1.0 percent variation. Both would be transformed, but into what? Ralph's rage was fake but his wife's stress was real enough. Could they replicate the Penner-Bixenstein effect?

The answer would be revealed soon enough for both figures had begun to change. Tiny, like children. Small even by the standards created by earlier transformations for Don was only 4' 9" tall. "Raise the platform!" Called out Don. Unlike the earlier experiments, he was safely back at the main control room some 1000' away. "And get security in as soon as the platform is disconnected!"

As he ran down the corridor toward the laboratory all that Don could think of was that they were not human! It wasn't just their small size, surely less than 20 pounds, or the green tint of their skin or the pointed ears, no. It was the WINGS that sprouted from their back! Small, almost transparent WINGS!

Part of the Penner-Bixenstein effect had been achieved for the two of them were totally absorbed in each other. They were excitedly chattering away in very high pitched voices. Had there been any question of their alien nature, their eyes would have been the final proof. No sclera at all, just golden orbs.

"Ralph?"

One of the creatures turned and in a little voice said, "Dr. Arnold?"

"Sorry again Ralph. I made what I thought would be a very small adjustment but..."

"It really is incredible. Matty's just been blown away by this but I think she'll be OK Doc. Do you think we can really fly?"

Don was nonplused and shrugged his shoulders. Later when the two of them were taken to the infirmary, Don turned to one of the technicians. "Shut it down for the night Tony. And cancel tomorrow's experiment. We have plenty of data to examine." Don was stunned. Even a small change in the code could have dramatic effects. The tree this morning and the fairy, for what else could they be, this evening. Just flicking through the available patterns would never do. I need to meet with Brian he concluded.

Don was surprised at Brian's appearance. The slender brunet was wearing a dress that effectively displayed his attractive figure and he wore makeup, just a touch. "Don, I heard. How could you do that to the Gordons? You had no right!"

Don's expression showed his guilt. "They can fly you know."

"What?"

"Hollow bones and impressive muscles in those tiny bodies."

"Theory?"

"Empirical! Just before I left they displayed their new found talent. Both were flying around the room. They seemed to be having a hell of a good time. But you're right Brian, I had no right to authorize their transformation."

Brian suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Not to change the subject," He began. "But I got a confession to make Don." He averted his gaze from his boss. "I don't know how to begin, ah do you like my outfit?"

"Yeah, Brian. I was surprised to see you dressed like this. The makeup and all."

Brian's face was beet red now. "I ah Hell! Don, I like it." His voice had died away into a faint whisper. A stunned expression covered Don's face. "It's weird but, but sexy." The normally shy scientist slowly ran his hand down the side of the dress. "Almost from the first moment that I was conscious after the change, well, I was turned on! Sexually excited. Don, I've never told anyone this...I'm a virgin. I've never in my 50 odd years ever been close to a woman. And now, well you can't get much closer." He said the last with a self-conscious smile on his face.

Don was nonplused. He just stood there with a blank expression on his face. "The reason that I'm telling you all of this boss, "Began Brian. "Well I want off the project for ah a few weeks. I'm so confused. I'm an old man in a young, attractive body and, well there's a lot for me to work through. I'd like to get out of this desolate place for awhile."

As the surprise finally wore off, Don finally said, "That shouldn't be any problem Brian, taking time off that is. I've been having second thoughts about the feasibility of discovering the grammar of this code using a direct empirical approach. Christ! I only made a 1.0 percent change in the field and look what happened."

"Random samples will never work Don, I tried to tell you that this morning. There must be over a billion possible combinations and maybe more than that. Even if we explored one combination every minute, it'd take over 1900 years to do an exhaustive test and that's my minimum estimate. I recommend that we terminate all testing until we have completed the analysis of the existing data."

"Fine, then we are agreed!" Don flipped his long red hair back with a well practiced movement of his hand. As he stood up to leave he paused. "But Brian, I can't authorize your departure from the facility."

"WHAT!" Yelled the startled brunet. "After all these years together you don't trust me?" His face grew darker as his anger mounted.

"As you said so yourself Brian, you're confused, disorientated by the transformation. It's for your own good." And with that, the red head turned his back and left.

Brian was a proud man that had given much of his considerable talents to Cedar Inc. and, more specifically to Don Arnold for most of his career. He had thought that theirs had been a special relationship based upon mutual respect and now suddenly he knew. "I'm nothing but a specimen NOW!" Snarled the slender brunette to the empty room. "How dare he do this to ME!"

Matty and Ralph made an interesting discovery that night as they lay together. They had become quite aroused as they explored each other's body. Each had a vagina, a fact that had been evident from the onset of the transformation, but as their excitement increased, both discovered a second organ, penis like, which began to emerge from the right side of the vagina cavity. After a little trial and error, they discovered they were fully capable of entering each other at the same time. It was like having sex as a man and as a woman at the same time. Indeed, as they were to discover, both organs were fully functional. With a grin on her pixy face Matty said to Ralph, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?'

"SHIT! Matty, do you think I can get pregnant?"

"Well sweetheart, having never cum as a man before, I can't be sure. But it felt like I put a gallon of something into your little valley."

"Gosh, what if we both get pregnant!"

CHAPTER 3

It had been nearly three weeks since the device had last been employed. But the activity in the data analysis section had been frantic; Dr. Anderson had reversed his position. If he couldn't leave the Death Valley facility, well he would throw himself into the work. And the new she had been driving the staff to their maximum effort ever since. The slender brunet looked up from the terminal as Don entered the room. Hostility flared in his eyes but he quickly gained control of himself and hid his true feelings. Finally with a forced smile he stood up and began walking toward his boss..

Every time Don saw his colleague he couldn't help but notice the continuing evolution in the personality. Whereas Brian had been quiet and reserved, in this new body "she" projected a gregarious charm, a self confidence in his interpersonal relations with the other staff that was almost infectious. In manner, dress and language he appeared to be at ease with nearly everyone yet somehow she still managed to project a commanding professional presence. Who knows, mused Don, the woman that Brian had become might even be sexually active now.

A fine mixture of intelligence, focus and sensuality, Don thought, as Brian worked his way through the room. Although he never took his eyes off of his goal, he managed to touch everyone in the room that crossed his path. Affectionate contacts that brought instant smiles on her co-workers' faces, a queen bee in a busy hive. Not at all like the cool, reserved Brian Anderson I knew before he mused. "Dr. Anderson." Don said with a formal nod of his head.

"Lets go to your office." Brian said. The bubble in his now more nurturing personality faded whenever he was close to Don. Now he was all business. "I know how uncomfortable crowds make you." He said with a grunt. "We can access the charts I want to show you from there."

"Sorry, I can't take the time." Don interrupted. "I just wanted you to know that I'll be gone for a few days. Seems that my brother is concerned about the operation." He paused to get and hold the brunet's gaze. "How are you doing Brian?"

"Fine!" No thanks to you, Brian thought to himself. "We should be able to resume testing in a few days Boss." And with that, Brian turned away.

Brian could feel Don's eyes on his back as he swept back through the room. Don's departure, even for a few days, was a relief for Brian had just made several significant discoveries that needed his immediate attention. In the old days, before the transformation, there would have been no thought of hiding such information from his colleague-friend, but now... The forced imprisonment had broken the contract. In the basement of his home already existed a new device. Once you begin to understand the basic principles, and he smiled to himself, no massive facility was necessary.

The whine of the motor on Howard's wheel chair jarred Don from his reverie. While his brother was only 9 years older than he, that is before Don's transformation, there had always been a great gap in their apparent age. While Don had played at his science, his older brother had worked tirelessly at building the family wealth. And the effort had been performed at great cost to Howard's body. Since last year's stroke, his brother had been confined to the wheel chair. His florid face gave full testimony to the still rampant hypertension and his thin white hair his age. Howard's willingness to expend substantial family funds on the Fairy Godmother Project was based, in no small part, upon his desire to have a new, young body. Like Don. However, he was unwilling to give up his manhood, at least not yet.

"Howie." Began Don with concern in both his voice and face. "We could safely run you through the device now."

"I've read the reports Don and well not yet. But that brings me to the real reason I needed to see you. We have a major problem developing. It's your ex-wife."

Don's mouth twisted into a grimace. "How so?"

"She's making a run to take over the business, all of it. And before you say that it's impossible, let me explain. She plans to have you declared dead. In fact, her lawyers have already gotten an injunction which has tied my hands for the time being in certain sensitive areas. Don, legally, I can't prove that you're alive! With 30 percent of a multi- billion dollar enterprise in free fall..."

"Howie, she's got no rights to my share even if I were declared dead!"

"But your daughter does! And it will be three more years before she reaches her majority.

Claudia will have full legal control until then."

"Still, it's only 30 percent."

"You're forgetting about our minor partners. Between the five of them there's another 25 percent. Combined, well it's a majority Don. And that brings me to the second point. Our partners and your EX have already concluded a tentative agreement."

"That BITCH! She knows that I'm alive. I mean, I see my daughter every chance I get. Damn!"

"And those five old men, as you always called them, were on a witch hunt anyway Don, even before your EX got involved. Too many of their assets were going into that rat-hole you've been operating in Death Valley. To make a long story short, they're planning a visit at the facility next weekend. Under the circumstances Don, we need their support. Just thought you should know."

"If you don't mind Howie, I think I'll not stay the night. I'm not sure of what I can do but they must not be allowed to terminate the operation."

"Keep me informed!"

"Of course."

"Excuse my English, but Doc why in the Hell do ya want a new floor in the laboratory, I mean, the present structure..."

With a wave of his hand, the red head dismissed him. "Just see that it's done by this weekend. The whole floor at precisely the same level as the platform. And take down those rails."

Tony was muttering to himself as he walked away. "The whole idea of the raised platform and the new rails was to avoid accidents like what happened to Gordon. I don't understand." As Tony left the office he encountered his immediate supervisor, the woman that used to be a man. "Doc Anderson?" He said, nodding his head toward the office door behind him. "The Boss wants to bring up the floor to the same level as the platform. Could you talk to her, I mean him, please. I mean, well its not safe, that's what I think."

