magicshoppe

Talk: Plates in the Air

I need to pair down the number of things I have nearly finished. This is, hopefully, a complete list, including very minor spoilers:

• Hard To Look At: I have been stalled on the last chapter or two for months. When I started posting it, I thought I knew where it was going. I didn't. I've made a bit of headway in the last week as I figured out the last bit plot point and figured out how to make it end. But actually getting the writing done... Not so much.
• The Truth: I may have started releasing this thing too soon. There are another 15-16 finished chapter that haven't been released yet. But there could 5 more chapters after that or 15 more. I know how it should end. But I have no clue how it will get there nor how long that will take. Sigh.
• Ted's Dolls: I have lots of ideas for maybe the Spring semester. But the plan is for TD34-TD39 to be the end of the Fall semester. Four of those stories are half done. Two are still just POV titles with no plotting done.
• Five Minute Girl: Another one that is either 2 or 5 more chapters. No clue.
• One Wish: I mentioned this in a few places. 2.5 parts are complete. It is a prequel to Boop, an older story on deviantArt. It will be 2-3 more parts. It could be a lot longer based on the current structure.
• Trust Machines - I'm With The Band: Anyone still remember the story of Ravenna's Libido? I have started and aborted part 4 too many times in the 4.5 years since I released part 3. I have a part 4 that I haven't given up on in the last year. I just haven't had time to focus on it. And given how far down the list it is. Who knows when I'll get to it. Maybe I should turn part 4 into a "Behind the Music" documentary. :) "In the late 2010s, a three piece band rose and fell to stardom. This is their story..." Part 3 ended on a cliff-hanger with Ravenna's water breaking. It took me 2 years to name the baby: Riley. Spoiler alert. Oops.
• Trust Machines - Age Appropriate: I'm With The Band, part 1 was written for a TM story contest in 2018. It was my backup submission because I didn't think I could finish Age Appropriate in time and I thought it was the longer of the two stories. IWTB, part 1, 2, and 3  were 9k, 14k, and 10k words in length. Age Appropriate is only 9k at the moment. But I really, really hope to finish this story because I want to know how it ends. :)
• Who is the Doll Woman?: This will be the next novel length story after The Truth. There've been no teasers for it and I won't be teasing any of the plot here. It is 1/4 finished, perhaps.
• Short Stories: In the can, waiting for a spot on the schedule: Point of Sale, Slow Writing, Magic Shoppe-Feminize (needs a better title), Cum Slave (really needs a better title. :) The original title of Cum Slut is possibly 0.5% better.)
• Short Stories: Not finished but started stories (In the order of my own interested in getting them done): The Transformation Inspector Three, Park Hookup, MS-The Asters parts 4 and 5, Savanna Slopes, Trust Machines - Babysitting 2, TM - Sister Bros & TM - Dude Gals (kind of the same story. Might combine), Collar Couple, Taste Testing, Cam Girl, Magic Shoppe-The Amazing Andrew, Transit-22, and so on. There are a couple dozen more started short stories that I could suddenly have an idea for and would start working on.
• Till Death: I hope this approaches novel length when finished. Not much else to say. It's... different.
• In the same vein, I have a Modern Fantasy story that doesn't really have transformations in it started that I will finish eventually.
• Some day, I will write something resembling a Superhero novel. Some day.
• Old Novels: These aren't really being worked on. But they could be.... The Device, Remote Control, The Collar, and Mannequin Hair. They are r longer works from over a decade ago that explore similar ground. One of them will probably end up being a novel released here if I ever figure out how they should end. 
• Captions/Manips: There are two more Buying My Wife A Present sequels nigh ready for release. There are also a few pics queued for release in Feb, March, April, and May around the 25th of those months: Sasha! No!, Cordon Off 3, Can I Keep Her?, and Pageant Winner.

I think this is longer than I thought and at the same time there's so many things I left out.

After Hard To Look At finishes its run, The Truth will probably go back on the schedule and the finished short stories in the back log will stream out before Ted's Dolls takes over the Tuesday slot. At least, that's the plan. Comments are welcome yada yada.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 10

Later at home, I was in the garage. I felt like challenging myself so I took an old T-shirt and ripped it into strips. I carefully threaded it through my head snakes, blindfolding myself. With my head snakes it seemed like I could see perfectly all around me. The only real difficulty was remembering which direction my legs were facing.

I sat down at my desk and worked on some sketches for Marie's bust. The door to the breezeway opened slowly and Elliot asked, "Can I come in?"

I nodded without looking up from my sketchpad. I tried to minimize the snake's tendency to track movement, allowing Elliot's passage through the room to pass from one snake to another.

"How's it going?"

"Not bad," I replied curtly.

"Are you blindfolded? "

I tilted my head up. "Cool, isn't it? What do you think of this sketch of Marie?" I asked turning the pad around.

"Looks just like her," he replied after a moment. "You seem more relaxed, even sure of yourself. Did you learn something at the Clinic? "

"Not exactly," I began. I told him about visiting with Dr. Adelaide, skipping over the entire visit with Dr. Philips. I detailed the visit to the animal hospital. I was a little embarrassed talking about frightening the guy who whistled at me, though I noticed Elliot became a little agitated when I mentioned the whistle. Finally, I told him about the old man.

Elliot looked surprised as I told him about the old man. "Wow, I didn't think it was true. You must have met The Advisor."

"You think so?" I asked. The Advisor is a legendary figure around town. Most presume he was Twisted with a trick that attracts him to people who need advice, or vice versa, and the trick makes it so he always knows exactly what to say. "He did seem adamant that I not refer to myself as a monster. And I do feel more comfortable with my twist than I ever have."

"Guess he's not a myth."

"Are you going to leave the blindfold on all the time from now on?"

I laughed, "I forgot I was wearing it."

"Really?"

I started removing it. "Maybe I've discovered the latest women's fashion trend."

After a few questions and answers to clarify parts of my story, there was a pause in the conversation. I closed the sketchpad and rearranged my legs to put the pad away without falling off the stool.

Elliot took the opportunity while I seemed distracted to check me out. I watched as his eyes ran up and down my legs and lingered on my breasts. I leaned forward more than I had to and was oddly delighted to know I had drawn his eyes to my ass as I turned it toward him unnecessarily.

How did I feel about Elliot? How did he feel about me?

As I sat back in the chair, Elliot shook his head and turned away from me. His expression was a mix of confusion and surprise. He managed to keep both feelings from his voice as he asked, "You want to experiment today?"

"Do you like me?" The words spilled out of my mouth before I realized I was going to say them.

He looked as surprised and nervous as I felt as he managed to nonchalantly say, "I wouldn't be here if not. We're best buds, aren't we?"

In for a penny, I thought. "Elliot and Gordon were best buds. What are Elliot and Medusa?"

"I'm not giving up over twelve years of friendship over your twist." He began and then I could see from his expression that something unexpected had just occurred to him. "Wait. Are you suggesting we might become less than best buds? Or more?"

I looked downward, my snakes scrambled behind me in a flurry of movement, putting Elliot out of sight. There it was... out in the open... and we could no longer ignore it.

I heard him move and he took hold of one of my snakes, turning it toward his face. "I would prefer to tell you this to your beautiful face but I'll settle for this little guy's face if I have to as long as I know you can see me."

I looked up at Elliot and he dropped my snake to look me in the eyes. "We have loved each other for many years. We never considered acting on that love romantically before because for most of those years we were just kids and presumably two straight guys. Circumstances have changed so maybe we will reconsider romance in the future. I doubt either of us are ready to take that step anytime soon, if ever. If we do, it will be when we are both ready. You still need to learn who you've become and I'll be here to help you as much as you will let me."

Tears were welling up in my eyes and whatever vestiges of manhood remained inside me made me want to look away but I held my gaze on him and said, "That is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me." I felt like such a girl as I said it and more so as I continued, "You are right. I wish I had the courage to have said anything nearly that honest." I reached out and hugged him close, his head next to mine, and whispered, "I truly do love you, Elliot."

"I love you, Medusa," he whispered back. "But could you not wrap your snakes around my head?"

We let go of each other and the few snakes that had coiled around his head let go. I laughed, "They wanted a hug, too." I wiped my tears away.

"Let's do something else before we start to feel awkward," Elliot suggested.

"Okay, but it won't stop us from feeling awkward later."

"Okay, you obviously want awkward. Turn into your snake form."

"Why?"

"It's a test."

"I can't in these jeans."

"I'll step out while you wiggle out of them and transform," he declared as he left the garage.

I watched him leave with my jaw slacked open. Resigned to whatever he planned-- after our declarations of love I could not claim not to trust him-- I took off my blouse and bra. Then I shimmied out of my jeans and panties. I don’t think I had ever been naked in the garage before. I stood with legs together and willed the change to begin. For the first time I really watched the transformation take place. My hips shattered painlessly and started sinking down my legs toward the floor. As the remains of my hips descended, they gained mass from the mass of two legs combining into a single cylindrical structure that wound up narrower than even one thigh by itself. Around where my knees had been my body was around six inches in diameter.

While this process turned me from two legs to none, green color washed around from my back to my front. My breasts flattened and as they redistributed my flesh became more scaly. My arms narrowed and became longer as did my hands. I think my neck expanded.

When the remains of my hips reached my feet I became unsteady as my feet were absorbed into the mass. I seemed to sink down into that mass until all at once the mass became my coiled lower body. The urge to stretch out overcame me and I slithered around the table.

The whole process took less than five seconds. I put my blouse back on. Nothing else I had been wearing would fit now. "I'm ready," I called out to Elliot.

He reentered the garage and walked straight up to me. Without warning his hands grasped my upper arms and he pulled me down to eye level with him.

I was about to ask him what he was doing when he leaned in and kissed me. It was not a passionate kiss, he did not try to push his tongue into my mouth. It was soft and warm, gentle I suppose. Our eyes were open and suddenly I needed to stop.

I pushed him back and exclaimed with more indignation than I felt, "Elliot!"

"Let me explain," he requested holding his hands up in submission. "First, I warned you it would be more awkwardness. Second, it was a test. It was a test you would have been giving to me forever if I hadn't just done this. When I said I loved you, I wanted you to be clear that I meant all of you, including this you."

He was going to continue complementing me so I stopped him. "Yes, yes, you don't care if I can devour someone's life force, have a scaly face, or started wearing nothing but pink. I know this. That's why I trust you implicitly."

"Oh," he replied. "Sorry about the kiss then. I did have a backup plan." When I just looked at him expectantly, he continued, "Let's go to my house and play video games. You and me will leave the garage right now, head down the sidewalk and enter to my house."

"Looking like this?"

I thought I would be afraid to go out in public like this but the thought of being seen like this no longer bothered me. I was a little nervous. In the spirit of his plan I said, "Challenge accepted." I turned and slithered to the door.

"Really?" Elliot said, a look of shock covering his face.

"Sure, I should get out more." In the breeze way I called out, "I'm headed over to Elliot's house."

"Call if you'll be late for dinner," Mom called back.

“I won't be late,” I replied. “We're going to Dr Hausser's for dinner tonight.”

I reached the breezeway door facing the front yard and was suddenly overwhelmed by the vast openness of the public road and sidewalk. It's not the mall, I reassured myself as I swung the door open and slithered forth.

Elliot held the door open and I turned to see why he had not followed me out the door. "I didn't think you wanted me to let the door slam on your tail," he explained.

I forgot it was trailing so far behind me. I coiled up my tail a bit until the tip was only a couple feet away.

Elliot closed the door and joined me halfway to the sidewalk. Though I towered over him, he gallantly hooked his arm around mine. Conveniently my long arms put our hands at about the same height. "It's a lovely day for a leisurely... ambulance along the sidewalk. Wouldn't you say?"

"You were going to say walk."

"No, no. I was going to say stroll."

I laughed. "This is weird. I can feel the texture of the sidewalk as I move along it. At the same time I am receiving that sensation from what my mind usually thinks of as my stomach, thighs and shins all at once."

"That makes sense," Elliot said. "Your current abdomen is composed of elements of those three body parts."

The walk of four house lengths was over quickly and we entered Elliot's house. His mother entered the living room as we arrived. She did not hide the shock from he face upon seeing me. She smiled warmly as she said, "Medusa, it is wonderful to finally meet you again. Elliot however did not tell me you would be in this form. I was under the impression you were unhappy with this one."

"Given the choice, I'd still be a guy. I have been working to become use to being a girl and I figured out that I need to get use to this form, too."

"It is striking," she said. "I love the richness of your coloring."

"Thank you."

"We're going to play some video games in my room," Elliot announced as he headed for the stairs.

Winding my way up a flight of stairs was a little tricky until I figured out how to do it. Elliot's room was clean as usual. I moved into a corner and wound myself into a coil with my torso perched at the top of the coil. It almost felt like I was sitting.

We were playing for about ten minutes when the door was flung open and Elliot's little brother Todd burst in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me and declared, "You look awesome." Todd was a typical eight year old boy, full of energy and questions.

"Thank you, Todd."

"Are you really Gordon? "

"I use to be Gordon. Now, I'm Medusa."

"What's it feel like to be a snake?"

"Todd!" Elliot admonished.

"It's okay," I stated. "He's just curious. Todd, I'm only half snake so I don't necessarily know exactly what being a snake feels like. Snakes don't have arms, for example. For me it feels a little weird when I'm stretched out. My head's here and my tail could be far away."

"Is it true you can turn someone into a statue?

"Yes, now can you let me and Elliot get back to our game? "

"Okay," Todd said. "Can I watch? "

"If you're quiet," I said.

He sat down in front of the bed and was quiet for a few moments.

"Can I feel your skin?

"Why do you have little snakes on your head?

"Is it true your wee-wee fell off?"

"That's it!" Elliot declared. He call out, "Mom, Todd is asking rude questions."

"I'll be quiet," Todd pleaded. "I want to stay."

"Give him a chance," his mother called back.

Elliot leaned down and whispered, "If you aren't quiet I'll ask Medusa to turn you into a statue. Statues are very quiet."

"You can turn me to a statue right here? That would be great. Do it." He was jumping around excitedly.

I stared at Elliot in annoyance. "First, you need to ask your mommy if it is okay for me to turn you to stone. Then, I'll think about it."

"Moooooooom," he called out as he ran out of the room.

"What is wrong with you?" I demanded.

"What?"

"Be good or my monster friend will get you."

"That's not what I..." he paused dejectedly. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking about how you would feel about it."

"Why does Todd want to be a statue?" Asked his mother as she stepped into the room.

I looked at Elliot meaningfully.

"He won't keep quiet so I kind of implied..."

"You threatened your brother with petrification?"

"It didn't sound so bad when I was saying it. Besides, it would only last an hour."

"I'll deal with you later," she told him. Then she turned to me and requested, "If Todd manages to ask you politely, would it bother you to fulfill his request? "

"Not at all," I replied. After she left I turned to Elliot and said, "Since petrification is apparently a valid means of punishment, you aren't leaving the room when I use my trick on Todd. I will try my very best to only affect him, like we practiced in my garage yesterday.  But, if I mess up, the worst case is I get an hour of uninterrupted solo game play.

Todd returned, walking slowly and deliberately. "Excuse me, G-, Medusa," he began. "I want to know how it feels to be a statue. Would mind using your trick on me?"

"Do you understand that it will last for a whole hour whether you like it or not and that I can't undo it earlier? "

"Yes. I will be stuck for an hour."

"Do you want to face the TV so you can watch us play our game? "

"I'll be able to see?"

Elliot replied, "And hear and even feel if someone touches you. Now stand how you want to be posed."

I drifted my upper body toward the TV and turned to face them both. "Are you ready?"

He had his arms straight out and his body tilted like he was an airplane making a banked turn, "Yes."

"Are you looking at the TV screen? "

"Yes."

I immediately concentrated my focus on just him as I flashed my inner eyelid open and close. The color drained out of Todd, leaving him a white statue. "There you go, Todd. You are a statue. And you are not."

"Wow, you did it," Elliot was surprised.

We resumed our game. A little while later, Elliot's mother poked her head in, saying, "Sorry, I just had to see Todd."

We paused our game as she entered with her phone. She spent a minute making a video of Todd as a statue and asking us questions.

"Yes, he can hear us talking. He can probably see the TV," I told her.

"I've never had the sensation of needing to scratch an itch when I've been petrified," Elliot explained.

After she left, I asked, "Do you think she was wanting to get stoned?"

"Maybe," he shrugged.

An hour later, Todd returned to normal in silence.

"Well?" I asked. "Did you enjoy it? "

"It was okay," he answered. He turned and gave me a hug. "It was a bit too boring."

"You don't want to go another hour?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "Maybe some other time. B-bye." He ran from the room calling his mother and asking her about the video she made.

We finished playing several hours later. Since I didn’t have any pants with me I had to slither home. After spending so much time relaxing in this form, it was not as big a deal to slither home as it had been to come here. Mom just said hello without commenting on my form as I went up to my room. I returned to human form to get changed for our visit to the animal doctor. I chose a dark green blouse to go with my jean skirt.

We got in the car and arrived by six. The doctor apparently was well off. The house was not quite a mansion. But, it was set back from the road with a long driveway. It looked like it might have five or six bedrooms.

An obviously Twisted woman, a humanoid cat really, answered the door. Her face was mostly human with a faint coating of light orange fuzz, though her pupils were like cat's eyes. Cat whiskers hung stiffly straight out to the sides from the edges of her nostrils. Cat ears with leopard patterned spots were atop her head poking through a normal human blond head of hair. The fuzz on her face thickened and gained a leopard spot pattern all over her body. She seemed short because she was standing with bent back legs and it seemed like her limbs were shorter than her body height would suggest. A long tail swung lazily behind her. She was wearing nothing but a small blue bikini and a gauzy, white jacket.

"Betty, it is so nice to see you," Daddy said to her with a sociable hug.

"Gregory, Silvia, it's good to see you again." She looked up at me. "And this is certainly no longer your son."

"I'm Medusa," I replied shaking her hand. I have to admit, I only shook her hand to find out if it were a hand or a paw. It was a fuzzy hand with rather short fingers.

We went inside and met Dr. Hauser before we all sat down in a formal living room. Daddy and Douglas talked about their old college friendship while Mom and Betty talked about how long it had been since Betty had seen me. I had been three years old they decided. After a little while, Betty stood up to excuse herself so she could check on dinner.

Mom took my hand and stood up, "Would you like some help?" I was forced to stand up too.

"No, you're our guests," Betty replied as if reading from a script.

"I insist. Besides I've heard all their stories before."

"Well, I wouldn't want to subject you to them again,"  Betty agreed.

Mom pushed me in front of her as we were led to the kitchen.

Betty spent all of a minute checking dinner. She then grabbed a bowl and poured a dish of pasta into it and handed it to Mom. "I know you probably need this," she told my mother.

Mom said, "Thanks."

The three of us sat around the kitchen table to talk while Mom ate.

"Seeing you wearing a skirt and heels, I guess it is okay to ask you how you feel about being a woman?" Betty asked.

"As long as I get to hear what it's like to be a cat."

"Oh, that's not even close to the same. Although it's taking all my willpower not to swat at your snakes. Their movement triggers my cat compulsions fiercely." Her eyes were obviously tracking one of my snakes and she was leaning forward in her chair.

"Well, warn your cat instincts that my snakes have a paralytic venom and they can react to perceived danger before I'm even aware of it."

She sat back and pulled her knees up. "I better keep my distance," she laughed. "I was about to do it."

I reached up and took one of my snakes in hand, "This one?"

"Wow, how'd you know?"

"I can see through their eyes," I explained. "That has nothing to do with being a woman. I've been concentrating on the more exotic parts of my twist at the expense of exploring my gender change."

"If you can see through their eyes you've already mastered having eyes in the back of your head." She laughed. "Given how quickly you're adapting to those exotic changes, you should have no trouble with your other new parts. Are the clothes a compulsion?"

"Partially. I can change into another form, basically into a snake woman."

"No way," she interrupted.

"Yes, but when my legs merge and turn into a snake abdomen and tail, clothes between my legs are destroyed. I have a slight compulsion against wearing pants."

"At least you can wear clothes," Betty laughed. "Anything I wear makes me itch so bad that after a few hours I go absolutely crazy and rip them all off. In a bikini and wrap like these I can get through an entire day. But, that's about all I can wear."

A timer rang and she got up to get the food out of the oven. As Betty and mom brought dishes of food out to the table, they sent me to bring the men to the dining room.

Dr. Hauser stood up as I entered the room. Daddy followed his lead eventually.

"Dinner is ready," I announced.

When we got to the dining room the men sat down. I went into the kitchen and mom handed me a platter. "Go set this down on the table and take your seat. We'll be in right behind you."

I returned to the dining room and took my seat.

Douglas asked, "What was it like hanging out with the ladies? "

Daddy laughed, "Don't bother, Douglas. When Medusa first changed I asked her to report on what she might learn about the other half. But yesterday she told me it felt awkward talking to me about girl stuff."

"Surely she was only talking about sex stuff and boys. What girls talk about in private can't be an issue."

"That would be true,” I said. “Except that most of the private, girls-only talks I've been privy to were about boys, or sex. I didn't contribute much to those conversations."

Betty and Mom entered and dinner conversation drifted through recent local events. At the end of the meal, Douglas and I went to the backyard patio. "I thought I might stand here and watch the sunset."

"It is a lovely view. Are you ready?" I was nervous. I hoped I could control myself and feed the smallest amount.

"You have an excellent bedside manner," the doctor noted. "I'm ready."

Without preamble, I flashed my eyelids open and close. He turned to stone within a second. I reached out and placed my palm on his chest. I opened my eyelids again. The taste of his life energy was tantalizing my tongue. I held back. I left the ambrosia like substance remain where it was, confirming I was in control. "Douglas, this is what drinking feels like." Then, I took a small sip of it.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 9

I woke up Saturday morning with two legs, much to my relief. I showered and returned to my room. As I looked through my closet I noticed the one pair of jeans I had purchased just a handful of days ago. Reaching for the jeans made me feel funny on Thursday. Today, I picked them up off the rack without my compulsions complaining about it. I put them on and still there was no problem. I had to admit I liked the way they hugged my body. When I finished dressing I went downstairs for breakfast. Mom and Daddy were already up.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Daddy asked.

"I feel pretty good, I guess." It felt good to say that.

"You're wearing jeans? " Mom asked.

"Yeah," I replied. "They don't bother me now."

"Perhaps that discomfort is a gauge of your hunger?" Daddy suggested.

"Maybe. I did wear those pajama pants that first night."

I finished breakfast and then Daddy and I went to the Clinic for more tests.

Dr. Adelaide greeted us first and we discussed my new form. The first thing she asked me to do was the thing I did not really want to do. She wanted to see my new form. Reluctantly I complied – it only took eight minutes wearing nothing but a hospital gown to figure out how to do it – and she ran me through a series of tests.

"Totally Rad!" She exclaimed.  "I've, like, never seen such a totally complicated Twist. The good news is you are a metamorph, having two distinct forms, one bipedal and one snake-like, or, like, perhaps lamia-like. But lamia are like demons so you probably prefer snake-like. It also appears that you feed on a substance that doesn't exist in this dimension."

"What?"

"I know, it's far out." She said. I was finding her enthusiasm annoying. "When you, like, petrify someone something in its flesh totally interacts with the Darrington field, the quantum field, to create a vapor that is locked inside the stone. You mentioned that you could, like, change the pose of a bird. The glands we could not identify are what allow you to do that. They also allow you to release the vapor and absorb it into your body."

"What is the vapor?"

"I don't know, but it seems to build up in the statues you create, when it builds up to a certain level, it is released and the transformation is reversed. That explains why when you absorb some of the vapors from a statue the reverse transformation is delayed."

"Do you have any idea how I'm supposed to deal with the craving? Or find a ready supply of animals to drain?"

She paused for a moment. "No, but I think you need some time with Dr. Philips. That's enough experimentation here. Keep working with that friend of yours. His attempts to improve your control can't be a bad thing. Let’s go see Dr. Philips."

“Before we do, I heard you were a metamorph.”

“Tess, like, sold me out. Didn’t she?”

“Yes. Can you turn to stone now?”

“Sort of. I’m totally unaware when I’m stone. And it lasts between ten minutes and three hours and I have like no control over it,” she said sadly. “Oo, I should totally do it in front of you so you can like see if I have the same like lines inside me as people you petrify. Hang on. Let me stand over here. I can totally film myself turning to stone. Once you get a look inside me, just head on down to Dr. Philip’s office.”

Adelaide transformed into a statue. I waited a moment before opening my inner eyelid. She had all the same swirls within her as I had observed in my statues. I found some paper and wrote ‘Same swirls” on it and left the paper in her hand.

I had to ask Tess how to find Dr. Philip’s office. There, we chatted for a few minutes as I told him about being a snake. I don't remember how he did it but soon I was crying about turning into a monster permanently. He let me cry about it for a while before trying to steer my thoughts in another direction. His words were plain and logical and I guess exactly what I needed to hear.

"You need to find a way not to focus on the negative aspects of your twist. You'll figure out your need to feed and how to avoid transforming into your snake hybrid accidentally. You will." He said reassuringly.

"Now, have things changed in school?" He continued. "How were you received by your classmates?"

"Most of them seem more focused on my becoming a girl than my snakes or my trick. The jerks who use to pick on me still do."

"Let's get back to them in a moment. How do feel about being treated as a girl?"

"Well, when the other girls do it I feel included. When the boys do it, I feel like I'm just some walking collection of boobs and legs for them to ogle. I realize they're just doing what I'd be doing if I were still a guy and I have sympathy. For the guys who do more than ogle, I get angry."

"So, you're having the typical experiences of a typical teenage girl?" He asked.

"I suppose so."

"And the boys who taunted Gordon?"

"Still taunt."

"You have to stop letting them control how you feel about yourself. What they think of you is theirs to control. How you feel about yourself is entirely up to you." He advised. "You are bigger and stronger than you use to be. I'm not recommending violence, I would never do that. But, you should not feel intimidated by them."

From there we talked about my experiments with Elliot. I was caught off guard when he asked, "How do you feel about Elliot?" As I stumbled unable to answer he added, "How do you think Elliot feels about you?"

After moment I said, "I don't know." When he did not follow up that question with another, I continued, "We've been best friends for as long as I can remember."

"Is he like a brother to you?"

"Maybe." The word escaped my lips unexpectedly. Last week I would have said "Yes" immediately. Why had I replied "Maybe?"

The session ended not long after that. My head was swimming. How did I feel about Elliot? How did he feel about me?

Daddy and I left the Clinic in silence. I was very deep in thought and I guess he was giving me some space. About half way home I realized if I went home I'd have to deal with Elliot. I asked, "Didn't you have an idea for how I could feed that you were going to share? "

"Well, sure. You just looked like you wouldn’t be in the mood to do that now."

"No, no reason to put it off."

Daddy changed direction and about twenty minutes later we were in a parking lot. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you?" he began.

"I guess not."

"Are you sure you want to deal with this now?"

I nodded and got out of the car. We were behind an animal hospital. I had a bad feeling I should have paid attention to what he was saying. Though, I didn’t really hear him at the time.

Daddy opened the rear door to the building for me and called out, "Douglas!"

A voice replied, "Wait in my office."

We were in a hallway of nondescript doors. At the end of the hallway was a reception area. I could smell the distinct scent of many fuzzy animals in the air. There were occasional barks and meows. Daddy led me to the second door on the right and we entered.

The office was neatly kept, with two plush chairs facing a plain steel desk. Based on the diplomas and awards, Dr. Douglas Hauser was a renowned animal surgeon.

Daddy asked me again if it was a good idea to be here now.

I was vague in my nod and it wasn’t until the doctor entered the office that it occurred to me that they thought I would euthanize sick animals.

Like some monster.

Suddenly, now was not a good time to be here. "I've changed my mind, Daddy. Can we leave?"

Not hearing my whispered plea, Daddy introduced me to the doctor.

Douglas took my hand and said, "I'm a bit dubious about this my darling. I wanted you to meet an old friend of mine."

They led me to the next room where an old dog was sleeping on the floor. When he saw the doctor, the dog lifted its head and struggled to stand up on obviously arthritic legs.

"Duke, here is almost fifteen years old and I'm going to have to put him down soon because of the pain he suffers just standing like this," he began, a tear in his eye. "Your father has put into my head the idea of something better than taxidermy, which I loathe. Before asking you to do anything to Duke, I want to know that it will not hurt him."

"I've told you it didn't hurt," Daddy interrupted.

"You said being petrified doesn't hurt," the doctor explained. "I want to make sure the feeding doesn't hurt."

"I can't do that to a person," I stated. "It's too dangerous."

"Then, there's no solution to your hunger problem here. I won't allow my animals to suffer so some vain socialite can claim to have had a statue made of their old pet."

"How many people wanting to turn their sickly pets into statutes are there?"

"Once the first statue appears in one of their homes, they'll all want one."

"What will we do after everyone has one," I asked. "Fads don't last long."

"I'm sure we'll figure something out when the time comes," Daddy reassured me.

They looked at me expectantly. After a moment I said, "Okay. Where shall I petrify you?"

"Not here, not now," Douglas said. "We'll do that when I'm not on call. Perhaps tonight for dinner? Betty would love to see Silvia again."

"That's fine with me."

I just nodded and stood up. "Let's go, Daddy." I walked out. As I left I could hear the doctor ask Daddy if he was sure I was ready. Daddy admitted he wasn’t sure.

As I walked to the car, someone let out a wolf whistle at me. I spun around in fury, my head snakes flared out and hissing loudly at the man. He turned white as a sheet and for moment I thought I had petrified him. Then he screamed and ran off. I had not used my trick on him. I’d merely frightened him to near death with just a look.

I ran out of the parking lot towards a park and into a nearby woods. I ran until I could no longer hear Daddy's voice calling me back. When I stopped I was near some train tracks as they crossed over a stream.

I sat down, realizing Mom would probably be annoyed about the dirt all over my jeans. Too late to care. Several moments passed without me paying attention to them. A voice called out, "Are you a real gorgon?"

I looked up to see an old man approaching me. He was frail, poorly dressed, and I could smell him already. One of his eyes was milky white from an old injury based on the scar on his face.

"I suppose so."

"Heh, heh," he cackled. "Nope, I don't think so. If'n you were I'd be all statue-like already. You're just a girl with a weird hairdo. Must be."

"Maybe I don't feel like turning you to stone."

"Nope, gorgons hate all livin' bein's. They's ugly to the bone. And they'd never con-verse with a lowly retch such as me. Heh, heh. Nope. You're no gorgon, girly," he kind of danced in place at he made each point. "And you be too beautiful, too, girly."

I stood up, "Beauty means I'm not a gorgon?"

"Damn, you is tall, girly," he said looking like his neck hurt to look up at me. "Damn right, you too beautiful, though I prefer my ladies a smidge shorter. No offense."

"What if I weren't beautiful?"

"How?"

I turned around and pulled off my jeans.

"What you be doin'? I be far too old for you girly."

I snickered as the snakes showed him turning as if to look away, but he was definitely staring at my ass. With the pants off, I transformed into my half snake form. I turned back around. "Are you sure I'm not a gorgon?"

"Heh, heh, I still ain't no statue, girly. That's a good trick. But, you ain't no gorgon."

"That eye of yours works, right? "

"Heh, heh, yes, it do. Can you lower your head so I don't have to look up?" As I complied, he continued, "You might look monstrous, snake girl, but you ain't no monster. I ain't dead or made of rock. You don't hate all livin' bein's. In fact I bet you love a few, girly. And more than a few love you; I'd be a fool not to bet ya. What are you doing trying to convince a daft old man that you's a monster for anyway?"

"I didn't expect it to take so long," I joked.

"Heh, heh," he laughed as his laugh dissolved into a coughing fit. "It's too bad you ain't a gorgon. Petrifying can't be the worst way to go."

"I'm told it gets boring."

"Ya, I could see that. Heh, heh, told by who?"

"Just because you believe I can't petrify people doesn't mean I can't. It just only lasts about an hour."

"You see what I'm saying. What kind of monster petrifies only for an hour, girly?"

"I guess you're right."

"Medusa," a voice called.

I flattened out down on the ground. I don't know why and I felt silly almost immediately. "I should get going."

"Heh, heh, yes, you should. Me, too," he announced after looking at his unadorned wrist. "I got to go convince a man over on that ridge over there that marriage will be wonderful." And he walked off in the direction of the ridge.

I transformed and quickly put on my pants. I walked back to the park. When I saw Daddy's determined grimace as he searched for me, I turned to look for the old man. He was not where I expected to see him. He was at least a mile further away talking with a man.

Maybe he was Twisted, I thought.

"Medusa," Daddy called out as he started running toward me. "You had me..."

I cut him off with a gesture and gave him a big hug. "Yes, worried sick. I'm sorry about that. Let's just go home."

Caught off guard, he replied, "Um, okay." I stood there holding him for moment. "If we're going home, you'll have to give up this hug," he interrupted.

I let go and we walked back to the car. It was a longer walk than I expected. As he saw me looking around he said, "Didn't think you ran so far, did you? You were moving extremely fast. Not as fast as your mother, but you sustained a higher than normal level of speed for a relatively long time." He laughed, "I tried to run after you. But, I was gasping for air after a few minutes. That's why it took me so long to catch up with you."

"I had no idea," I replied.

"I don't want to jinx it, but running off actually seems to have helped."

"It kind of did," I replied. "I met someone who seemed to know just what I needed to hear. And he said it in manner that I was willing to listen to."

"What's his name?"

"Heh, I didn't ask."

Talk: Second Contest Entry

Some people have apparently submit many entries to the contest. Not sure that's a good strategy. But I have submitted two: Marriage Counseling and Who Am I? I will not be submitting a third unless I conceive, compose, and edit one in the day and a half.

Marriage Counseling was mentioned last week. Who Am I? was the story I started back in December when the contest was announced. I got to the middle and couldn't figure what to do next. So I decided I'd write something else. All the characters in Marriage Counseling had different names until shortly before I posted it. Couldn't have a Bryan and a Wendy in both stories, could I? Tom and everything after his introduction were written this past Friday/Saturday. I hope it makes sense. 'Tom?' you say. 'You read Who Am I already, right?' I say.

Who Am I? is the first real TG story I've written. It is "real life". No magic, no weird science, no interdimensional beings. Just reality and transitioning. And part of that contributed to my almost abandoning it. It was a far different story before I figured out how it ended. 

In any case comments are loved as always. Post them here or there. Big Closet uses "kudos" for likes so if you have an account there, please kudo both stories if you feel like it.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 8

Going to sleep queasy must have been why I had so many nightmares. One particularly vivid one involved me devouring people, my friends and family, like a snake would. I woke rubbing my jaw wondering if it could drop low enough to swallow a human whole.

I felt wrong. The queasiness was gone. But, something was off. I opened my eyes and saw a snake tail. I reached out to touch it and saw that my arm was all scaly green and that my hand was claw-like. The tail was definitely attached to me below my waist, far below my waist.

Panic building, I tore the sheets away from me revealing a thick snake body coiled in bed attached to my waist where my hips use to flare out.

I must have been screaming because suddenly my door was open and Mom appeared. She started to ask something but a second later her body had turned to stone.

My inner eyelids were open? Why couldn't I see the psychedelic colors that I normally saw? I touched my face. It was bumpy, scaly, and felt a bit longer than normal

The urge to touch Mom was great.  I could feel my coils twisting to start moving me toward her. The urge was like a hunger. I needed to feed on that delicious stuff inside the stone. I needed to drain her dry.

I needed to get away. I turned around so I could not see her but every snake on my head was staring at Mom. I opened the window. I grabbed a thick coil of my body and tossed it out the second story window.

There was an odd sense of falling while also being stable on the bed. I pushed more of my body out and was surprised when my tail touched the ground and there were still a few coiled loops in the bed. How long was my snake body? I slid out the window. The desire to grab hold of Mom and drink her vitality down almost got me to climb back in the window.

"Medusa?" Dad called out. "What did you do to..."

I let go of the window and dropped. My upper body landed upright, never touching the ground. I turned and slithered toward the woods behind the house. As I reached the wood line a bird crashed to the ground in front of me made of stone. I reached down without thinking and drank the bird's inner life force. I drained dry a couple more birds and some squirrels before I regained my wits. The squirrel statue in my hand tasted great. I had stopped before draining it dry. I put it down. My eyesight was slowly regaining the strange colors I associated with my trick.

I had little idea how far into the woods I had gone. I turned around by twisting my human torso, lifting it up and around with my snake body, and then pushing forward. My eye height was a few feet higher off the ground compared to my human form. My body trailed behind my torso at least twenty-five feet. It was as thick as my waist for a good ten to twelve feet then slowly tapered down to a few inches thick at the end of my tail. Thankfully, I did not have to think about moving. I just picked a direction and my snake body moved in that direction.

The nightgown I had been sleeping in was in tatters as the straps had broken and it had slipped down around my upper tail. I slid it all the way off and took stock of my body. I was green and scaly all over. My breasts were flatter and nippleless. I used my headsnakes to look at my face. I was no longer pretty due to the scaliness. My nose was less pronounced. My eyes had a yellow glow around them. There were fangs in my mouth. I wondered if I had a venom in this form. Even my tongue was forked.

I wondered if this was a form at all. Was this what I was supposed to be? A monster for real? No, I had to believe I was a metamorph. Anything else would be too hard to live with.

I picked up a pair of stone squirrels. The one I had not drained fully still had lines and swirls within it. The other was a uniform off-white. Returning to the first squirrel, I tried to turn off my trick. After a moment, I could not see the colors in the stone. I looked around. I spotted a squirrel about thirty feet away. I rose up on my body and lunged at the squirrel catching it... ugh, in my mouth. I opened my mouth immediately but not before a warm fluid drained from my jawline into the squirrel. I could feel the venom run along my gum line.

I looked down and the squirrel was lying at my... where my feet should have been. It was not moving. I picked it up with a clawed hand. It was alive but unable to move. I had paralyzed it.

Fascinated, it took a moment to remember I had just lunged thirty feet with amazing accuracy. And I had not turned the squirrel to stone. I guessed it was safe for me to be around humans again. But, I didn’t want to be seen like this. I didn’t want to be seen walking out of the woods naked either.

