Identikit

by Prudence Walker

Chapter Four

 

Christine was still cooking dinner when I strolled in wearing Misty's usual relaxed style of clothes, a short sleeve blouse, and a pair of hip hugging jeans.

"Hi Misty," is Jan out of the bath yet? I need you take over the cooking while I get my bath."

"Yes she is, I think she is still dressing," I replied, in Misty's voice.

"She is learning fast, don't you think?" Christine said not suspecting anything out of the ordinary. "All she needs now is practice with makeup and you'd never believe she was ever a guy."

"I think that our help, has something to do with her ability to cope with the changes." I agreed, speaking from my heart.

Christine walked to the other bedroom to strip and take a wrap to the bathroom. I continued to manage the dinner as the real Misty came out of our shared bedroom, looking identical to me, other than the different colour of our tops. She started setting out the table and opened a bottle of red wine to breathe. Christine finished bathing and never saw Misty as she went directly to her bedroom to dress.

I went back into the bedroom while Misty took over at the stove. Christine came out dressed in a flowing skirt and blouse. She paused, as she spotted the change in colour of Misty's top. She shrugged, and asked if everything was ready, not commenting on the top. Misty told her it was ready and to call Jan in, as she started serving the food.

That was my cue to enter, and I walked past the astonished Christine, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I sat down at the table and thanked Misty as she handed me my plate, not reacting to my appearance. Christine stood stunned at the sight of two Misty's.

"Misty?" she uttered in a barely recognizable voice.

"Yes, Christine?" we both replied, in the same voice.

She wobbled on her feet as if starting to faint, but Misty reached her, and steadied her, before leading her to the dinning chair, aiding her, as she sat.

"Ohmygod, this is all my fault," she gasped, as we looked at her in askance. The machine has done something terrible, I don't understand."

I laughed, and said, "It's me, Jan," and explained the change.

She looked relieved, and started quizzing me on how I felt. I interrupted and said; let's eat first, before the food got cold. We ate rapidly, as both Christine and I were hungry. I felt I could have eaten more; maybe changing took extra energy out of my body. I knew I'd be snacking on something later. During the meal, I noticed a gleam in Christine's eye and I knew she had come up with a plan.

Later, when everything was cleared away, and we sat relaxing on the couch watching the news on TV, Christine turned to me and said.

"Jan, can you change into anyone? What about a man?"

I stopped watching as my mind froze at her words. Me, be a man again? Why hadn't I, thought of that? Was I so comfortable in this form that it just hadn't occurred to me? The honest answer was shockingly, 'yes.' I had been comfortable just being one of the girls. How much of this was due to the original settings I had entered that first time, I didn't know. I did know that I was reluctant to become a man again. A little voice was trying to say it was because, I hadn't a valid ID for a male body, but I knew better. I had never felt more alive in my life than I did now, even in my job as a cop.

I shrugged, and said, "I hadn't thought about it. Why do you want to know?" I asked.

"Well… it could be useful to try; we may need a man around sometimes." Christine winked. "For doing the hard work," she added with a smirk.

I smiled, thinking of the unmentioned innuendo. I said ok I was willing to try, and sat back to visualize being a man. The image that came most readily to mind was Alan. I could hear his pleasant voice and visualize most of his features. I relaxed, and tried to get into the same state I'd been in, when I became Misty. A shout, and sudden pain, I alerted me to my change. I struggled to release the hip huggers before they burst as my expanding waistline felt like it was getting cut in half. I barely escaped the grip of Misty's jeans as I tried to release my legs. My chest too, felt constricted, as my breasts disappeared into a muscular chest.

Misty gasped as I tore off my top and bra to reveal my naked chest and looked at my groin where my, or rather Alan's equipment stressed the flimsy feminine panties I was wearing. One thing struck me immediately, I 'felt' uncomfortable in this form. It felt alien in a way I'd never ever considered before. It was hard to describe, but it was as if I had put on an ill-fitting suit, I just wasn't comfortable. I'd have changed back to my Jan form, if Misty hadn't dragged me into the bedroom, after saying goodnight to Christine.