As the unhappy technician walked away, Brian finally resolved that something had to be done. Don's treatment of the Gordons may have been only poor judgment but He had an idea of what Don was going to do, though why was a mystery. Why create an opportunity for an accident with the device?

"Problem?" Called out Don as Brian entered the room.

"More like worried. The laboratory modification Don, you seem to be inviting a problem. Don stiffened noticeably. "Its NOTHING for you to be concerned about."

"Don, your lack of perspective, your neurotic need to recover your manhood, has put the whole project in danger. Either you should terminate your direct involvement in the project or solve your attitude problem..."

Don interrupted Brian impatiently. "NEUROTIC! There's a lot more going on than your aware of Bri."

"Be patient, it might take years to solve your problem Don."

"I just wish I could be as comfortable with my change as you seem to be but that's not really the issue NOW!" Don answered curtly. He was becoming increasingly angry at Brian's tone of voice.

"Maybe you can be."

"Huh?"

"Maybe it would help to run you through the device at our baseline setting."

"WHAT!..."

"Don, you have been miserable for what, two and a half years. With a little adjustment of your attitude..."

"Brian, I want to be a man again, not a well adjusted woman!" Disgust registered on his face. "While I APPRECIATE your CONCERN, Dr. Anderson-" And the small woman glared at Brian, "You are over stepping your bounds! NOW if you have NOTHING more to contribute..."

Brian left the office none the wiser regarding Don's motives. It was clear that Don was out of control. Considering the power at Don's fingertips, the situation was turning ghastly.

Weekends were generally indistinguishable from week days at the Cedar-Death Valley Research Center but this weekend would be different. Don had essentially ordered the entire site shut down. In the guise of a holiday for his hard working employees, all were enjoying a weekend in Los Vegas at corporate expense, except the converted ones and the security personnel, after all, the visit was supposed to be a surprise. Ha!

There were twenty of them in the party that suddenly descended upon the Center. The five old, wealthy men, required an extensive staff. "Miss," George Koss was acting as the spokesperson for the group. It was obvious that he wasn't pleased to be told that a young woman who couldn't be more than 17 was in charge. "I find it totally impossible to accept the fact that a multi-million dollar facility, some of which is OUR MONEY, rests in the hands of one SO YOUNG!"

He was stunning in the golden-red dress that exactly matched his hair. There was no evidence of his normal "masculine" manner in this "chance" meeting. "OH!" He gushed in an exaggerated feminine manner. "Everyone is gone Sir. The staff is on a holiday weekend. I was just ready to leave myself when you arrived."

Freddy Grimes poked his associate in the ribs and whispered. "This is a perfect opportunity to check this place out. No "planned tour". Things look as bad here as Claudia said. What a waste of money."

"If you don't mind Miss, as owners of this place, we demand to be shown around!" "Oh! But of course." Simpered Don. His eyes widened. "You must see the laboratory." And then he whispered in a conspiratory voice. "They say that they can turn lead into gold there! Really!"

"Lead on girl." Ordered Mr. Koss.

The gaggle of men followed the gently swaying figure down the hall and into an impressively large but generally vacant room. "Some bod!" Someone commented behind her.

"Thank you!" He called out gaily over his shoulder. "But Gentlemen, you haven't seen anything yet." Feminine laughter filled his voice. "We can make ANYTHING in this room. Now if you will simply step to the rear I'll show you."

Freddy groused to the assembled group. "There's nothing here girlie."

"Now you just wait a second Sir, I think you'll change your mind when you see the bevy of beauties..."

"What?"

"Chicks, gentlemen:" Don allowed his voice to grow more harsh, maidens, women, girls, what ever you want to call them." He continued to talk even after he has triggered the release of the platform. "Birds, skirts, babes, cunts the labels are endless!" Even as she spoke, the transformation was in progress. Several pitched over while others simply sat down. George Koss somehow remained standing as the transformation progressed. On cue, the security personnel arrived. The sweet, feminine charm has vanished from his voice and manner. "Take them to the holding cells down stairs. One to a room! Harry?"

"Yes Dr. Arnold?" His security chief looked alarmed.

"They're to remain under CONSTANT observation until the choppers arrive. Jake, order the aircraft in NOW!"

"Howie?" Don's voice revealed his excitement. "I just wanted you to know that I've got a short term solution to our problem. Right! Two can play that game. Oh God no! I didn't kill them. I just had them transformed into women...Yeah! all of them. Just declare them dead like Claudia is trying to do to me. Yeah! It could take years to get this straightened out. Yes, yes, I didn't know that. Sorry Howie, I'll get back to you later. I'm going to join our converts. The Laguna Beach facility, that's right. Keep them locked up? No way. I'll set them free in swim suits. Ha! You want to see Koss in a swim suit? Thanks, we'll talk later. Bye!" Don hung up the phone and went to his helicopter for the short ride to Laguna.

Under the current circumstances, the Laguna Beach facility was ideal for the handling of the large group of unwilling subjects. Although the compound itself was both smaller and much closer to civilization, only three miles from the Pacific Coast Highway, the fact that most of Don's staff were now located at the Cedar-Death Valley plant meant that there were ample accommodations for the twenty "newies". Indeed, for the first several days, while they were "getting acquainted" with their new bodies, Don wanted them isolated, especially from each other. To be transformed, suddenly, into a young person of the opposite sex was one thing. But to "continue" to be that way, day-after-day, alone without social support, a "burning-in" of the reality of the transformation, concluded Don, was essential. They must know that this change was no trick, no drug induced illusion but a total and potentially permanent alteration of their physical aspect. Once Don was sure that this "lesson" had been learned, he had hoped to meet with each in turn to resolve their individual destinies. In some cases, that process might take several weeks. Unfortunately, Don's plan was coming apart at the seams. Time was something he was not going to be given enough of...his administrative staff at the Cedar-Death Valley site were being swamped by requests-no demands from civil authorities family members business associates regarding the disposition of the "missing party". The level of the pressure was substantially higher than even Don had expected. Kidnaping, of course, was a serious offense. The authorities were demanding to be admitted to the Cedar-Death Valley facility. In spite of the dangers inherent in such an action, he authorized full and free access. Thank God, he thought, most of the staff had been in Los Vegas. And the staff that had participated in the removal of the "clients" were here in Laguna. It was up to Brian to keep the hounds away from the Laguna Beach Facility, at least for a few days.

Don's ill conceived entrapment of the party of twenty merely confirmed Brian's assessment of the situation. Don's compulsion to find a solution for his situation, a need that seemed to escalate rather than decline with time, had clouded his judgment. He was no longer fit to direct a scientific study of this phenomenon. Indeed, his lack of objectivity as reflected in the insane events of the last twenty four hours threatened the whole enterprise. If, or rather when, the real purpose of the Cedar-Death Valley facility became known...When the public became aware of what had been happening...Brian decided that it was time to leave. His continued affiliation with the Cedar-Death Valley facility would serve no useful purpose and his personal contract with Dr. Donald Arnold was clearly at an end.

The slender brunet was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and matching work shirt. His long dark, hair spilled across his shoulders like a cape. This casual disarray accentuated rather than distracted from the youthful features unmarked by makeup. The child, for "she" looked no more than 17 years old, and her blue sun bleached Toyota was waved through the blockade set up by the local police, without incident. As Brian turned his car toward the interstate and freedom, the muscles on his small, feminine body finally began to relax. He had one last glimpse of the site of his transformation from the rear-view mirror but his mind was already focused upon the future.

Chapter 4

Harry Beckman, chief of security at the Cedar-Death Valley Research Center, was on the phone with his boss. "Dr. Arnold? I don't know how to say this...Dr. Anderson's gone. No, he just split. Yes, his car too. Dr. Arnold. We got every kind of law enforcement here you can imagine. And the media..." His voice trailed off, anguish was evident in the man's voice. "Boss I don't have any control over the facility now. Those bastards from the FBI...they're in everybody's face...Shit! I'll talk to you later if I can...Tony just told me the S.O.B.s have broken into the Translation Chamber."

Special Agent Paul Williams was a tall, powerfully built black man. As he entered the chamber, his partner, already standing in the middle of the empty space said, "So what's the big deal? Those Stoops out there acted like this was the Holy-of-Holy. I mean, there's nothing here!" His voice range harshly in the chamber.

Special Agent Williams hadn't come this far in an agency that was less than sympathetic with affirmative action by being casual. Unlike his partner he had already spotted several interesting features of this laboratory. The slight change in the reflections off the floor caught his eye. The rear of the room was...and he was still assessing this fact as he crossed on to the now lowered platform. "Something's not right here." He said as he pointed down toward the floor.

Even as he reached down to touch the surface with his bare hands his partner cautioned him. "Maybe we should wait until some of the lab boys get here?"

At the instant Paul touched the surface, he felt a queer, though not painful, sensation pass through his body. "OOPS!" He exclaimed.

At the sound of his partners voice, the older man jerked about, "OOPS?" He echoed.

"OOPS what?"

His eyes grew big as he watched the rapid transformation of his powerfully built partner into a slender brunet. "Something's wrong Jake!" Mewed the small female. "Damn! Something's terribly wrong!" The child was staring at the slender, white hand that was squeezing one small but well defined breast.

His partner froze in position. Ignoring the plaintive cries, he pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Herman, this is Blake! Contact Washington!" Then in a slow, measured voice he continued, "Seal this place off from EVERYONE! NOW!" He listened for a few moments and then added. "Yes, National Security. They'll need to assemble the best damn team they can find. And damn it get the civilians off this site! Of course! Especially the MEDIA!"