First, I tried to top on a few more critters. I wanted to be sure I was full. I didn’t drain them dry. But they would probably be statues for days. After another bird and one and a half squirrels, I just could not drink the sweet nectar any more.

I didn’t know what to do next. I looked at myself again and noticed I wasn’t a uniform green color. My skin had the strange tessellations of a snake’s skin. There were patches of light and dark green with copper colored tiles separating the patches. It was really quite striking. Though, at the time, I wasn’t happy about it. The sun was high in the sky and I realized I had no idea how so many hours had gone by. Mom and Daddy were probably worried. At least Mom should no longer be a statue by now. I slithered back to the tree line. I wondered how fast I was moving. It seemed very fast.

At the tree line I had to slither a few houses to the right to get to my backyard. From behind my house I could see that neither Mom nor Daddy had left for work. So much for sneaking in.

I was going to try transforming when I realized Mom had probably seen my snake body. Resigned, I gathered my courage and broke across the yard. I reached the house in seconds. I opened the back door to the screened-in breezeway and called out, "I'm home," as I entered the kitchen. My head was brushing up against the ceiling.

My voice was lower than normal, still feminine but with a bit of chain smoker in it.

"Medusa?" Mom cried out from the living room and an instant later she was in the kitchen. She pulled up short when saw me. "Oh, I guess I didn't dream it, did I?"

Daddy entered, "Medusa, what happened to you this morning?"

"Well, I discovered I need to feed."

Mom suddenly disappeared and reappeared holding out a pajama top "Could you put this on before you continue?"

I laughed as I took the top and put it on. "I think I also figured out why I have an aversion to pants." I rose slightly showing off my distinct lack of legs. I told them about my morning, about feeling queasy the day before, about the nearly dozen birds and squirrels permanently petrified in the woods. I also mentioned the bird I had drank from yesterday.

When I was done they scolded me for not telling them everything. But, they seemed to understand that feeling queasy the first day back to school could easily be confused with nerves.

The doorbell rang. Mom disappeared and reappeared. "It's Elliot. Should I send him away?"

"No," I replied. "Send him around back." I looked at the clock in dread. How had it gotten so late? How much time had I spent in the woods?

She disappeared again. She returned with a long robe. "In case you find yourself transformed and nude."

I waited a moment before going out into the backyard. Elliot came around the corner and stopped dead. "Medusa, what happened?"

"Let's head into the woods where fewer people can see me." I started telling him about my day. We only went a little ways into the woods before finding a small collection of stone wildlife. "I was afraid of that."

"What?"

"I told my parents I killed maybe ten little animals. There's seven or eight here and I know I stopped more than once to feed."

"Wonderful. You didn't ask me into the woods for privacy, or for freaky sex, but to find out how much you ate."

"Looking like this you still went for the sex joke?"

"Would you prefer that I run out of the woods screaming 'Monster'? Frankly, being called a monster all these years has obviously affected you deeply. What you never seemed to have learned is the monster isn't defined by its looks. It's defined by its deeds. You don't have a monstrous bone in any of your bodies. You regret killing these animals. A monster wouldn't care." He reached around my waist and hugged me.

I slid backwards and down so I could rest my head on his shoulder. And suddenly I was crying. My body was shaking. He held me tight. I don't know how long I cried. After a while I noticed he was talking.

"It'll be alright. Crying is good."

I felt comfortable. The next thing I knew I had picked my head up and kissed him on the lips.

He jerked his head back and put a finger to my lips. "Not like this," he chastised me.

"I'm sorry," I sniffled. "I forgot how ugly I look."

"You moron," he declared. "I don't mean like this in reference to how you look. I mean how vulnerable you are like this. How would I ever forgive myself if I took advantage of you?"

I cried again. I did not deserve such a friend. After a while I stopped crying. He picked up my head. "Do you want to go home or shall we resume our tour of the small animal statuary annex?"

I laughed. "I need to know how much I ate." We found four more small clearings with six to ten statues of bird, squirrels, and the occasional opossum, skunk, or porcupine. In the last clearing we found the remains of the squirrel I had paralyzed.

Elliot asked me how I caught the squirrel. I demonstrated by snatching a bird in flight with a powerful lunge. I ended up paralyzing the bird in the same way. "Feathers do not taste good."

"I would assume not," Elliot agreed. "We should head back. It's already after five. Are you bringing the bird back to time your venom? "

"I suppose,” I said. “These three I didn’t drain dry. I was in control when I only drank a little.”

“They’re probably safe here. You don’t know when you drained them so we can’t really learn anything from them.”

“Probably.”

We walked in silence to the edge of the woods. When I hesitated to leave the woods he asked what was wrong.

"I think I should walk the rest of the way."

"Okay," he said expectantly. After a pause, he added, "Should I look away?"

I nodded and said, "I don't know if I can switch back. I'm also worried about losing control of my trick as I change since I couldn't control it this morning."

"That was probably caused by your need to eat. I'll wait twenty feet away looking the other way so you'll be private, but not alone." He turned to walk away.

I said, "Wait, don't turn around."

"If this is when you devour me, I will be sorely disappointed. The clearing with the animal statues was where it was supposed to happen."

I tossed the robe over his head, "Just hold my robe so transforming doesn't damage it." As he continued away from me I added, "And if I ever need to kill you, I'll be sure to give you a genre appropriate death." I watched him walk away and sit down facing away. It was all up to me now.

I imagined myself as I was. I imagined transforming. I imagined I could be here all night though this body would not get cold. I tried imagining harder. I felt silly. I activated my trick. I tried visualizing how I looked now. I tried visualizing my human form. I still felt silly.

I tried visualizing me without form. I concentrated and it was like the world shifted. I immediately imagined standing here in the woods. I felt locked in place as my tail shrank, split, and turned into legs. My arms shortened and the hands lost their claws. I could feel my breasts fill out. My face itched.

When I could move, I called out,  "It worked! I'll be right there. Don't you dare turn around."

"I won't," he called back holding up the robe awkwardly behind him.

I closed the distance between us and took the robe. I turned around as I put my arms in the sleeves. I pulled the trim tight around my middle and tied the belt. "Okay, I'm at least decent now."

He turned around. "After all this running around, I bet you would like a nice hot bath. I'll run interference with your folks while you rush upstairs," he suggested.

"A quick shower will do if you want to wait for me," I countered as we headed for the breezeway back door.

"Okay," he said. He entered the kitchen first and began, "What we found in the woods was interesting and I'm going to tell you all about it while Medusa goes and gets washed up."

I entered and spoke as I walked through the room, "I'll be down as soon as I get the smell of the woods off me."

Elliot continued, "We found twenty-seven statues of small animals in the woods. She will need to find a better source..."

I couldn’t hear the rest of what was said. I didn’t want to hear it at all. I quickly entered the bathroom and closed the door. I reeked of dirt and moss. I turned the shower on and hurried inside. The water was cool and dirt was already puddling in the shower. I pulled a few twigs and leaves from between my hairsnakes. I tried to figure out how freaked out I should be over being a thirty-foot long snake-woman most of the day.

The soap was done clearing away the visible dirt. It did little to clean the guilt away. Twenty-seven dead forest animals. When will I need to do that again? Will I start looking for larger prey? There are a few dogs in the neighborhood. Would their nectar taste better?

Reluctantly, I turned the water off and dried off. Wrapping the towel around me, I crossed the hallway to my room and put on a new set of pajamas. I retrieved the robe from the bathroom and brought it down to the laundry room before returning to the kitchen.

Daddy was talking, "... can find a better supply of animals." He looked up as I entered. "How are you feeling, Honey?"

"Great physically," I admitted. "Morally a wreck and emotionally taxed."

"One out of three is a good batting average," Elliot quipped.

Daddy ignored him, saying, "I understand the last one and I suppose the first one makes sense. We need to discuss that middle one. What have you done that's amoral?"

"Killing indiscriminately," I pointed out, pacing around the room.

"That's not what you did."

"You weren't there," I cried. "I don't remember most of it. I just killed and ate and if you had been there you'd be dead. All of you!"

"You didn't drain me," Mom said simply. "You fled. You saved me from your so-called rampage."

"I almost didn't," I whimpered.

"Almost doesn't matter. Doing matters."

"We just need to make sure it doesn't get to the point of desperation like it apparently did this time," Daddy added.

"You said you were queasy yesterday morning," Mom began. "We need to see how long it is until you feel queasy again to determine how often you must consume this whatever it is."

"Fine," I said. "I don't want to think about it any more." I walked out the door to the breezeway. I entered the garage and plopped myself down at my work bench.

Elliot followed a moment later. He picked up the tape and handed it to me as he pulled the tape out and walked to the far side of the room.

"I don't want to do this," I declared.

"You don't know the plan yet," he replied, handing me the tape measure. "We, including the valley girl doctor at the Clinic, have been measuring your maximum range. That's the mistake. You need to see that you are only as monstrous as you allow yourself to be. We are going to work on your minimums. I believe that if you practice you can learn to use your trick selectively. In fact, I'm willing to spend a lot of time standing around like a statue so that someday you will be able to petrify a bird I am holding without affecting me."

"Seriously?" I asked. "You have a lot of unfounded faith in my abilities."

"That's what friends are for," he replied. "Now stand twenty feet away, kick on your trick and head toward me. Concentrate on not petrifying anyone, especially me. Visualize me remaining flesh and blood as you continue forward. You control the trick. It doesn't control you."

I waited a moment before submitting to the task at hand. I concentrated on believing my trick obeyed me and would not affect Elliot.

He continued the pep talk until he was cut off mid-sentence, petrifying in an instant. I clicked the lock on the tape measure and read the distance aloud, "Thirteen feet, four inches." I was flabbergasted. "You were right, Elliot!" I exclaimed.

I walked up to Elliot. I looked at his mouth head-on and from the side. I giggled. "Petrifying talking people leaves them with funny shaped mouths."

"It's good to hear you laugh," Daddy said, entering unexpectedly.

"I suppose it's just good to be laughing," I agreed.

"So what was this experiment?"

I explained the premise and initial success of the experiment.

"That's great," Daddy said. He waved his arm toward himself. "Let's take a little walk. Elliot will probably prefer that time passes quickly."

I followed Daddy out through the breezeway to the front yard and we sat down on the porch steps.

"I know Elliot is enthusiastic and willing to help. But, I hope that's all he wants."

I stopped Daddy right there, "Please don't. Elliot is well aware that I think of him as a brother."

"Good, good," he responded. "How about what I asked that first night. Anything to report?"

I thought about it for a moment. "It's funny," I began. "When you asked me to gather data on the other team, I didn't think it would be difficult to tell of my discoveries. Spending this morning as a half-snake hybrid makes how I feel now not only more palatable but also more natural. Being a guy now feels like the other team. I knew someday I might come to feel that way. But, I feel that way now. And while I could tell you what things are like, it feels awkward telling my Daddy about my body."

"I was afraid of that."

"You've spent the last few years drilling it into my head that the person I was may not be the person I become. Aren't you glad I've taken one of your life lessons to heart?" As he stared at me I could not help but giggle girlishly.

“It's every parent's dream come true. But, apparently, I should have also drilled in that being comfortable talking about the changes would also be good.”

I laughed. We talked some more. I found out we had an appointment at the Clinic tomorrow. Once Elliot was back. Daddy suggested we verify our findings by having him and Elliot standing in front of me while I tried not to affect one of them. I had decided to protect Elliot. Daddy was petrified at sixteen feet. When Elliot reached ten feet I closed my eyes and turned off my trick.

"I'm starting to feel a strain. I don't see the point of petrifying you twice tonight. Why don't you head home so I can get some rest?" I pleaded.

Elliot asked if I was sure I would be alright before leaving.

I went back into the house and found Mom in the kitchen wolfing down her bedtime snack.

I turned one of the kitchen chairs away from her and sat down facing away from her. I commented, "I wonder if how you feel about eating these extra meals is similar to how I should feel about devouring all those animals."

"How do you think I feel about eating so much?" She asked between bites.

"You always do it when no one is around. I've always assumed you would be embarrassed if someone watched."

"Is that why you're facing away from me? Even though I know you can see through your hairsnakes?" She laughed. "Turn around, Dear. I would prefer company to eating alone."

"But..." I started helplessly.

"I eat alone so that you and your father don't feel obligated to join me. My sisterquickly gained like thirty pounds in the first month after my twist because she thought I felt funny having to eat so much."

"I didn't know," I said, turning my chair around.

"Well, she swore us to secrecy when I had you. There are no pictures of her from that time any more." She got up and added more cereal to her bowl.

I learned more about how Mom's twist affected her life that evening than I had ever known. And I had thought I understood her completely beforehand.

Talk: I submitted a story to a contest

There's a new story up on BigClosetr.us for their 2024 New Year's contest. Per the rules of the contest, I can't post it here until the 14th. But, I'd like it if follow the link and read and, if you have an account there, comment there. Or comment here. I'll probably include the post here once I'm allowed by the rules.

I don't expect to win. There's already well over 100 entries. No idea how two judges are going to read them all in a reasonable time. There's no inanimate content in the story. Just a couple going to marriage counseling and a magic rock.

If I get my head together, I might have a second submission for the contest. A story with zero magic or science in it. Way outside my comfort zone.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 7

I woke up Thursday morning with a queasy feeling in my gut. I figured it was nerves: today was my first day back to school. I hoped taking a shower would help me get settled. I did my business in the bathroom and felt a little more awake. That seemed to help.

I felt the need to wear my other leather skirt and another crop top tank blouse. I managed to get my feet into sandals without feeling any pull from my pumps. I was going to have to buy more leather skirts. I got out my makeup case. I looked at my nails and they still looked good so I applied the lipstick as I had been shown. I didn’t have a mirror. I didn’t need one. I had a few snakes looking at my face. I also applied some eye shadow very faintly because it helped tie the lipstick into my the rest of my face. It took a few tries to get it just how I wanted.

Putting away the case, I went down to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Medusa," Mom said. "I'll have a plate of scrambled eggs ready in a moment."

There was a plate of bacon and some toast already on the table so I took a slice of toast and a few strips of bacon and combined them waiting for the scrambled eggs.

Mom turned around and put the plate down. "You look great, honey," she stated. "I like how the makeup looks. It's subtle."

"I was going for 'Hey, I wear makeup now but that doesn't mean I want to look like a clown.'"

"Well, it certainly meets that criteria. Now eat, your father will be here in a few minutes."

Just as I was finishing my juice, Daddy entered the kitchen. "I swear you look prettier each time I see you."

"Thanks, Dear," Mom interjected.

"I meant-- Oh, you look beautiful too, Dear." Daddy backpedaled. "I was just complimenting Medusa on her makeup."

"Thank you, Daddy," I said. Every boy wants to be their Daddy's beautiful princess. The queasiness returned.

Mom looked around the kitchen, searching for something, "Where's your purse?"

"Do I need a purse?"

"Look at the clothes you're wearing," she explained. "Where are you going to put your phone? Your wallet?" She zipped out of the room and zipped back. "I put your eye shadow and lipstick in here just in case you need to touch it up. Your phone and wallet are in here though we need to get you a wallet designed for a purse and not for a back pocket. Your house keys should be in here, too."

"Let's get going, dear," Dad announced as he got up. "You don't want to be late."

I added my house keys to the purse. It was a small, dark green leather purse – Mom called it a clutch – with a thin shoulder strap. I hung it from my shoulder and it hung down around my hip. "I feel awkward but I'm sure that's because it's just new."

"Yes, dear," Mom said kissing me on the forehead. "Have a good day on your first day of school."

"Compare it to the first day of school, that certainly makes me less nervous," I joked.

I got in the car with Daddy and he drove off. We arrived at the school shortly and I must have looked at Daddy oddly as he got out of the car. "I want to hear what he tells you," Daddy explained as we walked to the building.

I could feel every pair of eyes we passed looking at me. Whispers of who's that chick and what the boys and a couple of the girls would like to do with me reached my improved hearing. Not a single utterance of monster did I hear.

We entered the building and went directly to the front office.

A young woman working at the desk looked startled as we approached her. "Oh, hello. Are you a new student?"

"No, she isn’t. I'm Gregory Harrison and this is my recently Twisted daughter, Medusa," Dad introduced us. "We have an appointment with Mr. Jameson."

"I'll let him know you're here," she replied picking up the phone. ''He's ready for you," she said putting the phone down and pointing to his office door.

Mr. Jameson and Daddy shook hands as we entered and we were shown to a pair of chairs on this side of his desk.

He then sat down on his side of the desk before beginning, "Welcome back to school, Miss Harrison. Have you changed your name?"

"Medusa Harrison," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow at the name but just nodded, "I'll need your old student ID. We'll need a new photograph in order to issue a new ID. Ms Weatherswill help you with that when we're done here.

"Since your visit to the Clinic, have you noticed and changes in mood or personality?"

"No, none," I replied.

"Yet, you are just recently a sixteen years old boy who had an abrupt change in sex yet you are already wearing makeup and a tight leather skirt?"

"I find the makeup weird at times too," I calmly explained. "Wearing it is a conscious decision on my part in order to fit in. My parents always told me a day like this could come and that I should embrace whatever changes came. So, I'm embracing being a girl to make it easier to fit in. As for the skirt, I have a compulsion again wearing fitted pants or leggings. Neither of these things are part of my mood or personality."

"Okay," he said moving on. "Any incidents with your trick I should know about? Accidental firings or anything like that?"

"I have not turned anyone to stone who did not ask me to do it first."

"Someone asked you to?"

"Yes. Curiosity is a funny thing, I suppose."

"Who?"

"I don't believe I have their permission to share that information with you."

"Fair enough," Mr. Jameson replied. "This person or persons you have used your trick on. Did the duration vary from the hour Mrs. Rhymes spent petrified?"

"It did not. And I have not had any incidents of breaking any mirrors since breaking a bunch of mirrors and cameras at the Clinic."

"How about the venom found in the, uh,..."

"I call them hairsnakes," I replied. "And no one has volunteered to be bitten by one. I know as much about that as is probably written in your report."

"The reason for my concerns, Miss Harrison, is the psyche profile I received from the Clinic indicates that you are essentially still mentally the same as Gordon Harrison. I know Gordon had many problems with believing the football players were always picking on him. I want to make sure you will not seek any revenge again those boys or any other students."

Daddy laughed disdainfully. He was obviously upset, "I love how you worded that. You really believe Gordon was somehow delusional about those boys picking on him?"

"I have no proof that any incidents ever happened."

"And how much effort did you put into finding out?" He continued. "There are cameras all over this campus. Did you ever use them to determine if Gordon and the other boys were in the locations at the time the incidents took place?"

"Well, no, Gordon complained so many times at first that we saw no need to continue investigating."

"Brilliant," Daddy leaned forward. "Be sure to use just as little diligence should someone report being petrified or you'll be hearing from my attorney."

"Now see here," Mr. Jameson puffed up in anger. "I won't have you threatening me."

"And I won't have my daughter threatened by anyone." Daddy reached into his jacket pocket. "Place this letter in Medusa's file. She is not to be questioned by anyone regarding any disciplinary event without me or my wife present for the ENTIRE meeting. You'll find it is signed by the Superintendent and has a file number for when it was placed on record with the Board of Education." He turned to me. "I expect you to behave yourself. But, if there's trouble say nothing until we arrive. Now, go get your student ID taken care of. I'll finish up here."

"I wasn't done," Mr. Jameson complained.

"Yes, you were," Daddy shot back as I left.

I went back to the receptionist about getting a new ID. She took me to a room with a camera hooked up to a computer. She had to adjust the height of the camera before she could take the picture. I made sure many of the hairsnakes were facing the camera when she took the picture. A few minutes later I had a laminated student ID with my new name and picture. I was also given a late note for getting to my first period class late.

I stepped into the thankfully empty hallway. I hurried to my first class and entered. Every eye in the room was locked on to me. The sounds of gasps, expletives, and prayers to God reached my keen hearing.

"What the fuck!"

"What is that?"

"Check her out."

"Snakes!"

"Those legs!"

Over the comments and a couple literal screams of terror, Mr. Hoagland's voice pierced the din. "Settle down, class. It's just Miss Harrison." He announced, "I assume that is a late note in your hand." He was talking to me, now. Curling his fingers in a come here gesture.

"That's Gordon?"

"She's hot!"

"Snakes are freaky."

"What color do you think her nipples are?"

Visions of petrifying the whole room and smashing them all with a bat conflicted with the desire to flee, or shrink to the size of a flea. I stepped toward the teacher and after an eternity handed him the note.

"Miss Harrison twisted Tuesday afternoon. Are you changing your name?"

I nodded mutely and he waited for me to reply, "Um, Medusa."

"Splendid choice. Please take your seat and let's see if we can salvage part of today's lesson."

I had not thought about how much taller I was now, nor how much of that height was located in my unusually long legs until I tried to sit down in one of the school desks. I turned sideways and backed into the seat. Since my knees would not fit under the desk with my feet flat on the ground, I ended up crossing them off to the side, kind of sitting side saddle.

"Those sure are long legs," someone whispered and suddenly I was reminded that all eyes were watching my every move.

Mr. Hoagland cleared his throat and resumed the lesson. My snakes confirmed everybody was staring at me. I knew what the boys were thinking. I knew exactly what some of them were thinking. I couldn’t understand why I was of such interest to the girls.

When class ended a few people tried to get my attention at once, but only one of them called me Medusa so I turned to face Stacy Kellor. She was a pretty brunette known to lead a group of girls known as the Fashion Police. I was suddenly very nervous about being noticed by her.

"Medusa, I've got to know," she declared leaning close to my face. "Is that lipstick?"

"Yes," I replied. "My natural lip color is orange-colored."

"Oh, that would be so wrong," she nodded. "Did you pick that color?"

"I picked the shade after the store clerk suggested I needed something."

"Well done. I approve," she said turning to go.

I wasn’t sure what to make of that conversation but I didn’t have time to ponder it.

I arrived on time to my next class and caused less of a stir, catching half the class off guard as I entered and the other half as they entered. Still, the comments I overheard were a mix of sympathy and male hormones. I managed to seat myself more gracefully this time though actually sitting side saddle still seemed awkward.

Jeff Rogan, sitting behind me, looked nervous. I turned and said, "They won't bite, unless you're poking at them."

"Th-that's good-d to know," he sputtered. "Could you k-keep them off my desk?"

I gave him a sly wink and turned back around. I swept my hairsnakes up in my arms and pulled them to the front leaving one of the longer ones behind and hovering off his desk, watching him.

Mrs. Garcia, a tiny slip of a woman, entered and began her lesson.

I don't know why I did it. Jeff was neither friend nor enemy. Catching glimpses of him squirming amused me during the boring class.

Without warning a bunch of my hairsnakes thrust themselves outward on my right side, intercepting a spitball fired at me.

People on that side of the room reacted in shock, a couple girls and one guy shrieked. Several guys laughed. The teacher exclaimed, "Miss Harrison, what is this outburst?"

I reached up to one of the hairsnakes and pulled the spitball from it. "Some juvenile thought it would be funny to provoke my hairsnakes with a spitball," I calmly replied. "Not realizing that the bite of my hairsnakes is poisonous, I suppose they could not understand how foolish their actions were."

Mrs. Garcia looked to left side of the room, my right side, and asked, "Who did it?" After a moment with no response she pointed out the three boys who reacted by laughing and myself and told us to stay after class.

Wonderful. I got to stay after class because of those idiots. I had my hairsnakes keep an eye on them for the rest of class.

When class ended the room emptied until it was just the five of us. "You three," Mrs. Garcia started. "Apologize to Miss Harrison for shooting a spitball at her."

Two of them mumbled something that sounded like "Sorry, Medusa." But Frank Myers said, "I didn't shoot anything at the freak."

"Fine. Instead you can apologize for calling a fellow classmate a freak."

"I call it as I see it," Frank continued. "It doesn't mean anything. My mother has horns. I call her a freak to."

Mrs. Garcia was getting mad. "Just because you can insult your mother at home does not mean you can insult people at school. Do you understand?" She was growing taller and more muscular as she seethed with anger.

"Fine, fine," Frank said backing away from Mrs. Garcia. "Medusa, I'm sorry I called you a freak."

"Get out of here," Mrs. Garcia growled at the boys.

They ran out of the room. I was going to follow them but Mrs. Garcia held up a quickly shrinking hand. "Idiots," she mumbled. "I don't like to hulk up like that but sometimes these kids need a virtual smack. It's not like we wanted to twist like this."

She wrote me a late note. "Don't think I didn't see you messing with Jeff's head, my dear. If he has a problem with snakes you of all people should cut him some slack."

I thought about denying it but instead nodded, "I will."

She also nodded and pointed at the door.

Showing up late to third period was not as shock-inducing since word of my twist had gotten through the school's grapevine. Still, hearing guys talking about me like I was a list body parts was both off-putting and enlightening. Just a few days ago I would have been one of the guys ogling this body if this had happened to someone else.

Sitting down this time was smoother than my first two attempts. I was sitting next to Jenny Wu in this class and realized I wasn’t intimidated by her. She was just another pretty face, like me. Of course, her boyfriend was that prick, Tommy Radner.

Professor Zintaught this math class. Zin was neither male nor female, though he preferred male pronouns for simplicity. He looked like one of those fabled Area 51 aliens with the long head and big triangular eyes. What made him strange was how he spoke without his face moving in any manner and the pitch of his voice varied by several octaves often after each word without rhyme or reason.

My hairsnakes were on edge, moving around like there was something they did not care for around them. It was most likely Zin's voice. Nothing I could do about that.

When class ended I went to the bathroom, the correct room, thankfully. After doing my business, I stepped out of the stall and saw Jenny brushing her hair. As I went to wash my hands, she said, "I don't know how those snakes feel, but they have to be better than brushing long hair."

"I think they are heavier than hair and drying between them is slow since a blow dryer isn't good for the skin." I explained. "They definitely have some useful traits, but that is wiped by their shock value."

"Are they really that shocking to someone who's met Professor Zin?" She said with a laugh. "You're getting stared at because you're gorgeous."

"And I used to be a guy."

"That also contributes," she agreed looking me over. "Nice skirt. It's also surprising to see on you because of who you were. And that blouse, guys don't bare their shoulders normally."

"For some reason I feel really uncomfortable in pants or when my shoulders are covered."

"I'm not sure I should say this but I'm sorry about Tommy."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about," I replied, as the atmosphere became unwelcome with the change of topic. "I've got to get to class," I said as excuse and fled from the bathroom.

I hurried up the backstairs to get to my next class when I actually bumped into Marie.

"Oh, hello," she said. "Are you new at school?"

She had not heard about me? "No, I'm Gordon, Medusa now. I've twisted."

"Oh, now the rumors make sense," she blushed. "I heard Gordon turned into a gorgeous she-monster. I couldn't understand why they would say that. You were never a monster. Are we still on for some sculpting after school tomorrow?"

"I'm still looking forward to it," I replied. We said our goodbyes and I hurried to my next class.

The muttered comments at the start of class were becoming fewer and fewer and the lustful stares were increasing. This was another reminder that I had spent more time focused on my trick and not enough time on my becoming a girl. How do girls get use to getting those looks from horny guys?

Lunch was not even close to the time of day when I could relax that it use to be. The comments about me while I waited on line were deafening.

"That snake is staring at me."

"I heard she has a short thick snake between her legs."

"I want to run my hands down that green stripe on her back."

"That's sick."

"Oh, those legs..."

"I bet she's stuck up now."

"She petrified Jenny in the bathroom. Just swung the stall door open and froze her with her pants down then walked out all mad about something."

"Probably get Tommy next."

"She dresses like a slut."

"Yeah, isn't it great?"

A voice rang over the din, "Freak ain't getting me." Tommy strode past those on line and stepped in front of me. "Heard what you did to Jenny, Freak," he poked at my chest.

"I spoke with her. Whatever else you heard was a lie," as he poked at me a second time I caught his finger in my hand and twisted his arm backwards. "If you want this broken, say something else I disagree with." I stared him in the eyes, my hairsnakes staring too.

He locked eyes with me and I ended up looking away first. He smirked triumphantly and didn’t say a word as he walked away. This was far from over.

Finally, I made it to the front of the line. I bought my lunch and made my way toward my usual lunch table. Elliot, Pete, and Jim were already there. I sat down and said, "Can I not be stared at here?"

Pete, a short boy I have known since kindergarten, looked down and then back at me. "Sorry, dude, but you’re hot."

"You find 'dudes' hot now?"

"You know what I meant," Pete responded. "Calling you Medusa sounds funny. How about we call you Meg?"

"Meg?" I asked confused.

"Well, it's almost short for Medusa and it's better than Sue in place of Sa."

Jim, who had been silent up until now, added, "And I don't think you want to be known as Deuce."

"Probably not," I agreed.

"Do they bite?"

"If I let them, or I get distracted when someone messes with them." I leaned in and whispered, "Sometimes they have minds of their own."

"Your twist has to be ten times worse than mine," Jim added, holding up his hands. They were at least twice as big as they should have been. He use wear a hoody jacket and keep those mitts in the front pockets of it before he realized no one cared about his big hands and feet. Of course, it helped when some of the girls started a rumor that a usually unseen body part had been enlarged similarly. He had ended up being the target of a dare and had enjoyed helping the girls verifying their theory. Since then he didn’t mind if people saw his hands.

"Only ten times?" Elliot asked. "He's a girl now and looks like a mythological being. That's got to be at least eleven or twelve times as bad."

I had been nodding until Elliot pulled that swerve on me. "Hey."

"Don't leave your mouth open like that," Jim warned. "Unless you want to see if you can handle me."

"If you want," I said coquettishly. "But I'd probably end up petrifying you and breaking that beast of yours off." I added making a snapping-in-half motion with my hands and saying "Oops" in a high pitched voice. "Accidentally, of course."

Elliot and Pete burst out laughing.

Recovering quickly, Jim retorted, "It might be worth it, babe."

And the rumors that he was a bit too cocky were also true. "I hope that was a joke," I demanded.

He looked like he was going to tense up, but Pete put a hand on Jim's arm. "Of course, we assume you still like girls."

I shoved a forkful of food in my mouth and looked down at my tray.

"You like guys?" Pete whispered too loudly.

"I don't know," I replied. "I haven't had a chance to even think about my sexuality."

"I think that's the polite way of telling us you are one hundred percent virgin," Jim concluded in a soft voice. "Haven't checked out the equipment yet, have you?"

"Would you mind?" I was getting upset. "There hasn't been time."

Elliot interrupted, "Let's change the subject."

"You should just slap this dweeb in the face," Stacy Kellor declared. She and two members of her clique circled the table.

Melody Richards, a tall, redhead bent over and picked up my tray saying, "You were right. She does need our help."

Stacy took my arm and I found myself being taken to another table. I muttered something about the boys being my friends but the girls ignored me. I was sat down between Melody and the third girl, Tess Anders, while Stacy sat across from me. Trays of food were waiting for the other girls.

They ate politely as they spoke. "The only intelligent thing your friends said was you need a nickname. Medusa is a great name, but it's easier to call out, 'Hey, Meg.' in a crowded room."

"How did you know that?"

"Much better than Deuce," Tess extemporized.

"My people are everywhere."

Melody laughed. "It's her trick. She can pay attention to like a dozen different conversations at a time."

"You're Twisted. I had no idea."

"And I'd prefer to keep that knowledge quiet," she glared at Melody. "Who helped you buy your clothes? You're mom?"

"Is there something wrong with my clothes?"

"No," Tess interrupted. "That skirt is almost killer. It's just obvious the clothes were chosen by someone older."

"Can I interrupt?" Asked Melody. "I've got to know. Third day as a girl and wearing a sleeveless blouse and skirt? What's up with that?"

"I said we shouldn't grill her," Stacy complained. "Though, I am curious about this myself."

"I was raised knowing I might twist into someone very different than I once was so I'm just embracing the new me." I proclaimed, then added after a pause, "That and I have a strong compulsion against pants."

"That doesn't explain the lipstick."

"Looks hot," I said.

They laughed with me.

It was weird acting like one of girls almost. As weird as it felt being treated like one of the girls. I kept waiting for a prank to happen, ending what I couldn’t help assume was a facade at first. The prank never came. These girls seemed to be genuine in their offer of friendship.

They asked me about my trick and what happened to the nurse. Other than that the conversation was mostly about clothes. Stacy made sure talk about boys was minimal. I guess she did it for my sake.

After lunch, it was time for biology. The lab didn’t show any signs of my twist having taken place here two days ago. Even the mirror over the eye wash was replaced.

Ryan, Jared, and several others guys who had been there for my twist entered and made a point of bumping into my desk as the walked to their seats. Ryan made sure to have my attention as he glared angrily at me.

There were none of the comments about my appearance like before. People seeing me for the first time saw the way Ryan and his gang were staring at me and decided to stay out of it.

I was becoming upset and worried that I might start to cry. None of my friends, old or new, were in this class and I felt a little trapped. My hairsnakes started to hiss quietly and I had to calm myself down before they got any louder. I noticed the queasiness I had felt earlier was back as well.

Mr. Heinz entered and started the class without seeming to notice the tension in the classroom. I paid little attention to the class. I was watching Ryan and his pals instead. They were sitting all around me and dividing my attention among that many snakes made it hard to listen to Mr. Heinz. I was startled when the bell rang and Mr. Heinz hurried out of the classroom.

The boys rose from their desks as one and were stepping toward me when a voice called from the door, “Meg! Let's go, you don't want to be late for gym.” It was Elliot at the classroom door.

I packed up my books and raced out the door into the crowded hallway. Ryan's troop looked unhappy with my escape.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 6

There was a soft knock at the door. I snapped my inner eyelids shut and called out, "Come in."

"Is it done?"

"No, I think I'm doing a different experiment, now."

"Oh? What happened?"

"Look at the bird," I said. "When I petrified it, his head was turned to the right at a sharp angle. I didn't like the way it looked so I turned it back forward."

"You turned the stone neck forward?"

"You know how I see these lines and swirls inside the stone?" I ask rhetorically. "Well, while lightly pressing against the side of its head, I imagined those lines which twisted with its neck to straighten out. And slowly its head turned back forward. It looks natural, doesn't it?"

"Sure, I couldn't tell it was modified."

"Well, the experiment now is to find out if the bird survives my messing with its anatomy while its made of stone."

"Right," he seemed to understand. "For all you know, you snapped its neck or ruptured a bunch of cells in its neck. Hopefully it worked or an hour from now you might have a bloody mess on your workbench."

"I know."

"Okay, time for the next experiment. You go stand where I was facing the garage door and I'll sneak up behind you."

"Why don't I just stand over here again?"

"Because there's a lot of reflective metal over here. There's none over by the door. If you remember the myth, Perseus observed Medusa in a polished bronze shield. Your trick shatters glass mirrors but it doesn't affect any of the metal in this garage."

"You think I could petrify myself in a metal mirror?"

"We can test that tomorrow."

"We can?"

"All we need is a toaster or some other shiny appliance."

"I guess I shouldn't use my trick in a kitchen."

"Stop stalling," he said giving me a playful pull. We walked over to the far side of the room. "Turn around and hold out your hand," he instructed. He put the tape measure in my hand and started walking away from me. "Shout out when I'm over sixteen feet away."

"That's sixteen," I called out. "I have my trick active. Start walking forward when ready."

"Okay, here I come," he started. "The sneaky thief is creeping up on the girl with the luscious body and snakes for hair."

"Ell-- ee-- ot!" I sternly intoned, emphasizing each syllable of his name individually.

"Shush, I'm narrating," he joked. "What malicious deeds ran through his mind? What salacious needs ran through his loin?"

"I'm warning you."

"Would she be startled to find him breathing down her neck or would some quantum force-- Oh," he said and was suddenly cut off. There was silence for a few seconds.

"Elliot?" I called. I called his name once more before looking at the tape measure to my right, moving the lock into place. I turned off my trick and turned around. "Seven feet, three and three-quarter inches. About the same distance either way." I had a sudden realization. "Elliot, we are idiots. We didn't test when someone is petrified head on. Just because the mirrors break at around 16 feet doesn't mean head on I would petrify someone sixteen feet away. Or fifteen feet, or fourteen feet. Any distance greater than seven and a quarter feet is purely speculation on our part."

I was pacing back and forth in front of him when the door to the garage suddenly opened.

"Oh, there you are," Daddy began as he stepped in and stopped. "I thought Elliot went home?"

"I never actually answered that question," I explained.

"And why is Elliot a statue?"

"He said I was making him stiff too many times," I joked. I had no idea that was about to jump out of my mouth.

"What?"

"I'm joking. We were experimenting. He insisted I need to know everything about my trick to know my limitations."

"Well, that sounds surprisingly wise coming from Elliot. It doesn’t explain why he’s crouched like that?"

"We only did two tests, since it takes an hour once he ends up like this."

"He was here through dinner?" Daddy asked.

"He was standing over there facing away."

"Okay. Now explain these experiments."

I explained the experiments in detail involving Elliot. I did not mention the bird at all. At the end, I asked, "Speaking of experiments, last night when I petrified you, how long did it last and how long did it seem to last?"

"It lasted about an hour as apparently is usual. You mother was in here talking the whole time so it felt like an hour went by before I could move again. Also, like Elliot said, I had no idea I was made of stone. I just couldn't move."

"Oh," I exclaimed. "I wonder if this time Elliot will feel the whole hour going by since we're talking in front of him."

"Probably," Daddy answered. "When he can move again get him into the kitchen. I'll have Mom reheat something. I will not send him home this late without giving him supper."

"Thank you, Daddy," I said sweetly.

Nonplussed, he gave a perfunctory, "You're welcome. Carry on," he added as he left.

I felt ambivalent about using such a sweet, girly tone on Daddy. I really didn’t want to become one of those girls who wraps their father around the finger. I felt a little dirty pulling that voice on him. At the same time, I didn’t want to get in trouble for omitting the fact that Elliot was a statue in the garage while we ate.

I turned to look at him and said, "You're always making my life interesting. I'll give you that."

My comment was met with stony silence.

I turned Elliot so he was facing my workbench. Rather than just wait, I experimented with my hairsnakes. I poured an assortment of screws and bolts out of a jar onto the workbench and attempted to sort them into piles using my snakes. With my eyes closed, I instructed the four long snakes directly, shifting my focus from snake to snake. I was talking about how I was thinking about naming the snakes and other trivialities just to keep Elliot aware of how much time was passing.