To Misty, this was a golden opportunity to test-drive her latest love interest without Alan knowing. I felt awkward and complied only because of Misty's begging look. I didn't really want to have sex with her and that shook me to my core. Here I was, a man with a beautiful woman who I liked, and yet she didn't turn me on like I'd expected. It came to me, as I let Misty have her way with my body while I took a back seat in my own head. The machine had set my default form to a normal heterosexual woman, and although I had altered it though my mutability function, underneath where it counted, I was still that person. In that moment, I knew I was a woman were it counted, for the rest of my life.

I felt a rush of relief, knowing that any male form I took, would be only temporary. I still was attracted to Misty, but it was more a mental, than a physical thing. Misty orgasmed and so did I, the familiar spurt, seeming remote and part of another life. We fell asleep cuddled together and I had some weird dreams that night.

I woke to the feel of my now familiar female form. I was Jan again. I was back. I rejoiced. Misty woke and looked disappointed at my change, but inside I was happy and felt like dancing a jig. My only problem now was, learning about makeup. Misty and Christine were being very patient as they started teaching me the basics. I was willing to learn, knowing this was going to be a part of my life from now on, but I got so frustrated sometimes.

So many things to remember, was it day wear or evening wear, bold or subdued. Which colour to compliment my outfit, I felt like I was back in kindergarten learning to play with crayon's. One thing I had managed to do was my eyeliner and mascara. I learnt how to do it, without stabbing my eyes out or blinking and smudging the wet mascara.

Today I was dressed casual, knowing the moving company would be arriving at the house. A light blue blouse with jeans that were fashionable, without looking sprayed on. I wanted comfort and practicability, no dresses today. Putting on some sneakers with the mandatory pink patches, I was ready. I saw no need for makeup today. Thank god, just a little moisturizer, and pale pink lipstick. Well almost, I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail with a blue scrunchie.

I joined the others at breakfast and I saw Christine wink at me. I smiled, and winked back, which made Misty blush. I finished my coffee and toast and started getting things ready for the day ahead. We arrived at the house half an hour before the movers arrived. The truck backed up the drive and stopped. Two men descended from the cab and walked up to knock on the door.

"Hello, is this the residence of Miss J. Baxter?" he enquired hopefully.

"Yes it is," I answered, conscious of his gaze on my body, as he looked me over. I opened my mind to see what his thoughts were, and was surprised to see, not lust, as I'd imagined, but a keen appreciation of my beauty. I was hard put not to blush under his gaze as I closed my mind to his.

"Well we have some paperwork to do, over the theft of your belongings and a compensation form to fill in." he took out some papers and asked to sit down while he explained.

I went in with him, with the girls following behind. He explained that they had pulled into a truck stop on the journey, stopping cab to cab, alongside an eighteen-wheeler. Just after, another big rig had pulled up on the other side. As their truck was so much shorter, it left a space behind them. A truck pulling up behind them had parked at right angles behind the two big rigs, leaving a large hidden pocket behind their truck. This had happened while they had sat down for lunch, leaving the thieves time to cut the lock and grab the first thing handy. The box with the clothes and the Identikit had been placed in an old stereo box that was clearly marked as such. He thought the thieves had grabbed that as the only worthwhile item in the load and had run off with it without checking.

"Did it seem a professional job?" I asked, trying to ascertain if we had specifically targeted.

"Nah," he snorted, "It was kids most likely. They even left the bolt cutters behind. The police took fingerprints off them, but it's hardly likely they will find them. I'm guessing it was kids passing through, looking for something they could hock for a quick buck."

I sighed in relief; hopefully our whereabouts was still unknown. I had re-opened my mind to check the truth of his thoughts. The man, hearing my sigh, misunderstood, and said the company would more than cover the losses. The figure he mentioned was indeed more than we would have expected, unfortunately, it couldn't replace the irreplaceable Identikit.

I signed the paper accepting the monetary replacement of the stolen goods and stood up to show them where we wanted the furniture put. They worked hard moving and assembling the beds and all the other stuff we had loaded. The girls got the clothes and linen stored away and made up the beds. I supervised, and loaded the shelves with the pots and pans and the crockery. I made numerous cups of coffee for everyone as each took breaks in turn.