George Koss, 73 years old, was wealthy by all standards, except in health. A bad heart, liver and advanced arthritis, ensured that he was constantly aware of his own mortality, was staring, with rapt fascination, at the young woman in the mirror. She mimicked perfectly his every movement. Tight fitting white short-shorts hung desperately low on her slender hips. The gap between the pants and the vivid pink halter top which barely covered her erect and pointy tits, was accentuated by a most charming navel. He turned so as to be able to look over his shoulder. As nice a rear-end as he had ever seen, he mused. And the legs...

At that moment, the door to his room was opened. Startled, his generous brown eyes widened as he turned to face his unexpected visitor. A young man, obviously one of the employees by his uniform, greeted him nervously. "Dr. Arnold has instructed me to tell you that you are free to go. Ah-" He paused. "If you wish, there will be a bus that will take you and the rest of your group into town Laguna Beach. We'll be unable to return you directly to Cedar-Death Valley Sir..."

"George Ross is the name!" Interrupted the slender girl. "Damn it! MR. GEORGE ROSS! And I want to KNOW WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!" He ended in a shriek. But the young man had already fled the room. George's new, young body had plenty of vocal power. A fact that he-she displayed more than adequately, but as he stepped out in to the hallway, there was nobody there. At last, quietly, he began his hurried walk to freedom.

Dr. Donald Arnold watched from his office high above the parking area at the side of the building as the girls, all 20 of them, assembled by the bus. Their shrill voices cut the clear marine air like a flock of seagulls descending upon a feast. Twenty sets of white shorts and pink halters, scurrying around frantically was almost comical. And then, much to Don's surprise, a sense of order was quickly restored. The girl in the middle must be Koss, Don muttered to himself. The masters were identified and their underlings formed into protective clots around their respective leaders. In a few moments, the last of this gaggle entered the waiting bus. Now standing alone, her small face turned up toward the window where Don stood watching, the small woman made a defiant gesture: she gave him the finger. How ironic, thought Don. Fuck you indeed!

The Laguna Beach facility was closed down on his orders as it had never been before. In a few minutes, Don would be completely alone. Should he attempt to return to the Cedar- Death Valley facility or simply wait here until...What?

Brian Anderson reached Las Vegas without incident. His car, which he perceived had became a liability (he had to assume that the authorities were or would be looking for him), was abandoned near the bus station. But he had no plans to use the bus. In fact, Las Vegas was the perfect hide-out for a young, attractive woman who wanted to disappear for awhile.

He traveled light, for now. In a small bag he carried a change of clothing and something else, something special. A few minutes shopping, the brunet had bought everything that she would need for her first of several transformations. In a run down motel just off the strip, she cut and colored her hair a bright red. It took Brian at least eight attempts before he had successfully created the look that he wanted with the makeup, loose but naive. More important, it made him look younger, if that were possible. And then the clothes. In spite of the fact that he had been a female for several weeks, he had yet to seriously experiment with high heels. Walking in them, especially with the tight skirt which restricted his stride in an unfamiliar fashion, was difficult. Worse, as he watched himself in the mirror, the image he projected was decidedly unfeminine.

That evening, fully dressed and made up, Brian left the safety of the room to cruise the strip. With his heart in his throat and full knowledge that at any moment he could be faced with disaster, he began his search. Good looks, if not feminine grace, and a generous application of money eventually led Brian to the man he wanted.

Fully conscious for the first time just how vulnerable a woman can be especially if that woman looked like a girl child runaway, Brian entered the small shop at the end of a side street, ironically it was but a few feet from the room he had exited long hours before. "Mr. Smith," he said after wetting his lips grown dry from nervousness.

The grizzled man nodded his head but said nothing. A tough character, his eyes focused briefly upon Brian's cleavage and then slid slowly down the figure before returning to Brian's face. It was obvious he liked what he saw. Finally, a small smile flickered across his face. "How can I do ya babe?"

"I was told that you might be able to help me. I need new identification papers." He squinted at the driver's license. Obviously this child was not the middle aged man pictured. "Hump Brian Anderson, where ya get it?" He grunted. "Old Man?"

"Yeah! My old man. Pretty bad know. Had to get away from home. Any-how the bastard..."

"Cool-it Kid. This ain't no charity no how. Run away? OK. You want to be say 21? Maybe so you can work in a club? OK? I can do it. No problem! But its going to cost ya. What-you-got besides that pussy?"

"Twenty bucks mister?"

"Kid we're talking color pictures, talking lamination, we're talking lots of trouble know? Three hundred and fifty bucks and something on the side if ya get my message." He was now looking unabashedly at her tits.

"When?"

"Tonight I take your picture, tomorrow morning..."

"Done!"

"Sit here!" He ordered.

Within a few seconds he had taken Brian's picture, finding time and opportunity to slide his hand across Brian's ass and then tweaking "her" right breast as he lined "her" up with a neutral back-screen. Brian had never been touched before in this fashion, neither as a man, nor certainly, as a woman. He felt violated, threatened and yet, surprisingly, titillated. Being a sex object was a novel experience but something he would have to learn to live with.

It was all an act, a part to play, rationalized Brian. Having watched countless women control and manipulate men, Brian had some idea of what to do but still his heart was hammering with anxiety when he reached up and let his finger tips slide down the side of the man's face, his nails digging ever so slightly into the man's flesh.

"Yeah!" Growled Mr. Smith. "What's your name honey?"

"Betty. Betty Marie Smith." He grinned. If it was good enough for him, it would do me just fine.

"Well Ms. Smith, if you can make me real happy, ya know, I can make you a couple of more documents. Useful things, ya know, like the state health certificates the clubs require."

But even as the man was speaking, his hand, now sliding down Brian's back first caught and then pulled at the zipper of Brian's dress. The sound of the zipper, the sudden reduction in the tension of the fabric across his back and then chest, and finally the waft of cool night air on his now exposed back released a knot of anticipation flavored with fear. The stranger's mouth had worked its way through the protective mantle of hair and he nuzzled wetly into Brian's ear. "Let's see what I'm getting doll face."

Brian had no idea what to do no idea of exactly what was required of him, for he still was thinking exactly like a man. But his passivity born of ignorance and his extraordinary body were more than adequate, for as the clinging nylon dress fell away, as the man surveyed the revealed figure both with his eyes and hands, as his fingers lightly flicked over the now exposed nipples grown hard in the cool air, the man's cock had become painfully aroused he groaned, "Baby baby Oh! Nice!"

As his dress and panties formed a nylon pool about his feet, Brian felt the stubble from the man's cheek against his own. Then on his chest, belly, and, finally, between his thighs the man's face was now centered upon Brian's groin. Only the top of Smith's head was visible. And then Brian lost conscious control as a wet, insistent tongue searched for and found his sweet spot. A fire sprung up from deep inside. Focused at first on the clit but then passion's flame quickly spread to his vaginal lips, the crack of his ass, the tips of his nipples, even eventually to his toes.

As the wild fire spread, a deeper, more insistent need began to well up in Brian's cunt. A need he had never felt before, an emptiness that demanded filling. Without plan, indeed without conscious awareness, Brian grabbed the rock-hard cock and guided it to the hungry opening between his legs as his own legs melted and he flowed to the floor. With the man above him now, between his legs, Brian felt so small and weak, helpless!

With a growl of animal passion, the man threw his full weight upon him, driving the hard hot shaft deeply inside. Now Brian KNEW terror! He would be Ripped-IN-TWO! But the hungry mouth between his legs HIS PUSSY was not so easily overcome. In an instant it greedily guzzled the shaft of flesh. Like an eruption of a volcano played backwards for instead of spewing out, Brian's now violent contractions were drawing the man's member ever deeper into the center of the fire. NO FEAR NOW! Brian suddenly understood, whatever happened from now on, Brian knew that it was him, Brian Anderson, and not this man nor his prick, that was the center of the universe. This man served HIS Brian's body and not the other way around!

They were now in the man's bedroom. His voice floated over to Brian in the dark, quiet of the room. The smell of spent passion filled the air. "Mike."

"Huh?"

"My names' Mike. First time?"

"Huh?"

"Thought so. If you want..." his voice was soft now, gentle. "Betty? You stay here, ya know, until..."

"Thanks Mike. Can't. People, bad people are looking for me. No, don't even offer. They'd hurt you. But we can be friends, if you know what I mean. Mike, I need a friend right now. Just if things get bad, then you get out of my face no questions no arguments. You understand Mike?"

Chapter 5

Some where, in a safe house just outside of D.C., George Russ was lying on his back, buck naked. His long, rich hair spayed out around him while his fine small hands formed sea shell cups beside each of his tiny, almost elfin ears. The young man advancing upon him, his rigid member pointed at George's vagina, groaned audibly as he slid between her wide spread legs. The stud would have probably shit-a-brick, thought George, if he knew exactly who or rather what he was drooling over. The transient thoughts of the former old man abruptly terminated when the engorged penis made its entry into his-her body. For a moment it was painful, so large the organ and so violent the entry. But George's' new body seemed to be infinitely flexible. And then his own button was pushed. George Russ consciously tried to avoid cuming at that instant. When he suddenly realized what he was doing, an old habit from his male existence, he giggled out loud. Hell he could cum and cum and cum without limit. Released from his self imposed restraint, he started to climax and climax and climax. He yelled until his voice was nearly gone.

Later, while the stud was recovering (something George no longer needed to do), the old man began once again to think about the meaning of it all. The old saying, too bad youth was wasted on the young was absolutely true. To really enjoy this young, vibrant body, one had to have been old and used-up, tired and in pain. So what if clutching a broad shouldered, sometimes hairy bod wasn't exactly one's cup of tea, it sure beats the alternative.

Without warning the man grabbed George from behind. "No..." he started to say. But as his hard member forced its way in, George thought, what the hell, why the fuck not! Later, much later, George picked at the scattered threads of his thoughts. The Feds had him and all of the other "victims" of Don Arnold safely hidden away. It seems that someone had thrown the Bill of Rights away, least ways, for all practical purposes, all the "boys" had vanished from the face of the earth. Even during Nam, he mused, it never got this bad. Something nasty was at work. His train of thought was again interrupted...that damn stud was sucking on one of his toes. Geeze, the boy got some set of hormones.