Eventually, the bird was flapping its wings and taking flight again. I had forgotten all about the bird. I followed it over where it was perched and managed to get a hold of it. It appeared to be turning its head from side to side without a problem.

"I've got food for Elliot when he's ready," called Mom from the kitchen.

"It'll be a few more minutes," I called back.

I returned to the screws on the workbench. Before the bird interrupted I had started getting some of the snakes to work independently of my explicit commands. I concentrated fully on the task and lost track of time because when I was done, Elliot was standing there video recording what I was doing with his phone.

"You have got to see this video," Elliot said, hitting a few buttons on the camera.

"Inside," I said pointing toward the house. "Mom insists on feeding you before you go home."

"I know," he said as he handed me the phone. As we sat down inside and I started the video.

"So, now you're a scientist?" Mom asked Elliot.

"Mad scientist," he insisted. "What's point of being a scientist if you can't take over the world?"

"Well, Medusa's trick is dangerous so be careful."

"We were just testing her limits. She can affect people she's not looking at or who aren't looking at her within seven feet."

"Did you speed this up?" I interrupted.

"No," Elliot exclaimed. "Your snakes were moving that fast. When I could move, I whipped out the camera because you were obviously not paying attention to me. I know you started out with just a couple of the snakes working but how did you coordinate so many at the same time."

"What are you talking about?" Mom asked.

I paused the video and slid the slider back a moment. Then I handed the phone to Mom.

"I didn't coordinate them. They joined in on the task on their own as they understood what to do. I would have to correct some of them as they didn't all realize there was a difference between screws and bolts. But eventually, I was just supervising them without really giving directions."

"I've got to show this to your father," Mom said zipping out of the room with the phone.

"How long did it feel like you were stuck?" I asked.

"Almost an hour. When you were talking and practicing with your hair, time crawled along, probably at what is normal speed." He continued in a quieter voice, "I didn't see what happened when you were doing something with the bird. I didn't see any blood either."

"The bird seems fine." I started whispering, "It was turning its head normally. It was looking up and down. I'm not going to mention this to Mom and Dad yet."

"If you insist," he replied.

Daddy entered, "Honey, this is amazing. This is your phone, Elliot?" He handed back his phone as Elliot held out his hand. "Who knew how useful those snakes could be?" He added as he exited.

"Yeah, every teenage boy wants to have snakes for hair when they grow up," I muttered.

"Hey, none of that, Missy," Elliot admonished. "No one is going to mistake you for a teenage boy. And you know you enjoy finding out what you can do with those snakes."

"Well, maybe a little," I admitted.

"Oh, my!" Elliot exploded.

"What?"

"You just twirled a snake around your finger like it was long hair."

I looked at the snake in my hand and let it go, "No, I didn't."

Elliot laughed. "You're right. No, you didn't. I'm crazy."

I giggled like a school girl and was shocked by having done so.

Elliot looked down at his plate. "No comment, here."

I resisted the urge to run from the room. "Tell me, Elliot," I stated calmly. "What color do I turn when I blush?"

He looked up and laughed, "You actually are a deeper orange or rust at the moment."

"I thought so."

"Tomorrow, I have just the thing for testing your trick on yourself."

"Oh, I just remembered," I interrupted. "On my way to biology yesterday, I ran into Marie Applebottom and she wanted me to do a bust for her in clay."

"Marie Amplebottom was talking to Gordon Harrison?"

"Don't call her that."

"When were you supposed to start?"

"She's giving me a ride home Friday afternoon."

"Who knew Gordon was a heartbreaker?"

"Oh, please," I sighed.

"Do you still like girls?"

I didn't answer immediately. "I didn't think I was going to be dating Marie."

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know. I haven't seen a guy I've gotten all flustered about. I also haven't seen a girl who did it either. Of course, other than going to the mall, I haven't seen a lot of people either."

Elliot got up from the table. "Well, don't sweat it, my good friend." He reached out to give me a hug and did so when I didn’t resist him. "I've got to go home. You usually clean up the table, right?"

I rolled my eyes at him as he scurried out the door. I cleared his plate. I went out to the garage and scooped up the screws and bolts and put them back where they belonged. The bird flew by. I forgot he was still flying around in here. I opened the overhead door and chased him out of the garage.

In my room, I took off my shoes and got undressed. I found my closet emptied of most of my old clothes and the new clothes we bought today hanging in their place. I picked up the pajama bottoms I had worn last night but it did not feel right to wear them. I went back to the closet and picked out a sleeveless nightgown that had caught my eye at the mall. I put it on and went to the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth. The hairsnakes did not tire as quickly tonight and I managed to use them to do the whole job. I also removed my eye makeup and lipstick after Mom knocked at the door on her way by and reminded me to do so.

I didn't feel like watching television or playing video games tonight. So I decided to turn in early. A parade of students reacting to the new me wandered through my mind as I tried to fall asleep. I imagined most of those reactions being poor.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 5

We returned from the mall around two o'clock. As we walked past the garage I was surprised to see the bird statue still sitting just outside the back of the breezeway. As I hurried up to my room to drop off my shopping bags, Mom called out to me. "Don't even think about wearing that cream colored dress in that filthy garage. And don't get any makeup on it when you take it off."

I kicked off the pumps and removed the dress carefully. I put on the first top I could find. It was a dark green, cropped tank top with a zipper in front. I grabbed the tight leather skirt. It felt really good to pull the skirt's zipper up my backside. I put my snakeskin pumps back on.

I knew Mom would need to do some carbo-loading so I hurried out the front door and around to the backyard. I picked up the still petrified bird and went into the garage.

Making sure the door was shut, I opened my eyes to look at the bird. The colored lines and swirls inside the bird were very muted. If I had not seen them brightly before, I might not have noticed them at all now.

Before I could speculate about why the bird was still petrified. There was a knock at the door. I closed my inner eyelids quickly.

"I'll be sure to knock first, Mrs. Harrison," a voice called out. It was Elliot. "Can I come in?"

"It's open," I announced.

Elliot opened the door slowly. When he saw me his jaw hit the floor. He just stood there in shock.

"If you are just going to stand there like a statue, I can turn you into the real thing."

"Gordon?" He managed to ask.

"I think I'm going to use the name Medusa. It's more appropriate than Gordon."

"You are smokin' hot," he looked me up and down. "And so tall. That skirt is so... why are you wearing a skirt and those shoes?"

"You're allowed to stare uncontrollably for only a few more minutes," I joked. "As for the skirt, I have some kind of compulsion against wearing pants. And the shoes, they were a compulsion too."

"Bummer," he commented as he finally stepped into the room and closed the door. He walked straight up to me, "I can't believe how tall you are. In those heels you must be six foot nine or so." His eye level was even with the top of my cleavage. He made a point of looking straight ahead and said, "I can't complain about the view." With a laugh, he sat down on the low bench he always sat on. "It's really true. You had your twist. There were rumors that you turned someone to stone. People are going to believe that rumor when they get a look at you."

"It's true."

"You're shittin' me."

"No, it's true," I said, pointing at the bird.

"Holy, fuck," he exclaimed.

"It only lasts an hour or so. Or at least it did when I did it to Mrs. Rhymes."

"Wow, how'd she react to being turned into a statue?"

"It's funny. She thought she had only been unable to move for about five minutes." I said. "Let me tell you about my day yesterday.” When I mentioned how I discovered I could see with my hairsnakes, he interrupted.

"You can see with those things?"

"Yes, it's like black and white and last night I found out they can see in the dark."

"And I can tell you can control them. How well can you control them?"

I had a couple of the really long snakes extend themselves. "I used these two last night to brush my teeth. Doing that tired them out pretty quickly but I'm sure it looked cool. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

"I decided to chance looking at myself in a mirror hanging in the biology lab. And that's when I discovered I had this face."

"You know," Elliot interrupted. "You don't look anything like you use to but I know I've seen that face before."

"It does seem familiar," I agreed. "I don't look like any of my cousins or aunts. While looking in the lab mirror, I noticed there was a closed inner eyelid under my normal eyelid. I was looking through it. While squinting to see it, I made it twitch and open and suddenly the mirror shattered. These little guys jumped in the way of the flying glass. One of them was nearly sliced in two but it's already regrown its head.

"Looking around the room with those lids open is psychedelic. The colors are more vivid and there are colors that make no sense. I accidentally petrified a bird sitting on the window sill outside the biology lab. And that was when I realized I wasn't dangerous."

"What's it look like when you petrify something?"

"It's odd. The color seems to drain out of them and leaves behind the dull stone statue. It only takes a second. Oh, and when I look at a statue I've made, I can see lines and swirls inside the stone. I don't know what that means.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yeah, some doctors from the Spiral Clinic arrived and asked me a bunch of questions. Then, they took me to the clinic and asked me even more questions for a few hours. When I was done with the last doctor, she asked me to petrify her."

"She didn't."

"She did. According to the receptionist, the doctor is a multimorph and she probably had me petrify her so she would gain another form she could change into. Although I don't know why someone would want to turn into a statue." That last comment made me think of my parents and I just shook my head.

"What's with the head shake?"

"Nothing."

"You lips say, 'Nothing,' but your snakes look embarrassed."

"They do?"

"No, I can't read your snakes, yet. But now I know you do feel embarrassed," he laughed. "So spill it."

"I wasn't going to mention this, but Daddy last night—"

"Daddy?" Elliot asked in a tone mocking how I had probably said it. "You sound adorable saying, 'Daddy.'"

"Now, I am embarrassed," I said. I must have been blushing and that made me curious what color I was. "Last night, my father," I overemphasized, "asked me to petrify him."

"Did he say why?"

"He said something about needing to know what happens when I cause someone to be petrified so that if he needed to hand down punishment over my misuse of my trick he would be familiar with what being petrified felt like."

"And you thought this was bullshit, why?"

"As I left the room I ran into Mom heading to the garage with a camera."

"No way."

"You know how she goes fast? She once told me it thrilled her to move around other people standing still as statues."

"I think the only thing worse then finding out about your parents kinks would be finding out your parents don't have any kinks."

"That's very comforting," I laughed. "Where was I?"

"You were leaving the clinic."

"Dadd-- Dad picked me up from the Clinic and we went home. I had dinner and then I was sent to go take a bath because Mom said I probably had soot in my hairsnakes. That was the first time I had a big mirror to see my whole body with. I'm just going to call the bath sensual because even if I go into detail, you will read more into it than actually happened regardless and I figure you may as well have your little fantasies."

"Thanks, I think," Elliot replied. "Did you go while in the bathroom?"

"Oh, yeah, I did. It wasn't very interesting. In fact, it wasn't very different aside from having to do it sitting down. Oh, and having to wipe afterward."

"Nothing's there to give a good shake."

Ignoring that comment, I continued, "Afterward I spent time in front of the mirror practicing getting these guys to do what I ask. When I got back to my room I put on some pajamas Mom bought while I was at the Clinic. Eventually, I went to bed and woke up this morning. Today was a five hour shopping spree at the mall."

"Are you wearing lipstick?"

"Yes, it goes with my nails," I said with my voice pitched up higher than normal as I twinkled my fingers at him.

Elliot started laughing hard, "Woah, that was girly."

"Well, I've always known I was going to twist and that the person I was would not necessarily be who I became. I need to embrace my girlihood."

"I can embrace that for you."

I made my hairsnakes swing around and glare at him.

"That's intense, dude." He leaned back.

"I'm afraid I have to be one of those girls that friend-zones you. Don't expect benefits."

"Awww, you're no fun," Elliot moaned. "But seriously, you never struck me as someone who would be happy to explore his feminine side this easily."

"I'm not or I wasn’t. It's just if I don't just go for it I get the feeling I'd end up curled up in my bed sobbing all day."

"Do you need a hug?" he asked. Something about his body language seemed genuine.

"I don't know."

He got up. "That means you need a hug," he demanded reaching out to me. "C'mon, no funny business. You need a hug."

He held me. I tensed up waiting for him to do something stupid. But, all he did was stand there with his hands holding my back.

"Loosen up a little Gordo. If you need to cry, you go right ahead."

I raised my arms and he let go immediately. "Thanks, Elliot. But, I don't think I'm ready for being held like that."

"Like what? I was just being a friend. You're the one who friend-zoned me." He smiled. "Can I touch a snake?"

"Sure," I said, floating a long one to him.

He held his hand out and let the snake curl around his hand once. He rubbed the back of its head with his other hand. "Feels like a real snake. Do they eat?"

"I have no idea. I certainly hope not. I can't imagine how these short ones would be long enough to digest anything." I could feel some of the snakes drifting toward Elliot. "I think they like being rubbed like that."

"Can you feel it?"

"Distantly. If a bunch of them were as mellow as the one you're holding, it might feel nice to me. All I know is that one snake is felling mellow."

"So what it's like to have big boobs?"

"You would ask that," I replied.

"Yeah, but consider how long we've been talking and I'm only now asking about having boobs."

"Is that restraint or is the rest of my twist just that much more interesting."

"I'm going with restraint only because it sounds more mature."

"Yeah, right, I believe that." I mocked. "In any case, the answer I'm sorry to say is I don't know. They feel nice, not that I'm inviting you to check yourself."

"Awww."

"And they are kind of heavy. I was disappointed last night when I couldn’t sleep on my stomach comfortably like I use to. I haven't internalized having them yet. They're still 'these things on my chest'. I'm guessing someday they'll be 'my breasts' but I'm not there yet."

"I assume that's also the answer to your other feminine anatomy."

"Yes," I replied noncommittally.

Elliot looked like he was going to press the point but decided to drop it. There was an awkward pause until he suddenly looked all around the room and jumped up. "I've got it."

"Got what?"

He went over to a shelf and pulled the sheet off the bust I had made a few months ago. "That's who you look like," he exclaimed pointing at the bust.

I walked over to the bust and looked at it. I picked it up and held it up beside my face and asked him, "Seriously? Do I look like this?"

"That bust is your twin sister who had snake reduction surgery."

I laughed as many of the snakes hissed.

"Why are they hissing?"

"They don't like it when they feel threatened. They lack a sense of humor." I put the bust down on the bench nearby and studied it again. "I guess I do look like this."

"Your twist must have pulled your look out of your subconscious. That's so cool."

"Then why am I orange and green? And scaly?"

"You aren't scaly."

"I'm not bumpy. But there's definitely a scaly pattern in my coloration."

"In your coloration? What are you a puppy?" He asked. "You actually worry that you're some kind of monster, don't you?"

I flared my snakes into a big headdress. "Don't I look monstrous?"

"Squeal about your lip gloss and shiny colored nails again," he deadpanned. "That was monstrous."

"Okay, I'm not a monster. Just don't offer to hug me again."

"A change of topic seems in order. What did the Clinic have to say about your tricks? You glossed that part over."

I described the various tests Dr. Adelaide conducted, finishing by saying, "They were surprised by my trick. Very few Twisted can directly affects others without touching them."

"Can you petrify multiple people at once?"

"I don't know," I realized.

"Do your targets have to look at you and do you have to look at your targets in order to petrify them?"

"I guess so."

"Which one? Both? Was that bird looking at you?"

I thought back to petrifying the bird and it was about to fly away from me so how could it have been looking at me? "No, the bird wasn't looking my way. Oh, the doctor measured the distance at which my gaze broke mirrors and it was just under sixteen feet."

"Medusa?" Mom called out from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mom," I called back after opening the door to the breezeway.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Is Elliot staying for dinner?"

"Tell her, 'No'," Elliot said.

"He said, 'No'," I repeated. "I'll be there in a few minutes." I closed the door."

"You need to find out if you affect people looking away or standing behind you."

"At some point."

"No, let's start finding out now."

"How are we going to do that?"

He stood up and grabbed the measuring tape from a shelf and handed the roll to me and told me to stand by the door while he walked to the other side of the room holding the end. "How far apart are we?"

"Over nineteen feet," I read off the tape.

He turned around away from me, still holding the end of the tape measure in his hand, over his shoulder. "Turn on your trick and start walking toward me. If I turn to stone, stop walking toward me and record the distance. If you can affect people not looking at you we'll find out the range at which that works."

"And you'll be a statue for an hour."

"It'll only feel like five minutes by the time you get done with dinner. Besides, at some point you're going to zap me. May as well be on my terms the first time."

I sighed. "Okay, it's on," I said opening my inner eyelids. "Eighteen feet."

"Oh, that's good," he said. "It's like a countdown. If I don't petrify at the range the doctors said, try concentrating on petrifying me."

"Sixteen feet, so if you had a mirror facing me, it would have shattered about now," I commented. "Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten. I just noticed that strange psychedelic effect I usually have when my trick is active isn't doing anything to make you look weird. Nine, eight." And it happened. One second, there was nothing unusual and then suddenly I could see all these lines and swirls on Elliot's body and a split-second later the color drained from his flesh and he turned to stone. I snapped the lock on the tape measure, which read seven feet, two and a quarter inches. I put the tape measure down and walked over around to the front of Elliot and laughed. His head was tilted upward and slightly to the right. His eyes were closed and his mouth was puckered up for a kiss. I bent down a little and briefly kissed his stony lips. "I'll see you in an hour."

As I turned to go, I noticed the bird and reactivated my trick. The lines and swirls inside the bird were definitely regaining their strength and vibrancy. Closing my inner eyelids again, I left the garage, leaving the light on in case I could not get back in there before Elliot returned to normal, normal for him anyway. I went to the powder room and washed my hands. In the kitchen I sat in my usual seat.

"Did Elliot leave?" Mom asked. "I didn't hear him go."

Daddy interrupted, "Elliot was here? How did he react to the new you?"

"He's very supportive," I replied and rushed to keep the topic away from Elliot's whereabouts. "Of course, he can't stop flirting with me and I find that a bit annoying. On the one hand, he said I'm smokin' hot but he's still Elliot. We've done a lot of things together. He's like a brother to me. And to hear him using double entendres about me is odd. For example, when I tried to describe what having breasts feels like, he joked about feeling them himself. If any other guy were to make that kind of crack, I'd probably want to deck him. But, I know Elliot was just trying to treat me like I was one of the guys still."

"What are you going to do about it?" Mom asked.

"Nothing," I replied. "I'm hoping he's just as confused about how to act around me and that we'll fall into a new rhythm eventually. I mean, I hope he'll reach a point where he doesn't feel the need to use the 'If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me' jokes any more."

Daddy cleared his throat and changed the subject, saying, "You'll be going to school tomorrow. The Clinic cleared you and your principal wants you to report to his office before first period. I'm going to drive you there in the morning. Be ready at 8:05 sharp."

"I only get one day off for twisting? Totally unfair!" I complained. "What's the principal want?"

"He is probably going to tell you he doesn't want find any statues temporary or otherwise on school grounds." Mom said. "I know when I went back to school I was told there better not be any high speed running through the halls while I was attending school."

"It's normal," Dad said. "Anyone with a semi-dangerous trick is given a warning to remind them to behave." After a pause, he said, "I can't believe the clothes you are wearing, Medusa."

"Gregory!" Mom exclaimed.

"It's okay, Mom," I stated. "Sometimes I can't believe it either. Besides, Daddy hasn't heard about my issues with fit pants and sleeves."

"Some kind of compulsion?" He asked.

I nodded. "I think we all were expecting to see me in a bunch of T-shirts and jeans. But, I just couldn’t stand to wear anything on my arms or anything wide on my shoulders. And I tried those tight fitting joggers and I just couldn't stand to pull them higher then my knees. Fitted pants were very irritating. I also seem to be drawn to leather and other animal skins."

"That doesn't explain the makeup."

"No, it doesn't," I admitted. "I'm just doing what you said: embracing the new me."

"Well, that's wonderful," Daddy exclaimed.

The conversation became a store by store description of our day. Daddy interrupted to see my fingernails up close and to see me walking in my snakeskin heels. After dinner, I had to clear the table and fill the dishwasher. Another chore only given a one-day reprieve after being Twisted.

Afterward, I returned to the garage. Elliot was still a statue. I glanced at the clock on my phone and guessed he still had another five or ten minutes. I walked over to him. The Clinic said I was stronger than normal. I tried to turn Elliot around. With a little effort, I had him facing my work area. I sat down on the stool next to my workbench. I could see how the tall stool would normally be hard to sit on in a tight skirt, but I was so tall that I could keep my legs together while sitting on the stool with both feet on the floor. I took out my phone and started the video recorder running.

A few minutes later, color seemed to flow into Elliot and he was no longer made of stone.

He opened his eyes and looked around. "That was freaky, dude," he stated. "How did you turn me around?"

"I just did," I replied putting down the camera and holding up an arm in a muscle pose. "I'm not as weak as I look. What was it like?"

"Rhymes is right. It's only because you told me I would be turning to stone that I believe I was stone." He stepped forward and retrieved the tape measure as he spoke. "I just felt like I couldn't move and it only felt like it lasted five minutes or so."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"I don't think so. Why? Did you grope me or something? I did feel you touching my arms just before I could move again. That must have been when you were turning me around." He glanced at the tape measure. "Your trick affected me a little over seven feet away, looking the other way, with my eyes closed. That seems to mean that you can petrify people who aren't looking at you. Now we need the opposite test."

"The opposite test?"

"Will someone walking up behind you become petrified if you are using your trick facing the opposite direction?"

"Do we have time for that? Don't you want to get home for dinner?"

At that moment, the bird on my bench regained its color almost instantly then it stumbled forward on its feet. It regained its balance and took flight.

"What time is it?" I demanded.

"Almost 7 o'clock," he replied looking at his phone.

"Really?" I thought about what time I came downstairs. "That was a little over fourteen hours."

"Fourteen hours? I thought you said it only lasts an hour."

"It does unless I mess with it." We watched the bird circle the garage and then settle down on a high shelf. I turned my attention back to Elliot. "Nobody else knows this, but my palms glow when my inner eyelids are open. Or maybe they always glow and I can only perceive the wavelengths necessary to see the glow when my inner eyelids are open. I touched the bird and nothing happened. Then I thought about my glow while touching the bird.

"Suddenly I felt warm all over and I felt comfortable and energized. I don't know how long I was in contact with the bird but Mom called me at that moment and I was startled. When I looked at the bird with my sight again, the lines and swirls were faint, barely visible. And afterward it took the bird fourteen hours to return to normal."

"You say you felt energized."

"Yeah, I felt good all over like I'd woken up from a great night's sleep and quickly downed a couple of energy drinks."

Elliot paused, "I don't know how to make this comment without potentially freaking you out but that sounds like you were draining the bird's vitality like some kind of vampire."

"I know," I nodded. "I'd been trying not to think about it. Is there a point where the bird would permanently be a statue? I don't know if I want to know."

"You have to know."

"You volunteering?"

"No, the bird is," Elliot said getting up. "I'm going to go outside. You do what you do to the bird and then drain it dry and then find him a nice perch."

"To spend eternity."

"I doubt the garage will last that long."

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"Of course it isn't. It's one of mine," Elliot joked. "But seriously, you need to know everything there is to know about yourself."

"All right. Go outside and close the door firmly."

"Call me in when you're done and you have the safety back on your eyelids," he said as he left the garage.

I got up and snatched the bird from the shelf. There were advantages to being really tall. I calmed the bird down before startling it. As it was about to take wing, I petrified it again. That scent of nutty ozone filled my nostrils. I turned the bird this way and that. His head was turned funny. Oh, well. I opened my inner lids again and looked at the bird. The lines along its neck reminded me of muscles. I placed my hands gently around the bird. Before concentrating on my palms, I evaluated the look of the bird with my sculptor's eye and wondered if he would look better with his head turned a little. I placed a hand on the side of its head and imagined the lines inside the bird were less curved, straightening on center while pushing gingerly on its head. The bird's head turned, facing how I intended.

I had just reshaped stone as easily as I would sculpt clay.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 4

When I woke up I couldn’t remember falling asleep. It was still dark according to the clock even though I could see clearly. I felt wide awake so I got up. I used the bathroom and went downstairs.

Mom was in the kitchen looking like she normally did in the morning, painfully thin like she was about to waste away. She barely grunted at me as she struggled to lift a box of cereal. I rushed over and helped her pour her first bowl. She nodded gratefully as I poured the milk. She was already spooning it into her mouth rapidly, though to her it must felt like it was going slowly.

Since she did not like being watched when she had to load up on food, I excused myself. I went into the breezeway and looked outside. I saw a bird not far away. Looking around to make sure I was alone, I flashed my inner eyelids open and close quickly, catching the bird as they were unfurling their wings to take flight.

I stepped out the door and brought the bird into the garage, setting them down on my work bench. I opened my inner eye and really examined the lines and swirls of color only I could see. This bird was more vivid than the other bird, the lines more dynamic. I grabbed a drawing book from the shelf and it suddenly clicked. The swirls were the bird's underlying musculature. The lines were possibly veins and arteries or nerves. I could see the petrified anatomy of someone I petrified. I could also see a faint glow emanating from my palms. That desire to touch the bird was back and I knew somehow I should place my palms against him.

I needed to know what this was about. I placed my palms on the bird's chest and back as those were the flattest parts of the bird in this pose. Nothing seemed to happen for a moment. I concentrated on my palms when suddenly I felt a surge of power. The glow on my palms brightened. The crazy display of colors became more rich. I felt a little warm all over.

"Medusa!" Mom called.

I released the bird and snapped my eyes shut in case she was coming in.

"I made pancakes. Come and eat," she continued.

"Be right there," I called back. I got up and looked at the statue. Since I didn’t want to leave it trapped in the garage an hour from now, I picked it up and set it down outside facing away from the house.

I went to the kitchen where Mom was looking fit, rather than deathly ill.

"You're up early," Mom noted.

"Yeah, I'm not sure why," I replied as I sat down at the table. "I feel very awake this morning."

Mom sat down in front of a huge stack of pancakes and laid out her plan for getting me a new wardrobe. As we talked Daddy arrived and ate a couple pancakes before heading off to work. When he left, Mom got up too and gave him a kiss goodbye. "I'm going upstairs to find you something to wear to the mall," she told me.

I finished my breakfast and cleared the table. Having one's twist apparently only got you one day off from your chores. When I went back to my room I found a jogging outfit on the bed. The top was basically a jacket with a zipper and the bottoms had a simple drawstring waist.

"Mom?" I called. "Don't you want me to wear anything under this jacket?"

She zipped into my room and said, "Normally, you would wear a sports bra and a T-shirt or tube top of some kind under the jacket of a jogging outfit. But, you’re going to be taking off and putting on that jacket so many times today, you will be glad you aren't wrestling with pulling a shirt over your hairsnakes every time you do." When a few of them hissed, she added, "See? Even they agree."

I had no reason to protest even though I felt like this was a bit risky. Was I a prude?

"Besides," she continued. "It'll make you look a little frumpy. Your head is going to call a lot of attention toward you. You don't need your body doing it too on your first excursion to the mall, do you?"

"Well, isn't being stared at something I need to get use to?"

"You will have a whole lifetime of guys and some gals gawking at your boobs and long legs, dear," she said with honest sympathy. "And unlike most girls your age, you haven't had fifteen years of training, learning what it's like to be looked at like a prize to be won by creeps and gentlemen alike. You’re not only gorgeous, you’re also exotic. You've seen yourself in the mirror. Wouldn't the old you drool over the sight of you, hairsnakes or no hairsnakes?"

"I wouldn't even try to talk to me if I were Gordon."

"No, most guys would consider you out of reach," she continued with disdain. "But you know which classmates would pursue you, and probably will pursue you. What do those guys have in common?"

I thought about who the school players were and realized where she was going, "They're all jerks, far more interested in themselves than the girls they date."

"Thankfully, you are aware of the problem. But, has it sunk in that you’re now playing the game from the other side now?" She wondered. "You handled being ostracized because of your looks very well. And I'm sure that at first, your current looks will continue to put some people off. But, you're very tall, thin, curvy and have big boobs. The boys at your school will eventually find your hairsnakes normal and after that they will only see you as a hot babe. Go to the mall frumpy while you can. There's no need to rush into looking your best when you have nothing at all to wear."

I felt overwhelmed by the foresight and understanding Mom was displaying so I pulled her into a hug. It was oddly comforting even though I towered over her. "Thanks, Mom," I choked out.

"You're welcome," she replied stiltedly, perhaps not expecting me to express my thanks like this.

We separated and I said, "I don't know where that came from. You never really gave me a talk about boys before. Not that I needed one. Um. Relationships, that's it. You never talked to me about relationships between adult partners before."

"I don't know what to say. I would have stepped in if I’d witnessed any misogyny from you," she replied. "I guess I always thought of that as your father's department."

"Daddy was always so distant," I explained. "Last night, I heard about his best friend growing up. I was the longest story I've ever heard him tell about his youth."

"Daddy?" Mom asked. "I’ve never heard you call him Daddy since you were like three years old."

"I don’t think I’ve thought of him as Dad…" – I had to pause not to put the "Eee" at the end of Dad – “since he picked me up at the Clinic."

"He never speaks about his youth. The fact that he told you the story yesterday is amazing." After an awkward pause, she joked, "If this is how you react to a talk about boys I can't wait to see how you react when we have the full feminine hygiene conversation."

* * *

There were not a lot of people in the mall, but I was turning every head. I heard a little child asking his Mommy why that lady has snakes on her head when it wasn’t Halloween. In fact, with my heightened hearing I could make out more of the conversations left in my wake than was comforting as several of them involved young men posturing with one another at how they hoped I would make them rock hard. I suspected they wouldn’t be the last guys to make that joke about me. Some also speculated about what they would find at the top of my long legs.

We arrived at a specialty lingerie shop. The old me would have been beet red at the thought of going in here, worried that he would be kicked out at any moment. Today, I was just glad to get out of the open part of the mall.

"Oh, my gracious me," the older saleswoman exclaimed as she caught sight of me. "You are just stunning. And far more out of proportion than most girls."

"What do you mean?" my mother asked.

"They won’t bite will they?" she asked as she reached toward my forehead with a tape measure.

"If I want them to," I said. "Go ahead, it’s safe." I held my hairsnakes at bay while she measured from near the top of my head to my waist and from my waist to the floor.

"For a girl your height, your waist should be six inches lower and your diaphragm should extend another couple inched down. Here and here." She said putting one hand on my thighs and the other just above my belly button. Not to mention your narrow waist. You are going to have a rough time finding clothes that fit," she explained. "Since you aren’t wearing a bra I’m guessing you twisted recently?"

"Yesterday," Mom said. "She’s bigger than me and since she’s so tall I figured she should get herself measured first."

"All women should get themselves measured, Deary," the lady said. "And every few years get your size rechecked since gravity is not your girls’ friend. Now let me see about the young lady. I might need my step ladder to reach over your shoulder. She managed to take measurements in various directions around my chest. She declared me a 34D and called that a normal size. When I mentioned that I did not think the cup would be so high, she explained that cup size goes up as the chest diameter goes down. "Your upper ribcage is nearly as narrow as your tiny waist. A corset is going to love you, dear."

She handed me a dark emerald lacy bra and pointed me toward the fitting area. Mom had been right about wearing something easy to take off and put on. I unzipped the jogging jacket and laid it aside. My mother gasped. "What?" I asked.

"Your back, have you looked at it?"

"Not really."

"Your skin has that orange hue to it but down your spine starting from your hairsnakes, the color deepens to a rich green stripe about a couple inches wide."

The woman got a large hand held mirror and angled it so I could see my back. "The way the colors blend is very striking," she commented.

"I didn't think to look at my back."

"Shall we get back to your front?" She asked. After I nodded the woman put down the mirror and stood behind me. She told me to bend over. Then she showed me how to get all of my breast tissue into the cup before standing up by literally reaching into the cup of the bra and pulling my boobs into the cups. Though she did it with the casual air of someone who would say, "I've pulled a million boobs into bras. They're just boobs," they were my boobs and my boobs had not been handled in such a manner before.

When I stood up I was shocked at how much the bra caused my breasts to thrust forward. She made a few minor adjustments to the straps and then asked how it felt. "That is so much more comfortable than going braless."

She showed me how to work the hooks and then I tried on a couple more bras for fit. We ended up buying several green bras, a couple orange bras, and a couple sports bras. I wore one of the green bras out of the store. It felt that good. I could not believe the price of a bra. As we left I asked Mom about where the money would come for this.

"A friend of your father’s suggested we open a savings account as a contingency for an unusual Twist. You were about four at the time. There’s quite a bit of money in that account so we can easily afford an entirely new wardrobe. Hopefully, there will still be something left in the account when we’re done."

"Clever."

"And if you had never needed it, we'd have vacation money we could use once you went to college."

"Was I invited?"

Mom immediately pointed to our next destination, "Next, everyday wear."

At the next store we tried to find me normal clothes but the jeans weren’t available for girls with my narrow waist and long legs. We tried some normally knee-length skirts that barely made it down to the middle of my thighs. I was not ready to wear skirts that short. The blouses felt like dresses since some of them also reached down to my mid-thigh.

We had nothing but underwear and bras when we went into the shoe store next. My feet at least were only slightly on the high side of average, meaning they looked dainty on my large frame. She picked out a pair of sandals that looked okay, a pair of sneakers, and then I saw them: snakeskin pumps. I needed to have snakeskin shoes.

Mom thought I was crazy, "Those must be five inch heels. You’ll break your neck in them. And you really don’t need to be taller."

"But, they look so good and they don’t come in a smaller height."

"Gor-- um, Medusa, you are not ready for stiletto heeled shoes."

"Let me try them on," I begged.

"Fine," she relented handing me a box in my size.

I opened the box and let my fingers run up and down the shoe. I was already wearing socks from trying on the other shoes so I slipped the shoe onto my foot. It was a perfect fit. I got the other one on and stood up. I had thought I was tall before but adding another four or five inches to my height was unbelievable. I could see over everything in the store.

I took a few tentative steps without falling and became emboldened. After just a few stumbles, I was walking around the room with a casual ease. When I returned to the chair I had started from, Mom was just staring at me awestruck.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

"I have no idea," I replied. "But, I am curious." I reached for a lower, chunkier heeled shoe in my size that was just leather. I put them on and walked around feeling less confident. I wobbled more and was taking the occasional baby step. "It’s the snakeskin. I must have an affinity for it, or a compulsion."

"Well, would you wear those pumps to school?" She asked. "That’s the important question."

"I guess so," I relied. "Daddy said I need to be true to who I’ve become."

* * *

We left the shoe store with a pair of sandals, dark brown flats, a pair of sneakers, and my snakeskin pumps. From there we were headed to another clothing store when I stopped in front of a boutique shop with a dress in the window that caught my eye. It was white, voluminous, and sleeveless with lots of draping.

"I want to try that on," I told Mom.

"Really?" she asked incredulously. "That's a very dressy dress. You couldn’t wear it to school."

"I need to try it on."

"Okay, let's go in."

She followed me inside. Many of the dresses in here were wonderful to look at. I was cringing on the inside at the thought of wearing a dressy dress. I guessed it was the draping that was setting off my compulsion. Draping in sculpture always fascinated me and now I was attracted to it in clothing.

While I was gawking, Mom found a saleswoman. "This is my daughter Medusa. She just twisted."

"You have wonderful skin, my dear," the woman said reaching to shake my hand.

Taking it, I said, "I want to try on the white dress in the window."

She took out a measuring tape. "Oh, dear, I'm afraid that dress wouldn’t look good on you. That one is designed to raise the level of one's hips and you don't need that at all. Why don't you try this one. It's more a cream color and should complement with your skin tone." She flipped through a few dresses on a rack before pulling one off in my size. It was gorgeous. "Follow me to the dressing room."

I would have followed her anywhere. In the dressing room I removed my jogging suit and even the hairsnakes cooperated to get the dress over my head. It was similarly draped and had just one wide strap of flowing material going over my left shoulder. In the mirror in the dressing room, the dress flared slightly below my hip making my torso look longer. A golden clasp sat at the shoulder holding two separate straps on the same side. The two pieces of fabric ran down my chest, cupping each breast separately creating a peek-a-boo window between my breasts. The dress stopped just slightly above my knee. Most of my upper back was also exposed. It was a bit disconcerting. But at the same time I loved the look.

"Are you okay?" called my mother.

I stepped out of the dressing room and over to a three-way mirror.

"Oh, honey, you look amazing in that dress," Mom declared. She started to tear up. “You should be wearing one of the orange bras though. It wouldn’t show through the front as much.”

"Yes, she does," added the saleswoman. "Do you see how this ruching here seems to pull your hips down?"

"I love it," was all I could say. "Are they all this fancy? I don't think I could wear this to school."

"To school? You mean like a prom?" asked the saleswoman.

"No, I mean to everyday classes," I replied hopefully.

"My dear, these dresses are meant to be evening wear. A girl your age should be wearing lighter, less busy clothing."

"But all the tops felt like short dresses and none of the pants fit my long legs."

"You went to a normal clothing store, right?" the saleswoman asked. "I have another store here in the mall that has similar tall fashions as we have here but they are casual wear instead of formal wear. Why don't you head over there and try on some clothes?"

"I had no idea those two stores were related," Mom stated.

After purchasing the cream colored dress, we went to the other store where we were greeted by another saleswoman who seemed to be expecting us. I immediately noticed a leather skirt. It was long and narrow and I just had to try it on. Mom insisted I find a top before going into the changing room. I had several tops, skirts and a summer dress by the time I went to the changing room.

It turned out I had a thing for leather, like the snakeskin pumps. But, the real reason I didn’t like the other clothes was not because I needed draping. It was the sleeves. I felt uncomfortable in any top or dress that had sleeves or wide straps. Spaghetti straps and strapless tops were comfortable. I also didn’t like tight pants. Baggy pants like the jogging outfit were tolerable. I just didn’t like having fabric tight against my inner thighs. I also seemed to like clothing that pinched at the knees. The summer dress was functional but I liked wearing one with a mermaid style. While most of my tops were sleeveless, I discovered I liked shawls. Most girls layered jackets over their tops, I was more likely to layer a shawl over mine.

"This did not turn out as I expected," Mom said as we took a break in the food court. "I expected to be buying you a bunch of jeans and T-shirts, just cut appropriately for your body. The only denim in here is a tight skirt."