I offered to make the men lunch, but they expressed the need to get back on the road before the day got any longer. I made lunch for the girls as the truck rumbled back out onto the road. It was much nicer eating food off our familiar plates and sitting on our own chairs. I relaxed on the couch after lunch as the girls cleaned up. I was thinking on the weirdness of the original owner when a thought struck me.

I started to say, as I headed into the kitchen.

"Hmm is that why I could smell smoke?" Christine interrupted, grinning at her joke.

Not to be outdone, Misty added her voice.

"Thinking, now there's a novel idea," she laughed.

I grabbed a spare tea towel and snapped it on Misty's butt, making her squeal in protest. Christine promptly avoided my swing, calling for time out.

"Girls… or should that be children?" I continued. "I was wondering if this Fred was like me with the ability to morph into female form."

"I think you hit it on the head," Misty agreed. "But you have it backward, Fred must have been a woman with the ability to look like a man."

"How so?" I asked.

Because, when he died, he reverted back to her default form of female." Misty explained patiently.

I was surprised again by Misty's insight; she had a good head on her shoulders, when she cared to drop the 'I'm just a blonde' defence. Even I kept getting fooled by that act, and after all, I should know better than anyone else that appearances are not always, as they seem.

"So," I conjectured, "if Fred was a woman most of the time and only used the male form for interacting with the public, maybe there's a secret cache of clothes for her female form."

"Why not use the same power you did to find the hidden button for the lab," Christine suggested. "You could check out the whole house that way," she added.

I took only seconds to switch to the mode where I was aware of the energy fields. I wandered from room to room checking for anything out of the ordinary. All the power and lighting circuits showed up as bright lines snaking though the walls and ceilings. I paid a lot of attention to the closets, but didn't find anything till I was in the master bedroom. There, I found a dim field of energy inside the closet itself. It was located at one of the numerous clothes hooks fastened seemingly firm against the rear wall.

I pushed, pulled, and twisted at it, until a soft click indicated it had activated. The sound of a soft whir preceded a movement that made the complete wardrobe drop away, descending to leave another in its place. As the other wardrobe slid forward filling the vacated space that had once held our clothes, we were presented with an entire wardrobe filled with clothes totally unsuitable for a 'Fred.'

There were enough clothes there, to see that Fred or Frederica/Freda or whatever female name she went by, did exist outside the bounds of the house. The evening gowns looked expensive and were unlikely to have been used only in the house. Misty promptly grabbed a few to check against her body, and squealed in delight that they seemed to be in her size.

"Hey, don't go claiming all of them for yourself," Christine objected. "Remember if they fit you then they will fit us." She said, moving to intercept another gown headed Misty's way.

I was looking at the labels, or at least trying too, for there were none to be seen. 'Another mystery?' I thought wearily. Then I spied a handbag and grabbed it to see if it would reveal any info. As I emptied the contents, the girls crowded round, forgetting to argue over the clothes. I picked up a wallet that contained a platinum card with the name Freda Parton, and a driver's license in the same name.

A bank statement left me breathless at the amount in the account and I wondered if somehow we could get our hands on it. Misty had turned up a photograph in the side pocket. It showed a raven-haired woman dressed in a silver lame gown, identical to the one hanging in the closet. A man stood beside her in an obvious restaurant setting. It was probably from one of those photographers that go around restaurants, seeking any opportunity to make a quick few dollars.

Her passport that was also in the bag showed that she travelled frequently to all parts of the world, the last one was a few months ago to Russia. I couldn't put all the parts together yet, but it looked like she was involved in some very secret operations. I wondered if she died naturally, or was killed by persons unknown.

There was nothing else in the bag that gave us any more information about who she was or what she did. I reluctantly replaced everything, feeling frustrated at the deepening mystery. I let the girls go back to closet to share out the clothes worth keeping. I didn't care so much as I hadn't had time to develop the natural female instinct for obtaining just what was the right look in clothes. To me, clothes were clothes, I knew the basics, but the intricacies of style and fashion, were still beyond me.