If anything, mused Dr. Arnold, the Cedar-Death Valley Research Center was busier now after the Feds had taken over than before, though most of the work force was new. Don was pretty much cut out of the control loop. His residence at the site bordered on house arrest. But in spite of the loss of authority, the absence of Brian Anderson and the ability to determine each phase of the activity, he had been impressed by some, if not all, of the scientists who had been brought on line. Physicists, world class researchers, a regular who's who of American science, at least. Although he would probably be the last to admit it, Don Arnold welcomed the opportunity to hand over the many responsibilities of the project. Brian was right, he had realized too late. He had been too close to be objective. Changing the instructions of the transformation mechanism was far less important then discovering the more fundamental principles of its operation.

Understanding and not immediate results for a limited need was what was needed at this time. If properly controlled, one could imagine the end of poverty, limitless food, energy hell, some version of immortality. God only knows what sugar plums might be dancing in the head of the Defense establishment. But at least, none of it was Don's responsibility any longer.

Oh yes! And then there was the shrink. The Feds saw him as a security risk, to be sure. When they put the National Security curtain over the whole operation, well they were still stuck with this strange, sexy creature that wanted nothing more than to be middle- aged man again. Some bright paper pusher in Washington, probably a member of the American Psychological Association, decided that Dr. Donald Arnold needed to be fixed. Enter thus Dr. Linda Adams.

"Now Debra!" Interrupted Dr. Adams. Don cringed at the name but the woman would not suffer his maintenance of even a semblance of his manhood. "I will NOT take NO for an answer. You are in a state of denial that has gone on far too long to be healthy. Think of your former life as but a history that properly belongs to someone else." She said the last with a sound of self satisfaction creeping into her voice. "Under the circumstances, your fixation on this male history is neurotic and destructive. Think of yourself as female. When you look at a mirror, say to yourself, How lucky I am to be a woman! And beautiful and young!"

Don's frustration was almost overwhelming. The woman was so pig headed. She never really heard anything that he said, except maybe, to redirect his innocent replies toward her own pre-defined ends. In all fairness, Don was convinced that Dr. Adams was a female chauvinist of the first magnitude. That she took an unhealthy delight in the destruction of his male personality. "Dr. Adams?" Mumbled Don.

"Yes Debra. You want to go. OK! Oh yes," she said as if trying to remember something.

"Debra, I've taken the liberty too many of your clothes are, ah let us say TOO masculine. I've had all of them" her lips literally curled into a snarl when she said, "eliminated! You will find some beautiful frocks in their place. Now don't forget, sweetheart, to remember every chance you get just HOW LUCKY YOU ARE TO BE FEMALE!"

Dr. Linda Adams' mind was at peace as her patient left the office. But deep down in her unconscious lurked a swirl of excitement, for this was not just another patient. The fact was all too evident in her dreams. The slight creature with the strawberry blond hair, whimsical lips and the personality of a male just waiting to be dominated, often appeared, naked in her vulnerability. Linda's own unresolved conflict with male authority, in part a reaction to her overly dominant father lay, unconsciously, at the center of her motive structure. She had seen pictures of this changeling as his male self. His strong, masculine face had projected the same aura of power that was so so much like her own Daddy. Linda Adams had never forgiven her father for leaving her and mom. It was as if he had rejected HER. Selfish men! They took their pleasure and then left the women to suffer through life alone. If only men could carry the burden, the responsibility for what sex and love produced. No Don Arnold was not JUST a patient he was an opportunity to wreak symbolic revenge upon the oppressors. Of course, she was not conscious of any of this. Heaven forbid! She was a professional!

Hamilton Thorn was a genius, a fact that had gone unrecognized for nearly thirty years. Ham had become one of the faceless bureaucrats in the National Bureau Standards shortly after publishing his dissertation on Quantum Topology, a breakthrough that, prior to the moment that he had first seen the data from the errant Cedar-Death Valley Research Center, had absolutely no practical application. Worse yet, a theory, his numerous critics had offered, that was completely untestable, in other words, meaningless! Enough said! Only he could untangle the mystery left behind by the Fairy.

It was through the good offices of General Jack Walker that he had even heard of the amazing data and it was through his sister, Mrs. J. Walker, that his appointment was made. But thirty years of obscurity had left their mark on Ham. A trace of madness, well hidden below the surface, was now in full bloom. No one, but no one knew of the full potential of this process. It promised godhood! On the surface, Ham was but one of a number of lackeys now laboring in the laboratories at Cedar-Death Valley, but he had no desire to hand the ultimate control of this discovery to the politicos or the military or, for that matter, anyone!

Ham was developing two records. One, the official record, would indicate a "promise" of future findings of some considerable value. Something to hold out to his superiors, something to encourage their continued support AND to misdirect the efforts of his colleagues. No minor matter, the latter, for the government effort had brought in some excellent minds. Fortunately for Ham, none were familiar with his work or even a hint of the real solution. And the second, carefully crafted to ride safely within the Laboratory's central computing system, literally embedded in the security subsystem, the real record. Not just a list of facts and calculations, but a working program that would, eventually, allow Ham to control the hidden NETWORK OF THE FAIRY!

But there were unknowns to deal with, other than the process itself, of course. Although Dr. Donald Arnold didn't strike Ham as a mental giant, he knew more about the process (from the inside-out you might say) than (almost?) anyone else. Having picked the man- turned woman's brain exhaustively when he first arrived, Ham felt like there was little more to gain. Yet the metamorph posed a certain danger. The potential that he might see through the ruse that Hamilton had created for the other researchers for one. Some of the data that Ham had "manipulated" had originally been collected by the good doctor turned fairy princess. If caught in a lie, at least too early...

He hadn't been able to isolate Arnold, but with the help of that twit psychologist, he might keep the transexed man sufficiently occupied. Yes, even psychologists have their uses sometimes. The real danger was Dr. Brian Anderson, partly because the man was, as yet, an unknown. What did he know? The fact that he had fled suggested that he too might have ambitions.

It had been over a month since Ham had arrived on site; five weeks then since Anderson had disappeared. The FBI's failure to solve this mystery should soon be corrected. Seems aunt Jenny's sister-in-law knows someone who knows someone. Anyway, as hard as it was to believe, the Mob had some history with this process. Yes the Mob. The Mob's got an idea, if the price is right, on where or how to find the missing Dr. Anderson! Hope so, thought Ham.

Things had not worked out at all as Brian had expected. And some of it was quite disturbing indeed. As he finished drying himself off, he looked around for the scented body powder. Mike Simms, A.K. "Smith", had proven to be a wonderful man. OK. A crook, a con, a thief, but a little one in a city with more than its share of real nasties. His neck and cheeks colored reflexively as he thought, I'm in love with him. The idea of him, Brian Anderson, being in love with anyone, especially a man was, well, impossible. But as Betty...the new thought caused his groin to tingle just a little.

Applying his make up took his full concentration. He was getting good at it, but the task was far from automatic. Long gone was the short red hair. Fact was, it was a full time job keeping it short. Within a day of being cut, it would all grow out. And frankly, his "natural" color, if there was anything natural about this body, was just perfect. As he finished his face, he was always startled by how beautiful she was, he let out an audible sigh. What was really amazing was that sometimes he completely forgot that he was he. Sometimes it seemed like he was, well, she and always had been Betty. It wasn't as if he had chosen to be a woman or, for that matter, had ever wanted to be a woman. But he was becoming her...Betty. If he gave up HIS identity, he wanted it to be an act of voluntary choice. It was like she was on the wings, waiting, somewhat impatiently, for him to get out of the way. Brian liked Betty a great deal more than Betty seemed to like Brian, and that was a disturbing fact.

As he slipped his bra around and then over his breasts and pulled on the strap, his face was the picture of concentration. He had one real advantage over so called real women. While they practiced their art of seduction, they were always limited. They had to guess what it was that men found to be sexy. As a man, Brian didn't have to guess he knew exactly from the inside out. His breasts were fine, well better than fine, fantastic but with a little help from some pads properly placed here and here-. "Ah!" He said out loud.

"Now this WILL get their attention!"

After all that effort, putting on the dress that he wore as a cocktail waitress at the El Cortez, seemed more as an after thought. Now as "Betty" turned to leave, the sound of taffeta completed a complex melody with the swish of nylons and the click of her high heels provided the percussion. At that moment, there was only Betty. Beautiful, fantastic Betty.

He was a little rat face snitch. A coward. No! Worse! He had to be something worse. Why didn't Betty tell me that it was THEM. His hands were a twitchy as he left the back of the casino and headed down the dark alley. Why would THEY want HER. No! He didn't want to know. He hadn't survived this long by crossing people like Vinnie. And then for no reason he found himself crying like some baby or something.

She was too good for me, he rationalized. I'm just ordinary. She's a princess. Somehow he was able to gulp back the self-pity. Two doors down he entered the back of a bar and headed for the phone in the can.

God Be there! He said silently. Please!

"Mike!" Betty chimed as soon as she heard his voice. "What's wrong? You sound..."

"Shut up and listen. What ever you do DON'T go to the casino."

"They're there? The FBI?"

"The what! Betty, whatever they may be, FBI they ain't! FBI? Fuck woman, you better hope that the FBI are coming 'cause these creeps..."

Suddenly, a big-ugly grabbed the phone from Mike and put it to his ear. "Mike. Mike you there?" Her voice took on a hysterical tone.

"You's stay right there little lady." And then the brute slammed Mike's head against the pay phone mounted against the wall. "If ya sees what I mean."

The sound of hysterical screams sliced out from the receiver and then were suddenly gone. Betty had cut the connection.

Chapter 6

Linda Adams was both surprised and delighted when Dr. Thorn expressed interest in her work with Don Arnold. Most of the technical staff at the Cedar-Death Valley site and especially the "hard-science" types treated the psychologists there well rather poorly. And he had such interesting ideas. She had kidded him that maybe he was really a Psychologist at heart.