That was one of my favorite skirts because the opening at the knees was the narrowest of all. I guessed I was going to be a good girl since I liked to keep my knees locked together.

"I also expected to just buy T-shirts and jeans," I agreed. "I don't feel as weird about buying dresses and skirts now that I've been trying them on."

"Well, normally I’d suggest a trip to the hair salon but that's one aspect of being a woman you won't get to enjoy," Mom said half-jokingly. "How about a nail salon to do something about those sharp nails?"

"You just want to see me with nail polish on my fingernails."

"That too," she admitted. "C'mon, it'll be fun. I thought you were embracing the new you."

"I knew I never should have told you that."

When we got there we were lucky to get an immediate opening. A woman older than I expected showed me to a chair. "Well, look at you, do you control those things?"

"Mostly," I said trying to sound unsure of myself.

"Oh," she had been reaching for my hands but jumped back.

"Don't scare the woman," Mom admonished me.

"They listen to what I tell them to do but they can act on their own."

The woman finally took a look at my nails and made ticking noise by drawing air between her teeth, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, these nails are wonderfully long but the shape is scary. Do you want me to reshape them?"

I could feel discontent forming among the snakes, "Well, I guess so. I don't want to hurt anyone with them." The snakes grew louder and were definitely hissing.

The woman let go of my hand. "I've seen this before. The thing is, I'm guessing you just twisted. When a twist makes this kind of specific change to things like hair or nails, changing them can cause problems. Now, how about we just give them some color and leave the shapes alone."

As she said this the snakes stopped hissing, although a few different ones seemed to be against the coloring. Though they did not hiss as vehemently.

"It's too bad you aren't wearing any makeup that we could coordinate the color with," the woman said.

"Make up," Mom exclaimed. "I almost forgot."

"I'm not so sure," I stated.

"Oh, what young woman doesn't like makeup?" the woman asked.

"The kind who can shatter mirrors with a glance," I replied.

"Really?"

"Oh, I forgot about that too," Mom admitted.

"There's a lot of mirrors here not shattering," the woman said nervously.

"Well, no one's poking at my eyes."

"Okay, you could still wear lipstick, blush... I was going to say foundation but your skin is almost flawless so you don't really need it. Still, there's lots of makeup that doesn't involve poking at your eyes. An eyebrow pencil could give you a bit more definition above your eyes. Would that be safe?"

I sighed. "Yes, that all sounds safe. Stuff that lines the eye could cause a problem."

"In that case, there's also eye shadow," the woman added. "Though your eyes really don't need enhancing." She turned her attention to my hands. "I'm going to put a dark green polish on your nails and then put a thin silver streak down it. I think pulling those colors out of your friends there will pop, especially if you can get a matching lip gloss, or perhaps a few shades darker. Just make sure it's a pure green, not something found in leaves, like a holly green."

"I'll go with whatever you think works," I accepted.

She started working on my nails, buffing the edges. If she hovered her hands over clippers or scissors my hairsnakes would hiss. At one point she commented, "Can they see?"

I closed my eyes and said, "Point at something." When she did, I told her she was pointing at my mother.

"You can see through their eyes? Wow, that is one major twist."

"You don't know the half of it."

"I think I do," she whispered, leaning in close conspiratorially. "I heard a rumor that someone at the high school was turned into a statue and is now hidden in the basement so no one will find out. Any truth to that?"

I looked at Mom who shrugged then nodded. "Very little," I admitted. "The school nurse tried to check my eyes while I was unconscious after my twist. And she was petrified. It only lasted a little over an hour. I don't know what the school keeps in the basement."

"Your eyes are open now. Am I in danger?"

"Do I look dangerous?" I asked swiveling my hairsnakes in her direction. "My eyes are not fully open. If I did open them you'd be petrified and the mirrors behind you would shatter."

She jumped back a bit. "Don't do that with your friends up there," she admonished. "You wouldn't want me to mess up your nails."

She changed the topic and soon my nails were dried and polished. She had even rounded the very tips slightly taking the edge off. A few doors down we found a bath and body shop and Mom insisted we ask them about body wash for my unusual skin. They actually had a test kit to determine what kinds of botanical soaps would work best to keep my skin soft and healthy. Mom bought some body wash and a scrub sponge.

We went to the cosmetics counter at one of the mall's end stores. An older woman there retreated as soon as she saw us and we had to wait a few minutes while another salesclerk came over from another department to help us. Mom was muttering about how she could not understand how people like that lived in Spiral.

A few minutes later another saleswoman arrived and spoke with the woman hiding from us. The later arriving woman walked up to us and said, "I'm terribly sorry about my colleague over there. She's deathly afraid of snakes and is embarrassed by her inability to maintain a professional attitude."

"It's okay."

"Well, you are too kind. Now, what can I do for you?"

"She wants a makeover." Mom blurted out.

"I do not want a makeover." I interrupted. "The woman at the nail salon suggested I find a similar or darker green colored lipstick to go with my nails."

"Your face is so exotically gorgeous even I don't think you need a make over. I would recommend a little eye shadow to really bring your eyes out. And maybe a gold eyeliner."

"No way," I said. "Just the lip gloss."

"You're being rude," Mom loudly whispered.

"Should I come back?"

"No, it's fine," I said. "What you don't realize and Mother here seems to have forgotten, is that I woke up yesterday morning as a sixteen year-old boy. My twist turned me into this Ancient Greek myth and changed my gender at the same time. I'm not interested in makeup and considering what these eyes can do, the last thing I need is to call attention to them."

"Do I want to know what they can do?"

"The snakes should be a clue. It only lasts about an hour." I blurted out. "I also shatter mirrors when I use that trick."

"Okay, I can get you the lip stick. I think this would look good on you." She said reaching into the display case and got out a silver tube. She spent a few minutes teaching me how to apply the lip stick. It looked very striking in the mirror. "Are you sure we can't try a little eyeshadow?"

I sighed. "Okay, just don't get too close to my lashes." After she got out a few powders, she put some yellow powder on a small applicator and told me to close my eyes. I moved some snakes around to get a view of what she was doing.

"What are they doing?"

"I can see what they see."

"Well, then you have nothing to worry about once you learn to do this yourself," she explained. "You can use them as your mirror, you don't have to worry about shattering a mirror in your face."

"I didn't think of that."

She applied two colors to my eyelid and showed me how to blend them. Then she demonstrated applying eyeliner on herself. I ended up getting several types of makeup, including eyeliners and mascara.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 3

The waiting room was mostly empty. The receptionist waved me over, "Your mother needed to go start dinner. She said your father would be here in about a half hour." She glanced over at Dr. Adelaide's door before continuing softly, "She had you petrify her."

I must have looked shocked as I nodded.

"Margarite, like, totally loves being transformed." The receptionist said mimicking Dr. Adelaide's voice and diction before returning to her own odd speech pattern. "She's a multimorph. Once she turns back to normal, turning to stone will become a form she can change into from now on."

"So, I've just expanded her trick?"

"Yep. I’m Tess," she said holding out her hand.

“Medusa,” I replied.

The receptionist started looking around her desk. "I just remembered. I’ll find the note Dr. Parker dropped off for you under this envelope.” She moved an envelope on her desk. “Here it is. There is venom in your hairsnakes. Apparently, it's a paralytic toxin. A regular dose might last 30 to 60 minutes." She handed me the paper as she finished divulging its contents. "Can I be among the first of many to ask how it feels to have snakes for hair?"

I laughed, "They are heavier than normal hair. And when they really move around a lot, it itches or tickles my scalp."

She laughed. "They look adorable. I know that's not the usual response but really I can see you putting little bows around their necks."

Some of the snakes hissed at the idea. I was surprised to be feeling some of them would enjoy the adornment. "Well, little bows might make them less intimidating," I replied.

"Exactly," she agreed. "Pink bows wouldn't go with your skin tone. A cream tone or perhaps dark red would be perfect. Oh, your father will be here in a moment. You have no questions you wanted to leave for the staff. I've scheduled an appointment for a month from now on a Saturday with Dr. Lewis.” She handed me an appointment reminder card. “Your father is arriving now. Hello, Mr. Harrison," she called to my father as the door opened."

He looked shocked as I turned to face him. His body language lacked its usual confidence as he approached the desk. "Gordon?"

"I do believe I'm the only snake-haired woman here," I joked.

“That’s your first question?” Tess said under her breath.

"How does it feel being a woman?"

I shrugged. "I haven't really noticed yet. What with turning the school nurse into a statue and all the stuff here."

"You should take her home so she won't have to repeat her stories to your wife," the receptionist interrupted.

"Yes, you're right. Come along, um, Dear."

We walked silently to the car. As we got in I altered the awkwardness by saying, "I might call myself Medusa."

"That certainly fits," he replied. He paused before asking with caution in his voice, "Notice any compulsions yet?"

"Not yet."

"I hope this isn't too weird. I think I'm more intrigued by the fact that you're a woman now than that you have such a strong, potentially dangerous trick. I have no doubt you will be responsible with your trick. But, my best friend growing up also became a woman when he Twisted. Her compulsions really changed her. So, there was little chance we could stay friends. I was relieved when your mother said you seemed to still be our Gordon. And I hope I get answers to some of the questions I never got to ask my friend."

"Can't you just ask Mom?"

"What makes you think I haven't?" He asked with a smile. "But, to the best of my knowledge, she was never a sixteen year-old boy."

So, in order to get more attention from him all these years all I had to do was turn into a girl. Is that disturbing or just funny? "Well, let me have a chance to get use to being like this. It's only been a few hours and I haven't really had any time to think about the changes that took place below the neck."

He laughed. "See, that's something I would never have considered possible. When we get home, you should spend some time alone. I'll make sure your Mom and I give you some space after dinner."

We arrived at home shortly. Dinner was mostly me telling them everything that happened since my twist. When dinner was over Mom said, "I stopped at the mall on the way home and bought you some underwear and a pair of pajamas. Tomorrow we’ll go out and buy you a new wardrobe. Your old clothes are all too small and are somewhat inappropriate."

"That was good thinking, Honey," Dad interrupted. "Maybe... Medusa should go take a bath and become acquainted with her new body."

I was going to complain about the idea of taking a bath when Mom agreed, "Of course. There's probably ash from your old clothes trapped in your skin. Go take a bath."

I was glad to get out of clearing the table. My room wasn’t how I had left it. Mom must have zipped through here and removed all the clothes that had been strewn throughout the room. She had also cleaned up any forgotten dirty dishes. My bed was made. She found the comforter? Where was it hiding? On the bed was a package of plain white women's underwear, a green pair of pajamas, satin according to the care label, and two large fluffy towels. Trying not to over think it, I took off the clothes I had received at school. I grabbed the towels and was headed to the main bathroom when Mom appeared.

"Before you go in there, I need to give you one little lesson in being a woman," Mom explained. She proceeded to explain that a certain place was prone to infections and diseases and that it was very important to wipe from front to back when going to the bathroom.

As she said it, I realized I had to go somewhat urgently. I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t noticed this before. "Actually, Mom, that's very timely advice as I really need to go. So, if you'll excuse me..."

I went into the bathroom and put the towels down on a bench. I approached the commode. Because we had just talked about it I didn’t make the mistake of facing it. I sat down and managed to go without any effort. It felt exactly the same and yet totally different at the same time. I wiped as instructed and flushed the toilet. Before I stood up I realized my feet were flat on the floor. My legs were really long apparently. That would take some getting use to.

I got up and started the water running in the tub. The place where I usually lined up the faucet handle felt very cold so I increased the heat. The tub was a large soaker tub able to hold two adults comfortably.

As the water ran, I stood up and looked at myself in the full length mirror. I was stunningly beautiful. I was still having a hard time associating me with this face and now this body in the mirror. I couldn’t believe how tall I was now. It was strange to see breasts and think of them as mine. They seemed a bit bigger than my mother's breasts. They weren’t overly large but they were large enough that guys would have to notice them. My waist looked too thin compared to my hips. For a girl as tall as I it was giving me an almost exaggerated hourglass figure. I wondered what my measurements were.

Before I got too distracted, I turned away from the mirror. When the tub was half full I got in. The water was much warmer than I usually showered with. Yet, it felt great against my skin. I leaned back marveling at how good it felt creeping up my body. I could feel my nipples hardening. When they touched the water my entire body quivered. I gently ran my hands over them, enjoying the pleasure this simple act provided. I had to laugh as I realized this was my first time making it to second base. I spent a lot of time rubbing and occasionally squeezing my breasts. I told myself I was doing it to get use to my breasts but frankly it just felt nice.

After a while I noticed my snakes splashing in the water behind me. Sometimes they seemed to have minds of their own.

My hands roamed down my body to the area I was simultaneously most curious about and most apprehensive about. My hand was laying flat between my legs and my brain was telling me that area should not be flat. Except it was not totally flat. After caressing my breasts for so long, the area down there was slightly open and a little swollen, inviting deeper exploration. I wasn’t ready for that and once I decided to put it off I laughed. If I’d had the same opportunity yesterday to explore a woman's body would I have stopped?

I reached for a washcloth. I didn’t have any body soaps for women so the decision about what to wash with was moot. I looked at the shampoo and realized I would never need that again. Not only was my hair replaced with snakes, but there were no hairs on my skin. Did I have eyebrows? I would have to remember to check. I ran the washcloth along the length of each hair snake. Scrubbing between them against my scalp was oddly invigorating, like a massage. As I ran the cloth down the length of each snake it was a little disconcerting since I was fully aware of the snake's body as I washed it. Normally, I would be as aware of their bodies as I would be aware of my neck if it was not being stimulated. I also counted thirty-eight snakes of nearly uniform girth, a little over an inch I guessed. Four of them were over twice as long as the others.

I dunked my head a few times to get the soap out from between the snakes. Again, some of the snakes enjoyed it and others hissed. Two of them spit some water out at my face after the third dunk. "Okay, I'll stop," I said to appease them. The water was getting cool anyway so I opened the drain and stood up.

I toweled off and was about to wrap the towel around my waist when I stopped myself. I shouldn’t leave my breasts hanging out. It took a few tries, turning the towel lengthwise and getting it tight enough so it wouldn’t slip down off my chest.

I looked in the mirror and discovered the copper cast to my skin above my eyes darkened to almost a brown color, imitating eyebrows. But there was no hair there. My outer eyelids, which resembled human eyelids, however did have lashes. So I wasn’t completely hairless.

I stayed in front of the mirror watching the snakes. I spent a good hour commanding them in groups and individually to move about. The four longest snakes were also the most dexterous. I got one of them to hold my toothbrush and actually do part of the brushing. After a minute or two, that snake was weakening. I had another long snake continue the job until it started weakening. Then I finished brushing my teeth manually.

I left the bathroom, crossing the hallway in just a towel and closed the door to my room. Mom said I wasn’t going to school tomorrow so I had the evening to do whatever I wanted. I sat down on the bed and opened the package of underwear. Letting the towel fall off, I prepared to put a pair on. Once again I noticed that when I bent at the waist my head did not reach the middle of my shins like it should. My head was only down to my knees and I had to reach with my arms almost straight down to touch my toes. Sitting on the bed it was much easier to put on the panties as I could pull my legs toward me. Once I got them on. they slid home disturbingly flatly, but also comfortably soft.

I put on the pajamas next, fumbling with the buttons on the top until I realized they were backwards. I once read that women's clothing buttoned the opposite way to how men’s clothing buttoned. I guessed that was true. The pajamas fit oddly. The shirt seemed too long and the pants were so short they barely reached the tops of my calves. The material felt nice on my skin and my nipples were creating a tent effect on the top. I guessed bras were not just for support.

There was a knock at my door. "Come in," I called out.

Dad opened the door. He focused his attention on my face. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing something."

That was vague. "What exactly?"

"Your mother and I assume you would never use your trick on someone maliciously. But, we also don't really know what your trick does, um, first hand. I want you to petrify me so that if we needed to punish you for some reason related to your trick we would have some basis from which to gauge what you did to determine a suitable reaction."

"I guess I should appreciate your frankness," I replied. "We should go down to the garage. We wouldn't want a statue of you crashing through the floor."

"You don't mind?"

I shrugged, "It's who I am now."

As we walked down to the garage Dad reminisced about his old friend. "After Shawn, now Shawna, twisted we would still talk regularly for a few weeks. She once told me how when she and her Mom went to buy clothes she was surprised at how much she was into the frilly clothes. I tried to remind her that personality changes can easily include changes in fashion sense. I even tried to convince her that no one wanted to see the beautiful girl he’d become dressing in oversized shirts and boys jeans.

"But somehow, every time I tried to comfort her or be supportive, she took it the wrong way. Eventually, I found out that one of her compulsions made her suspect that anyone being nice to her was trying to get into her pants. That was so bizarre since she was also attracted to the low-life losers who would openly admit they wanted to get into her pants. I suppose that made her feel they were being more honest than me. When I denied wanting to have sex with her she figured I was lying.

"In any case, don’t be surprised if you find out you like something that the old you would rather be dead than wear because in a way, Gordon is dead. And while I may not have a son any more, I am certainly happy that I have you as my daughter."

"Daddy, don’t," I choked out as I felt a swell of emotion. "I’m not ready to cry at the sappy parts of the movie yet."

"Sorry," he said stopping in front of me. "I didn’t realize we were on stage. The point I’m trying to make is that you should embrace your new self. You’ll feel better about all the changes that way." Then he surprised me again by giving me a big hug. It felt nice to be safe in Daddy’s arms. I did tear up and I wasn't sure if it was because he was trying so hard to be understanding or if it was because I was thinking of him as "Daddy" instead of "Dad" or "Father".

As we entered the garage, I turned on the light. "How do you want to pose?" I asked pointing toward the other side of room.

"Oh," he mused as he crossed the room. He stood with his legs shoulder-width apart with his hand hovering just off his hips. "How's this?"

"Very Superman," I joked. "Ready?"

After he nodded, I thought I would be dramatic, "In 3,... 2,... 1,... Rock!"

Watching him suddenly stiffen and start to turn gray was less exciting since his clothes obscured most of the effect. Once again there was a weird scent right as he transformed. It smelled really good. It was kind of like ozone but nuttier.

It was odd to see a stone statue wearing clothes, though. I checked out the colors inside of him. They were more complex and more pronounced than the bird's had been. Standing here, the urge to touch the statue was also stronger than it had been with the bird. I wanted to experiment, but not with Daddy.

With a head shake, I turned to leave. I was going to turn off the light but left it on so he could see when he transformed back.

In the enclosed breezeway between the garage and the kitchen door I bumped into Mom headed the other way. Startled, my hairsnakes hissed at her, forming a display around my head that made me look taller and made my head seem wider, like a cobra ready to strike.

Mom jumped back, startled. She might have been intimidated by my being taller than her, especially with my hairsnakes accentuating my height.

I willed my snakes to settle down as I said, "Sorry, they do that by themselves. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I was just going to check on your Father, make sure he doesn't fall over."

"The way he's standing that's highly unlikely." I said as I walked past her. That was when I noticed she was holding the good camera. What was happening clicked for me and I could not get away from the garage fast enough. I failed to not think about the time she told me how much she enjoyed being so fast that the people around her looked like statues.

In my room, I played video games with the sound turned up a bit louder than usual.

After a few hours, there was a knock at my door. Mom opened the door and announced, "We're heading to the mall early so shut that down and get some sleep. Good night."

I lowered the volume and finished the level so I could save. After I turned it off I turned out the lights. The room was still plainly visible though there was no color. Could I see in the dark? I closed my eyes and the room was still plainly visible. It was my hairsnakes. They could see in the dark. I opened my inner lids and my vision became more sharp but there was no color to become more vivid. I wondered if I could petrify someone in the dark.

I laid down on my stomach as usual but that was a mistake. There was no way that would work with these breasts of mine. Rolling onto my side irritated my hairsnakes. I used my arm to sweep the snakes in back upward as I settled down on my back. No body parts seemed to be complaining now. I stared at the ceiling for a little while. My neck felt relieved now that it was not holding up a head and thirty-eight snakes.

CAP - Marrying My Wife's Husband

Part 5, when I finished this, I thought, okay, this series is done. Except, I now have another in progress.... Yes, optimally this would be a bridal image but I couldn't find one with Anna in a bridal dress. And model Anna Shakola has been the "wife" in all 5 of these stories.

And then I found a different image. Which one is better: bustier/long veil or bikini/short veil? Also is the purple on pink text better or worse than the black on pink text? (The text is identical and I'm not saying which image was found first. When this goes to deviantArt eventually, they will only get the voted for image.)

Transcript:

A few months ago, we agreed it was time: I would be the wife from now on and he would be my husband from now on. I'm happier as her than I was as him. She's happier as me than she was as herself. She's certainly a better me than I ever was. Since the swap our marriage has been better than its ever been, and it was amazing to begin with. He knows all the secrets of this body like I know all the secrets of his. We were perfect together and now we're also perfect individually.

He had the most amazing idea around that same time. Even if the rest of the world thinks we're just the same two people they've always known, we know we're no longer the people who got married at town hall eight years ago. He said we should publicly renew our vows. That way, he gets to be the groom and I get to be the bride. We'll exchange vows in our permanent bodies. Thankfully, our first wedding hadn't been anything special. She didn't want to do the big wedding and we could never have afforded it at the time anyway. She never felt right doing girly things. So, I get to have the big wedding and I'll enjoy it far more than she would have.

Fast forward to today, and I feel silly for being the stereotypical nervous bride. The hairdresser just left and I'm waiting for my friends – some of them were always her friends and some I've acquired recently – to arrive to help me get into my gown. I have no idea how none of her friends ever figured out I wasn't her. So far.

I feel silly. But I'm even more nervous about our wedding night. I'm wearing this boring stuff under the gown. I hope he loves the real lingerie I have picked out for him. Of course, that's how this started –picking out clothes for her. I wanted her to love the dress I bought. Now, that same dress hangs in my closet and belongs to me.

I hear the girls downstairs now. Today is about to get extremely hectic. I hope I manage to remember a tenth of it.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 2

I did not remember anything after that until I woke up. I was face down and cold. My head itched like crazy. I opened one eye and there were thick greenish cords in front of me. Before I got a good look at them, my head itched again and the cords kind of swirled up and out of the way. A pant leg and a woman's shoe were a few inches away. I looked up and there was a hand near my face. Beyond that I was greeted by a shocked woman's face that looked odd. She was bent down as if to look at someone lying on the ground in front of her. She did not move and she was somewhat ashen. I was still disoriented.

I rolled onto my back. My body felt different, like I had a pair of somethings stuck to my chest. And my arms were no longer scrawny, being slender and smooth. And they had a funny orange cast to them. Sitting up, I looked down at myself and beheld a naked woman. She had an orange complexion and was completely hairless. My arms tentatively touched the breasts and I felt the touch. Great, I thought. I must have twisted into a woman.

I was still a little woozy and my head still itched. I reached up to touch my hair but stopped. My fingers were orange in color but I was struck was how long they were and how they ended in long, sharp looking nails. I more gingerly reached up and found the thick cords were on my head. I grabbed one to look at. It felt strangely leathery yet smooth. It was trying to bend itself around my hand. I pulled it forward and a snake head was in front of me, hissing. Incredulous, I looked back at the woman who had not said anything to me. It was the school nurse. She wasn’t ashen. She was stone.

I had turned her to stone. I must be hideous. My hair was snakes. All those times I had been called Gorgon and now I was a gorgon: The Gorgon, Medusa. I panicked. I ran to the door. It was locked.

"Gordon?" Called a man, I think it was Principal Jameson. I didn’t answer. What horrible things might my voice do? "Gordon? Stay calm, Gordon. We've called the Clinic to help you. What happened to Mrs. Rhymes is not your fault. Some Twists are dangerous to others. The Clinic will certainly work with you to gain control."

The Spiral Clinic was a place where they helped Twisted learn to deal with their twists and to help identify those Twisted who were dangerous to the public. I had no idea what they did to Twisted with dangerous uncontrollable tricks. And I didn’t want to find out.

I backed away from the door in a state of shock. I slumped to the ground in a corner where I could not see Mrs. Rhymes. Mr. Jameson called my name a few more times before giving up.

Time passed. Without warning I heard a surprised shout, "Oh, my!" Mrs. Rhymes exclaimed as she nearly fell forward. "What happened? I couldn't-- where's Gordon? "

I resisted the urge to look at her. "I'm over here. Don't come close or you'll probably be turned to stone again."

"Oh, you did turn into a w– Turned to stone? I wasn't turned to stone, was I?" She asked as if the idea was crazy. "Is that why I couldn't move?" She went to the door without looking in my direction.

As she tried the doorknob, Principal Jameson called my name again. She replied, "No, it's me, Elizabeth. Why is the door locked? Get poor Gordon some clothes."

The door opened slightly, permitting her to leave. I heard her exclaim, "Over an hour? It was like five minutes, tops." And then there was silence.

After a few moments it dawned on me that turning Mrs. Rhymes to stone had not been permanent. I wouldn’t be locked away for other people's safety. And then I started crying, I would still spend life as a monster with a hideous face and snakes for hair.

As I sobbed, the door opened and I heard a paper bag slide into the room. With nothing better to do I got up and investigated it. Walking over, I noticed I was definitely taller than I had been, perhaps a whole foot taller. My legs also felt unusual as I walked.

It was a large, brown paper bag with clothes in it. With a sigh, I picked up the plain, white panties on top and looked at them. Turning them the right way around, I had to bend almost in half at the waist to reach my feet. I slid one really long, sleek leg into the hole. I was amazed how smooth my legs were. I pulled the elastic to my narrow waist, trying to ignore how flat the area between my legs now was.

There was no bra, not that I wanted to deal with one right now. I picked up the shirt, no, the blouse, I corrected myself. Pulling it over my head reminded me of the snakes on my head. They were flying out away from my head making it hard to get the blouse down on my body. I angrily thought about cutting them off and they started hissing. I politely thought about them drawing themselves upward and the volume of snakes interfering with the blouse disappeared. I pulled the blouse down and put my arms through the short rounded sleeves. The blouse was light blue and had a scooped neck. I definitely had cleavage. My unusual skin tone contrasted obviously against the blue blouse. I thought at first that my normally pale skin had tanned. Instead, it was actually a kind of an orange metallic, almost copper color. The faces of the snakes on my head had a streak of this orange color running around their mouths and disappeared into the green color of their bodies. A pattern similar to scales playing across my skin as well but my skin still felt smooth, not bumpy or scaly.

Without looking down, somehow I could see what looked like running pants in the bag. I closed my eyes and the bag came into sharper focus. I could feel the snakes moving, turning their attention toward the bag. As they got into position, the area of focus widened. I reached up grasping a snake from the other side of my head and said, "You look over this way." That snake hung nearly straight out in the direction indicated. Quickly the area across the room came into focus while the bag on the floor beside me was also in focus. I opened my eyes and the sense of the bag and the area across the room diminished but I could still see what the snakes saw. I could see all around me. At least the snakes gave me a cool ability.

My elation was short lived. Someone had drawn some circles where eye holes would go if someone were going to put the bag over their head. Written next to the holes was "Do not cut out! Extreme danger!"

I could just imagine Tommy's crew had been involved. I knew I shouldn’t let their antics get to me. But they did. I put the running pants on and noticed the mirror near the eye wash station. Could I turn myself to stone? It would not last forever if what happened to Mrs. Rhymes applied to me. I gathered what courage I could and approached the mirror from the side.

Leaning in from the side, I closed my eyes and asked one of the snakes to look at the mirror. The face of the snake came into focus, his head bobbing gently in mid-air. I stepped forward and turned toward the mirror. I opened one eye slightly. I could see a beautiful woman's face wreathed in snakes. I opened both eyes and was shocked by how stunningly beautiful my face was. Even the way the snakes undulated in the air around my face added something tantalizing to my look.

I focused on my eyes, wondering if I was just immune to my own gaze. They were a rich orangish-yellow, the color one sees near sunset before the sun turns fully orange. The lid was human, but the pupil was definitely snake-like. In fact, there was a second lid that I was looking through. With a careless thought, that lid twitched and opened. There was a loud crack as the mirror exploded. Instantly, the snakes were covering my face. There was no pain. But, I knew three of the snakes were injured.

The snakes got out of the way. All that remained of the mirror was small bits of glass. Drops of blood dotted the wall where the mirror hung. The room was vivid, with colors I had never seen before. Something caught my eyes' attention and I saw a bird land on the sill outside the window. Within a second, the color drained from its body, leaving behind an incredibly detailed statue of a bird.

I snapped my eyes shut too late. When I reopened them, the colors had returned to normal. I opened the second lid again and examined the bird. It was as if I could see lines and colors inside the bird. Suddenly, I desperately wanted to touch the bird. I closed the inner lid and the desire mostly disappeared.

A drop of blood landed on my nose. One of my snakes was still injured. The other two had stopped bleeding already. I gently reach up and grabbed the injured snake on the first try without having the grope around for him. He was nearly severed in half about five inches from the left side of my head just behind the ear, if I still had ears. I wasn’t sure if I did.

I went to the door and knocked. "I need some bandages. I cut myself."

"Are you bleeding?" Asked Mrs.  Rhymes.

"Did you cut yourself?" Asked Principal Jameson.

"Not on purpose," I replied. "I seem to have shattered a mirror and some flying glass has nearly severed one of my, um, head appendages."

"I'll be right back," the nurse said.

"Did you strike the mirror?"

"No," I laughed. "I looked at it funny." I noticed a pair of sandals in the bag and put them on.

"Some kind of eyebeam in addition to your other trick?" Jameson asked.

"Actually, it's probably all just one trick," I began and I told him about the second lid. "If I keep that lid down, it should be safe to look at me." I explained.

"So, you've seen your reflection?" Jameson asked with sincere curiosity. "How do you look?"

"Different." I coyly answered.

The nurse returned and after she heard about the mirror she wanted to come in.

I turned away from the door and she entered. "On my left," I explained, holding the limp snake in hand.

"That's a bit too high up for me to reach."

I had forgotten I was taller now. I grabbed a chair and sat down.

As she approached, the other snakes started hissing.

I concentrated and they pulled away from the damaged snake.

"You can control them?" she asked.

"When I try," I explained. "Do I have ears?"

"I can't really see through the mass of, um, appendages," she replied in the same rhythm I had used to refer to the snakes. She started to bandage the snake when she stopped. "Oh, my, it's growing over."

"What is?" I asked and then I felt the snake disappear. "Did it fall off?"

"How did you know?" She asked. "There was only a thin piece of skin holding it on. The end was sealing over before I got here. As the stump closed, the end just fell off. Do you want to see it?"

Without warning I turned around. She flinched then relaxed. "I don't bite," I quipped. "Although I don't know whether these little guys do."

"You look lovely," she announced, looking me in the eyes. She started to laugh. "I did it to myself, didn't I? I lifted your inner lid."

I nodded and pointed at the bird. "I did experiment before saying it was safe. This is the science lab."

She held out the dead snake. It seemed slightly shriveled compared to the active ones.

There was a knock at the door and two men entered. Both were wearing doctor's coats over their suits. Shortly behind them followed Mr. Jameson. "There she is," he said. "Apparently he's, I mean, she's not as dangerous we originally suspected."

"I'm Dr. Parker," said the taller of the two gentlemen, though he was still a few inches shorter than me. He reached to shake my hand. He was obviously Twisted as his skin was actually white, not the pale pinkish color normally called white. "My partner is Dr. Lewis. There was something in the report about external transformation?"

We all shook hands as Mrs. Rhymes answered, "That would be me. I'm the school nurse and Gordon was knocked unconscious after his Twist, as is common. When I went to check her eyes, I was apparently transformed into stone for a little while."

"65 minutes, at least," Mr. Jameson clarified.

"I'm fine now,” she insisted.

"Has this trick manifested since then?" Dr. Lewis asked. He was a normal looking man in his early 50s, slightly balding with dark and gray hair. That didn’t mean he wasn’t Twisted.

"I did it to that bird out on the window sill about fifteen minutes ago," I admitted, pointing at the bird. "I can control it."

"Well, let's gather the bird and take the two of you back to the Clinic. I'm sure some of the trick specialists will want to examine you to determine the limits of your trick."

"I thought it took a few days to get an appointment at the Clinic," Mr. Jameson said.

"Usually we let the newly Twisted take a couple days getting use to their new body before we run them through our battery of tests. But, with a trick as potentially dangerous as this one, even if it only lasts an hour or so, we like to assess the trick as soon as possible."

"If it wears off, how dangerous can it be?" I asked.

"What if she had been driving a car when you had petrified her?"

Before I could reply my mother suddenly arrived in the room. She seemed to suddenly appear in front of Mr. Jameson, "I was told my Gordon had his Twist and you were with him. Where is he?"

"Pleased to see you again, Mrs. Harrison," he answered. "Gordon is the young woman standing over there."

"What?!" she exclaimed turning in my direction. "Gordon? Is that you?"

"Hi, Mom," I replied with a little wave. "You said you always wanted a daughter."

She approached me. "My beautiful boy is now my beautiful girl." We hugged.

"Ma'am, we were just going to take Gordon to the Clinic for evaluation. Would you like to drive him down instead?"

"Oh, I can't," she blushed. "I ran over here as soon as I got the call. I'll have to run back to the office and drive over." She turned to look at me. "I'll meet you there, okay, Dear?"

"That'll be fine, Mom. I know how you are when you're in a hurry."

We left the biology lab after one of the Clinic physicians retrieved the bird from the window and received the shriveled snake from Mrs. Rhymes. Mr. Jameson arranged it so there were no students in the hallway as we left the school grounds. I got into the back seat of a minivan behind Dr. Lewis who was in the driver seat. On the ride over to the Clinic they asked me to tell them about my experiences so far. They didn’t interrupt me with many questions. When I asked why they didn’t have any questions, they laughed and told me there would be plenty of questions once we got to the Clinic.

Mom was already at the Clinic when we arrived. An office assistant handed Dr. Parker a file as he stopped at her desk and then he indicated I should follow him to his office. Dr. Lewis stopped to say something to my mother that I did not hear.

Dr. Parker closed the door to his examination room and said, "Do you want to talk first or do the exam first?"

"Let's get the exam over with."

"You'll have to disrobe for that."

I don’t know why that surprised me. I had been coming to the Clinic every year since I was twelve for examinations. For known descendants, they took a base-line against which they could measure the changes every twist usually involved.

He pointed to a screen behind which I could disrobe and I did so putting on the thin patient's gown hanging behind the screen. It was barely long enough to reach my mid-thigh.

When I came out he said, "Lie down on the examination bed and relax. This won't take long."

Lights in a variety of colors and intensities played across my body. At one point all of my snakes started hissing and my sense of surround vision disappeared as the snakes had all closed their eyes at once.

"Did that hurt?" he asked.

"The snake-like appendages didn't like that light. They seem to hiss on their own when threatened."

The test ended. As he went over the results, I got dressed again.

"There are a few anomalies in your test. Nothing completely unusual, as I've seen things like this before." He pulled up a few images on the computer and pointed to a few discolored areas between my liver and my stomach. "This is a weird gland, sort of like a pancreas. Not sure what it does or how it will affect what you eat." He pointed to another discoloration surrounding my hands. "There's some kind of lymph-like tissue in your hands unrelated to the normal human lymphatic system. Not sure what that's for either." Then he pointed to the head on one of my snakes. "Finally, I think these, um, snakes are poisonous. That looks like a venom sac. I'll make a note for Dr. Adelaide to see if she can milk any venom out of them to test its toxicity level." He turned off the screen. "I don't think any of that should raise any red flags. Just let us know if you have any unusual food cravings or experiences with food that are unusual."

"Okay," I replied a bit surprised at how different I was.

"One last physiology change. Despite the snakes and scaly skin, you are in fact a human woman, with ovaries and a uterus. You’ll most likely start your cycle soon since you’re past puberty. You should have a long talk with your mother about what to expect." He seemed somewhat amused by this and it also seemed like something he had said many times before. "Any questions about anything we've discussed or that you've observed?"

I put being a woman aside so I could ask the more pressing questions. "Why is my skin shiny?"

"The outer layer is closer in cell structure to snake skin than human skin. But you are still warm blooded, your skin has pores like human skin does. You’re probably less likely to bleed from a shallow wound than you were before."

"Will I shed?"

"Your body probably won't. But the snakes on your head might? I don't know."

"Do I have ears? I can't find them and everything is slightly muffled."

"You lack ear cartilage. Your auditory canal just ends and ten or so snake appendages grow out around the hole. Their bodies act as your external ears, channeling sound into your middle ear. Your hearing test was still within human range of frequencies with some slight loss in the high frequencies but you can hear sound at volumes much softer than normal. Your ability to pin point sound direction may also be affected since unlike an ear, the snakes surrounding your external auditory canal move. That might distort or enhance your ability to determine the direction a sound comes from."

"Maybe their movement explains why it sounds like the room is noisy when I can't see a reason for it to be noisy."

"I have one last test. I want to get a look under that second eyelid you've got. Since I can't look myself without being petrified I'm going to ask you to look into this camera with your eyes wide open."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "The mirror did not survive my trick."

"I picked this camera because it was cheap," he admitted.

He started the camera's video recording function and clamped it into a stand. "I'm going to leave the room. I want you to stand over there and look into the camera. If it doesn't break, walk toward it. Once you get close to it or it is destroyed, you can close your inner lid and call me back in."

I announced to the camera I was about to open my inner eyelid then I did so. The colors were fascinating. I walked toward the camera until I heard a crack. I closed my inner eyelid and called him back in.

"That was fast," he said as he retrieved the data card from the camera and inserted it into the computer.

"I was at least 15 feet away when it I heard a loud crack." I explained.

The video started running on the computer screen. We heard me announce I was ready and then I took a step or two forward and the video ended abruptly.

"So much for that," Dr. Parker laughed. "I guess I'll have to see what Dr. Adelaide might be able to find out. She specializes in examining Twists." He pointed to the chair and started asking questions about how I felt about being a woman, how my head felt, etc. When he found out I could see through the snakes, he gave them an eye exam. As I had suspected I could have them focus in any direction I wanted and when I concentrated, I could see, reading multiple eye charts at once, almost as well I could with my normal vision. At one point I had them all pointing outward from my head in all directions and I could literally see everything in front, behind, beside and above me at once.