Anyhow, he had given her some Zybertal, a new and highly experimental drug that, it was reported, suppressed conscious voluntary behavior. How in the hell a mathematician could get a hold of such a item was completely beyond her. Of course, ethically she couldn't use it unless she could get an MD. to cooperate. Of course she wouldn't do that. After all, the paperwork alone...

Such a drug, when coupled with hypnosis, could work wonders though. I mean absolute WONDERS. Her brow scrunched into a frown, Dr. Thorn really was supportive. It'd be a shame, well, to spurn his attention. In her professional heart, she knew that it would be wrong to use the Zybertal on poor Debra. Absolutely wrong!

As she was walking across the compound, her little angel appeared. The sweet child saw her and attempted to evade, but alas, too late. Her patient was wearing a scruffy sweatshirt and loose fitting jeans of uncertain origin. A clear violation of Dr. Adams instructions. "Dear!" called out the good psychologist. Her mind was still running through the debate as she frustrated the transexual's attempt to escape. Such a drug would magnify her power over the spiteful child a hundred fold at least. How could she NOT! "Dear!" she called again, her voice all full of sugar. "Now come with me." She said as she looped one arm around the redhead's slender shoulders. "We've just got to talk!"

Talk they did, after forcing poor Debra to drink a particularly bitter tea. He did everything but spill the horrible concoction on the floor. Under her watchful eye he eventually gulped it down. "Thank you for this little chat." He said sarcastically, " But I've got to go. Round table at 2:00 you know."

He never made it to the door, of course. Might have given him too much, she thought. But after he finished throwing up, he became wonderfully cooperative. First there was the hypnotic session: something she had not been able to do with him before. The post- hypnotic worked perfectly. "How many angels can fit on the head of a pin." She said. And the child's eyes crossed momentarily before closing. "Deep, deep asleep." She ordered.

And then the instructions began.

The process went on for hours. Finally when Dr. Adams had accomplished all that she wanted, at least for this session, she said. "You will remember NOTHING of what happened this afternoon. But when you hear the phrase: How many angels can fit on the head of a pin...you will fall into this delightfully restive sleep Do you understand my child? Fine, now go."

Poor Don was bewildered as he left Dr. Adams' office. Although it seemed that he had been there but for a few minutes, the sun had shifted from it's high position in the sky and even now sought to hide behind the Funeral Mountains.

His concern for the gap in his memory faded as he slipped into the hot bath. Easing down into the white mountains of bubbles with their pungent flowery odor filling the whole compartment his eyes began to close in lazy anticipation "WHAT!" He exclaimed as he jerked up right in the tub. A quick shower, usually when he arose in the morning, was more his style...and bubble bath? The sweet smell would cling to him..."What in the Hell?" He again groaned audibly. THAT woman, he thought. Somehow THIS is her doing.

But as he struggled to get out of the tub, his limbs became rubbery and non- responsive. "SHIT! AND DAMN HER ASS!" He yelled out, to no one of course but himself. And finally he gave in to the compulsion.

He wasn't at all surprised when, after he was finally allowed to terminate his bath, he found himself painting his nails. Rather than fighting it, he observed, dispassionately, the many little but time consuming labors required to bring his body into full feminine perfection.

It couldn't be long now he thought, as he finished adjusting his silk dress. He gingerly lifted the hem of the skirt to check one last time on his nylons before climbing into his heels. He had worn heels before, but never anything quite so high. It took some concentration to walk without stumbling but by the third tour around the apartment, he had it down.

Movement. Every little behavior was feminine. And try as he might, Don just couldn't stop it. God knows he tried. How could she do this to me?

And the woman in the mirror was really quite extraordinary, he thought. She had always been there for the last almost three years. But now fully revealed and to what purpose does she appear now on this night? What is that cunt up to?

The struggle between the emerging personality of Betty and the well established persona of Brian was sharp but, fortunately, brief. Betty was traumatized by the brutal drama that had been played out for her benefit, indeed, it had shocked her into a stupor. But Brian was free to act and act he did.

I got to get out of here now! It took less than 30 seconds to stuff a few things into his bag. He already had the car keys in hand and was ready to run for the car when he paused. They knew what "she" looks like. Where "she" was hell, even what "she" was driving. The brief, revealing costume, fine for the casino, would never do for...Betty would standout in almost any crowd and there are only a few roads that connect Las Vegas with the rest of the world. Brian was trapped, unless...

He opened the small wooden case that he had carried every since he had left the research center. There, inside, were three small glass beads. Each had been taken from the same material that had been used in the Translation Platform. Each, in theory, could evoke, in limited fashion, the same process...they could trigger the enormously powerful Fairy Network. But what would they produce? Unknown.

With a pair of tweezers, Brian tried to extract one of these beads from the case. In spite of the fact that he had not actually touched the material, he was suddenly aware that it was acting upon his body. Somehow the metal tweezers allowed the force to be conducted, like electricity it passed through the steel. Not quite what he had planned on, he dropped his grip on the fantastic marble. "I don't have time for THIS! NOT NOW! NOT HERE!" He groaned and flopped against the mobile home's metal siding.

It took nearly 70 seconds for the change to run to completion, Logical Brian had timed it. As she, and she was stills he, struggled to her feet, he unsnapped the now inadequate bra. It was it was cutting him in two. Over all this body was bigger, height had increase but these boobs! It looked like he had gone to a plastic surgeon and asked to have the super deluxe model. Unzipping the much too small costume, he re-enter Mike's trailer to find some alternative covering.

Startled by the face that reflected back. The hair was still long and brown, but instead of straight, it was a mass of curls, light, honey-brown curls. The face was rounder and the eyes, green. Having slipped into one of Mike's sweat suits, Brian was ready to go. "OK! Let them look for Betty. I'll be Bertha." The creature in the mirror grabbed her big tits and sang out to the empty room, "Big Bertha!"

Brian didn't need it now, but what the hay, it might provide some comic relief and maybe, just maybe it might save Mike's life. Now wearing a pair of rubber gloves, which seemed to do the trick, he extracted another of his magic marbles from the box. He shoved this little jewel into a small gap in the trailer's metal siding. If he was correct, the whole trailer would become an extension of the transformation field embedded within the tiny sphere. It'd probably be wildly erratic but it would sure give the opposition, who ever they are, some pause. Indeed, they might never figure out how he did it.

Brian left the car setting in the drive and the lights on in the trailer. With the door locked shut, it looked all the world like little Betty was there for the taking. Too bad he couldn't stay for the show. A long walk across the desert to a truck stop on the old road. A lift and then, well it was time to return to the fight. God I hope Mike's OK, he thought as he slipped into the darkness, for Betty wasn't gone, just temporally set aside. Moments after Brian disappeared, car lights suddenly bathed the trailer.

Vinnie remained in the Lincoln as his crew of thugs descended upon the trailer. Less than two years ago he had been involved in a similar episode, back in LA. Naw, too dangerous. One false step and you could really get fucked-up. Let the boys take the risk, that's what they get paid for, he thought. He knew that two of them would work their way around to the back of the trailer, just in case can't be too careful, while two more of his boys held their ground at the front. Four men to retrieve one tiny, little chick. Of course, she wasn't all that she "seemed" to be. Vinnie knew exactly who and what the cunt really was. Too bad Mikie got terminated. It would've been fun to tell'm exactly what he had been screwing. Vinnie's shrill, unpleasant laugh rang out in the still desert air.

Gus started to reach out for the door knob but them paused, the damn, cheap construction of the door was just too much temptation. He raised his foot and with one explosive blow kicked it open. The thick rubber soles of his boot insulated him from the latent power that coursed through the metal. Swiftly both he and Hal stepped into the trailer. Moving rapidly, even gracefully, Hal turned right toward the front of the unit and Gus, toward the back.

Time seemed to stand still for Vinnie. After the door had been kicked in, all was quiet. Finally he got out of the car and moved toward the trailer. Moments later he was joined by Bruce and Chuck coming back from the rear of the unit. "Go on, help'm out." Vinnie was not about to go inside until he knew it was safe.

From the inside of the trailer, Gus called out. "Boss. Ain't nobody home but us chickens."

"Shit!" Muttered Vinnie. "Well she couldn't have gotten far." Finally he poked his head inside. "You and Hal take the 4-wheel drive and check out the whole area. "Chuck, you and Bruce, check every street in the area. Now where in the hell is the phone?"

As soon as he had his partner on the phone, he leaned back to rest against the door frame. "Joey," he said, oblivious at first of the mild prickling sensation for his jacket provided substantial insulation from the full effects of the Transformational Field. "Yea, the broad's not here. Naw. There's no place for her to hide. OK All right. I'll check it out. Anything big enough for a mouse." He hung up the phone and walked away from the door. The prickling sensation attenuated but did not come to a complete cessation.. "Move your butts, times a-wasting." He ordered his boys out of the trailer. "And remember assholes-" He called after them. "We want her alive more or less." He chuckled.

He slouched through the unit looking for anything amiss. He felt kind a funny, like maybe a flu coming on. His joints were bothering him a little, his stomach was just a little flippy. Must have been those scallops...As he bent over to check out the bed, he felt an unfamiliar tug on his chest. TITTIES! His hands felt little tits under his jacket His face broke out in a sweat as he ripped open the front of his shirt. "OH My GOD!" He exclaimed. Little bitty tits with great big, dark, long nipples like you would never see on a man.

He sat there on the floor for the longest time. No! Not like what happened to those guys in Cleveland! God NO! Not ME! Finally he pulled himself up. In the mirror there was HIS face. Thank God. And a quick check in his pants confirmed that he was still intact where it counted. "How in the Hell did she pull this off?" He croaked out loud. What ever was going on, Vinnie knew that he had had one very close call.

Call it just bad luck or maybe the running out of luck, Vinnie would have understood that, he was a gambler, but as he left the trailer, almost home free, he pulled the door shut behind him. The moment that his bare hand made contact with the metal door knob, the transformation process was engaged without attenuation. Indeed, the field distortion created by the metal trailer had a rather unusual effect.

Chapter 7

A fly! A common house fly appeared on the Fairy Translation device. The event was missed by all, except Ham. You had to know when and where to look. And after exactly 5 seconds, it was gone. Oh yes, the electromagnetic spectrum screamed as if something had happened and there wasn't a technician on shift that didn't know that an "event" had occurred. But none knew what or why except Ham. He was terribly pleased with himself.

One more incident to miss-direct their attention. More important, his program WORKED! He could have as easily created a mountain of gold as this tiny fly. But then the gold would have been detected on the cameras which kept constant vigil. No the fly, in all of its biological complexity was every bit the challenge and more than a pile of useless gold and it fell just outside the resolution of these tireless watch dogs. And this was but the beginning of a really great night, Ham was going to discover when he returned to his apartment.

"Excuse me!" he said, a little startled by the figure in the shadows by his door. "Aren't you..?" It was Dr. Donald Arnold. Obviously, it was him, concluded Ham. But the transsexual had never looked quite so...seductive. "Is there something I can do for you?" The woman, for in all of her perfect, this could ONLY BE A WOMAN no trace of the masculine personality was evident, dropped her eyes in embarrassment. "Dr. Adams," She began, in a small voice shaded by tremors . "I was to give you this..." and she held out an envelope. "She said that you would know what to do." Her voice faltered.

The note was in Dr. Adams own hand writing. Basically it said thank you in that long winded style the woman had. The drug had worked miracles, see for yourself. And then here was the best part: this child, as Dr. Adams referred to Don Arnold, needed to make the transition into full womanhood. She couldn't think of a more perfect person to perform the initiation. A smile spread across Ham's face as he looked away from the note to this picture of perfect feminine beauty, now standing quietly, head bowed, her hands clasped in front of her. A GIFT! And then the P.S. "Dear Dr. Thorn. Debra is not yet fully accepting of her new role. If she should give you any problem, just say the following: How many angels can dance on the head of a pin. This is a simple post- hypnotic suggestion. I am confident that a man of your intelligence will be able to work wonders with her. Again, Thank you for all that you have done. Your servant, Linda A." Servant indeed. In a while, I'll have the whole world at my beck and call. But then this does seem like a good way to practice my impending Godhood yes it does.

"Come here Don." He ordered. A malicious smile spread over his face. He was going to take this sexy woman tonight but he wasn't going to give the man the pretense of being female. No, he would rub his face in the truth. "No! Closer! Closer still." When finally she was pressing her lush breasts against his chest he said, "I want you to suck my cock as if it were the most precious, wonderful thing in the world, which it is. And while your doing this I want you to imagine yourself as the male you were, also doing this to me right now right here."

"Come-on, get started!" Growled Ham. But Don did not move. His eyes were as big as saucers but he was passively refusing to follow his instructions.

"Very well," Said Ham. "How many angels can dance on the head of a pin. Now don't go to sleep on me, " He said as he grabbed her collapsing body. "Look at me when I speak! There, that's better. What ever I want YOU WILL DO!" Then taking a handful of her hair, he yanked her head down toward his crotch. "NOW!"

It wasn't so much that Ham wanted a blow job, of course, he wanted to establish his total control over Don. And when the transsexual had sucked enough, he started to pull her head away. "Don, your female self can't get enough. She'll try harder and harder to hang on to this wonderful cock." Instantly the vigor of Don's sucking increased, little moans issued from HER throat. "Your male self will become increasingly disgusted. You want to throw up but you can not! Sick, horrified that THAT thing in your mouth WILL spew forth cum!"

The small redhead's face broke out in a pale sweat. She looked sick yet the vigor of her sucking increased as did her sexual arousal. Finally, Ham couldn't restrain himself any longer, though really the fun was just beginning, he began to cum.

Don sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed as if there could be no end and then, quite abruptly began to throw up.

"Lets go to the bedroom and get better acquainted." Said Ham a few seconds later. "Yes really", he smirked, "I've never known a woman who is also a man. It's an interesting idea something worthy of MY attention."

Brian-Betty-Bertha made it easily out of Las Vegas and the trucker that picked her up had been a complete gentleman. Things became a little dicey only later. He picked up a second ride in Riverside, south to Laguna Beach. This time his luck wasn't quite so good. The driver, a traveling salesman, began to make advances immediately. It wasn't just that he was turned on by "her", a perfectly reasonable response, but there was something evil in his eyes, hurtful. She wasn't surprised then when he turned off Crown Parkway, less than a mile from Brian's destination, and drove into a deserted housing development. She didn't speak and he didn't have to. He licked his lips in anticipation and with his eyes fixated on the swell of his passenger's full breasts, he jerked-out a knife from his coat pocket. The blade flashed in the dark.

"Hey! You don't have to do that." Brian simpered. To have come this far only to be mangled or even killed by a kook Brian was almost too frightened to think. And then, suddenly, an idea. "Want t'a get high first. Huh? Got some totally awesome stuff...Mister?"

He just continued to look at her like some kind of bug he was about to step on. Nervously Brian open the small box containing the two remaining marbles of silicone and held the box toward the man. "Huh?" The salesman muttered. But his curiosity got the better of him.

He plucked one of the tiny pellets out of the box and before Brian could react popped it into his MOUTH AND GULPED IT DOWN! The look on his face was extraordinary but Brian didn't take time to watch the latest transformation. Grabbing the door handle, Brian flung himself from the car and ran off into the night.

The salesman tried to follow his intended victim. Flinging his door open and leaping to his feet in one motion, he stood there for the briefest moment still holding his knife intact, fully unaffected by the material that he has swallowed. But the superficial image of the man was a lie. His internal structures were already entirely feminine. And then, more dramatically than in earlier transformations in which the process worked from the outside in, the male exterior collapsed in an instant. The newly created female, awash in a suit that no longer fit, screamed out into the quiet of the night, "What the HELL was in that shit!" And then she began to cry hysterically.

Vinnie went crazy. Even though the night air was cold, he or rather IT had removed every shred of clothing. No prick, not even a pussy existed between it's legs. The hairless crotch looked more like something from Mattel, completely devoid of any sexual reference, a doll, a plastic Ken-Barbie doll. Gone also were the little tits with the large nipples. Now small mound, bumps really, without nipples, sat upon is chest. He wasn't skinny but thin from the lack of any apparent muscle development. Pre-adolescent and totally devoid of hair, Vinnie sought out the relative protection of the car.

Vinnie couldn't just go back to the club. He remembered what had happened to the other men who had fallen under the influence of this transformation. How the organization had sent them into a brothel. Though, considering his body now, it seemed clear that he had no "sexual" function. Maybe being a broad wasn't such a bad alternative after all. A neuter, more childlike than adult, what possible future did he have?

There was only one person that he could call that would take him in under any circumstances. A safe haven until he could work things out. On the car phone he dialed a familiar number. And when a sleep filled voice answered he said, "Momma?"

Ham's gaze was riveted on the sexy, voluptuous red head now setting on the edge of the bed. He had been doing so for several minutes and Don was getting anxious. In an attempt to break the awkward moment Don raised, in a timorous voice, a question: "Dr. Thorn, If you want, I mean, if your done...can I go..."

With a flip of his hand, as if brushing off a fly, he dismissed Don's request. "Just thinking." Ham grunted and then continued to stare. Imagine having absolute power over matter all matter, he thought. Imagine that he could have ANYTHING that he wanted, would that not, in time, become trite. No conquest, no mountain to climb. This sexy man-woman, was a good example. Ham was startled to find that he couldn't even imagine what, for example, he could do to her that would make "her" more exotic, more interesting yet in a few hours, he would be able to do ANYTHING that he could imagine. Yet she was "perfect", surprisingly "perfect" for him.

"In a few hours," He began talking. He was speaking as much to himself as he was to his captive. "I will be GOD. My power will be absolute. But I deem it my pleasure to allow you, of all those that might be in my presence a degree of independence. Free to obey or not as you chose. To do less would be boring. When you please me I shall reward you and when you do not."

Reward?"

"What ever you want, Don, if it pleases me. You pose a real, if slight danger to me free and independent. I relish that. Life without risk would be simply a bore."

"Anything?" Don's voice choked up.

"To be a man again, if that is what you want. Exactly your old self or maybe younger, healthier, whatever." Ham's voice had grown stronger somehow, more confident as if he had met a major problem and solved it for all time.

"Yes, I want to be just me again. For three years, that is all that I have sought."

"Fine Don. Now it pleases me that you will remain as you are until morning. It pleases me that you will be my lover tonight of your own free will. Take off your clothes, but please do so slowly and with feeling my man-woman."

Chapter 8

Vinnie didn't look like Vinnie, nor did he sound like him and the poor creature was naked as well, but his mother took him into her care without any proof for she knew that this WAS her only living child, Vincent Ramano D' la Rosa. She was just glad that he was alive.

A good night sleep and she was at him again. "Vincent, you need to see a good Doctor, like Smith down at the clinic where I go."

"Momma, like I said." He interrupted. "Ain't no Doctor alive that can fix what's wrong with me not in this life time." He was still huddled on the bed, his naked body wrap in a quilt. "Can ya find someth'n for me to wear or not?"

The old woman came back in a few minutes, carrying a faded pair of blue jeans. "These should do." Her practiced eye scanning her son's slight figure.

"Who's are they? Looks like Sissy's" His face wrinkled in dismay.

"Yes Sissy's. I kept them all these years. Ever since she died... Now you just try to put them on. Besides, they're only jeans, not really girl's clothes Vincent."

"You could've fooled me." He said eyeing the pink trimmed pockets and the argyle pull over his mother carried in her other hand. No panties, thank God he said to himself. She left him alone to get dressed.