After that session I met with Dr. Lewis again. He had me take the personality test that I had taken several times before. It was a series of strange yes/no or either/or questions where the choices were usually less than clear cut. I didn’t notice any changed in my attitudes while taking the test.

"So, I know it hasn't been very long, but have you felt any strange compulsions other than wanting to touch the bird as you told us in the car?" He asked.

"Not that I've noticed."

"Do you still want to touch the bird?"

"No."

"One moment," he said as he left the room and returned with a birdcage. "He's fine now as you can see. I'm going to leave again. I would like you to petrify him again and talk to me about the compulsion. But, try not to touch him just yet." He exited.

The bird from the window sill was sitting on a perch in the cage. I opened my inner eyelid and the colors all around struck me with fascination again. The bird lost his color like before. "I can feel it now, with my eyes fully open. I want to touch the bird, to feel the lines of color inside him. Okay I've closed my inner eyelids."

He reentered. "How do you feel about the bird now?"

"I kind of still want to touch him but more out of curiosity."

"Okay, come sit down again." He said. As I did, he was looking at his watch and writing some times down. "Does it bother you that you have this compulsion?"

"No. I think it has to do with the colors. When my trick is active I can see these vivid colors that aren't normally there. And inside the bird are these colored lines and swirls that obviously aren't there now. I think there's something about those lines and swirls that means something to my twist."

"If you figure it out, please let me know," he said. We talked about my new height and how I had not picked out any clothes since twisting. He then said, "Now, I see you use to have issues with being bullied by the other kids at school. Do you think that will stop now?"

"Probably not," I answered frankly. "They use to call me Gorgon and that's what I've become. It would be funny if it wasn't me."

"That's called irony."

"I know."

"Will you change your name? Most Twisted who change so drastically change their name."

"When I thought I'd killed Mrs. Rhymes, I thought I was a monster and thought about calling myself Medusa."

"Certainly a more feminine name than Gordon, or Gorgon for that matter. And you aren't a monster. You are a lovely woman."

"I have snakes for hair."

"Certainly exotic, like the coppery tone of your skin."

"And I turn people to stone."

"Not because your face is ugly. That's just your trick." He pulled out a photograph. It was one of the few photographs of the old me that I knew of and I guessed he got it from my mother. "As I said, after spending years being picked on for this unfortunate set of features, how ironic is it that you are a living beauty who can actually do what they taunted this poor boy with. You should be happy with how you look. After all, you’ll look like you do now far longer than you looked like that," his voice rose as he spoke and then he stopped, putting the picture in his breast pocket. "You don't have to decide now. You could always pick a less conversational name like Mary or Beth."

After a short silence, giving me time to consider what he said, he continued, "Speaking of your snakes, I read in your physical exam results that you can see with their eyes. Do you feel what they feel?"

"If they bump into something I know about it. But I haven't felt anything like pain from them. Not even when they got cut by the shattered mirror or when the one that was severed fell off.

"I think I've gotten more use to them than I would have thought possible before. They just kind of float around in the periphery of my vision unless I think about them. And yet I could give them all individual names if I wanted to. These two were cut in the mirror explosion," I reached up with two hands and pulled the two snakes forward pointing to where their wounds were already almost healed completely. "And this stub was the other injured snake." As I grasped the severed snake I notice it was longer than it was before. "I think it's regenerating as the stub was shorter at the school."

"Well, I think I want to schedule a followup with you in a month or so. I feel as though you are still learning too much about yourself to begin any in-depth introspection about your less exotic changes." He stood up. "Be sure to tell Dr Adelaide the snakes are able to regenerate."

Feeling a little better about myself, I met with Dr. Adelaide. She was a curvaceous woman who looked far too young to be a doctor. She had a serious face and long blond hair. She wore a tight sweater and a skirt that together resembled a cheerleading outfit. "Oh, my god! Snakes for hair. They, like, told me about it. But, like, seeing the snakes, like float around your head. Wow.” She paused. “Sorry. Please sit. So, like, tell me about your twist. It says here you, like, turned someone to stone, too. That's far out. If it didn't last, like an hour, I'd totally ask you to do it to me right now."

"Really?"

"I, like, study twists and I might have you stone me before you leave."

"Okay," I replied cautiously.

"Now, I see you, like, destroyed a camera with your eye beams. Bummer. But I have a tunnel I want to put you in if you'll follow me."

We went to another room. It was long and narrow. She placed a small camera on a chair at the far end. She had me destroy another five or six cameras plus some of her other recording equipment in the room before we were done.

About an hour later we were back in her office. She began explaining how she thought my trick worked. I only understood half of what she said. She said something about the different body parts as different colors perhaps meant they were different kinds of stone. She suggested I look at various normal stone materials with my sight to see if they were multicolored, too.

"I may have pushed you, like, too far. I'm sorry," she said as she rearranged her computer and stood up. She removed her lab coat and shoes as she spoke, "I'll totally, like, call you in a few days after we, like, test the venom we got out of your awesome snakes. I have one last request. I'm, like, going to stand here and I, like, want you to totally petrify me and then, like, press record on the computer so I can, like, totally watch myself turn back, like, to flesh. You are free to leave after you, like, start the recording." After that she removed her blouse and skirt, waiting in just her bra and panties. "I'm, like, mega-sorry if this makes you, like, uncomfortable."

"I- I don't mind," I stuttered. I might have looked female, but up until a few hours ago I had been a teenage boy. Looking at the doctor in her underwear was making feel an unusual feeling in my borrowed underwear.

"Are you, like, sure?"

I nodded and she immediately removed her bra and pulled her panties down. She stepped out of them and gathered them up into a ball on her chair. I stared at her naked body a bit too long I realized when she interrupted me saying, "I'm totally ready whenever you, like, are."

"Are you sure?"

She just nodded and stood still.

She looked so much like she were waiting for me to photograph her that I joked, "Say, 'Cheese.'"

As she broke out in a genuine smile I dropped my inner eyelid. Her body stopped moving and began to lose its color. A second later she was solid stone. The varying shades and colors of stone in her body were vivid. The urge to touch her was overwhelming. I closed my eyes. When I opened them I did not open the inner lid. The colors were gone. The urge was different, more of a curiosity. I ran a finger over her protruding nipple. She was already cool to the touch.

I started her recorder before I left the room. I locked the door before closing it.

MTU: Hard To Look At - Chapter 1

"Hey, Gorgon, did you twist last night?" Called the familiar and unwanted voice of Tommy Radner. "Look, somehow you got uglier." Suddenly a hideously mangled image of my face appeared floating in front of me where everyone in the hallway could see it.

"Tom, I think you may have improved his looks." John Lee joked. Tommy and John were both on the football team and could do no wrong according the school administration. No wrong apparently included accosting innocent students such as myself.

"You're right," Tommy agreed. "Not even my illusions can achieve Gorgon's natural ugliness."

"Oh, you're horrible," Tommy's girlfriend Jenny groaned, pulling Tommy down another hallway as John's girlfriend Nancy started pulling John in the same direction. Jenny and Nancy were on the cheerleading squad and thankfully tended to pull Tommy away from me if they found him picking on me. I couldn’t understand why they dated those jerks in the first place.

Tommy allowed himself to be pulled away from the target of his prank but not without first calling out, "Not as horrible as Gordon..."

The image faded as Tommy moved away from me. This was not the first time, nor probably the last time Tommy had pointed out the obvious. My face had several unfortunate features that made me far less than handsome. My nose was wide and bulbous, my ears stuck out comically, my eyes were narrow and too close together, and I had several vertical scars that made the right side my mouth seem to be smiling maniacally. It did not help that I was shorter than most of the other guys in my class, too, at just five feet three inches.

My name was Gordon Harrison and I was a junior at Starling High in Spiral. I turned 16 several months ago and while both my parents were Twisted, I had not undergone my own twist. Sometimes I wondered if I ever would.

What’s a twist? Twists only happened to the descendants of the survivors of the devastating Antarctic Flu, which swept across North America over fifty years ago. Over two million people died from the virus before a vaccine was found. Since my parents were both twisted, I had always known I would probably twist. Twisting could cause you to be altered physically and/or mentally, from slightly to drastically or not at all. What you were doing when the twist happens could influence how the twist manifests. Who you were may be totally different from who you became.

Along with these changes, many twisted can unconsciously tap into a quantum field that gives them powers. They called these powers tricks to downplay their significance because these same powers caused fear and hatred in the non-Twisted population. These advantages tended to be tempered by unusual changes in physiology or unusual compulsions or both.

Tommy's trick was the projection of illusions. I wasn’t sure if he had any additional compulsions or not since he was always a complete jerk to me before his twist.

Putting Tommy's taunts out of my mind, I went to my morning classes where I paid as little attention as I could get away with. At lunch, I was the last one to reach our usual table. I sat down next to Elliot. Elliot was my best friend since we were in preschool together. He was taller than me and probably pretty good looking, but he was such a science geek he got little respect from the girls in our school.

As soon as he saw me, he began, "I heard what Tommy did. You need to deck him."

Pete, another nerdy student relegated to our table asked what happened and Elliot filled him with a surprisingly accurate account considering he had only heard the rumors.

"I tried decking him, remember?" I replied. "All it got me was detention and more ribbing. I think he's getting bored, though. It had been three days since he last picked on me before this morning."

"Yeah, that's a good plan. Maybe he'll forget who his favorite punching bag is," added Jim, the fourth member of our band of misfits.

"At least he isn't throwing actual punches," I said.

"No, he leaves that job to Colby," Pete declared.

I sighed at mention of the name. Colby graduated last year and I only had to worry about running into him at the mall. He became famous for managing to break my nose, giving it a greater bulbousness than it had originally possessed. Yep, he had made me uglier. When he was suspended for two weeks, he blamed me for getting him in trouble.

The bell signaling the end of lunch rang far too soon and we parted ways. The rest of the day was pretty good as I avoided the obnoxious kids who picked on me. Elliot and I walked home together as usual. He was talking at length about a new video game he wanted to get as soon as it was released. Since he lived just a couple doors down from me I stopped in for a while. We played the prior release of the game he was dying to get. After an hour I had to leave.  It was nearly 4:30 and I was responsible for starting family dinner.

As soon as I got in the door, I filled the oversized pot on the stove with water for pasta. Mom's twist accelerated her metabolism to the point that she had to eat like twenty grown men to maintain any fat tissue on her slim figure. Eight or nine hours without a couple pounds of pasta and her body shriveled into the shape of an emaciated famine victim. Her trick allowed her to move insanely fast for a few moments at a time. She often described the world around her as if it was stopped in time when she used her trick.

Mom arrived home shortly and immediately sat down with a big bowl of buttered pasta. "How was your day?" She asked after scarfing down half the bowl.

"Same as usual," I replied. "I'm going out to the garage."

She got up to refill the bowl,  "Okay, I'll call you when dinner is ready."

The garage was my sanctuary, mostly. Half of it was cluttered with stuff normally found in a shed. The other half housed my kiln and clay works. I sculpt clay, and other materials when I can afford them. I tend not to call myself an artist though since people expect me to be able to draw or paint. While I can draw a decent image, it’s not nearly as good as my sculpting.

I was between subjects at the moment. I gathered up some clay I had left over from my last commission, Aunt Sofia had asked for a pair of bookends that looked like cherubs. They had been the best pieces I had ever done. Dad always complained it would be impossible to live on the income of the average sculptor, but even he admitted my works were lifelike.

There was always dust in the garage. I was constantly brushing and dusting it away. While near my display shelves, I wanted to look at one of the pieces I kept under a sheet. It was a bust of a woman's head that I had done a few months ago. It came out of the kiln perfect but I had only put a base coat of glaze on it. I had decided not to color it, not sure why. Her face was drop dead gorgeous if you will allow me to indulge myself, although I always felt there was something wrong with the hair. It wasn’t a face I had ever seen before or since. Elliot was the only person I’d ever shown it to.

When my mother called me to dinner, I realized I had been looking at the bust for a while. I quickly put the sheet back over the bust. "Coming," I shouted back.

Dad had come home while I was in the garage. I hadn’t heard him park the car in the driveway and walk past the garage on the way into the house. "How was school today, son?" He asked.

It was somewhat out of the blue as he usually was only interested in school when report cards were due. I tried to be noncommittal in my answer, "Same old, same old."

I need not have worried. Dad and Mom started talking about local gossip and ignored me through the rest of dinner. When dinner was over I cleared the dishes, wrapped the leftovers, threw out the garbage, and put the dishes and silverware in the dishwasher. This was always my job and I did it without being asked most nights.

Afterward, I went upstairs and started on my homework. I had a deal with Mom and Dad about being able to spend afternoon time in the garage, my art studio, while the sun was out. I just had to do my homework right after dinner. It took me about an hour to finish that night.

As I was vegging out watching some videos, Dad knocked on my door. "You look down. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I lied.

"I heard about you getting picked on in school today. I hear about it most of the time. Why don't you ever tell your mother and me when it happens?"

"It happens all the time. And when I do tell you it just gets worse after the jerks at school get their slaps on the wrist."

"I wish I could tell you life was fair, Gordon, but it isn't." Dad said putting a hand on my shoulder. "If it were, you wouldn't get picked on just for being different. I'm sure in a few years your jerk classmates will mature and see how foolishly they've treated you. But, as I've told you before, you will twist someday. And what you are now might have no bearing on what you become. Embrace what is good about now and the bad you can hope will go away when you twist."

"That doesn't really make me feel better."

"I didn't think it would," he admitted. "But, it does give you something to think about other than the specific taunts and torments your classmates make at your expense."

* * *

The next day,  I made it to first period without being insulted or picked on. Yay, me. Elliot met up with me before class and looked worried. "Watch out today, Gord. Tara Parker dumped Ryan Cairns yesterday and I heard he was planning to take it out on you later."

"Great," was all I could reply as the teacher started class. After second period, I was walking up the back stairwell when I was interrupted by a soft voice.

"Gordon?"

I turned to see a girl of stunning beauty looking at me hopefully. "Marie?" I replied. I thought that was her name. She had recently twisted and looked nothing like the mousey bookworm she had once been.

"I hear you're a sculptor and was wondering if you could do my bust."

Years of never getting anywhere with a girl might have been the only thing that prevented me from recognizing the double entendre in her request. So I managed not to stutter as I replied, "I only work in clay and my kiln isn't big enough for a full sized bust. It would be about two-thirds scale."

"That should be fine," she agreed. "When could we start."

"We?" I began, "I would just need some photo references for most of the work."

"Oh, no, I want to pose for you. If you aren't busy Friday, meet me in the parking lot after school Friday and I'll give you a ride home. We can work out the details." She turned and walked down the stairs.

The next two class periods were a blur as I spent most of the time wondering if Marie would like the bust I hadn’t even started yet.

It was while thoughts like this swirled about in my head that I walked into trouble. Biology class ended and the teacher bolted faster than most of the students, I think he had a free period next. As I stood up my book bag slammed to the floor. I stooped to pick it up but it was stuck.

"Problem, Gorgon?" Asked the deceptively pleasing voice of Ryan, yet another of Tommy’s friends. His trick increased the weight of objects, like my book bag apparently.

"C'mon, Ryan, I've got to go." I said uselessly.

"Now, that is true. You have got to go," Ryan laughed humorlessly. "Your kind of ugly is dangerous."

"How many mirrors did you break today?" One of his cronies, Jared I think, added.

"Saw you talking to Marie earlier," Ryan continued.  "You think she likes you?"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"Like anyone would date ole Gorgo here. I'm sure any girl getting that close to him would be petrified."

"Petrified he might try to kiss her?"

"No, petrified as in turned into a statue."

I wanted to run. I could not just punch them. They had the principal wrapped around their fingers. "She just wants me to sculpt her bust." I muttered in useless explanation.

They laughed loudly. "That's as close as you'd ever come to touching a bust," jabbed Jared and a couple guys high-fived him for it.

"A bust?" Ryan accused. "So, you admit it. Your face can turn people to stone.  Can't it, Gorgon?"

I felt hot. A chorus of "turn her to stone" and "Gorgon" surrounded me as I felt something like a live outlet zap me. Pain rang out all over my head. As I grabbed my head it felt funny, bumpy I think, and I remember feeling my hair fall out. The taunts turned into shouts and sounds of running away. I hit the floor with a thud or maybe that was the classroom door slamming.

MTU: Hard To Look At -- Introduction and Index

Hard To Look At is the second** story I've written in Morpheus' Twisted Universe. It is about 20 parts or about 60,000 words, a short novel. I started writing it over 12 years ago when stories in the universe were fresh. It's too bad the universe isn't better known or contain more stories. I suppose part of that is my fault for sitting on a story for 12+ years. Morpheus only spent three years making stories for the universe.

My other MTU story is called Hold That Pose is over five years old. It's about a young woman who enjoys being a living mannequin so much that she becomes a mannequin as part of her twist. Twist, you ask? In the MTU, a genetic mutation caused by conquered virus causes descendants of the original outbreak to twist: an event where their bodies and/or minds are reimagined as something else. There are more details in the stories and in the writer's guidelines for the MTU.

Hard To Look At will be serializing here twice a week for the next ten or so weeks on Tuesdays and Saturdays. All other story updates will be on hiatus until it finishes. The next chapter of The Truth starts a new "phase" of the story so it's a good place for a hiatus. Mondays will occasionally contain a photo manip or caption.

Why now and in this format? I'm hoping to build my following by posting more on BigCloset.us, a place for TG stories. Hard To Look At is about a young man who turns into a young woman with snakes for hair and the trials and tribulations that entails. I'll probably serialize it on BC and deviantArt in June.

** I have started a third one. At this rate it should be ready to release in 2031 or so.

Links to all the parts will be collected here as they become available. I can't decide if the chapters should have titles. I'll be posting the titles here and in comments on the chapters as they release.

• Chapter 1: Origin 

• Chapter 2: Clinic

• Chapter 3: Bonding

• Chapter 4: Shopping

• Chapter 5: Testing

• Chapter 6: Birdie

• Chapter 7: School

• Chapter 8: Food

• Chapter 9: Advisor

• Chapter 10: Dinner

• Chapter 11: Duke

• Chapter 12: Fashionistas

• Chapter 13: Rebirth

• Chapter 14: Couple

• Chapter 15: Dates

• Chapter 16: Snap

• Chapter 17: Jenny

• Chapter 18: Prom

• Chapter 19: Vacation

• Chapter 20: Meeting

• Chapter 21: Euryale

• Epilogue

Five Minute Girl, Chapter 5

“John, there’s a man and a woman standing outside the store. The woman looks like she could be Erica’s twin,” Shelly said.

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” He left the store and walked up to the woman. “Melanie?”

As soon as John approached the couple, the woman said, “How do you have a mannequin that looks like me?”

“I told you this is a scam,” the man with her said. “A very elaborate one.”

John took a deep breath and extended a hand for a shake. “Hi, I’m John. I own this store and I’m Erica’s boss, I suppose. That is Erica.”

“And I’m Brad Pitt. This is nonsense,” the man said.

“Be quiet, Greg,” Melanie said, accepting the handshake. “I apologize for Greg’s behavior but I have to admit I also agree with him. How could that mannequin be my Aunt Erica? She should be at least 65 but the mannequin looks younger than me.”

“Come inside, and you’ll understand. Or wait here and I’ll demonstrate.”

“We prefer to wait here,” Greg said.

John went inside and they saw him walk up behind the mannequin. He touched its neck and it came to life. The now living woman smiled and waved at them. She rushed past the store owner out of the store.

“Is that you Melanie?” the former mannequin said as she hugged her niece. Melanie accepted the hug but didn’t hug back.

“If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes…” Melanie said. “If you’re my Aunt, how do you look younger than me?”

“Let’s go inside. I’m not really dressed to stand here on the sidewalk in this weather.” She was wearing a lacy, royal blue bra, panties, garter, and stockings lingerie set with a see-through baby doll camisole over top of it.

They followed her inside and to the back of the store where there was an office. John was waiting for them there. He was holding an overcoat out for Erica.

“Thanks,” she said, putting on the coat before sitting down.

“Can I get you some water or coffee?” John said to the couple.

“Have anything stronger?” Greg said.

“Unfortunately, no. Would you prefer to have this conversation in the bar down the street?”

“No, no,” Melanie said. “That story Grammy told. It was true?”

“Assuming she got it all correct from the one time I told it to her, I suppose so,” Erica said.

“You look just like I did ten years ago.”

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Gregory said. “Tell us the story yourself so we can see if her grandmother got it right.”

She told her story again, freezing up several times during the retelling.

“She just locks up mid-sentence.”

“She does,” John said reaching for her neck.

“Can I do it?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Is she aware right now?”

“Fully.”

Melanie touched Erica’s button and Erica said, “Thanks,” before resuming her tale.

* * *

“Why have you waited until now to contact us?”

“I haven’t had a store owner who cared about my off hours existence. I’ve spent most of the last four decades either in a storage room or in a storefront window. John is the first store owner who’s treated me like a person since Giorgio in Milan. He was also willing to drive me three hours away to see my mother.”

“I want to point out that your grandmother isn’t changing her will and only your mother’s children are inheritors in her will,” John said. “Erica isn’t seeking anything from her mother. So, please stop with the ‘This is a scam’ talk.”

“My apologies,” Greg said. “But, you have to look at it from our point of view. Someone we don’t know visits her aging grandmother and she starts telling this crazy story about a long, lost daughter.”

“We understand. But, it’s not like you never heard about the long, lost daughter.”

“No, Grammy loved to talk about Erica The Explorer. Or Erica The Model. Frankly, I don’t think Mom told us many stories about you because she was jealous of you.”

“Donna was a wonderful sister unless she was being the second child sister,” Erica said. “Then, she was the victim of my being old than her and it wasn’t fair that I got to do age appropriate things she couldn’t do.”

There was a short silence.

“Are you two…?” Melanie said looking back and forth between John and Erica.

“We are exploring the possibilities available given her condition.”

“How would that work?”

“We don’t know yet,” Erica said. “First, he needs to get me out of my shell. For someone who stands in a window display, I really don’t like the idea of being seen out in public.”

“Going to see your grandmother was the first time I took her somewhere other than my apartment or the store.”

“And I was scared to death people would react to me poorly.”

“You are unique.”

“Well, you have two months to get over this hang up if you’re going to come to our wedding.”

“Your wedding?”

“You’re inviting her?”

“I told you I would if she checked out. And knowing she has a plus one already, especially one who looks at her like John does, I feel even more strongly in favor of it.”

“As I said when we talked earlier, I just fear her unique status would make her more of the center of attention than you would be.”

“Like I care,” Melanie said. “Of course, to mitigate that concern, you should come meet the family before the wedding.”

Erica froze.

“That wasn’t five minutes,” Greg said.

“I think she did it herself. You may have given her more to think about than she could handle. She sometimes uses her mannequin state as a coping mechanism. Let’s take advantage of her timeout and exchange phone numbers. It’ll give her a chance to calm down and collect her thoughts.”

Greg touched the mannequin’s hand. “Uncanny.”

* * *

Melanie and Greg left not long after that. Erica expressed her tentative desire to meet the family and agreed to attend. After they left, Erica immediately left the office and went to her spot in the window and froze.

That evening, John didn’t bring up their visit on the ride home, during dinner, or while they watched television. After getting into bed, he unfroze her and said, “We’re not going to talk about the wedding?”

“If I can influence it, no.”

“What happened to the no fucks to give Five Minute Girl I met a few weeks ago?”

“Reality smacked her in the face,” she said. “I had long ago given up my family, or myself really, for dead. And now they aren’t and I now have a niece who wants me to attend her wedding. It’s a lot to process.”

“And I’m sure a few uninterrupted days in the window at work will be plenty of time for you to, at least, get a handle on processing it. The one thing you do possess is time.”

“Why haven’t we tried to have sex?”

“That’s one way to change the subject.”

She just smiled at him innocently.

“I was waiting until you mentioned it.”

“Why?”

“Well, for one thing I’m not sure how we’ll do it. And two, I didn’t want to blunder into something that caused you any stress.”

She kissed him and they kissed until she froze. And when he unfroze her she kissed him again and while they kissed, she reached into his pajamas and grabbed his firm cock. She stroked it until she froze. His hands squeezed her ass until she froze.

He had to pull them free to unfreeze her. She laid back and started rubbing her pussy with her fingers. “I so want to feel you inside me. But,” she blushed, “What if it gets cut off?”

“I would not be pleased.” He said. “I’ve thought about this.” He reached into a side table drawer and pulled out a package. “We can experiment with this.”

It was a wide dildo. He pressed the tip to her pussy and gently pushed it in.

“Faster.”

He quickly moved the dildo in and out of her as she continued to rub herself.

She froze. He pulled the dildo out and ran his fingers around the opening left behind by the dildo. His erection slipped into the hole and he humped in and out of her a couple times before he pressed the button. Her flesh clamped down on him and he continue stroking in and out without missing a beat.

A moan erupted from her mouth. And another. “Yes. Oh, god it’s so thick.”

When she froze, John discovered he hadn’t been dismembered and the lovemaking finished in earnest. Afterward, he was catching his breath while she was still a mannequin. He continued to trace his finger around the inside of the opening for a while before hitting her button.

“Oh, God,” she shrieked. “Please, stop doing that. Maybe I’ve forgotten what sex was like in the last forty-five years. But, that was amazing.”

“Don’t say things like that. It makes you sound old.”

“I’m not old. I’m mature. Fuck me again.”

“Real mature.”

* * *

As a mannequin, Erica was sitting alone in the passenger seat of the parked car. She watched John step out of the restaurant building adjacent to the parking lot. He returned to the car and sat down. “The hostess says it’ll be another five minutes for our table to be ready. I suppose I should just leave you as you are. You tend to be the most calm after being a mannequin.”

John had learned how to make small talk by himself over the months since meeting Erica. He did so now until he felt it was time to go inside.

“Ready?” He said. He got out of the car and went around to the passenger side. He opened the door and leaned in. He pressed the button.

“How’s my makeup look?”

“You are gorgeous as always. Stop stalling.”

He held out his hand and she took it as she stepped out of the car. They entered the restaurant and the hostess said, “Excellent, your table is ready. Right this way.”

“How much did you tip her?”

“Twenty dollars.”

“I can’t remember if that’s a lot or not these days.”

“We’ll work on your money skills some other time.”

They were seated in a booth made for at least six people.

“This booth is huge.”

“So you can scoot further in. Fewer people will be able to see you that way. Although, you really don’t need to hide your condition.”

“Baby steps, John.”

“Hello,” said the waiter who had just appeared at the end of the booth. “I’m Peter. I’ll be your waiter. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Scotch, neat,” Erica said.

“Just water.”

The waiter handed them menus and went over the specials of the day before leaving them to decide what they wanted.

“I’m not going to be able to eat very much.”

“We’ll just take it home in a doggy bag.”

“They still call it a doggy bag?”

“If the name changed no one told me.”

The menu only had one side and when she froze, John left her frozen until he saw the waiter approaching.

“Have you decided?”

She ordered a chef salad and he ordered the salmon.

When the waiter left, she said softly, “Why did you leave me like that for so long?”

“You have never complained about that before. Ever. You have repeatedly told me I don’t have to jump when you freeze.”

She blushed. “It’s just people might have seen.”

“Not their business.”

“But…”

“No buts. You were reading the menu. You didn’t need to move. I made sure you were human before the waiter reached the table. No one saw anything.”

“I told you baby steps.”

“Baby’s crawl. You’re a model. You should strut.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You haven’t spent years being treated like a thing. I’ve gotten use to there being a barrier between me and other people.”

“A pane of glass?”

“Yes. Yes. I feel exposed even here in the booth.”

“A week ago, you dashed out into the street in lingerie to meet Melanie. You really aren’t shy. And if you were, you can’t get use to being around people except by being around people.”

“I know. The funny thing is I was never the wallflower. That was Donna. Mom was constantly telling me to stay in and telling Donna to go out more.”

“One good thing has happened.”

“What?”

“You told me an anecdote about your childhood with your sister. You wouldn’t talk about your family at all a month ago.”

“Until recently, my family didn’t matter. Remembering them was a source of painful regret. But seeing Mom alive. She’s right. You’re right. I need to attend that wedding."

The Truth - Chapter 9

Sandra was trembling, seeing a thoughtful look cross Jon’s face.

“You see that dress in the window?”

The men looked and the man with the money said, “We aren’t interested in a dress.”

“No, you don’t look the type. But I know the owner of the store and you guys just looked at one of her surveillance cameras. If anything happens to me or the lady here, the police will know where to look first. Now, I was joking with the other man. I am not joking with you. We are not exchanging anything.”

The men looked conflicted. After a moment, the leader said, “C’mon, guys. There are plenty of sure-things down at Cahill’s.”

There was a slap and Sandra exclaimed, “Oh!”

The leader looked at his friend who had smacked her ass.

“The other guy smacked her ass. Why can’t I?” he said as they walked away.

“Yeah, Tony, it’s not like the guy is doing anything about it.”

Jon shrugged, saying, “I don’t want any trouble.”

The other two also smacked her ass before they walked away. Jon stepped up to Sandra and unlocked the padlock holder her hands in place. “Let’s go,” he said, dropping the leash.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. The few seconds she had to stand there until he was far enough away were an eternity to her. She barely remembered being groped on the way back to the subway.

At the bottom of the stairs, Jon took the leash and after he walked through the turnstile he swiped his transit card again so she could enter. He did not let go of the leash until they were on the train headed back to their block.

She looked at him and pointed to the leash. When he did not react, she put her hands under the leash and tried to project it at him.

He was looking away when the leash hit his arm. When she tossed it toward him again, he asked, “You want me to hold the leash?”

She nodded quickly.

“Okay,” he said as he took the leash. He whispered in her ear. “I command that you may stand any distance from me.”

Except for some gropes, the return trip was uneventful. Jon opened the door to his apartment and indicated she should enter first. As soon as he closed the door she rushed into his arms, kissing him awkwardly though the fabric and then pulling them together for a strong embrace.

To abate her trembling, he held her back. “It’s okay,” he said, patting her gently on the back. He held her for another moment before saying, “There was never any danger.”

Her arms stopped squeezing and she looked at him.

“Let me show you the paper.” He extricated himself from her grasp and went to the desk.

She followed him there and read the sentence he pointed at. She dropped to her knees in blessed relief. After a moment she rocked back on her heels and shook her fists in the air violently because he had known all along that they were safe. She saw him writing something.

He looked at her, “Go sit on the sofa and I’ll get you out of that thing right now.”

She shook her head and pointed to her crotch.

“Zentai expose zentai,” he said.

A sudden coolness brushed her crotch as part of the zentai suit disappeared. She turned and looked at the mirror. A rounded oval opening provide full access to her private parts. The leash swayed and the cold metal of the D-ring striking her crotch was shocking.

He stepped up behind her and caressed her breasts from behind.

She wanted to touch him but could not feel him through the leather mittens. She gave up and let him fondle and caress her. The feel of his hands through the suit was amazing. She was surprised when she emitted a kitten-like purr.

He came around front of her still rubbing her body. He said, “Sandra spread Sandra.”

Suddenly her legs spread apart and her arms were straightened out and above her head. She pulled and found her arms were attached by the mitten D-rings to something. She wanted to lift her legs and found them similarly secured.

He knelt down and blew hot air against her pussy.

She shuttered in anticipation. Her body reacted to his tongue like it was statically charged. She wanted to lean into his face. She hoped he was the type to just go for it. She was not in the mood for an Old McDonald-like here a lick, there a lick. He did not disappoint.

His tongue plunged into her lightly wet pussy. He was glad to experience a pussy that did not get sopping wet while he worked on it. He realized she must have been extremely horny because she was breathing heavy only a few minutes into it.

She wanted it to last and last but his tongue and lips were not deterred by excessive moisture. She had never had a guy who could stay in place for a long time without drowning. Her breathing became shallow and she tried to escape him by pulling upward on her chains. But nothing she did could slow her body’s reaction to his ministrations. She orgasmed hard, lifting herself off the floor at the height of the orgasm.

He did not stop as she came and he had to follow her upward to keep in contact. After a moment she sagged on her chains as the pleasure wave receded. Jon made sure she experienced the feel of rock hard nipples against spandex, satisfied by the shudder she made as he did so. As he got up he noticed the adhesive vibrator on the floor. He touched the tip to her pussy and pushed it in slowly. He set the knob to 40%. Another involuntary purr escaped her lips. “Zentai censor Zentai,” he said and the opening to the zentai suit vanished as if it never existed. It tented outward where the vibrator extended out from her pussy.

He went to the desk and wrote: “When the adhesive vibrator is inside Sandra and she is encased in the zentai suit, the vibration rate knob to the vibrator remains outside the suit. A small hole in the suit allows the shaft of the knob to remain accessible. Only the knob remains outside her pussy, unlike normal operation of the vibrator that leaves more to grab onto outside her pussy.”

Sandra moaned as the vibrator slipped deeper inside her.

Remembering something from earlier, he wrote: “The adhesive vibrator never makes a sound as part of normal operation.”

The low humming in the room vanished. He got up and tested it out. He lowered the vibration to zero and back up to twenty. Then he turned it to full power.

She grunted. She was off balance and tried to get her feet under her but she could not pull them together. The vibrations were driving her to orgasm quickly. She came a moment later bucking hard against her chained limbs. As it faded another started. She came several minutes later and the cycle repeated. She was becoming faint. She knew that using a vibrator like this would normally causes numbness but she could not become numb. Normally it would rub her flesh raw causing pain but she could not be rubbed raw. She just felt pleasure from the vibrator. Over and over she rose to orgasm without relief. Pleasure without end. It became hard to think as the orgasms started coming closer and closer together. She thought she might be moaning and shouting. She could not tell. There was only the rise and fall of ecstasy followed by rising pleasure.

He watched her buck and kick several times. She purred a few times. Sweat marks stained parts of the zentai suit. Moans escaped her mouth and after about twenty minutes she moaned or shouted inarticulate Ohs continuously. Soon the whole suit was wet with sweat. “Go to sleep,” he said and her body immediately sagged. But she still made the occasional moan. He got up and turned the vibrator off. He grabbed her under the arms and said, “Sandra unchained Sandra.” The chains disappeared and she slumped into his arms. He dragged her to the sofa and put her down. “Wake up, Sandra,” he said. “Are you okay?”

She did not know how she got to the sofa. For that matter she was not sure what day it was. She tried to speak but could not. She shook her head and pointed to her mouth.

“Oh, I forgot. Sandra speak Sandra.”

“Where am I?” she croaked out.

“Do you know what happened?”

She paused a moment and said, “Oh, yeah, I almost orgasmed to death. What were you thinking?”

“What do you mean? What happened?”

“You combined a few commands poorly,” she berated. “I can’t go numb or get rubbed raw during sexual encounters, right?

“Well, the only reason anyone stops using a vibrator is they go numb or they get rubbed raw. Without those limits, there’s nothing stopping those vibrations from feeling good. Was I moaning? I thought I heard moaning. Any longer and I might have forgotten my name.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And the worst part is, part of me wants you to turn it up to full power again, right now.” He reached toward her and she pulled back, saying, “Please don’t.”

“I was kidding.”

“I am thirsty.”

“I believe that,” he said getting up. “The suit is soaked with sweat.” He got a glass of water and returned and said, “Sandra catsuit Sandra.”

The fabric above the collar on the zentai suit vanished along with the wig.

Sandra blinked at the sudden brightness. Then she stared at the glass.

“Hold your head still,” he said. He put the glass to her lips and tipped it up slowly.

“Don’t you think this outfit has served its purpose.”

“Not until you’ve had to have help getting a drink. Now it’s served its purpose.” He explained. “How was the humiliation?”

“The sex afterward more than made up for it. I’m not sure if the vibrator thing was a plus or a minus. Now say whatever you have to say to get rid of these stupid mittens.”

“I didn’t put that command in. I can make you naked if you like.”

She sighed. “Why do I get the feeling that was planned? Go ahead.”

“Sandra naked Sandra.” He held out the glass.

Naked once again, she took the proffered glass and drank it quickly. “Finally, my feet can flex once again.” She looked up and around the apartment. “Where did the chains attach?”

“They made their own attachment points when they appeared. I was curious how you felt about the bondage.”

“More water please,” she said holding out the glass. “It’s not a high priority kink. I don’t want to be tied up and left somewhere. But restricting movement during sex can be good. You did fine.”

As her returned he asked, “What’s that on your back?”

She reached around and found a business card. Flipping it over she discovered it was a woman’s business card advertising discrete clothing design. She laughed.

“What is it?”

“A woman asked me how I attached the wig to the suit while I was chained to the lamppost. She chatted for several minutes implying she was into zentai. She played with the wig before she left. She must have put the card in the hair.”

He handed her the glass. “I was never really behind you so I wouldn’t have noticed it.”

She drank the water, then asked. “Okay, so what’s with the Sandra something Sandra stuff?”

“Just some shorthand commands. Some are specific to the zentai suit and other are specific to you. Expose makes you accessible and censor covers you back up. Those are zentai specific, though they also work with the catsuit. Catsuit removes the hood, naked removes the whole suit, and zentai returns the full suit.”

“Returns? I thought it was gone.”

“I liked how it looked on you,” he said. “Continuing, speak removes the mute condition and silence enables it.”

“You did those with Sandra speak Sandra so they aren’t part of the suit.”

“Nope, they always work. I’m going to add a pair for the vibrator next. Having your name at both ends of the command means I can’t accidentally say it in normal conversion.”

“Okay, having these little commands you can hit me with is hot. You left out Sandra spread Sandra.”

“And its opposite, unchained. Spread causes you to spread your arms and legs and for chains to appear, holding you spreadeagle. I see some D-rings are still in the ceiling and floor. I’m going to have to make unchained cleanup after spread a bit better.”

“Though I fear leaving you alone with the pen too long, I am exhausted. Walking in five-inch heels for a long time is a work out. Orgasming your brains out afterwards doesn’t help. Now where are my clothes?” They looked around. “How long has it been since I was wearing my clothes?”

“Since we got back from introducing Debra’s new ability to Ms Beed about six hours ago.”

“It was only six hours ago?”

“’Fraid so,” he replied. “Sandra clothed Sandra.”

She was wearing the clothes she had on earlier that afternoon.