In spite of the fact that they hadn't been worn for a long time it had been nearly 10 years since his kid sister's death, Vinnie could still pick up a faint trace of Sissy's perfume and maybe even a very slight hint of her body odor. Vinnie felt the sadness well up inside. Momma probably never washed them, just kept them in her closet all these years. His first sniff made him feel funny like...like last night. But nothing more. After a brief hesitation, he pulled on the pants. The waist was snug and the hips and ass, well what did you expect too loose.

It was when he tried to put on the pull over that things started going weird. The faint female odors went right to his head making him a little high, like pot or something. And then the itching began. First in his crotch and then it quickly spread to his head. "God Damn!" He swore out loud. But the sight of rapidly growing hair on his previously bald head was a delight. "Mamma!" He called out. "Look at this!"

By the time he had found his mamma, in the kitchen, the silky white hair was nearly down to his shoulders. Small little breast buds puckered the front of his pullover. Even the pants fit a lot better.

Mamma looked horrified. "Mamma, what's wrong?"

"Vincent, she said with her eyes filling with tears. Vincent. Vincent! That's cruel."

"Mamma?"

"Making yourself look like your little sister." And she began to cry.

Brian had made his way into the Laguna Beach compound unseen. The place was nearly deserted, that was surprising considering that it was a weekday morning. He managed to locate a computer terminal that was still functional and, within a matter of minutes, was in communication with the Cray at Cedar-Death Valley via fiber-optical land link. He brushed past the security blocks with ease and was soon becoming acquainted with the very strange situation that had developed since his sudden departure over a month ago. It wasn't the fact that the Feds had commandeered the facility, that was almost to be expected given the thrust of the research; certainly it wasn't the fact that Don was still there but no longer in any position of authority, that was almost expected; no the real surprise was found in the most recent transmutation data. Even with the existence of the Fairy Transmutation Device, Brian expected to discover an orderly world. He knew, to the 10th decimal place, exactly what this record "should" look like, at least to a first approximation, and it didn't!

Hours later Brian had discovered exactly what had happened but not how or why. The record that had first caught his eye, the last transmutation had NOT actually occurred EXACTLY at the silicone interface! It was as if someone had found a way of by passing that molecular structure and somehow communicate directly with the Fairy Network. It was obvious, that once free of the constraints imposed by the initial interface, one could create ANYTHING!

This alone would have boggled Brian's mind, but the fact was that the "official" records failed to document this startling finding. Whoever had unlocked the secrets of the mechanism, and it seemed unlikely to be Dr. Arnold, was keeping everyone else in the dark.

Brian remained at the terminal throughout the rest of the day as bits and pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. It was nearly midnight the bleary eyed scientist had discovered precisely who had worked the solution: Dr. Hamilton Thorn of the National Bureau Standards. Minutes later, Brian's biographic search pulled out an abstract of Dr. Thorn's Dissertation. Although there was far too little information in the abstract itself, there was enough to point the way toward the solution.

Brian found a cubbie hole in which to sleep without being discovered. He was just too tired to continue.

"Get up my sleepy head." Hamilton Thorn nudged his beautiful companion. She sat up, momentarily disorientated. Her disheveled hair forming a cloud which only partly hid her breasts which were still swaying from her abrupt movement.

She blinked once and then again as she look at Ham. "Then it wasn't dream. You...we.."

"Enough. While you were still sleeping I put the finishing touches on your matrix. I just wanted you to be awake to enjoy my triumph."

"Matrix? Triumph?" A sleepy yawn leaked out of her mouth.

"I've taken the liberty to make you a little younger and trimmer. Oh yes, new clothes."

"What?"

"Your reconversion back to that male body that you have struggled so long to achieve. Now! Here!"

"Here? How is that possible?"

"If you must know," Ham said with a self satisfied grin on his face. I can now communicate directly with the interface. And so more talk or do you want to do it?" Even before Don nodded his pretty head, Ham initiated the transference of the altered numerical code which was now Dr. Donald Arnold to the Network. The delay, which lasted at least 30 seconds, caused Ham considerable concern, for this was really the first attempt to communicate completely outside the field generated by the Transmutation Device. And finally it arrived. No slow transition, for the communication was one way now. With an audible plop, Don Arnold fell to the floor beside the bed. "Whoa!" He exclaimed. His rich baritone voice suddenly filling the bedroom. His hands went first to his chest and then his head and finally to his groin. No naked body here: light gray woolen slacks of the finest quality, ditto on the silk shirt and cashmere sports coat. Italian loafers, a gold watch which looked like it had a handful of diamonds on its face. Every detail was perfect, down to the soft Scottish woolen hosiery. Don, his face grinning from ear to ear, scrambled to the mirror to gaze at his own reflection. Most of the gray was gone from his hair, only a little at the temples which looked great!

"When you are done admiring yourself, Dr. Arnold, you are free to go."

"Go? Where?"

"Absolutely any where you want."

"Any where, even leave the facility?"

"That includes anywhere." Said Ham with a grin.

"And if you should want me...?"

"Never mind, Don. Go! Enjoy!"

As Hamilton Thorn watched Don almost dance across the lawn he thought, not so free my dear Don as you might think. Ham had made some microscopic adjustments in Don's matrix that were not so obvious. If, given the opportunity for sex, poor Don would discover that he was no longer a ladies man. Nothing obvious. He could still lust after women and with his money and "improved" appearance, he would not lack the opportunity. And sex of course. All perfectly excellent, at least superficially. But at heart, Don would not be a lady's man but a man's lady! Yes! Sex as a man would be a pale reflection of that he had enjoyed as a woman. Possible? NO! CERTAIN! For Hamilton Thorn was but one step from Godhood and he knew precisely what Don's matrix contained.

The salesman stood there bleary-eyed before the 7/11 clerk, what the hell, he thought. I'm on a drug that the bitch gave me. Its got to be THAT! Dawn had not yet arrived at this tiny corner of the corporate empire of the Seven/Eleven and the bright eyed Indian who was standing behind the counter seemed ready enough to respond to him. "Excuse me sir," Began the salesman in an obviously feminine voice.

"Yes" responded the Indian, his "s" rising in a lilting fashion. "Be of service?" He continued, the "e" now carried upward, almost to the ceiling. The small, dark man was of not a danger to anyone, the salesman concluded.

"Do I look Ah! Er Female?" The salesman finally blurted out.

The little guy really didn't know what to say to the woman. "Excuse me?" He shrilled. He had left L.A. two years ago to avoid nuts and yet here he was in the heart of Orange County, speaking to an obviously well endowed woman, before the sun had even come up, as to her probable sex! So he just stood there, open mouthed.

"Geeze!" Said the salesman as he decided to pull off his jacket and, after a brief hesitation, started to unbutton his shirt. "Do these LOOK like BREASTS!" He demanded.

The poor clerk was frazzled, for pointing at him was about the finest pair of knockers he had ever hoped to see. Eyes popping open, he gapped. "Veritably! Yes trueeely M'Lady."

Shit, thought the salesman. This wasn't exactly what he had expected. "Comm'on. If they are real you'cud touch them. Go'on!"

The clerk was split between hitting the emergency button and jumping onto the fleshy mounds that hung over his polished counter. "Excuse..." His voice dangled between heaven and earth.

"Damn it!" Blurted out the salesman. "Here" And he pulled the small, brown man's hand to his phantom breast.

"Oh My OH! MY!" Blurted out the Indian clerk, but the transformation invoked by the contact with the breast stilled his voice, at least momentarily. In less than a minute thirty seconds, there were two identical young women alone in that Seven/Eleven.

"Bri?"

"Don? DON!"

"I don't know why, but I just knew that it was you Bri. Gotten a little taller and a lot bustier..."

"Thorn Right!"

"Thorn? How ya know?"

"Three days staring at this monitor, that's how. God, Don, you look great. You look younger, healthier, I mean ah before the change that is AH and all. Don We got to stop him. The man's dangerous."

"Yea, Bri. You got that right. Plan?"

Chapter 9

It was incredible, when you think of it. High over head was a stealth bomber, cost, in excess of a cool BILLION dollars, more money than most third world countries generated in a year and far more than Hamilton Thorn had ever thought of, before this month, and all because of HIM. He could almost feel the tactical nuclear missile lancing down at him at MACH 5. Washington had finally become aware of the danger Ham presented. Enough that some or all of the 7,000 people in the 500 square mile area around Cedar- Death Valley could be considered expendable.

And it was all too late! The warhead vanished as it broke the 5 mile limit created by Ham. A few minutes later, the high-tech aircraft also went off the radar. Just gone! And now time to reply! What was left of the technical-scientific staff, for most had been departing over the last 17 hours, would never leave. They would become little more than toys for Ham. Intellectual capacities terminated, they would be creatures driven by their altered limbic systems. Toys to please Ham's most obscure pleasures. Too bad he couldn't as yet take on the Establishment. But that too would come, in time. No, Ham's Godhood extended only 5 miles in radius now. But within that sphere it was total! The field that Ham generated, no longer constrained by the primary code expressed in the Fairy Transmutation Device, could form what ever he wished it to form and by rules that were, almost, without limit. In a flight of whimsy, he began to create a virtual enchanted desert. Creatures, large and small, previously known only in fairy tales were coming into existence today.

The village of Two Egg, population 207, sat astride state route 21. Unfortunately for Two Egg, the northern fringe of the community, a bar and a handful of sand scarred and sun blasted mobile homes, lay just inside Ham's Transmutation Field. In fact, the rundown stucco building that housed the bar was actually bisected by the field. The latter fact had saved, thus far, the owner and her two early afternoon customers from transmutation. Such close proximity to the field however was not without impact. Like butterflies, Melody thought, as she wiped her hands dry on the tattered apron around her ample waist. Her stomach was doing flips and for no reason. Her worrying was broken by the arrival of a middle aged couple. Tourists. Unhappy campers as well. The man's anger was evident by the way he treated the woman. The woman was obviously intimidated by the man and the bruise on one cheek clearly was not an accident. Melody's heart immediately went out to the poor woman. Been there done that, she thought sourly. Fact was, Melody never had much in the way of pleasant experiences with men. Both the drunks in the bar right now were Ex's of hers, in one way or another at least. Both were slobs and Terry, well he was as mean as they come. But out here, you took what you could get. And being fat or big boned as her mother used to say, well it didn't give a girl much to chose from. Men!