“Surprise. Go get some sleep, Sandra.”

“Goodnight, Jon.”

Five Minute Girl, Chapter 4

John and Erica were driving north to a small town in the mountains. Erica was very nervous and asked John to leave her frozen because she didn’t want to get on his nerves. At first, he resisted but eventually found the wisdom in her request and they drove in silence. Being a mannequin also helped calm her mind. A couple hours later they arrived at a town at the base of a mountain. It was a winter ski town but as it was summer, it was just a quiet little village.

John pressed her button. “We’re here.”

“So soon?”

“You were well aware we arrived.”

“It’s still too soon. What will I say to her? What can I say to her?”

“It won’t be a problem, I’m sure.”

They entered the building and walked to the reception area. “Hello, can I help you?” the receptionist said.

“We’re here to see Nancy Delgado.”

“Oh? She doesn’t get a lot of visitors. Are you related?”

“I’m her…. granddaughter,” Erica said.

“How nice. Room 37 down that corridor.”

As they reached the door outside the room, Erica froze up.

“You did that on purpose.” He pressed the button. “Maybe I should just leave you in the hallway where anyone can see you.”

“That’s mean. Wait, how could you tell I froze myself?”

“Your hands. You always make sure your hand look good when you freeze yourself.”

“I do?”

“You’re stalling.” He knocked on the door. There was no answer. He opened the door and peered in.

It looked like a typical combination bedroom/living room except for the medical monitoring equipment. “Is someone there?” a thin voice said.

Erica entered and immediately put her hands to her face in joy. It had been over forty years since she had seen her mother.

“Rikki? Is that really you?”

Erica’s eyes welled up. “Mom?”

“Come over here and give me a kiss.”

Erica stepped to the side of the bed. “Hi, Mom.” She kissed her mother on the forehead.

“I always knew you would come back to me. You look just like I remember you, my beautiful baby girl.”

“You look good, too, Mom.”

“Don’t fib to me, young lady. I look like a bleached raisin. I would tell you to avoid getting old but you’ve already figured that out.”

Erica froze. John jumped in and hit her button.

“Are you her beau?”

“I’m John. I suppose you could call me that.”

“In the second drawer over there, there’s an envelope. Could you get it for me?” She told him. “Rikki, what happened to you?”

“You wouldn’t believe it.”

“You would lie to me?”

“No.”

“Then why wouldn’t I believe it?”

In five minute intervals, Erica told her mother about her life, such as it was. There was one new part for John.

“You have an archeology degree?”

“I told you I was too short to be a model.”

“You never wanted to be a normal model,” Mom said. “You were always fascinated by mannequins. It’s fitting you’ve become one.

“Well, before this happened, I attended digs in Mexico, Angola, and unfortunately Kenya,” Erica said. “I was the lead on a small expedition to Kenya when I became who I am today.”

* * *

“Come, you must see,” Chiumbo called out.

Erica followed the tall, Kenyan man up the hillside. “Chiumbo, this is not part of my dig site.”

“I know, Good Lady. But, you must see. Come. Come.”

They crested the hill and look down upon a virgin valley, seemingly untouched by humans for at least several hundred years.

“What am I looking at? It’s a beautiful valley.”

He handed her binoculars and pointed. “There, there.”

She looked where he was pointing and saw nothing unusual. She tried the binoculars and after describing what she was seeing so he could tell her to go left, right, up, or down. Eventually, she saw it. “Is that…?”

“It is. It must be. It must.”

She continued to look at the area of pure darkness in the sun dappled valley. When she looked back at Chiumbo, he was rushing down the hill toward the area of darkness. With a sigh, she followed after him. “Chiumbo, slow down!”

“I won’t let it disappear on me again.”

When she first met Chiumbo, he told her the story of The Walking Shadow. It was said to be a gateway to a realm of riches for the taking. Erica had spent a lot of time in Nairobi libraries and museums trying to corroborate his story and found nothing about a realm of riches. But, stories about a shadow that shouldn’t exist she did find. There were no first hand accounts though.

As she got closer to the shadow she could see it was moving away from Chiumbo.

“It not let me in.”

“Are you sure you want to go in?”

“Riches, Girl. Riches.”

“I told you I could not find anything about riches in shadow, Chiumbo.”

“I know what my Bibi tol’ me. She not lie to me.”

He lunged for the shadow and it jumped out of his way, straight into Erica.

Erica was plunged into darkness. The sounds of insects and wind vanished leaving her in an unnatural silence. She tried to walk out of the shadow but no matter which way she turned there was only darkness. And silence, her footfalls make no sound either. “Chiumbo? Chiumbo?”

She had no idea if he heard her or was calling for her. She stood still for a few moments hoping the shadow would move away from her. It didn’t. She stomped her foot. It made no sound. She reached down and touched the ground and it felt like polished stone, not the grass and dirt she had been standing on moments before. She reached into the pocket in her belt for her flashlight but turning it on did nothing to illuminate the area around her. She could see the light on her hands but not on the floor below her or anything else that might be around her.

She walked. She figured it didn’t matter what direction she walked. Standing still couldn’t be the better idea. She thought maybe twenty minutes had passed when her flashlight reflected something back to her. It was just a few feet in front of her, just to her right. Training the flashlight on it, it was a mannequin. She touched it and it felt real. It’s face was her face, with a neutral expression that contained a hint of amusement in the slight smile on its lips. It was wearing a white T-shirt and red shorts. There was nothing else special about it. She walked on. About forty feet or so from the mannequin was another mannequin, also with her face. It was dressed in a dark sweater and flared jeans.

Every forty or so feet, regardless of what direction she went, she found a new mannequin wearing different clothes. If she tried to go back to a prior mannequin, she found a mannequin that looked like her but wearing a completely different outfit than it had been wearing less than minute ago, assuming it was the same mannequin. She passed well over one hundred mannequins. Some wore shorts or skirts or pants or casual dresses or designer dresses. Some wore workout clothes or swimwear or lingerie. There were even a handful of red carpet style gowns.

The current one was wearing no clothes. Why mannequins? She thought. She did love the idea of being a storefront mannequin, standing there day after day. But, that was a distant fantasy of her childhood. Why was the darkness showing her mannequins?

“Finally, a worthy question,” boomed a voice all around her. It had been so quiet, her ears rang at the loudness of the voice.

“Who’s there?”

“You have been deemed worthy. What is your wish?”

“Worthy of what?”

Silence.

“I need to know who you are first.”

“Actually, you don’t,” the voice boomed again. “You desire to be a mannequin. Say so and it will be so.”

“I don’t want to just be a mannequin. I use to pose as a mannequin in a clothing store. And I wished I could turn myself into a mannequin and be turned back to normal when I wasn’t needed. But, that’s just crazy.”

“Crazier than a dark space full of mannequins?”

“I suppose not.”

“What else do you wish?”

“Since you asked, my being a mannequin in a clothing store would magically attract additional clientele, statistically verifiable, to the store. Making it beneficial for the store to pay me to be a mannequin there.”

“I am always pleased when wealth is wished for with cause and effect and not just dropped from the heavens. Third?”

“I suppose being able to find store owners who would want to have a living mannequin would be useful. Especially if my current boss wasn’t using me correctly. I could just find a new place to work in and be gone.”

“Excellent. Think about finding such a store now.”

* * *

“And suddenly I was in a boutique in Milan. The owner there, Giorgio loved me. Figured out my button and treated me well.”

“What happened?”

“He died. About a month after I arrived. He was so patient, listening to me whine about being tricked by the voice. The next owner didn’t care about my troubles.”

“It’s a good thing Donna never heard that story. She would have hounded you forever to tell the truth.”

“Why didn’t you just wish to be…?”

“Tall enough to be runway model? Beautiful? A highly sought out and well-paid supermodel? Wealthy? A world famous archeologist? I asked myself that for like three decades before giving up.”

“I was only going to ask about being taller,” John said.

“How is Donna?” Erica asked her mother.

“Oh, she died about five years ago. It’s in the envelope.” She took the envelope from John and opened it. “This is the last photo of you, me, Donna, and dickhead. He’s dead, too.”

“That’s my father, Mom.”

“You didn’t like him either.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“This is your birth certificate,” Nancy said, continuing to flip through the contents of the envelope. “Though, given your apparent age, it might not be of much use to you.”

“You kept my birth certificate?”

“I knew you weren’t dead. I don’t know why I knew it. A few months before her death, Donna visited me and she asked why I had this envelope. She said it was both beautiful and a bit disturbing that I never gave up on you.”

“How did she die?”

“Cancer. Lymph nodes. I don’t remember the doctor name for it. It was discovered early but totally resisted treatment. It was terrible to see her deteriorate in like five or six months.” Nancy tears up a little.

“Sorry I asked.”

“No, no, you needed to know. It was several years ago. And I’m grateful for this as I really haven’t spent time talking about Donna in a while.”

They hugged and after an awkward silence, she continued. “This is my will. I’m leaving everything to Donna’s children. She had four: Peg, Patrick, Gregory, and Melanie. Peg has a son, Jacob, he’s graduating from college next year. The boys have two kids each: Layne and Howard are Patrick’s children and Rebecca and Glenda are Gregory’s girls. Melanie looks a lot like you. She’s finally getting married in the fall. I doubt I’ll be able to attend. This is a picture of all them from Gregory’s wedding. And I have all their phone numbers here.”

“I probably won’t contact them.”

“Why not? They’re family.”

“And I’ve never met them.”

“Well, you’ll never meet them with that attitude.”

“I’m trying to convince her that socializing is a good thing,” John said.

“You listen to him.”

“I will, Momma.”

“I’m tired,” Nancy said. “I hope I’ll see you again. Have them add your name and number to my notification list.” She pushed a buzzer attached to her bed.

“I don’t have a phone.”

“Who doesn’t have a phone today?”

“Someone who’s been a mannequin for the last forty-five years.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

A nurse entered. “Did you need something Mrs. Delgado?”

“Yes, I need my granddaughter, Erica, added to my emergency contact list.”

“Okay, please stop by the front desk before you leave.”

“They’ll be leaving now. I need a nap. Give me a kiss good-bye.”

* * *

A few days later, John’s phone rang. The caller id said, “HOLBROOKEM”. He didn’t recognize it. “Hello?”

“Is Erica there?”

“She sometimes is,” John said, looking out his office door at Erica posed in the window of the store. “She isn’t available now. Can I take a message?”

“Tell her Melanie Holbrooke called. I think Erica is my aunt.”

“Oh, you’re Donna’s daughter.”

“Yes, did you recently visit your grandmother?”

“Yes, she told me a fanciful tale that my long lost aunt is a mannequin. When I spoke to the doctor afterward he assured me Gramma had not been showing signs of senility. And then I found her name on the contact list at the front desk. What kind of scam are you trying to pull on my grandmother?”

“I assure you, there is no scam. We should meet so you can meet Erica.” He suggested they meet at his home but she wanted nothing to do with meeting a strange man at his home. Instead, he suggested the boutique.

She arrived the next day.

The Truth - Chapter 8

At his apartment, he penned a delicious meal, which they ravenously ate. “We went too long without food, I think.” He said. “I barely tasted that.” He got up and put the DVD on his desk in the player.

Sandra tore off a piece of bread and followed him to the sofa. “This bread is amazing. I’m going to have to workout at the gym tomorrow.”

“I could change that.”

The DVD started immediately with a long shot of the bed. Sandra and Debra were lip-locked and going at it.

Jon hit the alternate view button on the remote. The view became an overhead close-up of their faces. “Cool, it has special features.”

He hit the button again. The view became a close-up of their fingers in each other’s pussy.

“Oh, God, that was hot,” Sandra admitted. She lowered the hand far from Jon to her waist and slowly moved it toward her crotch.

He hit the button again. The view became a side shot of their breasts bumping into each other.

“How many camera’s were there?”

Jon looked at her and said, “Just the four.” He clicked it back to the fingering shot. “Here, join in the fun right here.”

She looked at him. “Better yet,” she said unzipping her skirt. “You do it so it’ll feel just like it did on the video.”

He scooted closer to her and reached into her pants. “Okay, just watch the video.” His fingers enter her dry pussy. It slicked up instantly. At first he stayed away from her clit touching it as if by mistake every now and then. Before the sex in the video was about to end he jumped the video back to the beginning. This time through he was more direct in his stimulation.

She leaned in closer to him. She reached up and pulled his head closer to hers. She planted a full, passionate kiss on him, holding his head against hers.

He paused the DVD and dropped the remote. He straddled over her so he could use his free hand to pull her skirt down. She accommodated this by lifting up off the sofa when he pulled. After a few moments, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He sat her on the end of the bed and started removing his clothes, making out the whole time. He stopped fingering her and slipped just the tip of his dick in. He lifted her legs up over his head and as she lay backward entering her fully. Quickly their thrusts and counter thrusts developed a heady rhythm. When she orgasmed the pleasure of her squeezing against his dick was unbearable and he orgasmed as well.

After a few moments, he stepped back and joined her on the bed.

She looked at him curiously.

“What?” he asked.

“No compulsions, no pretexts, no magic, just the two of us fucking,” she replied.

“Fancy that,” he said.

She rolled over to face him. “I’m serious. When it was just exploring the magic pen it didn’t have any meaning. But now…”

“You’re saying now it has meaning?”

She nodded.

“Obviously, I’ve been attracted to you for some time.”

“You mean because you picked me as your first victim.”

He shrugged, taking her hand in his. “Um, yeah. As I was saying, I’m not going to say I’m in love but I don’t think anything we’ve been doing has been without meaning.”

“Good,” she said. “I’d have been frightened as much by an admission of love as I would have been if you’d said it was meaningless.”

He looked confused.

“I don’t want to be just a convenient body for your experiments.”

“So, I shouldn’t just enslave you? I should wait until you ask.”

She smiled. She slid off the bed and as she headed for the bathroom, she turned and winked. “Exactly.”

He put on his bathrobe and went out to the desk. He was obviously thinking as she entered. “Do you want to go to work tomorrow?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t want to go to work. We need a break from sex. I’m trying to figure out how to make a lot of money without it being obvious.”

“No mansion on the hills from nowhere?”

“I don’t think that would fit my uncle’s definition of subtle.”

“You could win the lottery.”

“No,” he responded. “There’s all sorts of publicity with that. Eventually someone would decide I was newsworthy and investigate.”

“Same problem with gambling then, or playing the stock market.”

“Yes, although the stock market works for continuing income, I don’t see an easy way to jump start it that wouldn’t be suspicious.”

“Then you just need a bankroll.”

“Essentially.”

“I still like the lottery idea. Just don’t win a lot of money. A couple hundred thousand should suffice.”

“I can’t quit my job on that little money.”

“No, you can quit your job on your pen.”

He looked confused.

“You don’t actually need any of the money,” she explained. “You just need to have an account somewhere so that when someone discovers you living in a mansion they can trace where the money came from. Win the lottery. Quit your job. That’s not wise but no one says you can’t be unwise. Invest half the money in stocks that just happen to perform well and eventually you will have millions. Especially if you never actually spend the money.”

“Won’t that be suspicious by itself? The IRS is ruthless.”

“If you don’t arouse suspicion otherwise, who’s going to look into your business any time soon?”

He smiled, “But then I can’t have a mansion with a harem tomorrow.”

“Maybe a small one,” she replied.

“Mansion or harem?”

“I don’t think acquisition of a sex slave has a monetary value in the tax code.”

“You’re right. Mansions have a definite value.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Just remember when you write it to limit your payout.”

“Actually, if around a hundred grand will work, I might be able to get that much out of Ms. Beed.”

“You shouldn’t aim so high with her. People will wonder what service you provided.”

He snapped his fingers. “I could have her make me a partner and then increase the income of the shop by magic, slowly over time.”

“That might work in addition to the lottery idea. In fact, you could take the winnings and invest it in her shop, on paper.”

“Okay, so let me magic up a lottery ticket.”

“No, go out and buy it. Your face needs to show up in the surveillance cameras.”

“Oo, good point.” He spoke aloud as he wrote: “When I next buy a lottery ticket for a drawing worth twenty to thirty million dollars, the number picked randomly by the lottery machine will match the lottery tickets of eleven other lottery tickets. When the drawing for those tickets happens, the numbers shared by those 12 tickets will be the winning numbers.”

“Very nice. No one will care about one winning ticket among twelve.” She said.

“I do have the occasional good idea.” He said, “Now for some fun.” He wrote: “No one will confront or harm Sandra or myself whenever we go out.” He thought about it a moment and realized he would not want to be accosted ever so he scratched out sentence and wrote “No one will confront, harm or attack Sandra, Debra, myself or anyone accompanying any of us.

“When next we go out, no police officers will notice anything unusual about Sandra. No more than once every few minutes a random person near her will be compelled to feel Sandra’s outfit and perhaps make either a complimentary or rude comment about it. Afterward, the person will go about their business and not bother Sandra again. When I next say ‘Now’, two small padlocks and a key to both of them will appear in my pocket.”

He wrote more instructions for several more minutes. When he finished he said, “It’s around seven now. We can go get a lottery ticket right now. But first, let me read this aloud. I hope you like zentai. It says, ‘When I finish reading this aloud, Sandra will become enveloped from head to toe in a lavender, seamless zentai outfit made of a lycra-spandex like material that cannot be cut with normal shears or knives. The Zentai suit has stiff, patent leather mitten hands, each ending with a D-ring. The lower legs of the Zentai suit are made of lavender, patent leather boots with five-inch stiletto heels. There is a D-ring attached to the back of each leather boot. The area where her eyes are located are made of a nylon mesh she can see through but no one can see into. A thin patent-leather collar surrounding the neck provides a D-ring where a four-foot long, lavender-colored, leather leash hangs from the neck. There is a D-ring at the end of the leash and eight-inches from the hanging end. A longhaired, blonde wig is attached atop the Zentai head. The next time I say, “Now,” Sandra will become incapable of voluntary speech until she gets out of the Zentai suit.’”

The look of shock on her face disappeared behind the purple material. She pawed at her useless hands. “How am I going to get out this suit?”

“Most likely the same way you get in,” he proposed. “Now, let’s go buy a lottery ticket.”

She remained sitting on the sofa, shaking her head.

“Don’t make me use the leash. Let’s go.”

Her posture sagged. She stood up with some difficulty. She paused in front of the wall mirror, taking in what was basically her naked body standing there, but lavender. She shook her head and walked to the door. The D-ring at the end of the leash was bouncing against her thighs as she walked. The D-ring above it occasionally poked her crotch.

“I command you to stay behind me when we are walking, no closer than five steps unless I’m holding the leash.”

He walked out the door, locking it behind him and went downstairs. When he reached the landing he turned to see how well she was handling the stairs in the heels. “You’ve very good with high heels. We’ll try six-inch next time.”

“Next time?” she thought. She was regretting him finding out she wanted to be humiliated. She managed the stairs okay. She was glad the heels weren’t higher. In the lobby he gallantly offered to let her open the door, with its key-like lock first. She held up both hands, giving him the finger twice, not that he could tell.

He smiled and opened the door.

It was cool outside and she had no idea spandex could be drafty. They walked up the block and he passed the nearest convenience store. “Where is he taking me?” she wondered. Every eye she met was looking in her direction, rarely into her eyes. A man stopped not far from her and she went around him.

“Oh,” she exclaimed as a hand squeezed her ass.

“Nice ass, lady,” the man said.

She looked back but couldn't really do anything. The man had already turned and continued on his way. She turned back and Jon had not even stopped. She hurried to catch up to him. She wanted to walk closer to him. While she couldn’t get too close, he could easily get too far away for her comfort.

“Oh, I love the color of this fabric,” said a woman Sandra was passing. The woman rubbed Sandra’s arm a couple times then turned and walked away.

“Oh, God, he did this to me,” Sandra thought. Jon had moved away again and she saw him heading for the subway. “No, he couldn’t just go to the place on our street, could he?”

She almost stumbled on the stairs. She saw him swipe his transit card at a turnstile and walk through. She followed him right up to the same turnstile and it did not turn. She looked around. People were staring at her.

A man waved his card at her turnstile. He said, “You look like you could use some help.”

She put her hands together and bowed to him as she stepped through the turnstile.

“You’re welcome, my dear.” A funny look came over him and he reached out and tweaked her nipple. “Paid in full,” he said and walked away.

Sandra stood there in shock for a moment then saw Jon standing by a column. She could just see from the smirk on his face that he had heard the entire exchange. She approached him but could not get close.

Jon walked up to her and said, “I was going to pay the guy back. But now I don’t have to.”

A train arrived. As Jon turned to get on, she had to wait until he was far enough on the train to follow him. The doors closed immediately as she entered. She thought about sitting but decided trying to stand up might be hard. As the train lurched forward she realized she could not really hold on with her hands. She moved to one of the vertical poles and wrapped an arm around it.

A woman behind her said, “Joachim, get over here.”

Something tapped the back of her leg and she heard a small voice say, “She’s shiny.”

The woman repeated her admonishment.

Sandra decided not to look down or turn around and was relieved when she heard the child walk back to his mother.

Shortly the train stopped and Jon walked off. Sandra moved the other way toward a different door so she wouldn’t have to wait before following him. A man getting on the train reached out and gave her right boob a quick fondle without saying anything.

Sandra tried to ignore the sensation and saw Jon go through the turnstiles to the 9th Avenue exit and realized where they were going. Sure enough, when she reached the top of the stairs out of the subway, she spotted Jon walking on Mercer towards Beed’s Boutique, three blocks away.

The light at 8th Avenue was red and she had to wait awkwardly five paces away from the corner. When she was looking a different way, a man stepped right up and grabbed her upper arms as he rubbed himself up and down her body saying, “I bet you love to dance, Chica.” She became unbalanced and he righted her before letting go and walking away.

The light turned green and she followed Jon up the block. Jon walked only a few feet and she had to stop at the corner. He walked toward her and said, “I’m going to that store over there but I don’t want to be caught on camera with someone dressed like you following me around.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. He took hold of the leash and looped it around a lamppost. When he let go, she saw him putting a padlock through the two D-rings on the end of the leash. He grabbed her arms while she was still surprised, pulling them behind her. Before she could react, she heard a click. He crossed to the convenience store across the street without another word.

She watched him walk away with mixed emotions. She could only be more embarrassed if he had used a bicycle lock to chain her to the post. Having her arms bound behind her added to her utter feeling of helplessness. Knowing that feeling vulnerable was the whole point did not make it any better.

She felt someone touching the wig. The woman stepped around and asked, “How did you attach the wig? I can never find an adhesive that doesn’t damage my suit.”

Sandra did not know how to respond and decided to shrug.

“Oh, cat got your tongue, deary?” the woman asked, nodding. “I understand. I wish had the figure and guts to walk around outside like that. I’ll be going. Wouldn’t want to get your master angry.” She fiddled with the wig again before walking away.

Immediately after she left, a man grabbed Sandra’s crotch and gave it quick rub pushing a finger inward as far as the fabric would let him. It felt embarrassingly good to be rubbed down there through the fabric. Sandra was thankful he had not commented on the feel of her pussy. She would have laughed if she could since she had thought the woman had been part of the people touching her programming but apparently she was just an enthusiast.

Two other people groped her before Jon returned. He unlocked the leash but not her arms and led her up the block.

She had to walk carefully because she could not move her arms to keep steady. She was relieved that Jon wasn’t walking too quickly and probably aware of her difficulty. She was glad the store wasn’t far away.

“Here we are,” Jon announced as they reached the display window of Beed’s Boutique. Debra’s immobile form was exactly where they had left it. “Stand over there Sandra so Debra can get a good look at you.”

She moved over to where he had indicated, though he still held the leash.

“Turn around so she can see your arms.”

She could see no benefit to disobeying, so she turned and even made a show of lifting her arms so it was obvious they were locked together. Just then she felt a hard spank against her ass. She turned and a man walking by smiled.

To Jon, the man said, “She all yours?”

“Lock, stock and barrel.”

“Lucky dog,” the man replied as he turned to walk away.

“Hey!” Jon called, “You want to borrow her?

The man looked back, “I don’t think the wife would appreciate it.”

Jon laughed.

“How much?” called another voice. Three guys walked across the street toward Jon.

Sandra was looking at Jon petrified with fear, not that he could tell.

Jon looked at them, “Sorry, fellows. She’s not for sale.”

The man reached into his pants. “I got five g’s that say she is.”

Poll: Buying The Wife A Gift - 2024 edition

I've created a 5th image in the Buying the Wife a Gift CAP series. It'll be out toward the end of the month. But, in so doing, I've been looking at the old CAPs and my editor brain took over. Below is the 2nd CAP in the series Wearing The Gift To My Wife. And if you look at the original, link below, the text is cut off. It says "Wait? What was that". But in my image file, the text says, "Wait? What was that last thought?" A totally different ending. So, I fixed it. Then I changed a couple other things. And then I thought about color. I worry the color is a bit ham-fisted.

I'm curious what your thoughts are on making an update to CAP-Wearing The Gift To My Wife. This was originally released Feb 4, 2019. I'll probably upload the update to deviant Art this February to mark the CAP's 5th anniversary. Please post if you spot a typo.

Link to the original

Ted's Dolls 33: Emily 7

If you haven't read any of the prior Ted's Dolls stories, you should start with Ted's Dolls 1: Jane before reading this one. The role-playing game content of this story follows from Ted’s Dolls 28: Emily 6. The wizardry content follows from Ted’s Dolls 31: Jane 4. Ted’s Dolls 25: Jane 3 might also be a helpful memory aid.

Emily and Richard arrived just a bit late to the poker game that evening. Beverly, Rhana, and Whitney were already dolled up and standing near the bedroom door to cheer the players on. “Hi, Richard. Emily. Not staying tonight?”

“Oh, I’m staying,” she said, removing her winter coat. The December cold had settled in on Monday and had taken her by surprise as she and Richard had been a dolls all day Monday and Tuesday. She set the coat down on a sofa and sized up the other dolls. “Do you think I’d look good here between Rhana and Beverly?”

“I think you look good wherever you are,” Richard said.

“Smooth,” Murat said.

She stood where she had said and posed before the transformation started.

“Did she just…?” Earl said.

“Yes, I’m dating a witch.”

“That’s so cool.”

“Yes, it’s cool until you end up a doll for three days. Right, Richard?” Rob said.

“You heard about that?”

“Bev heard it from Trish who heard it from Paris.”

“Are you sure what you heard wasn’t mangled in that telephone chain?” Murat said.

“Given the evidence in front of us, it was not.”

* * *

Doll watched the sunrise. Doll saw Owner walk into the dorm. Doll heard the door to the room open and close. Doll waited, content that Owner was home. Doll felt Owner’s hands reach around from behind and play with Doll’s boobs. Doll liked how it felt. Doll hoped for more. Owner spent some time fondling Doll before letting go of Doll.

“Morning, Jane. Hope you enjoyed your evening. I have to leave. I wish I had time to find out how long this takes. It’s 7:46 right now.”

Jane turned around. Emily was not in the room. She looked at her phone. It was 8:39. It took less than an hour for Emily’s magic to work. Though, this was not the first thing on Jane’s mind. She was hornier than she could ever remember feeling before and had to do something about that before she could even think about going to classes.

* * *

Emily was in the room when Jane returned from classes. “That was so cool,” Jane said. “Before you leave, do it again.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be a doll.”

“It was so much sexier when you did it compared to Ted.”

“Really?”

“It was great when Ted did it, no doubt. But just standing there last night felt pretty good. And I enjoyed getting rubbed in the morning, you naughty thing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Problem is I’m headed to Richard’s room in five minutes and won’t be back before going to my game tonight.”

“Do it now. I have no plans tonight. Saves me money on food too.”

“If you insist. It’s only three o’clock. You might be a doll till eight in the morning,” Emily warned. “I almost forgot, how long did it take this morning?”

“Around 50 minutes.”

Jane was still transforming when Emily left a few minutes later.

Emily got into Richard’s room before he got back from classes. She hoped he wasn’t planning any detours before returning to his room. She removed her top and bra and lay down on the floor under his desk. She transformed.

Instantly, she couldn’t move. Emily thought it was weird that she wasn’t aware of the transformation when she was the transformer. She was thinking of herself as Emily and that was a small victory. It was also a bit boring. Richard must have gone somewhere else after classes. She knew one way to make laying under his desk less boring. It was like reaching out to touch a switch.

Doll was happy Emily had put Doll in charge. Poor Emily was “board”. Doll was amused at its joke. Doll was not bored. Doll hoped Owner would foot rub its tits soon.

Doll waited.

Doll got excited when Doll heard the door to the dorm open.

Doll waited.

Owner stood above Doll. “I hope you managed to make it to class and then came back here.”

Doll had done what Owner had told it.

“I suppose something wants a boob footjob.”

Yes, please, Owner, Doll thought. Doll was happy when Doll heard Owner’s shoes drop to the floor.

Owner opened the laptop on the desk and sat down to catch up on his reading. He massaged Doll’s tits with his feet.

Doll soon blissed.

* * *

Richard and Emily arrived at Rhana and Earl’s place several minutes late. Earl had managed not to make enough food for an orc hoard. As soon as Emily arrived, Rhana had questions:

“When did you become a wizard?

“What’s it like to cast a spell?

“Can you turn me into a doll?

“Does Ted know?

“What does Ted think?

“Can you teach me how?

“Can you turn me into a doll?”

Emily held her hands up in self-defense. “Whoa, whoa. I’ll tell you everything as we eat.”

“Rhana, I told you the answers to half those questions,” Earl said.

“I’d prefer a first hand account.”

Emily, with Richard’s input, told Rhana and Earl all about the last few days where Emily discovered her ability and then got stuck as a doll for three days. This included all the speculation from Ted on how she got her powers. Dishes from dinner were being washed as the last of Rhana’s questions were finally answered.

“Jane is a doll right now?”

“Ted asked you not to experiment,” Richard said.

“He did. But he knew I would.”

* * *

“The party emerges from the forest near sundown after three days travel and a few too many battles. Two of the men-at-arms died and four more were wounded. It was a good thing they had found a cart in the monastery. Originally, it was so the victims of the gorgon wouldn’t have to walk. Now they had plenty of horses to ride for everyone able to ride and the wounded were using the cart,” Earl narrated. “Before you is open plains and in the distance you can see the silhouette of Highpointe on the horizon.

“You continue your trek back to civilization. It seems like you will spend one more night under the stars before reaching the city gates tomorrow evening. Sir Lyle, you point to a hill a short way off the road to Highpointe. You remember there being a village there and there are some this wisps of smoke in that direction.”

“’I stayed in a small village over there on my way to the monastery a few months ago,’ Lyle says. ‘Perhaps we can find an inn there.’”

“’Sounds good to me,’” Emily said as Princess Mylya. “’Lead the way.’”

“The owner of the inn is happy to greet the obviously noble woman and her entourage. He is less happy when Sir Abraham asks about somewhere to bury the dead.”

“Can I make a roll to prevent him from overcharging us too much? I’m sure I’ll be overcharged either way. But I’d rather pump money into the economy by spreading it around rather than concentrating it on this one inn owner’s pockets,” Emily said. “In fact, I tell Abraham to make sure money goes directly to the stable hands and service staff rather than all in a lump to the inn keeper.”

“The Princess is also an economics master,” Richard joked.

“Abraham smiles and says, ‘You are very wise for one so young.’”

“Lady Elswood is turned on by this redistribution of wealth plan.”

“Of course she is.”

* * *

The older gentleman stuck out like a sore thumb as he strode through the dormitory vestibule. No one seemed to mark his passage or that of the two less confident men accompanying him. When they got to the room on the fourth floor, one of the accomplices said, “Force the lock?”

“No, wait here.”

The older man walked over to a door proclaiming to the be the room of the resident assistant. He just stood there.

“What is it?” A young man said through the door.

The older man said nothing.

“You locked yourself out? That’s not like you, Emily.”

The older man looked up and down the corridor and still was silent.

The door opened. The resident assistant said, looking at no one, “Couldn’t Jane let you in?”

His conversation remained one-sided.

“You couldn’t wake her. But you could wake me?”

“Yes, it is my job.”

He unlocked the door and pushed it open to left Emily enter.

“The keys are on your desk? Good. I hate filling out paperwork for lost keys.”

“You, too. Good night.”

He went back to his room as the three men entered the dorm room.

* * *

Doll heard the door open. Owner was home early, it thought. Doll could not recall Owner walking into the dormitory. Maybe Owner would have time to play with Doll tonight.

Doll was disappointed when Doll heard men talking.

“Grab that blanket and wrap up the mannequin. The boss will be happy to see her.”

“She ain’t a mannequin, Mr. M.”

“She isn’t?”

“No, she seems more like one of those dolls,” the assistant said as he and the other assistant started to wrap up the doll in the blanket.

Mr. M examined the doll. “Hm. Well, I’m sure the boss won’t really mind either way. He’s getting his prize.”

Doll was not happy. Doll did not care what men were doing. But, now Doll could not see out the window.

“Take her to the truck. I’ll clean up a couple loose ends here.”

“You want us to wait for you in the truck?”

“No, take the doll to the boss immediately. I’ll get a ride to the penthouse on my own.”

“Okay, Mr. M.”

Doll was surprised when Doll was picked up. It felt good to be handled by the men. Doll hoped the men might use Doll. Doll had not been used in too long. Doll was carried out of the room. Was this a surprise from Owner? Doll wasn’t sure. Doll wished it could see where it was going.

* * *

Night falls and the tavern attached to the inn is entirely empty except for your troupe.

“The next time the server stops by, Mylya will ask her why none of the locals are drinking here tonight,” Emily says.

“The tavern girl brings a round of drinks and when you ask your question she leans down close. She says, ‘Folk don’t go out at night any more because of... the problem.’”

“’Problem? What kind of problem?’ the Princess asks.”

“’Dead rise from the graveyard at night. Go back before dawn.’ the girl says. ‘So it’s safe enough during the day. But the last person who stumbled out of here after dusk never made it home.’”

“’Princess, this isn’t our problem. These aren’t even your people.’ Sir Abraham says.”

“’All people are my people and they’re your people too. These good folk should not be afraid to go out for a drink.’”

Earl said, “It’s late. Should we stop here and deal with the problem next time?”

“Finals are in two weeks,” Richard said. “If we can deal with this quickly, we’ll be able to have a shorter session next week.”

“I agree. Let’s press on,” Emily said.

“Shortly, half the men-at-arms, Sirs Abraham and Lyle, Lady Elswood and Princess Mylya, and the former adventurer, Garand Orlack were walking toward the graveyard. A scout rushes up to Sir Abraham, ’Some figures moving in the graveyard. They don’t look too healthy.’

“’How many?’

“’At least a dozen.’

“’This sounds very dangerous, Princess. Lady Elswood, talk some sense into her.’”

“’Oh, they’re probably just some zombies. We’ll be fine.’”

After the first round of combat, one of the men-at-arms was struck by the undead and his body locked in place.

“’Are these ghouls?’ Garand says. ‘Ghouls can paralyze when they touch you. Then they eat you alive.’”

“That’s unpleasant.” Emily said. “’They must be stopped.’”

“’Certainly not how I like being eaten,’” Rhana said, probably in character.

Richard laughed. “’You’ll have time for that later, Lady Elswood,’ Sir Lyle said.”

“Although the men-at-arms and the knights out of habit form a ring around the Princess, in the heat of the battle, one of the ghouls manages to reach the Princess,” Earl said. He rolled some dice. “Does a 16 hit?”

“That’s my armor class,” Emily said.

Earl rolled another die. “Eight points of damage and you need to make a saving throw.”

“Oh, no. Four.”

“You feel your body become stiff.”

“Cool. Here goes.”

“She isn’t,” Rhana said. “It’s supposed to be me. No fair.”

“She is.”

“You did this, the ghouls, on purpose. Didn’t you, Earl?” Richard said.

“Who’s to say?” Earl said.

Three other men-at-arms were paralyzed. Most of them were wounded. The ghouls were defeated but the group had no way to restore the four men or the Princess.

“’It should wear off by morning,’ Lady Elswood says. ‘We should be more worried about any of those bitten becoming ghouls themselves.’”

“’There is a local priest who might be able to help.’ Lyle says he saw a church to the light goddess when he was last in the village.”

“Well, with Emily overacting here, I think we should stop for the night,” Richard said.

“Makes sense,” Earl said. “I do believe you’ve leveled up after the two fights in the forest plus this one. Have you read the rules enough to update your characters for next week without my help?”

He was looking at both Emily and Richard, but she was indisposed at the moment. “Yeah, I can muddle through. You want me to roll hit points now?”

“Oh, yes. Good idea.”

“Is Emily part of Ted’s Exhibition this weekend? I meant to ask her earlier.”

“No, she isn’t,” Richard said. “I’m doing some work for Ted. Flow control at the entrance. But I haven’t heard that Emily would be participating.”

* * *

Richard carried Emily to his dorm. It seemed like she wanted to stay a doll. He managed to have a bit of fun with her before he went to sleep. In the morning, she was still a doll. He wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t even sure if he spoke to her she would be awake to hear it.

He thought he knew one way to wake her up.

Doll was jolted awake as Owner pleasured Doll. Doll loved Owner. Doll loved being used by Owner. Doll was close to blissing when Owner said. “Emily, you have to be you or you’ll get stuck again.”

Why was Owner talking to Emily when Owner was playing with Doll? Doll was confused. And then Doll was Emily. Richard was talking to Emily because she was Emily. She should turn back to normal, she thought. But Richard wasn’t done with her. Being played with as a doll felt far better than being played with as a human. So, she remained a doll until he finished.

Richard repeated his warning to Emily even as he brought himself to climax. After a few deep breaths he said, “I have to leave. I better not find you here, Emily. You have classes to go to. Turn back.” He picked her up and pointed her toward the clock on his side table before he left.

While it was instantaneous for her, it was still nearly half an hour to change according to the clock she was looking at. She got up and rushed back to her dorm room. When she opened the door to her room, she noticed Jane wasn’t there. Had Ted restored her? She closed the door and suddenly couldn’t move.

“Where have you been?” A voice said in her mind. “I had to wait here all night for your return, whelp.”

Emily felt something forcing its way into her mind and it hurt. She wanted to lash out at the attacker but couldn’t see where he was. After a moment, she dropped to the floor unconscious.

“You’re going to be dangerous eventually. But you’re just a runt now,” Mr. M said. His voice dripped with disgust. “Oh, you whore. Wizards don’t get fucked by chattel. They fuck chattel. You like paralyzing yourself for pleasure. Pathetic. Haven’t you noticed your friend Ted doesn’t get fucked. He fucks. Wait, you call that boy Owner? You need to be taught a lesson.”

Emily’s body twisted in agony as his invectives were accompanied by his tampering with her memory.

When he was finished, he took the Bittolé dress he had found hanging in Jane’s closet. He also took her laptop and her phone. No one runs off and leaves their phone behind, he thought. He gave the room one last look before leaving.

Emily was tucked neatly in her bed, sound asleep, unaware Mr. M even existed.

The Truth - Chapter 7

Jon woke up lazily. After stretching for a few moments he glanced at the clock. It was after 1 pm. “Huh?” He did not believe the girls had not been calling him since dawn. He looked at his cell phone: no missed calls. Shrugging, he got up and took a quick shower. He dressed in one of the suits he wore when he had to be presentable at work and went into the living room. He was starving. He was about to use the pen to make something to eat but wondered if he should do it for one or for three.

There had to be some way to gain information with the pen, he reasoned. He wrote: “When I finish writing this sentence, where and what Sandra and Debra are doing will appear written on this paper below the sentence.”

The words “Sandra is asleep on her living room sofa. Debra is asleep standing in the bathroom.” appeared on the page.

“Standing?” he wondered. “How could she sleep standing…?” He flipped through the previously written pages and read the words to the ‘Go to sleep’ ability. He realized he could be on a different continent and those words would put them both to sleep. Reading it further he actually had to say the wake up command to them. “I’m brilliant,” he thought. He rewrote the sleep command so it only worked if he was with them. He also made it possible to wake them both by saying ‘ladies’ in place of their names. Then he wrote: “When I put the pen in its case and put the case in my pocket, only I can retrieve it from my pocket. When in my pocket, the case cannot be noticed by anyone but me.

“A key to Sandra’s apartment is on my desk as I finish this sentence.”

He put the pen in its case and put it into his pocket. He picked up the key and left his apartment. He crossed the hall and let himself into the girls’ apartment.

Sandra was slumped on the sofa still wearing the green outfit. He went to the bathroom where he smelled urine faintly and found the door ajar. Debra was naked from the waist down and asleep. He laughed at the odds of catching her right at that moment. He reached around her and flushed for her.

He went back to the living room and found some paper. He wrote: “The next time I say, ‘Now,’ Sandra and Debra will appear on Sandra’s bed, fully awake, horny, naked, and embracing one another passionately. They are in the middle of a full on, mouths open, tongues-deep kiss. Each has two fingers deep into the other’s slick pussy. Their free hands cannot stop caressing and groping the other’s body. They are hot and sweaty; their hair is matted down in places and that sweat has caused the sheets to be stuck to various parts their bodies. They believe they have been making out for quite some time. They each believe the other initiated the encounter last night. Any inhibitions about same-sex sex are suppressed until they find out who actually initiated the encounter. They are so focused on one another that they are total oblivious everything else for the first five minutes after they appear on the bed.

“When I finish this sentence, a full set of professional lighting equipment, sound recording equipment, and four professional digital video cameras suspended from the ceiling will appear in Sandra’s room, aimed at the place they will appear on the bed when I next say ‘Now.’ When I next say, ‘Now’ the equipment will record everything Sandra and Debra do on the bed until I say ‘Stop recording.’ At that point, the cameras and lighting equipment will disappear. At the same time, as many DVDs as necessary to contain the raw footage from the cameras will appear in the bottom drawer of the desk in my living room.

“The next time I say ‘Cleaned up,’ Sandra and Debra will be standing in front of me; their bodies completely clean, their hair and makeup flawless. They become fully dressed with accessories in whatever outfits they were planning to wear to the boutique Debra works at.

“If Debra’s boss is not already at the boutique she will make sure she arrives there within an hour. Once she is there she will not leave until she sees us about Debra’s job.”

He moved to the bedroom doorway and said, “Now.”

Sandra and Debra unknowingly put on an amazing show of lust. For over five minutes they made out like the world was about to end. In the end, they rolled to one side and the cameras moved with them causing Debra to turn Sandra's head away. She exclaimed, “Where the fuck did all that stuff come from?”

Sandra leaned forward to kiss Debra again until she saw a lighting rig. “I think I have a clue.”

“Hello, ladies,” Jon announced, waving from the doorway. “Is this a bad time?”

“How did you get into our apartment?” Debra shrieked trying to cover herself with a sweaty sheet.

“That wasn’t difficult,” he replied. “Stop recording,” The equipment vanished. “I thought we were going to the boutique. It’s almost two o’clock.”

“Oh, fuck,” exclaimed Debra. “I’m missing work again.”

“How did it get so late?” Sandra wondered.

“So tell me, do you do this often?” Jon asked.

They looked at one another. Debra spoke first, “Can we discuss this after we get dressed?”

“Sure,” he answered. “Once your all cleaned up you can tell me all about it.” Instantly they disappear from the bed and reappear fully cleaned and clothed in front of him. He adds, “Very nice. I like that look on you, Debra. So tell me all about it.”

Debra looked at herself, “This is what I was going to wear.” She felt her hair, “That pen is so convenient.”

Sandra added, “Sure, especially if you want to film your neighbors for a porno.”

“You are both avoiding the question.”

“When we go back last night Debra went to the bathroom and the next thing I knew she said she was so horny she thought we could….”

Debra interrupted, “I said? You came on to me reminding me how cool it was when I was a mannequin until I was too horny to resist you.”

Sandra turned to Jon pleading, “That’s not at all how it happened. She…” She stopped as he held up the pen. “You! I am not a lesbian. Or bi. Or….”

“I kind of enjoyed it,” Debra said quietly.

“You did?” Sandra asked.

“I even liked the cameras. I was just confused as to where they came from. You stopped.”

“We learn something new every day,” Jon remarked. “Shall we get going?”

“Will there be any other surprises?”

“Why would I tell you?”

* * *

The storefront to Beed’s Boutique was a single paned glass enclosure open to the store with two mannequins displaying the latest fashions. An obvious gap between the mannequins existed. The front door was on the right side. A small bell jingled as they entered.

The store was rather shallow with just a few racks in front. Through a door in the back was a hallway of doors, presumably dressing rooms. A stockroom and office were probably opposite the changing area. At the sound of the bell, the young woman at the counter looked up. She picked up the phone and pressed a single button, spoke a few words and hung up.

A tall, fashion-conscious woman who obviously worked out religiously stepped from the doorway into the main room. Her eyes alighted on Debra instantly. But her attitude of rancor vanished as she noticed Sandra and Jon there. “Are you together?” she asked.

Jon said, “Actually all three of us are. Can we go someplace quiet to talk about Debra’s work here?”

“I don’t see why not. This way.” She turned and led them to her office. Her office was neat and well arranged. She indicated the two chairs in front of her desk as she sat down behind it. Sandra and Jon sat down and Debra stood behind them.

Jon spoke, “Mrs. Beed?”

“Ms, but please, call me Dorothy.”

“Dorothy, I noticed your store window is missing something this afternoon and I am afraid it is my fault. I am an inventor and I was working with Debra to perfect something you might find useful for your displays.”

“I certainly am intrigued. What would this something be?”

“What if you had the most life-like mannequin ever? So life-like because it is an actual woman transformed into a mannequin.”

“That is why I hired Debra as a living mannequin. People respond best to real people. Mannequins that become too life-like tend suffer from the uncanny valley effect.”

“Exactly, but human models need to rest and to move breaking the illusion from the other direction. With my help, Debra can hold a pose all day now.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Are you a gambling woman, Dorothy?”

“You want to bet whether she can stand still for a day?” Dorothy laughed. “How much are you going to pay out?”

“Before my assistant and I leave, Debra will be posed in your front window. She will remain there for three days until I return Wednesday evening.”

“Make it Tuesday, I’m busy Wednesday,” Dorothy said. “Not that she’ll last that long. How often will she stop to eat and drink?”

“Not once. You have surveillance cameras right? Every morning when you come in scan through the footage and you will see she has not budged since being posed.”

“You are crazy.”

“That was impolite,” Jon admonished. “The deal is if she succeeds, you restructure her work assignment to just a few days a week at four times her current hourly rate. If she fails, you don’t pay her for a month.”

“I like the idea of free help. Okay. Why not?” She looked up at Debra. “You really going to do this?”

“I can’t wait,” Debra replied.

Jon said, “Tell your girl out there to bring in whatever you want Debra to wear in the window and Debra can go to a changing room and put it on.”

“I’ll go out there myself. It will be faster.” Dorothy said getting up and leaving.

As soon as she left, Jon turned to Debra. “When you go to the changing room, get into the outfit and then become rigid. We’ll save the mannequin for the next bet. You like?”

Debra whispered in his ear, “If my pussy were normal I’d be very wet now.”

“Good thing it isn’t so you don’t ruin Ms Beed’s clothing.”

Debra stood up as Dorothy entered. “Here you go.” Dorothy held a red evening gown with a plunging neck-line. The back was bare down the whole back. “This dress never looks right on a mannequin because mannequins rarely have spines.”

“Tell her how she should pose before she goes.”

“Not in the window?”

“No, you’ll see.”

“I’ll play along.” Dorothy said. “I want something dynamic. Pretend there is someone standing over there that you are telling a secret to over your shoulder. So point with the left arm like this. There’s a matching clutch so keep your right arm close to the body like so. If you can do it, put all your weight on your left leg and let your right leg kind of sweep behind you.”

“Not a problem,” Debra said. “Where’s the clutch?”

“Get it from Tabitha.”

Jon interrupted, “One more thing. Take that marker on your desk and make a mark on the back of Debra’s knee. An X or circle or something and make sure no one sees it.”

“What?”

“Humor me. Bend down, pull her tights down, make a unique mark, and pull the tights back up.”

“This is highly irregular but what the hell.” She bent down and made a secret mark.

“Okay, I’ll be changed in a jiff.”

Dorothy turned to Jon, “So how is she going to live with no salary?”

“For five thousand dollars, I’ll set you up like I’ve set up Debra.”

“What do you mean?”

“People who use living mannequins to model clothes usually have certain fetishes. I bet you would pay to be able to stand stiff as a mannequin for hours. I’m offering it to you for five grand right now. After we go see Debra, the offer is off the table.”

From outside the room they heard Debra faintly call, “I’m ready.”

“So, you aren’t crazy. You’re a hustler.” She stood up and walked out toward the dressing room.

“Your loss,” Jon said. He and Sandra got up and followed Debra.

Dorothy met them at the entrance to the changing area, “How did you do it? Is Tabitha in on it?” She called out loudly, “Tabitha!”

Tabitha entered. “When did they bring that in?” She pointed to the second changing room.

“Bring what in, Ms Beed?” She leaned in. “Hi, Debra. Debra?”

“Did Debra sneak out?”

“Ms Beed, I’ve been in front since they entered and no one has been in the front since Debra got the shoes she’s wearing in the stall.”

Jon grabbed a handcart. “Sandra, help me get Debra on the cart.”

“What are you two doing?”

“Moving Debra to the front window.”

“That is not Debra.”

“It most certainly is. Check for the mark.”

Dorothy looked at him incredulously. As if in a dream, she bent down behind Debra and lifted the full-length gown up to look behind her knee. “Fuck me,” she whispered. She stood up, poking at Debra. “She is hard as a rock.”

“I told you she wouldn’t move.”

“And you offered to do this to me for five grand.”

“Cost you more now.”

“And Tuesday she’ll return to normal.”

“Technically I never said that. She might be permanently like this and she’ll work for you all the time. Although, that would cost you a lot more, wouldn’t it?” Jon noticed Sandra stiffen in surprise at the word permanently. But she did not say anything.

“I could not afford to pay that much for a mannequin. Not even one as flawless as Debra.” Dorothy said still in shock. “Go ahead and bring her out front. Tabitha get back to the counter.”

Jon lifted Debra onto the cart with Sandra’s help and rolled her out to the empty space in the window. He picked her up onto the raised platform. “Which way do you want her pointing?”

Dorothy looked up at Debra. “Turn her to the right 15 to 20 degrees.” When Debra was turned the right way she said, “There, like that is good.”

“Well, we must be going. I'll see you Tuesday at around 7 PM?”

“That’ll be good. Ten thousand dollars?”

“Higher,” he whispered gesturing upward with his hand. “Good day.”

“Good bye,” Sandra added.

They walked out of the store and stopped to look back through the glass at Debra. Dorothy stepped out to look as well. “Twenty?”

Jon looked at her and waved. Then he turned and walked away. Sandra followed closely behind. “Twenty thousand is a lot of money.”

“Tip of the iceberg. Let her stand there staring at Debra for a couple days and we’ll see how much higher it goes. In fact, we’ll start ridiculously high and when she says she can’t we’ll show her Debra as a mannequin and double the high number.”

“I’ve changed my mind. You are evil.”

“Perhaps. What do you say we go back to my place and I’ll whip up a fabulous meal then we’ll engage in some kinky sex acts.”

“Or watch some lesbian porn.”

“Oh crap,” he exclaimed.

“What?”

“I still haven’t fucked Debra.”

“Poor baby.”

Unboxing Day

I wrote this, this morning when the thought, “Today is boxing day,” a day not really celebrated in the US, popped into my mind unbidden. Happy Boxing Day.

It was late Christmas Eve when Andy went into the garage and used a box cutter to open a large cardboard box that had been taking up a lot of spacefor the past three months. The box must have been thirty inches square and four feet long.

Inside the box was a heavy plastic and fiberglass case surrounded by Styrofoam glued to more strips of cardboard. The entire things was wrapped in a thick layer of bubble wrap. He cut away the outer box and put away the knife before fetching a couple large plastic trash bags. As he pulled the packing material away from the case, it immediately went into the trash bags. He knew if he didn’t do it now, traces of the packaging would end up floating about the garage for weeks. In a small baggie attached to one of the cardboard strips were two small brass keys. In a larger baggie was a packing slip and instructions.

He flipped through the few pages of instructions and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He got up and put the instructions and packing slip in the middle draw of a workbench. The drawer already contained many other sets of instructions and packing slips.

Free of the packaging, the black case inside was about two feet square and three feet long. He cut up the outer cardboard box and put it in the cardboard recycling bin. He took the trash bags out to the garbage cans outside. The case was similar in style to a hard shell case one might find a musical instrument inside. It had seven butterfly twist latches around the perimeter. They were all locked. He had to use the keys in the baggie to open them.

Finally, he lifted the lid. The box was hinged so that it opened fully with the top and bottom flat against the floor. The interior was lined in crushed black velvet. Individually wrapped in plastic and set inside shaped inserts in the velvet were the goods he’d been waiting to assemble.

Along one of the shortedges was a round, heavy, flat, metal disc about eighteen inches in diameter. The topside of the disc was chrome plated and the underside had long, curved, flat rubber strips.Along the edge of the case was a long metal dowel. He removed both and screwed the dowel into the center of the disc and set it down on the floor. He removed a squarish bag that stuck up out of bottom half of the case. The lid had an empty space where this lower abdomen was stored. There was an opening on theunderside of the crotch where it attached to the top of the dowel.

The legs were removed from the case and attached to the lower part of the torso. The upper torso was attached. The arms, hands, and feet followed. Finally he removed the plastic encasing the head. He turned it around a couple times before stopping to admire the face.

“Good morning, Linda. I hope you enjoyed being delivered,” he said. “I’ve cleared a place for you in the living room.” He attached the head to the mannequin and stepped back to admire it for a moment.

He cleaned up the plastic that had been wrapped around the mannequin parts. He closed the case and stood it up in a corner of the garage. He would need to find a better place to keep that. At least the case was smaller than the shipping box.

He separated Linda at the waist and carried her upper halfinto the living room. He set her down on the sofa. He went back to the garage and picked the lower half of the mannequin off the stand and carried them both into the living room.

He lay the mannequin on the sofa. He put the stand next to the Christmas tree that was set in front of a bay window. “What do you think? Here or here?” he asked the torso faced toward him. After moving the stand a few feet closer to the tree and the bay window looking out onto the street, he said,“Yes, closer to the window will give you something to look at during the day.”

He left the stand by the window and the two halves of the mannequin on the sofa as he went to the bedroom to get clothing for the mannequin.

He pulled individual black stockings up the legs of the mannequin. Green patent leather open-toed high heels were buckled onto its feet. He carried the lower half of the mannequin to the stand and attached them.

He removed the arms and head from the upper torso. He hooked a garter belt around the waist of the upper torso and attached it to the lower half already on the display stand. He clasped the stockings to the straps hanging from the belt.

A short-sleeve, v-neck dress of dark green, satin material and lacy trim was placed on the torso. He made sure it was sitting correctly on her before reattaching the arms.

He stood back to look at her again. He moved her a couple inches to the left and stood back again. “Perfect.”

He held the head in his hand and said, “Once I attach your head to the fully assembled and dressed body, the timer on your restoration begins.” He kissed the mannequin head before attaching it to the neck. A faintyellow shimmer of light emitted from the mannequin and faded as quickly as it came. “There you go. Just another six months, Linda. I hope this journey has been everything you’ve dreamed it would be.” He set a soft, triangular hat made of fuzzy green material and trimmed in white, faux fur on her head.

He gave the mannequin one more kiss before turning out the lights and leaving the room.

* * *

“Daddy, Daddy, wake up Santa was here,” Tyler screamed. Tyler was almost five years old.

“He was? How do you know that?” Andy said.

“There are presents by the tree. And one really special one,” Melissa said. She had just turned nine and knew more about Santa than Tyler did.

Andy allowed himself to be dragged into the living room. “See? See all the presents?” Tyler exclaimed. “And look, there’s Mommy.”

“I told you Mommy would be back soon.”

Melissa was already laying claim to her presents and setting them aside from Tyler’s presents.

“Did Santa deliver Mommy too?”

“Yes, Tyler.”

“Why is she a doll?”

“Because that’s what Mommy wanted for Christmas.”

Tyler sat down and was about to open a present when he stopped and gave the mannequin a hug. “Merry Christmas, Mommy.”

MANIP - Just Stand Right There

Just bit of floss for the holiday.

Transcript:

Woman: Sorry, I'm late. I hope I can still help.

Cotton Candy Seller: Better late than never. Hold this and just stand right there. This'll just take a second.

Woman: I thought you said you needed me to help you sell cotton candy?

CCS: No, I said I needed your body to help sell cotton candy.

Woman: Oh, so what do you need me to do?

CCS: You're already doing it.

Woman: I am?

CCS: Just stand right there. This'll just take a second. *SNAP*

Mannequin: ...

CCS: Get your cotton candy!! Cotton candy spun while you watch!!!

Five Minute Girl, Chapter 3

When the series was over, John activated Erica and went to bed. She went over to the window to watch the occasional passerby during the long boring night. Something was off. It wasn’t until the middle of the night that she could put her figurative finger on it. John had not talked during the show. He was always talking awkwardly around her as if she might join him in conversation. Tonight had been different. She hoped that wasn’t going to become an issue between them. This was the first time in ages she had felt remotely human.

She lost track of time as she fretted and she did not hear John walk up and activate her.

“Morning,” he said. “I've showered. We'll leave for the store soon.”

“Great, I'll get out of these pj's.” She went to the bedroom where there was a drawer of her clothes. She removed her pj's and then picked out clothes for the ride to work. She brought them into the living room before getting dressed in case she needed to be reactivated.

She was half-dressed when she froze. John must not have been paying attention as it took him a few minutes to reactivate her. That was unusual. Had she done something? She could not imagine what. Maybe it was something he expected that she had not done? She really had no clue.

When she could move she decided not to bring up her concerns yet. She waited until they were in the car. After he pulled out of the parking space, she said, “You never said what you thought of the show last night.”

“It was good,” he said.

She paused as he usually followed such a statement with a long speech about some aspect of the show. Nothing. “I thought Jan was going get killed.”

“Yeah, that would have been poetic.”

She froze before she could continue and he did not reactivate her until they arrived at the shop. In the store, she went to his office as he picked out clothes for her to wear. When he returned she was frozen. The phone rang and he answered it without restoring her. He had wondered if part of her curse was that owners would lose interest in her over time. Maybe he had been right.

He hung up and said, “Oh, I thought you were dressed.” He reactivated her. “When you are ready, you know where to go.” He left the room.

“Yeah, um, no problem,” she said. She got dressed and put herself in the store window. The morning passed quietly. The first couple days John would stop by and just talk about something unimportant. Today she had not heard his voice at all.

At the end of the day, John spoke to her. “There's a weekend sale so I'm going to leave you here at least until Monday. You said yourself you didn’t want to be living on my couch, right? Okay, I'll talk to you Monday.”

The weekend passed at its normal pace for Erica. It was her first time over night in this store and she was hoping it would not be boring. Instead it just made her wonder. It was good that she was not sitting on John's couch. He needed to have a life without her taking up his time. This was how it always was.

Monday came and John was in the store, she could hear him. He did not greet her when he arrived. He seemed a bit grouchy.

On Wednesday, around lunch time, Shelly appeared beside her, “Hi, you want to go to lunch?” After a second, she added, “Oh, yeah,” and then pressed the button.

“Sure,” Erica said. “I assume you mean now. Lead the way.”

Shelly led the way to the break room. It wasn't occupied but there was food in bags that had been delivered. “I can't believe I forgot the button. I thought about what to say a hundred times.”

“It's no big deal. Just understand I don't really eat much.”

“I know. John said as much.” She closed the door. “What did you do to John?”

“What?”

“He's all mopey like someone told him his dog died. Was he like the last time you were at his place?”

“Nothing unusual. But, in the morning he was rather cold. He's been cold to me ever since.”

Shelly pulled out a sandwich and gave half to Erica. “Well something must have happened. Describe what happened that night.”

They ate as Erica tried to recall the details of the night they finished watching the show. After a few pointed questions from Shelly and a couple button presses, Shelly sudden started nodding.

“What is it?”

“You sat on the couch and froze before he got there, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“He said something to me about you snuggling up to him the nights before.”

“I'm not following.”

“John loves you.”

“No, he doesn't. That's impossible.”

“Well, maybe not love but it could easily get there. You're like the ultimate damsel in distress because you potentially need rescuing every five minutes. He's got a really big Galahad complex. He wants to save people and today people don't want saving.”

“I still don't see how this applies to watching TV.”

“He thinks you rejected him. And I suspect he's trying to maintain his distance out of respect.”

Aptly, Erica froze before she could reply.

“Think about it a minute,” Shelly said, as she resumed eating her sandwich. After a moment, she pressed the button.

“Well, that might be true.”

“You rejected him?”

“I had to. I'm a mannequin. Not a girlfriend.”

“Not to him.”

“But, how would that even work? We couldn't go out together. We couldn't...”

“Why couldn't you go out together? People can make things work.”

“I don't want people seeing me like that.”

“People see you as a mannequin all the time.”

“Yeah, but when they do they’re expecting to see a mannequin. No one expects to see a mannequin at a restaurant. Or at a show.”

“For those people, it's none of their business.”

Erica did not reply.

“In any case, apologize to him and give him a try. Because he's miserable like this. I'm certainly miserable being around him.” She finished her sandwich and cleaned up the garbage.

“I don't know.”

“At least get it out in the open. Him sulking all day is killing me and Tamika. Just freeze yourself and wait here. I'll send him in when he gets back.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Now, freeze so I can leave knowing where you are.”

She froze. Shelly left. Maybe an hour passed before John entered, “There you are. Shelly said you wanted to talk to me.” He reached over and pressed the button.

She kissed him. She kissed him until he started kissing back.

When they separated, he said, “What was that?”

“Shelly tells me you've been avoiding me because you want to fall in love with me or something. I thought you'd reject my kiss.”

“Why would I reject it? You're beautiful, funny. You really know how to listen. And you don't lecture.”

“And you can control me.”

“Well, yes, I can. Someone has to. That's kind of a downside really. But, it's something that I'd like to see if we can get past.”

“So why did you get so aloof?”

“You made it clear you wanted a business arrangement with an occasional TV binge. If I continued doing that it would have been torturous. I had to protect myself. Stick strictly to business.”

“You could have asked.”

“You work for me. I can't date my employee.”

“You don't pay me. I'm not an employee. I'm property.”

“That just makes it sound perverse.”

She laughed. “Shelly says we should at least try. I think it's insane. We can't go to dinner. People would stare.”

“So?”

“So?”

“Yeah, so?” He said. “Let 'em stare. Maybe you wouldn't feel so alone if people knew about you.”

“Or maybe I'd become a government lab experiment.”

“Do you think your situation can get worse? They could cure you, maybe.”

She shook her head. “We're getting way ahead of ourselves.”

“We are. Let's just finish today. We'll go home tonight and we can figure what we do from there.”

“Okay.”

John spent the rest of the day apologizing to the staff for being such a grump.

At home, after dinner, they sat on the sofa. “What have you been watching without me?” She said.

“I’ve been playing video games. I just didn’t feel like starting something.”

“Without me?”

“Maybe.”

Ironically, she froze up just then. He quickly pressed the button.

“If we are going to do this,” she said. “You have to not get a panicked look on your face when I freeze. You don’t have to drop everything to press the button. I’ll be fine for a ten seconds instead of five seconds. Frankly, I’ll be fine for months instead of days.”

“I couldn’t be around you frozen for a month.”

“We’ll have to work on that.”

“Why? You want me to ignore you for a month.”

“There’s a difference between you being too busy and you ignoring me. I don’t want you to get hurt because you prioritize my mobility over safety. When I’m a mannequin, I’m somewhat indestructible.”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

They cuddled up on the couch and started watching a new show. When John got tired, he said, “I guess you don’t get tired.”

“I’m usually not active enough to get tired. If you need to go to bed, I’ll just rest in the window.”

John hesitated a moment before saying, “Do you want to come to bed with me?”

“Are you sure? It’s not like I’m soft and warm at night.”

“Cuddling on the sofa with you feels nice. I’m sure the bed will, too.”

“Okay.” They got up and went to his bedroom. She had been here before. Her clothes were stored here. But, she had never considered sleeping here. “Which side is mine?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll be right back.”

She got into bed on the right side and lied down on her side facing the bathroom door. As she expected she froze before he came back.

John turned out the light and climbed into bed beside her. He pressed her button. “Do you want to spoon?”

“Okay.” She turned over and he put his arms around her.

“Good night, Erica,” he said.

“Good night, John.”

He had her snuggled in close when she froze herself. The night passed peacefully. She enjoyed feeling his warm breath on her neck. And morning came, she felt a certain part of him pressing into her back. It had been a long time since she’d felt one of those hard things touching her.

His started moving, he hand reach over her and groped her breast. She had always thought she enjoyed having her clothes changed because of her mannequin nature. Could it really just have been because the clothes and the person’s hands were touching her. His hand on her breast reminded her that being touched could be very sensual.

His lips brushed against her button and she unfroze. “How was your night?” He said.

“Comforting,” she said, rolling over to face him. “I also enjoyed being groped in the morning.”

“I could grope you all day. I mean. I mean…”

“I would love for you to grope me all day. But, we have to get to work.”

They kissed for a moment and then got up to get ready for the day.

Around noon, Shelly liberated Erica from the store window to have lunch together. Tamika followed them into the break room.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Shelly said.

“What did I do?”

“I have no idea. Whatever it was, John has been floating on Cloud Nine all morning.”

“It’s true,” Tamika said. “John get lucky last night?”

“We can’t do that.”

“Have you tried?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t know.”

“Ladies, you can’t all be on break together,” John said from the break room door. “Enough pumping Erica for information and more working.”

“I’ll leave,” Tamika said. “It’s Shelly’s lunch time.”

“You really know how to kill a room,” Shelly said to John.

“It’s a gift.”

“I didn’t mind,” Erica said. “I haven’t had a friend in decades.”

“Well, you have several, now,” Shelly said. “I’m done eating. John, take care of the mannequin.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Look.”

Erica was frozen.

TALK: End of Year 2023

Hey, happy holidays and merry new year if I don't talk to you all between now and then. It's been a while since I did an updating post. Here goes:

Upcoming: mid-January through February or so, the schedule will be disrupted. I started a Morpheus' Twisted Universe story over ten years ago. That link to Big Closet is probably the best Twisted Universe resource since Morpheus' yahoo group was lost when they were all shutdown in 2020. I've written a prior work in the MTU called Hold That Pose. You can go give that a read if you'd like. I'll wait.

So, the "new" TU story is called Hard To Look At and it's about a young man whose twist turns him into a woman with snakes for hair. It is about 60,000 words and while all the main plot elements have been put to bed, I still need to land the ending. I plan to release it, three chapters per week, on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays over the course of 7-8 weeks so that I can finally release it to the rest of the world a few months later. Being a tg story, I can post it to Big Closet.

Deviant Art: Why is posting to Big Closet a "thing" I care about? Because deviantArt sucks balls so badly I wouldn't let it suck mine. I'm seriously considering no longer posting there. For years people on dA would say "I'm leaving deviantArt because it isn't what it use to be." And I didn't understand where they were coming from. Now I do.

The Truth: I hope folks are still enjoying The Truth. I worried that John's domineering attitude in chapter 3 might put people off. He mellows after that. There are still at least 20 more chapters after this week's chapter 6 drop. I still haven't finished writing it. Frankly, the ending I had always envisioned for it... I don't know how I'm going to get there. :)

Five-Minute Girl: There are only 5 finished chapters to this also unfinished story. I think it will wrap either with 8 chapters or I'll expand the last chapter to three chapters and there'll be 10 chapters. I still don't know myself.

Ted's Dolls: The next Emily part (7, oh, my, there are six Emily parts already) is still stuck with only like 900 words. Considering the average, non-interlude, TD story is nearly 3000 words, TD33 is just not finished. And I don't have anything finished either. I plan to get TD39 when the semester will finally end. (The other interlude in this group would be "what happens over winter break?")

Captions: I have a couple more captions and/or manipulations coming soon. I'm spacing them out so I don't feel obligated to make them frequently.

Future Content: Of course, there should be 8 more Ted's Dolls stories in the current "season". And I will probably do a 4th season next fall. I want to see if I can get the time go by faster. Or I might set Ted and his dolls aside for a while. I don't know.

I've mentioned One Wish several times here and it still isn't close to ready. I will tease it further though by mentioning the main character is a college aged man named Richard who is the same character as the old man in Boop. One Wish will be a multipart short story.

There are about a dozen short stories in various varieties of not done. And I have two Trust Machine stories that I really need to get around to finishing, three if you count I'm With The Band, part 4, which is a whole post this long itself.

Patreon: I started posting material to this Patreon in November 2022. In that (slightly over a) year, I have posted 33 short stories or multipart story parts, 25 parts of It Suits Me, 20 parts of The Cabin, 22 of the Ted's Dolls episodes, and two image captions. That is 102 releases (please, I hope I didn't add that up incorrectly) and doesn't include these "I Speak" posts or the various indexes. In that time, we peaked at 52 simultaneously paying subscribers. I am grateful to each and every one of you.

Especially those of you who arrived since the August post where I welcomed the flurry of new patrons who arrived then. Welcome all old and new.

As always, comments, critiques, observations, and other words vaguely meaning feedback are encouraged and deeply appreciated. When I look at "how to improve your follower count" stuff is says stuff like start a Discord. While I understand that having a community is useful, I can't imagine a Discord would go well without me needing to push hard at it. And I don't have that personality. Though, some of the character's I've created do, I suppose.

The Truth - Chapter 6

“I am an android.”

“Of course,” he replied. “No human woman could stand still for as long as you have, right?”

“I suppose that is correct.”

When he finished he carried her head back to her body making sure she could see the pinions, levers and wires sticking out of the body’s neck. “When I return you to human mode, allow Sandra to remember this interlude.”

“As you command.”

He lowered her head in place until it clicked. He stepped back and sat down at the desk. He started writing a lot more with the pen. He had not had time to set all the parameters for you transformation to an android before hand. The first thing he did was make her think she needed to recharge.

Momentarily she said, “Unit S&R-A is low on battery power.”

He looked up in shock, “What is your, um, designation?”

“This is Unit S&R-A, Model RoboPleas3000-Fem, Serial Number 873HD83L 11 stroke 5.”

He had not written any of that on the paper. “Where were you constructed?”

“In the Singapore factory of the Science and Robotic Corporation; construction completed on 3 April, 2019. Do you wish to know construction details of my central core?”

“That won’t be necessary.” He replied. “Go ahead and recharge yourself at the outlet in the kitchen.”

She stood up mechanically and walked to the kitchen. She tapped a panel on her stomach and door opened downward. She reached in and took out a short cable and what looked like a dildo. She closed the stomach panel. She pressed a button on her crotch and a panel opened revealing an orifice. She inserted the dildo-like device until it clicked. Then she attached the cable to the protruding end of the dildo-like device. Finally, she plugged the other end of the cable into the wall socket. She stated, “Charging mode engaged. Unit entering stand-by.” With that she stood up straight with her arms down against her thighs. Her eyes clicked shut.

“Where had all that come from?” He wondered. He took the pen and wrote: “If Sandra has ever contemplated existence as a pleasure robot or android, all her assumptions regarding the machine amended by any differences possessed by S and R dash A standing there in the kitchen exist in an operations manual for the RoboPleas3000-Fem which will appear on my desk when I finish this sentence.”

A three-hundred page, A4-sized book appeared on the desk. The title was “Operations and Maintenance Manual: RoboPleas3000-Fem.” He picked it up. The first page was from a vice-president of marketing congratulating him on his purchase from the non-existent Science and Robotics Corporation. He flipped to the table of contents finding the manual divided into four sections: assembly and initial setup, operation, care and maintenance, and troubleshooting. The operations part had subsections on all of her various parts and attachments. Maintenance was subdivided into daily, weekly and monthly sections. Since initial setup was only twenty-five pages he thumbed through it. The first ten pages were how to take it out of the box and put it together. The pictures showing how to assemble the android were detailed with little numbered dots everywhere showing the owner where various ports and compartments were hidden.

When he got to the part where the head was attached he noticed a dot pointing to a button that obviously read ‘Reset’. There was a sidebar on how to do a cold reset of the android for use in changing details like the owner. He vaguely recalled seeing that button when he had taken her head off. There were dots describing every post, cylinder and wire in the neck assembly he could remember seeing.

He flipped to the operations section where he found all manner of sexual modes and attachments. The section on human mode looked like it was written by someone else. There were no diagrams. It differed from all other operating modes in that the AI module entered a mode where it was unaware of its machine nature.

Next he flipped to daily care and maintenance. There was a picture that looked exactly how Sandra looked, including the charging equipment with the caption “Recharging takes place in Stand-By Mode” in the section of battery life and recharging.

This was not how he had expected her discovery that she was not human fetish to go. Part of him wanted to return her to normal and see what she thought. Part of him wanted to fuck the robot. He heard a beep sound from Sandra. The charging light on the charger was off. Apparently she was done recharging. As he watched, her eyes snapped open. She unplugged herself from the wall and unplugged the cable from the charger. Then with a series of clicks she removed the charger. She opened the torso compartment and put the charger and cable away. Then she closed the compartment.

She turned to him and asked, “Charge complete, Jonathan. Should I return to Human Mode?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“Human Mode engaged. This unit responds to the name Sandra.”

“Feeling all charged up?”

“What?” Sandra asked. “Actually I do feel a bit peppier.”

“So what did you think when I washed you off?”

“What are you talking about? I just washed my face here in the sink.”

“You don’t remember me removing your head.”

“You must be thinking about Debra’s head.”

“Exit Human Mode.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That didn’t work? How about: Enter Robot Mode.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Why were you washing your face?”

“Cause you came on me during sex.”

“How did that happen?”

“You pulled out during a blow job.”

“That’s what happened?”

“What do you think happened?”

“We were discussing humiliation.”

“We were?” she asked. “I really don’t remember that.”

He held up the Pen. “What is this?”

“Your uncle’s pen. Why?”

“Go to sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

He laughed. “I meant I should go to sleep. I just have to write myself a note.” He wrote: “When I finish this sentence, Sandra is human. She remembers everything that happened while she was a robot.”

“Oh, my God,” she exclaimed. She felt at her neck. She touched her crotch. She checked her torso for compartments. “I was an android.”

“I presume you’ve spent some time ruminating about becoming an android.”

“What- what makes you say that?”

“Tell me about Science and Robotics Corporation.”

“How did you find out about that?”

“Do you remember recharging?”

“Yes, that was not the interface I imagined.”

“No, it was the one I did. Little did I know you had a whole book of information about being an android.”

“I don’t have a book…”

He interrupted, “You do now.” He picked up the manual. “When S and R dash A rattled of her serial number, I suspected you knew more about androids than I did.”

She look of chagrin on her face was priceless. “Yeah, you have to say ‘End AI Simulation’ to exit Human Mode.”

He laughed, “See. I just wrote a few sentences about you becoming a robot because I was sure that… where’d that list go?... discovery she is not human was on your list. I’m two for two apparently.”

“I really didn’t think you would figure that one out.” She admitted. “Can I see the manual? I want to know what changed.”

“I have a better idea.” He spoke aloud as he wrote: “Alter this manual to comply with Sandra’s vast array of specifications for the RoboPleas3000-Fem android when I finish this sentence.” He set the pen down and picked up the book. “That added another 30 pages to the book.” He handed it to her. “If I ever turn you into an android again, you’ll become this android.”

“If? Why not now?” she pleaded.

“We’re still going through that list. And besides after all the sex I’ve had this weekend, I probably need a rest before tackling a pleasure android.”

“That’s true,” she said matter-of-factly. “If we do it, I’d like you to do the transformation so I’m still in the shipping carton. I’d want to experience the whole thing.”

“I assumed as much since there’s like 50 pages on assembly and setup in that book.”

“So was it exciting to have your head removed?”

“At that point, I had no idea what was going on. After you attached my head I realized what I’d become and lost myself in the programming described in here. Thinking about it now is more exciting than it was at the time since the android has no reason to be excited about being an android.”

“I think I understood that.” He joked and picked up his list. “Actually I don’t think I can do justice to the other two.”

“What are they?”