She could see that the poor woman was in considerable stress, but what could she do but mind her own damn business. Seconds after the couple had gone to the head, Melody found herself compelled to get involved. It was obvious that the couple's argument had resurfaced and from the sounds of their voices it wouldn't be long until it came to blows. Not in my place! No way!.. She grabbed her baseball bat from under the counter and nodded to Terry to follow her.

The woman's voice had escalated into shrieking panic and, before Melody could get to the back, it suddenly terminated. As Melody and Terry pushed open the Lady's Room door with Carl now right behind, they were greeted by a bellowing male voice which echoed in the small rest room.

As Melody adjusted her grip on the baseball bat, the man turned toward her. The son of a bitch was totally naked! A giant prick jutted out from his groin; half erect, it was the biggest cock that Melody had ever seen! Only then did she notice his feet. Hooves! The man's legs were covered in thick, animal like fur that extended down to his...Hooves! Melody tried to back away from this apparition, but Terry and Carl, pushing to get inside, were blocking her retreat. Melody screamed. "SON-OF-A-BITCH! IT'S A MONSTER!"

That got their attention. Terry and Carl were instantly trying to back peddle into the narrow hall way. Their coordination, muddled by alcohol and by the tight tangle of bodies that had been created when the big woman had suddenly reversed direction, became completely disrupted when the door to the Men's Room banged open and expelled yet another body into the fleeing mass. They all fell down in a heap. Drunk as he was, Carl couldn't help but notice the full, round butt in his face or the emphatic swell of her hips which he assayed with one hand. The naked woman squirmed in an attempt to get free of the offending weight pressing down. "What do we have here?" He said in a drunken voice.

"Larry?" Croaked the hoofed man-thing. He was the only one still standing. "LARRY!" He yelled in a thunderous voice.

"Myra?" A muffled voice called from under the tangle of bodies. "Myra. Help me I'm here. There's something terribly wrong!"

Whether by design or accident, the woman successfully pulled herself free. Looking down at her naked body, she began to quiver all over. The skin was pale green, the hair, what little there was, also green. She was a tiny little woman, delicate beyond human comparison, that is, until she turned and ran.

Her surprisingly plump bottom exited from view. A second later, the man-thing, leaped over the remaining mass and followed. "What the hell was that all about?" Gasped Melody.

"You know what I think," began Carl. "I think its time to have another brew. Yep. As soon as I take a piss."

The Land Rover, now off road to avoid detection, bounced over the desert floor. Dr. Donald Arnold had his hands full as he steered the vehicle north by north-east. Brian's large breasts, unconstrained by a bra, were executing fluid but erratic movements under his filthy sweat suit. Finally Brian dropped the blue print that he had been studying for the last hour and used his hand to steady his errant tits. "Hurts!"

"Yea, I know what you mean." Replied Don. "I mean...use to."

"The pumps! Exclaimed Brian. Ham can't do anything without that Cray. And the Cray can't live without it's liquid nitrogen. The idea of cryogenic circuits in the heat of Death Valley always seemed unnatural to me anyhow. When we get inside, you hold his attention while I work my way over to the primaries."

"So you think we got a chance?"

"Kill the Cray! Damn right we got a chance!" Brian repeated himself, but more quietly the second time. "Damn right we got a chance. Ah! Don! Do you feel that?"

"What?"

"Stop the car! Ah...ah..aaaah. Toooo late." Moaned Brian.

As soon as he had managed to bring the vehicle to an abrupt halt, Don turned toward his companion. "I don't feel anything Bri what's wrong?"

"Your code. Ham must'a excluded your code..." And then Brian's body began to waver as if he were about to disappear. For an instant he was transparent and then SNAP! Brian had always been Brian. Something about the man's personality soul had always leaked through, regardless of the transmutation he had undergone but at that instant Don knew that his old friend no longer existed. The eyes told it all. Pale yellow hypnotic eyes that seemed to be filled with fire but no Brian.

Don lunged for the door handle, but the thing that was no longer Brian grabbed for him. First one hand, then two and then three wrapped around Don's arm. Round, full breasts were driven against Don's back, as three more hands and arms clutched at him. With super-human strength, the creature pulled Don onto his back and began to drag him across the bench seat of the vehicle and then out of the car and onto the ground.

She straddled his hips. Two of her hands easily held him down as the others began to strip off his clothing. Blinded by the intense desert sun, Don could only make out the general outline of the figure above him. Like a Hindu goddess...Not just the multiple limbs, but the fantastically rounded contours of all HER aspects. And there was no question of it being her, he thought, as his penis was engulfed by her vagina.

Her passion was that of an animal: raw, vigorous and immediate. And when Don finally ejaculated, the creature looked deeply into Don's eyes as if to assure herself that the male's service was really concluded. The slit type pupils contracted to almost nothing as her snake like tongue flick out, as if to sample the air. And then with a screech, her vagina released Don's penis and then she was gone.

She had headed off in the general direction of the Cedar-Death Valley Research Center. A fact that brought no comfort to Don. As he went about gathering up his clothes, Don couldn't help think that he was too far over his head to even think about challenging Hamilton Thorn's authority. Or maybe, he mused, this was why Ham had let Don go in the first place. That Ham knew that Don posed no real threat. Am I already his slave and just don't know it? Don climbed back into the Rover to get out of the sun and to think over his options.

Ham was having fun! He took a special interest in some of his colleagues. The twit psychologist, Dr. Adams, for example. He left her matrix almost unmodified. The additions were really minor: a really generous penis and a stupendous pair of balls. Penis envy indeed! Stuff it Freud. There was no reason to be all powerful if you can't help your friends he giggled to himself. As a special favor, he had made an equally minor modification of Dr. Adams' boss, Dr. Klosky. Seems having a pussy, however, wasn't an easy adjustment for the good doctor. Anyhow, Linda Adams was still trying to get Dr. Klosky's pants off even as Ham looked on. And he screamed so well...

Most of the transformations weren't so ordinary. He hadn't made anything particularly dangerous, yet. No dragons or such. A great many creatures of mixed species: centaurs, Harpies, ah, the variations were nearly endless. Indeed there were many more ideas yet to be tried, he had simply run out of subjects!

And then there was Don. Would he show or not?

Don had worked his way through the outer perimeter unobserved, he hoped. With all the strange creatures he had seen, and some of them were in the air, it seemed impossible that nothing had seen him. Yet no cry of alarm had gone out that Don had detected. The transmutational field which Ham was using appeared to be blind to Don. For what ever reason, this single fact was all that he had in his favor.

Apparently the electronic sensors on the second perimeter were no longer functional; Don was getting anxious too easy. He stopped to consider his next challenge. Crossing the compound looked impossible. Creatures every where and no place to hide. A man could be heard screaming off to the left. Don decided: Down. A series of tunnels ran the length of the complex. That was the good news.

Don had a tendency to get claustrophobic anyway. But here he had a legitimate excuse. Under the best of conditions, the dark passage way was a tight fit. At juncture points, nearly impossible. He had traveled almost 90 percent of the distance only to have to return to the start point, where he took off his clothes before trying again.

Covered in filth, with his naked body cut and bruised, Don finally reached the end of this leg of the journey. Pushing aside the grate, he carefully pulled himself into the maintenance building. Stumbling forward, he surged into a loping run. Little more than 200 feet away was the door to the pump facility.

"Don!" Ham's voice rang out harshly. "So you ARE here!"

Ham's voice sounded almost pleased. A fact that wouldn't last long...as soon as he discovered Don's goal... Even in his present condition, Don could see that he would get to the pump facility first. Ham couldn't stop him now and there was no time for the man to work his miracle at a terminal there was no terminal here. He yelled over his shoulder, "THE CRAY WILL DIE!"

Hamilton Thorn abruptly terminated his pursuit. "Don. Let's be reasonable. Have I not been good to you? Why risk everything to hurt me now Don?"

Don slowed, but did not stop. "Ham, your power will die with the Cray. You have to be stopped. No one should have that much power."

Ham, his voice having taken on a soothing tone like one might use with a child, said, "Don, Don, Don," he pleaded, "will you give up your manhood to stop me? There is a field in that room that will NOT respect your identity. And I promise you that this change will be forever. Come to your senses and we can share power."

Don paused at the pump facility door to consider his options. And then, resolutely, he squared his manly shoulders and entered. He locked the chamber door behind him. Now he could NOT be stopped!

With his first stride toward the master shut off, he felt his body quiver. He looked down and all was there that should be there. But his limbs were hairless and the hair around his groin followed a feminine distribution. No! He would not stop. He remembered Brian destroyed.

Another stride and he could feel his bone and muscles changing. He held his hands up before his face as he reached up toward the suddenly higher switch place. Slender, feminine hands, soft and fragile hung there white against the dark for a moment. As the lever descended and the sounds of the pumps died away and Don knew that the Cray would die, the last vestige of his manhood disappeared. Don swooned.

Don woke up in his own bed back at Laguna Beach. The mirror above him reflected back his image, the same one that he had seen for most of the last three years. The beautiful golden-red hair splayed out across the silk forest green sheets and Ham entered.

"Look long and hard, my lovely. And abandon all hope for as long as I will it, this IS the way you will remain. You never had a chance, you know. The transfer of command from the Cray to me personally had been completed hours before you arrived."

"But why..?

"I wanted to test you. To understand your make up."

"But still, why?"

"To see if you were worthy of being my companion, my lovely. That and nothing else."

"And?" Interrupted Don.

"And you are my sweet... Dawn!"

The Beginning