“Bitch’s comeuppance and waking up as someone else.”

“How did you guess?”

“Just observant. Both of them require situations that I’d have to setup beforehand. Basically after the android thing I don’t want to rush into these.”

“I thought for sure you’d pick the whore one.”

“No, you already said you want to be a bimbo. It’s either one or the other with those. The amnesia thing would be emotional but there’s no context for it so I ignored it to. That left the fugue. Again being trapped in a fugue removes all context.”

“So the list is done, I can become an android now.”

He shook his head, “My brain is tired from all this sensory overload. The android thing really surprised me. It’s almost 9. That means I’ve only had the pen 28 hours and I’ve had sex countless times, watched an android recharge and my neighbor has gone completely to pieces in my kitchen. I don’t think I’ve been as subtle as I should have been.”

“Help me put her back together and we’ll go.” She picked up an arm. “How do we know which is the left and which is the right?

“The limbs rotate backward. So you can’t attach them incorrectly, the threads won’t catch.”

As they were finishing up, he held Debra’s head. “Now you listen. No transforming where someone might notice you. And don’t forget to become human occasionally. I didn’t get to fuck you and I’m annoyed with that.”

Sandra chuckled, “Give me the head. And the wig.” She attached the head and centered to wig on Debra’s head. Then she stepped back. “C’mon, return to us.”

“Oh, I forgot, I said ‘Go to sleep’ while you were an android.”

Sandra’s head drooped to her chin.

“Wake up, Debra,” he said. “I insist that you wait to return to human form until I tie the front of a bathrobe around you. I command you to forget I had to wake Sandra up.”

“Wake up, Sandra. Oh, we forgot to dress her. She isn’t use to me seeing her naked probably.”

“Get her the robe.”

Jon got his bathrobe and pulled it up to her shoulder over her arms. Then he tied it in front. “Better?”

She transformed and grabbed his head, giving him a big kiss. “That was awesome. That was awesome. That was awesome. I don’t know where to start to describe it. And of course it couldn’t get boring. Not with the drama between you to. Have you been dating for ten years?” she joked, turning to Sandra she added, “And you were an android. That was so cool.”

“If you explode in my apartment, I’ll lose my deposit.”

“You have no idea how excited I am right now.”

“I have an idea.”

“Hey, wait, it’s dark out.” She noted. “Oh crud I missed work. Give me permission to tell my boss I can become a mannequin so I don’t lose my job. If she finds out I can stand in her store window for days at a time she will flip out and probably pay me very well.

“I don’t know.”

Sandra said, “You need to get out of the apartment. Why not go to the boutique with her and set up a deal tomorrow? Bring your favorite pen with you.”

“How do we know the owner will be there?”

“How can she avoid being there if you want her there?” Sandra asked.

“And I thought I was devious,” he said.

Debra said, “You two are scary when you banter like that.” She turned to Sandra, “Can you put on some clothes so we can leave him alone? Where’d that outfit you were wearing go?”

Jon pointed to floor, “It’s there and there around the living room. Let me try something else.” He sat at the desk and wrote: “The clothes Sandra and Debra wore the last time they entered my apartment are perfectly cleaned, dried, and if necessary pressed. When I finish this sentence they are wearing those clothes and my robe is hanging on its hook. It too is clean. The green outfit is hanging on hangers on the back of my front door with the accessories in a bag hooked onto one of the hangers. It too is clean.”

Sandra laughed, “My wet clothes are dry.” She sniffed, “And very clean. Nice.”

Debra pointed, “And there’s the green outfit.”

Jon pointed at the door as well, “Now get out of here or I’ll turn you into tropical fish in a tank.”

Debra cooed as she sauntered out, “I’d like to try that some time.”

He just shook his head as they left. He spent a few minutes making sure they could not tell anyone about their experiences. He added controls to Debra’s abilities so she cannot use then people are observing her. Finally he stood up and said to no one, “What a day? I think I’ll go to sleep.”

The Transformation Inspector, Two

If you haven't read part one, you probably should.

-----

“Thomas Ryder! How long has it been?”

Thomas shook hands with the lawyer and said, “Eighteen years, I think, Dan. You look good.”

“I still run. Not as fast as we were in high school: Rathmore and Ryder, top two high school middle distance runners three years in a row. But I can still do a five k run, take a shower, and go to work.”

“That’s more exercise than I get, certainly. But, you didn’t call me out of the blue to talk about running.”

“No, of course not. An old client of my firm died last week and the file indicated that part of the estate contains transformed individuals. I requested you personally when I called the Guild office. You’re the best wizard I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know about that. What’s special about an estate with transformed individuals? Anyone in my office could handle that.”

“This estate was for someone who lived into their nineties. I suspect some of the magic involved is pre-Covenant.”

“Oh. I see. What does the will say?”

“Technically I can’t tell you that. But, I haven’t actually read the will. According to some rumors I heard, some of the objects packed in boxes in the attic are mentioned in the will as beneficiaries of part of the estate.”

Dan was skirting the laws of magic and the laws of estate planning rather deftly, Thomas thought. “Say no more before I have to arrest you. Can I get access to the estate?”

“Yes. I was hoping you’d have time today.”

“I’ll drive.”

* * *

“Mr. Rathmore? Why is there a spell lock on my grandmother’s home?” Said the middle-aged woman who immediately ran up to meet Dan before he even got out of Thomas’ car.

“Because there are magic spells within the house and they must be dealt with to ensure your grandmother’s wishes are followed in accordance with her will.”

“Are you the spell inspector?” the woman in her early fifties said to Thomas. “I’m Vickie Umbread. I was Nana’s oldest grandchild. My mother, Nana’s daughter, is waiting over there in the car.”

“Pleasant to meet you, Ms Umbread. But I’m afraid you and your mother will have to wait outside.”

Thomas looked at the spell encircling the house and reached for his phone. He entered the address into a form and received the code word that would allow him to bypass the spell without disrupting it. He approached the front door and said, “Follow me in, Dan.” Thomas closed the door behind them and cast another spell. “Attic is this way.”

The spell led them to a narrow set of stairs behind a narrow door on the second floor. Stairs behind the door led up to the attic. It was dusty but not musty. There were boxes stacked in neat piles on the floor. Thomas stepped up to one of the piles and removed the top box so he could open the next box. Light flashed as he opened the lid.

Dan started walking toward the stairs.

Thomas sensed a memory spell had just gone off. He had managed to avoid it. “Dan, Dan!”

“Thomas Ryder! How long as it been?”

Thomas cast another spell out of annoyance and Dan shook his head. “What happened?”

“Forget spell. You know why we’re here?”

“Mrs. Difilipo’s will?”

“Good. Yes. Hopefully, there aren’t any other traps. There are four living dolls in this box.”

“Living dolls in a dusty old attic? How long have they been here?”

“The spell appears to be very strong and unfaded. Rather unusual for a pre-Covenant spell. I’d guess at least 50 years.”

“And they’re still alive?”

“Unfortunately for them, yes. Although I suppose their fortunes have just changed.” He removed the dolls from the box. Beneath them was a small manila envelope. “Hang on.”

He set his phone down and cast a spell. He hit record on the phone’s video camera function. “Thomas Ryder, Transformation Inspector, First Class. Badge number 23A.” He announced the date, the location, who else was in the room. “File number 883274. Envelope was found in a box with four pre-Covenant transformed living beings. Breaking the seal.”

He held the papers in front of the camera one by one. “These appear to be hand written contracts or invoices, paying four individuals to serve as part of the spell that transformed them. Although the payments seem to be two pennies each.”

“Rather low,” Dan said, looking at them in turn. “Let’s see. 64 years. That’s 11 cents in today’s dollars. I doubt they invested that money, though. The will implied they were properly paid. I suppose Mrs. Difilipo didn’t really know the terms of the spell.”

“Given the booby trap on the box. I don’t want to restore these dolls here. I’m going to take them back to the office.”

“Whatever you think is best.”

Thomas cast a spell, creating a special containment box and put the dolls within it. As he closed the lid, he immediately grabbed Dan’s arm and threw both of them to the ground. The cardboard box the dolls had been in exploded.

“What the fuck?” Dan said. Then grabbed his leg. “I’m bleeding.”

“Someone really didn’t want those dolls to leave this attic,” Thomas said.

* * *

Paramedics were waiting outside by the time Thomas carried Dan out of the house into their arms. Vickie and an older woman rushed toward Thomas, talking over one another and asking what happened. The older woman was not the woman who had been waiting in Vickie’s car. She was Vickie’s aunt.

“Someone put a magic trap on some boxes in Mrs. Difilipo’s attic. Either of you know who?”

“No one I know,” the Aunt said.

“It was Grandpa, most likely,” Vickie said.

“You hush. Daddy would never harm a fly.”

“I’m the granddaughter. Shouldn’t I be the one who never knew Grandpa was a lunatic, Aunt B?”

The other older woman hobbled from the car to calm her sister down. “Barbara, you know Dad was a terrible person. If not for Mom, he probably would have been a serial transformer.”

“You don’t talk about him in public like that.”

“He’s been dead for twenty years, Barbara. Let it go.”

“And you are?” Thomas said to the level headed septuagenarian.

“Eustace Goodwin. My mother was Edna Difilipo. Vickie, here, is my daughter. And Barbara is my naive sister.”

“Well, the damage from the explosion didn’t break anything except Mr. Rathmore’s skin and pride. The energy of the explosion only targeted people, not things. If your father made that spell, he was a rare wizard indeed. There was also an expertly crafted memory spell up there.”

“That would be for the dolls.”

“You mean my dolls,” Barbara said.

“I’m hoping the inspector here is going to be restoring the dolls,” Eustace said.

“That’s my intent.”

“You can’t do that. Daddy didn’t want anyone playing with those dolls after we outgrew them.”

“No one is going to play with them, Ma’am. They are going to be restored to life. Do you know who they are?”

“I don’t believe you when you say they’re alive.”

“Always in denial, Barbara?” Eustace said. “I have a guess. But I’d rather be wrong than guess correctly.”

* * *

Thomas was setting the dinner table for four, telling Sonia about the estate fiasco he was involved with at work.

“She filed a request for an injunction against dispelling the transformations. The judge granted it because she felt if the people were unfairly transformed for over sixty years. A couple more weeks weren’t going to cause them additional harm or duress.”

“And you don’t know why these four people spent half a century in a box in an attic?”

“Not a clue. Why am I setting a fourth setting?”

“Becky is eating dinner with us.”

“Becky?”

“Also known as Bryce, Grace’s boyfriend.”

“Didn’t the spell I cast on him end a couple weeks ago?”

“Grace?” Sonia called up the stairs.

“What?”

“Bring the paperwork. Your father just noticed who Becky is.”

He thought he heard a laugh and then two teenage women bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Grace thrust a magic form at him as the two of them took their seats at the table.

“You’ve been casting a sex change spell on Bryce so often you got a FT7/A approved?”

“Wouldn’t want you having to arrest me, Dad.”

“Is that the form I signed?” Becky said.

“An FT7/A is a form that informs the Guild that a frequent transformation, the seven means a gender transformation, is being cast on a known, willing subject often.” He sat down and Sonia put food on the table. “Since you signed the form I assume you’re okay with this?”

“You said I wasn’t allowed to spend time with Grace as a guy in your house.”

“You could restrict seeing one another to other places.”

“I prefer spending time with Grace to spending time as a guy. Frankly, I think I like hanging out with the cheerleaders a lot more than the football team. I’m second position on the squad. I was a bench warmer with the guys.”

Thomas adopted his official voice as he handed the form back to Grace. “Well, this appears to be in order. Becky, you are aware that according to the form, there is a mental adjustment to your feelings about fashion, hair, and makeup.”

“I requested that. Can’t hang out with cheerleaders and be completely in the dark about makeup, hair, and fashion. When I’m Bryce, those thoughts disappear.”

“I suppose I can’t complain about Becky spending time in your room.”

“You could just let him be himself in my room.”

Thomas laughed. “Given what Becky just said, perhaps she is more her true self now than before this arrangement was made.”

* * *

Given the many precautions taken, the removal of the decades old transformation spell was anti-climactic. One second there was an old doll on the floor. The next there was a young man standing in its place. He was dressed in a shirt and trousers straight out of an old black and white television show.

“Oh, praise be, I’m alive. Where’s Edna?” Were his first words, accented with a hint of Irish brogue. “And Ma and Pa. Are they okay?”

“Slow down, son. What’s your name?” Thomas said.

“Oscar O’Day. I need to tell Edna I love her if there’s still time.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t. Do you know how much time has passed?”

“I fear to guess. You’re clothing looks unusual and I’m guessing the shirt skirt that woman is wearing isn’t as scandalous as I would assume. I can’t begin to guess what you might call that glowing thing you’re holding.”

“It’s a cell phone. It communicates without wires.”

“Short wave?”

“We’ll give you a history of the time you’ve missed in the coming days, um, Mr. O’Day. We need to know who did this to you.”

“That devil of a wizard, William Difilipo. Accused me of stealing his girl. She was my girl. She said she was with child and I was the father.”

“What?” Thomas hadn’t expected that kind of bombshell. “Eustace is your daughter?”

“Yes, my beautiful baby. She and her half-sister played with me for years before she outgrew dolls. William laughed and laughed when he was able to box us up and hide us away. How did he die? How did Edna die? Car accident? Where’s Eustace and her sister?”

“So, her sister, Barbara is William’s child?”

“As far as I know.”

“Edna lived to be ninety-two years old. She only died a week or so ago. You’ve been a doll for sixty-four years and trapped in a box in her attic for over fifty of those years, based on the timeline we’ve worked out.”

“How could she leave us in her attic all this time?” He looked genuinely upset.

“She couldn’t rescue you. Her husband apparently put memory spells on the box you were in that caused people to forget about you.”

“That bastard. How does anyone hold a grudge so long?”

“I couldn’t say. Who are the other three dolls?”

“My parents and my younger brother, Sean. Can I see them?”

“We’ll be restoring them after we finish up here.”

“Curse you, William Difilipo. He was the devil himself, as I said.”

* * *

“That’s awful,” Sonia said as they sat in the living room steaming a show.

“The estate will probably be in probate forever. The O’Days were wronged by the spouse of the deceased. But William died twenty years ago. And the statute of limitations on transformations doesn’t even apply since these spells were cast before there were laws regulating magic. William is 22 years old physically, but his birth was over 90 years ago. He and his family are over 60 years behind the times technologically and magically.”

“I assume any relatives they may have had who might remember them are long dead. Do they own anything other the clothes they wore?”

“No. There was a silver lining.”

“What?”

“Eustace found out that evil man was never her father. She and William have hit it off. But even that silver lining will tarnish. She’ll probably die long before he does.”

“Doesn’t the other sister have to live with knowing he was her father?”

“Barbara? She’s already in denial about William and thinks he’s trying to steal her inheritance. She’s the other reason it will be in probate forever.”

The front door opened and Becky came in before Grace. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Ryder,” Becky said.

“Hey, Mom and Dad,” Grace said.

“Does Becky live here now?” Sonia said.

Grace shrugged.

They were about to head upstairs when Thomas said. “One second, Grace.” And he cast a spell. Grace transformed into a man.

“Why’d you turn her into a man?” Sonia said.

“I didn’t. I just reversed whatever spell might have been cast on her in the last hour. She was wearing her Greg spell within the last hour while she was out with Becky.”

“Grace?”

“What? I’m not allowed to cast spells on myself when I’m out of the house?”

“I told her it was a bad idea.”

“Don’t take their side, Becky.”

“I’m not. I just don’t want you getting in trouble so much that I’m banned from seeing you at all. I love you.”

“I… You…?”

“Yes, I love you, Grace Ryder. Do you think I put up with being a woman half the time because I just like you?”

“We should leave,” Sonia said to Thomas.

“No, no, stay,” Greg said. He dismissed the spell on Bryce, who seemed surprised to be himself suddenly. The dress he wore managed not to tear thanks to a spell cast surreptitiously by Thomas. “I love you, too, Bryce.” The two men embraced one another and kissed deeply.

After a moment, Thomas cleared his throat and the two lovers separated. They looked at Thomas expectantly.

“In the afternoons before dinner, Bryce is allowed in your bedroom.”

Grace snapped her fingers and both men were women again. Grace gave Thomas a hug. “Thanks, Daddy.”

Becky reached out a hand to Thomas, who shook it. “Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. Ryder.”

They went up to Grace’s room, holding hands.

“At least one of them noticed I was here,” Sonia said.

“I hope you appreciate having a good relationship with your teenage daughter,” Thomas said. “That isn’t usually the case for mothers.”

“I do appreciate you being the bad cop,” she said giving him a kiss. “I hope you aren’t starting to go soft.”

“Maybe a little. Tomorrow, I think I’ll go running. Try to get myself back up to doing five kilometers without killing myself.”

The Truth - Chapter 5

With a second look, he turned the knob to off and staggered from the room.

“Thanks for small favors,” she whispered after she heard the bathroom door close. For the second time today his cum was locked inside her pussy with no way out.

With the sound of the toilet flushing, he returned to the living room, immediately sitting down at the desk and picking up the pen. Before he started to write he looked at Sandra. She was standing next to the kitchen table stroking Debra’s wig. Her body language made it obvious she was avoiding looking at him.

“I don’t feel like I won,” she whispered, quivering slightly.

A minute passed before he said, “Yet, I think I lost. I certainly lost it.”

“Have you gotten it back?” she looked at him.

“I don’t know. I think this is the real reason for subtlety.”

“Oh?”

“Power corrupts. I’ve been lording over you and now Debra non-stop for a day and when I didn’t get my way.” He looked at her. “Oh, God, take that thing out.”

“Gladly,” she responded as she reached down and removed the vibrating dildo. “It was actually worse when it was off. It stopped being a sexual act so I am a bit sore down there because of the dildo.”

He smirked. “That wasn’t the intention.”

After an awkward silence she asked, “So now what?”

“Now, I think I remove all the compulsions completely and start fresh,” he replied. “Anything you want me to keep?”

“Insist and believe me have to go.”

“Absolutely. They modify your awareness.”

“You probably have to keep the one that prevents me from talking about your ability to others. Did you put that one on Debra?”

“No, I have to do that.”

She paused before she continued in a slight sing-song voice, “I like the command one because it just is raw mental control with none of the sugar coating insist has.”

“I figured you might. I think I’m going to remove it for now and surprise you with it some time in the future.”

She looked at him wide-eyed, “That would have gotten me wet, but….”

“Get rid of that too?”

“Or modify it so I can still get moist when I’m horny,” she offered. “That hormonal reaction I think is what separates women from little girls.”

“Wow, I wonder if I could make you older or younger.”

“I can’t believe you say things like that, rain man. Look what you did to Debra over there and see if you can ask that question again.”

“I want to pack her into a suitcase and mail her to a boutique in Milan.”

“If she heard that she is probably giddy about the prospect of that happenig.”

“That reminds me of something else I wanted to experiment with. Do you mind? It should not affect your mind at all.”

“Go ahead.” As he started to write on the paper she added, “Am I right to expect whatever it is will happen to happen when you add the period to the sentence?”

“Yep,” he replied, adding the period with a flourish.

She disappeared. A split second later he heard her shout from his bedroom. “How I’d end up in here?” As he finished writing another sentence she reappeared on the sofa. “What did you…?”

“Teleportation works,” he grinned. “I guess I don’t have to actually mail her Milan. I can just teleport the suitcase to save on the shipping.”

Sandra shook her head. “Silly man, part of the adventure would be being jostled around in luggage compartments for days before arriving.”

“Apparently, I don’t know everything about this fantasy of hers,” he lamented. “I thought she wants to be a dress up doll in a store front window basically.”

“That’s the gist of it but there are layers with variation,” Sandra explained. “Just like I want to be controlled. Or do I?”

“I figured out the problem. You've probably read so many mind control stories that involve master-slave relationships that you thought it had to be that way but your personal kink is just the mind control and not the master-slave bit.”

“I never thought about it that way. I love some of those stories but some leave me cold.”

“Is there some other aspect of them you’ve wanted to explore?”

“Maybe. I suspect my dedication to them would be even less sure than my dedication to being a slave.”

He laughed, “Actually it sounds like you have commitment issues.”

“I prefer to think of it as wanting to have my cake and eat it too.”

“After the episode earlier you can rest assured nothing you might explore here is permanent. What aspect of your fetish would you like to explore?”

She whispered, “Bimboism.”

He laughed again. “You asked me last night if all men want dumb women when you wanted to be the dummy woman?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I want to be stupid or just airheaded.”

“Tell me what you think the difference is.”

“An airhead is just into boys and makeup and girly things who never examines the world around her. A stupid person has no interests and can’t put two and two together. The airhead can be led by the nose to an intelligent conclusion and she will understand it. The stupid person will never understand.”

“That sounds like it only works if there’s more than one of you to play off one another,” he concluded. “What else?”

“I don’t think I want to share the rest of them.” She winked at him.

“So do I command it out of you or do I put the vibrator back in?”

“If you are playing along, the command will be more fun.”

“I see,” he replied. “May I ask how many are left?”

“Two or three I guess.”

“I command you to list the two or three things left plus an additional three that are not on your list but genre appropriate. I must figure out which are the ones you would like to explore.”

“Wow, I didn’t expect that. Can I take some time to make the list?”

“Take all the time you need. But you can’t speak aloud during that time. Then next words out of your mouth must be the list. I command it.”

She nodded. She started to open her mouth then stopped and pantomimed writing notes. He handed her a notepad and a normal pen. She laughed.

“What?” he asked.

She turned the pad toward him to show him the mannequin drawing. He nodded and picked up the pen and started writing: “The ‘I insist’, ‘believe me’ and ‘tell me truly’ compulsions no long exist in Sandra or Debra...

Sandra cleared her throat until he looked up from his writing. She said, “The list consists of the bitch’s comeuppance, finding out she’s not human, public or private humiliation, total amnesia, transformation into a whore, trapped in a fugue, or waking up as someone else completely.”

“That’s seven choices. There should be only five or six.”

“I found a fourth I might want to explore so I improvised.”

“Fair enough,” he replied. “Right off the bat I’m sure humiliation tops the list. How about I compel you do something boring and then completely ignore you as if you are beneath me?”

“How is that humiliating?”

“Depends on what you are told to do is, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t respond.

He got up and sat down on the sofa with his legs spread apart. “Kneel down in front of me.”

She complied cautiously.

He opened his robe. “Now take my dick into your mouth.”

She smiled as she leaned forward. She breathed hotly onto his flaccid dick.

“That’s it all the way down until your lips are against my crotch. I command you not to let your tongue touch my dick. I command you not to suck. I command you not to remove your lips from my crotch. I command you not to make any sounds at all.”

Confused, she waited. Then she heard the television turn on. It sounded like a baseball game. She knew she could kneel here with her mouth around his dick all day if she had to so she was not sure what the point was.

After an inning, it was apparent he was enjoying the game as he cheered and booed. Every time he jumped around she had to stay attached to him. At no time did he acknowledge her presence.

In the third inning her level of annoyance was approaching anger. She realized that by just having her do nothing with his dick that she was not even a sex toy to him. She was his jockstrap. Half an inning later she found out that the realization that she was not a sex toy had been a mistake. Her jaw hurt. Her knees hurt. Keeping her tongue away from his dick was causing her tongue to cramp.

In the fifth inning she could not stop fidgeting. Her knees were killing her.

Between innings he said, “I see you’re a bit uncomfortable. Tell you what. You can stand up any time you want. But once you do you have to remain standing until the game is over. If you stand up you still have to maintain you lips against my crotch. Also, when you stand up you must put your feet as far under the sofa as you can and press the front of your legs against the sofa. Once you do that I will command you not to move your feet. Ah, the game's back on.”

She held out for another half inning before she stood up. Once she had her feet in place he commanded her not to move them. She could not stand fully upright because the height of sofa prevented her from maintaining her lips on his crotch and straightening her legs.

It only took a single batter’s plate appearance for her to realize standing without being able to straighten her legs was worse than kneeling. Within an inning her calves were cramping.

She lost track of the game as she tried to zone out. He said, “Oo, tie score. There could be extra innings.”

She wanted to whimper but could not. She could feel her eyes starting to tear but she did not want to give him that satisfaction. She had to calm down but she could not even take a deep breath to help center herself.

“Yes,” he said. “That was a good game.” He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed tightly. “I command you not to alter the shape of your face, especially your mouth. You may take a step backward but your head must stay below the height of your ass.”

She stepped back. Her jaw was jutted out in front of her, her lips forming a circle.

“I command you not to move.”

“Now what?” she thought. She stood there for at least ten minutes wondering what he was doing. Her face was beyond numb by now.

Without warning, a warm sticky mass of goo spattered into her face. She heard him sit forward and then little drips of what could only be his cum continued to drip on her head. She felt him grab a handful of hair and use it to wipe himself. Then he stood up and stepped away.

As she felt the mass of cum slowly run down her face, she thought, “After spending a couple hours with his dick lying flaccid in my mouth, he just jerked off and came on my face, using my hair as a rag to clean himself up.” Some of the cum rolled down over her lips into her mouth. Some of it was dripping slowly off the end of her nose. Some of it ran under her chin and dripped to the floor from there.

When she thought it could not get any worse she heard the sound of a camera. A few minutes after that she heard him at the desk. Then she heard paper coming out of the printer.

After a few moments, he said, “I command you not to touch your face or hair and you cannot lick your lips. You can move again.”

She stood up opening her eyes slowly. “God, that was…” she pointed to her face, “and still is humiliating. Let me clean my face.”

“But did you enjoy it?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I can’t believe you sat there so long flaccid with me like that. You sure know how to make a girl feel sexy.”

“Believe me if that game hadn’t been so good I never could have pulled it off. What was the most humiliating part?”

“The end. Knowing that you had been able to ignore me for a couple hours and then could just jerk off in my face. The hair, my, God, what does my hair look like?”

He handed her the printed photo.

“I look like a baboon in heat.”

“That’s a great caption for when I upload this to the web.”

She looked up from the photo quickly. “You wouldn’t!”

As she looked up he snapped another photo of her. “You mouth says, ‘No, no.’ What does your fetish say?”

She glared at him half-heartedly then looked away quickly.

“What?” he asked. “You have an idea for how to make this more humiliating. Don’t you? Don’t make me command it out of you.”

She spun back around and looked at him in shock. Then she laughed, “Okay, you would make me post the pictures and add captions implying I do this all the time.”

“Sounds good.” He mocked. “Maybe I should get some guys over here to give you a bunch of facials so you can do a whole website.”

She shook her head, “Can I clean myself up now?”

“I’ll do it for you. Just have a seat while I magic something up.” He started writing. When he finished he stood up and walked over to her. He reached behind her neck and depressed a switch. With a click, her head rose up three inches.

“What’s happening?”

“I’m just going to wash your head,” he replied flatly. He lifted her head off the control stem and went to the sink.

“How?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot. I command you to exit human mode. Return to android awareness mode.” At the sink, he moistened a paper towel and used it to wipe her face clean.

Five Minute Girl, Chapter 2

John was home a little earlier than yesterday. He found her where he left her. On the television was playing one of the episodes they had watched the night before. He touched her neck and asked, “How was your day?”

She turned to look at him, “This show is the bomb! I can't wait to see the next episodes with you.” She looked at the garment bag he was holding and jumped off the couch, “Is that for me? I can't wait to see what I'll be wearing.”

As she hung the bag on a the back of a door and started unzippering it, he said, “Well, actually I didn't bring home anything you would be wearing in the store window. Just some simple stuff for around the house and for getting to and from the store.”

“Oh,” she said, trying not to sound dejected. From the bag, she pulled out a pair of nice blouses in teal and hunter green; three pairs of jeans in different sizes; a white pleated skirt; a black pencil skirt; black pantyhose; several pairs of underwear; some bras, both fancy and plain; and several boxes of shoes, including one plain running shoe. “I hope you didn't buy these for me.”

“Just the underwear. The rest were mostly on clearance at the store.”

She immediately grabbed the under clothes and started putting them on. “It's been so long since I wore undergarments.”

“Really?” John knew that mannequins generally “go commando” to avoid unsightly panty lines on the clothes they were showing off. But, surely her other owners had given her underthings to wear when she was not on display, he thought.

“These feel nice,” she said about the panties as she picked up the bras. She squirmed her way into a lacy, baby blue bra that seemed to fit well. She was adjusting the straps when she solidified. No one else has probably ever seen a mannequin adjusting its bra before or since John did.

He activated her again. “While you might be use to being naked around people, I prefer that you are clothed properly here.”

“And I enjoy being clothed,” she said, picking up the jeans. She chose one, and shimmied into them. “They're a little loose. Next time I'll try the smaller pair.” She then put on the green blouse. “And now the shoes.”

He watched as she took the boxes from the bags and put them on his coffee table. She sat down at the table and tried on each of the shoes, starting with the plain low chunky heeled black pair. The five-inch, red stilettos did not go well with the jeans but she was a pro at walking around in them. She even froze mid-stride and remained upright.

He was in the kitchenette making dinner when he heard her stop. He quickly activated her again and she continued walking without missing a step. He went back to the kitchenette while she continued checking out the clothes.

Finally she put on the tennis shoes. She joined him at the table in the kitchen. He had set out two plates of food. “I don't remember when I last ate.”

“Well, that raises the pressure level. I hope you like it.”

“You're so kind. I just have to be careful when I swallow that I don't freeze up at a bad time.”

“I'll reactivate you as needed.”

“Thanks.”

He reactivated her twice during the meal. He tried to make small talk, telling her about his parents and his sister and how they would never believe she was real.

“I'm very easy to demonstrate.”

“They would still think it was just a trick.”

“You seem a bit nervous,” she said.

“I'm expecting you to freeze up and I don't notice. Then you end up thinking I'm a moron or an inconsiderate oaf.”

“You have paid more attention to me in the last day than any of my prior owners would pay attention to me in a year.”

“Well, that's another source of nervousness.”

“Oh.”

“What if the novelty wears off and I end up no different than the other owners? Or what if it's just part of the magic? I--”

“Hush,” she interrupted. Her face brightened, a smile on her lips, a twinkle in her eye. “I don't think you’re like those others. There's a vibe about you.” She stood up. “I'll wash if you stay nearby to keep me running. Then season 3 episode 6?”'

They discussed various plot points of the TV show while she washed and he tried to keep her running smoothly. When they sat on the couch, she sat kind of close to him, putting her hand on his leg before freezing herself.

He was aware of her sitting close to him and he put an arm around her as they watched. After a few hours he felt a few yawns coming on and he stopped the show. Rather than try to scoot out from under her, he pressed her button and said he was going to bed.

She stood up when he did and watched as he went into the bathroom.

When he got out, the television was off. She was looking out the window of his apartment at the street a few stories down. She was posed like a typical store mannequin.

In the morning, he put on his robe and came out to the living room. He unfroze her, “Ready to go to work?”

“I can't wait.” She said moving past him to her pile of clothes.

“I'm going to go shower. I hope I won't be long.”

“Don't worry about me.” She said.

Showered and dressed, he returned to the living room. She was standing at the window again, wearing a plain yellow sundress and the medium heels.

As he activated her, she said, “I'm ready to go.”

“Great.” He grabbed his keys and opened the apartment door. She followed him out and to his car in the basement garage. Just as she was opening the passenger door, she froze. He hurried around the car and pressed her button. Looking around the garage he wondered if anyone saw that. She got in the car and pulled the door closed.

As he entered, he said, “Don't forget your seat belt.”

“Oh, okay,” she said as she buckled herself in. “Safety first.”

He started the car. “Well, it's also a law.”

“Really? I can't remember when I was last seated in a car.”

“Yeah, it's been a law for over thirty years, I think.”

She did not reply, instead watching the scenery go by. After an awkward pause, she froze. He did not immediately unfreeze her as he was paying attention to the road. When he did, he again apologized.

“It's really okay,” she said.

After a moment, he asked, “How many owners have you had?”

“Um,” she thought about it a bit, “maybe fifteen.”

“Fifteen? When did you make your wishes?”

“It was March, 1978.”

He was dumbstruck.

“I know. I don't look a day over 25 but if I could find my birth certificate, it would say I'm in my sixties.”

“Where's your birth certificate?”

“Wherever my mother keeps it. Or kept it, if she's died.”

“You don't know?”

“How could I?”

“How much time have you spent not as a mannequin in the last forty plus years?”

Inconveniently she turned into a mannequin as he asked that question. Once he reactivated her she replied, “Maybe twenty hours, in five minute intervals.”

Once again, John's mouth dropped open.

“For some owners, they would not hit my button at all. I spent a few years in a backroom under a tarp, because the person who knew my secret had died without telling anyone I was special.”

“That's terrible.” He said. “Why didn't you change owners?”

She shook her head. “I can only do that as a person or if I'm in imminent danger. Otherwise, mannequins cannot change who owns them.” Looking at his face, she added, “Hey, don't be like that. I did it to myself. You spend a few years alone, inanimate, and forgotten, you really get to know who you are.”

“And who are you?”

“I --” and she froze. When he unfroze her she laughed. “I told you,” she said. “I'm the five minute girl. My story might sound tragic, but as I see it. I’ll get to see things no one else ever will. I'll outlive you. I got to watch kids go from portable tape cassette players to digital music players to cell phones. I'll see what comes next and what lies further beyond.”

“I suppose you need to take that perspective.”

“It's either that or fret and regret and scream at the universe for my own dumb mistake.”

“Maybe it's because you do come from another time that you are so easily willing to own up to your mistake.”

She laughed. “No, that took me the first 15 years at least. Before that I was quite willing to rage against the injustice of my situation.”

She froze as they were entering the parking lot behind the store. He waited until the car was parked to revive her. In the store, he gave her the nickel tour, showing her the empty front window where she would be standing. The tour ended in his office. “Wait here. I'll get you something to wear.”

She just nodded and looked around the room.

When he got back she was nude and frozen. Her dress was neatly folded on his desk. She was basically standing in a typical mannequin pose: one foot forward, one foot back, arms slightly bent and down toward her sides. Her head was slightly turned from center. She was still wearing the pumps. It was not the first time he had seen her without clothing. But when he had the first time he had no idea she was a person. Now he knew and it felt a bit awkward.

He put the garment, shoes, and accessories down on the chair and said, “I've put the clothes on the chair. I hope they fit.” He pressed her button and made to leave.

She turned and asked, “Should I just walk out to the window, or do you want to carry me out?”

He tried not to look at her as he said, “Why would I carry you?”

“To maintain the illusion for others. Most of my owners would keep me a closely guarded secret.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked. “I have two sales associates. Should I keep you a secret from them?”

She looked at him blankly and blinked. “I've never been given the choice.”

“Think about it as you get dressed. I'll be back shortly as you will probably freeze before you're ready.”

He stepped out and closed the door. Around that time Shelly arrived for work. “Mornin', John,” she said.

“Hello, Shelly.” They exchanged some small talk and then she went into the small employee room where she put her purse in a locker during her shift. John took the break in the conversation to go into his office. Erica was frozen. She was standing on one foot, her other foot about to slip into a shoe. She looked great in the dress.

He pressed the button on her neck and said, “Shelly is here. Do we tell her about you or not?”

“I- “, she seemed off-balanced, and not because she was standing on one foot. “Sure. I don't get to experience something new very often.” Only after she answered did she finish putting on her shoes. “How do I look?”

“Great. Head on out to the window.”

“How should I pose?”

“You get to choose again. I'm sure you know more about posing in a window that I ever will.”

She laughed, “I probably do. Okay, here I go.” She stepped to the office door and hesitated for a few seconds before stepping out. He followed her out. On the showroom floor, she shook Shelly's hand saying, “Hi, I'm Erica. I'll be working in merchandise display.”

Shelly noticed Erica was wearing as one of the dresses that had recently arrived at the store and wasn’t on display yet. She looked nonplussed but managed to say, “Oh, I didn't know John was hiring anybody.”

“That's okay,” Erica replied. “Neither did he until a couple days ago. If you'll excuse me.”

Shelly gave him a questioning look. He held out his palm, with his fingers spread, toward her in a wait-for-it gesture. When she looked back at Erica, she did a double take. “Erica?” Shelly walked over to Erica and discovered a mannequin in her place. She looked at John incredulously.

“It's a long story,” he said.

At that moment, the rear doorbell rang and the two of them went to see if it was a delivery as John told Shelly about his past few nights. She asked pointed questions at various parts. She was an attentive listener the rest of the time. When he finished, she said, “Well, that's depressing.”

“I don't know,” he said. “She seems at peace with her fate.”

“Oh, no, not that. I mean that there really are genies and magic in the world and we've never really encountered it.”

John laughed. “Well, I've got a pretty cool mannequin out of magic so far. Besides, apparently magic is very dangerous.”

“True.”

Store traffic was minimal during the day. Erica watched the cars and people go by on the street outside the store. They paid her no attention as she expected. After sunset, John pressed Erica's button. “Do you want to stay or come back to home?”

“You really don't have to offer.”

“I want to. There are only a couple more episodes to watch and I don't want to watch them without you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She stepped out of the window and went back to his office where her street clothes were. He had to reactivate her once while she changed. Soon, they were back in his apartment making dinner together. It was safe to have her cut up stuff as long as there wasn't a deadline for the cutting to be completed by.

During dinner, he asked what she thought of his window.

“The store is quaint, in a good way. I love being in a window on an actual street. Mall windows are less interesting. The mix of cars and pedestrians is more fun.”

“You mentioned something about attracting people to the store. I didn't notice any additional customers today.”

“That usually takes a day or two I'm afraid.”

“Did bringing you home tonight reset the clock on that?”

“I'm not sure. Probably. I've never left the stores my owners owned really.”

He didn’t respond to that.

Eventually she said, “It's not a problem. You are very kind. But I don't want to be a burden. Let's go watch th--.” She froze mid-sentence.

“It's just so unfair what happened to you,” he said as he reached to reactivate her.

“Fairness doesn't matter when you have no control over your fate. Now stop being maudlin and let's go finish watching our show. That way you won't have to bring me home every night.” She got up from the table able went into the living room.

He was only a few steps behind her but when he got to the sofa the television was on and the show was as paused as she was. She had not waited so she could sit next to him. He said nothing as he sat beside her, taking the remote from her hand and started the show.