I wandered back into the lounge and sat down. I was happy for the girls, as they sorted the clothes, but I felt rather left out to a certain extent. I was still really a beginner at all the girl stuff. I supposed I would get used to it eventually. Christine had been dressing most of her life and knew far more than myself, both with makeup and fashion sense.

Hearing them laughing in the bedroom, I started to feel jealous. How dare they have fun without me, part of me wanted to rush in there and demand or beg to join in, another part of me wanted to ignore them and wallow in self pity. Poor Jan, the unwanted and unloved, if they didn't want me to join in, fine, I can take a hint. I didn't really understand the irrational way my emotions seem to take over from my common sense. I felt the sting of tears in my eyes, before I started feeling angry.

Feeling at a loose end, I despondently started preparing dinner. We had brought plenty of food with us, so I decided make a roast chicken and salad, and a bottle of chilled Chardonnay to compliment the meal. I sought solace in a glass of sherry, that I sipped while I worked, feeling its smooth warmth settle in my stomach. The girls went quiet and I wondered what they were doing, but refrained from spying on them with my power.

I started to shake as I though again of what I seemed to be missing out on. I let the tears flow silently, as I stood looking out the kitchen window.

"Jan! What's wrong?" I heard from behind me. Startled, I turned to see the girls all dressed up in the evening gowns we had discovered. They were wearing the matching heels and were fully made up as if ready to hit the town. I choked back a sob, seeing them all dolled up. 'They hadn't thought to include me,' I thought bitterly. I turned in a rush as an up welling of emotion flooded my body. I ran sobbing, unable to hold back my tears, out of the house and into the road.

=======

I heard them shouting for me to stop, but I closed my ears and ran on regardless. My emotions had taken over by this time, leaving no room for rational thought. I ran, knowing they couldn't catch me, not in those gowns and heels anyway. I went racing into the trees feeling like a bitch, and unwanted cur, fit for nothing, but to be kicked in the guts. I felt a pressure filling my mind, as if something wanted to escape. Suddenly I felt like a switch had closed in my mind, just before my rational thought processes shut down. I struggled in these restraining clothes. I snarled and ripped them from my body using my teeth and claws. I left a trail of torn clothing as I finally ran free, unencumbered into the evening light.

I found a refuge from the others in an old coyote den; I scrabbled with my paws enlarging the opening disregarding the falling dirt around me in my instinctive need for sanctuary. Finally, I reached the den and circled the nesting materials, before curling up in a ball with my tail tucked around me as I willed for the oblivion of sleep.

=======

I woke cold and cramped, after a night of formless dreams. I didn't know where I was, I tried to move, but found dirt all around me. Was I dead? Had I been buried in the ground? I panicked, trying to find a way out of this earthy tomb, but all I did was bring more soil crashing down. I could see nothing. I did feel an opening but it was dirt clogged and far too small for me to get out. I felt a pressure building up in my mind again as my panic threatened to overwhelm me. A chill went through me and I knew instinctively that the pressure could lead to danger.

I quelled my panic with difficulty as my heart pounded and my laboured breathing slowed. 'Calm,' I thought. I wasn't getting out of this without a plan. I thought back to my last coherent memory of last nights? Events. At least, I assumed it was last night. I remembered running away, before things grew hazy. Odd bits of memories came forward, like using my teeth on my clothes and running on four feet. 'Oh-my-god,' I thought as I remembered curling my tail around me. I had been a dog, a bitch. Just like what I'd been thinking myself to be.

I wondered what the girls were doing, maybe I was better off dead, curious, I opened my senses to the fullest to see if anyone was near. Nothing, I could sense no one nearby. I thought about trying to change back into a dog or a cat to escape this prison, but decided it was too risky. The way my mind had worked last time, I could run away and be trapped in a more impossible position. I had thoughts of being crushed by the relentless pressure of a concrete pipe barely big enough to fit the dog form. I couldn't rely on being able to think properly as a dog, I may be reduced to only animal instincts, of escape. So I waited, cold and alone in the dark.

=======

I couldn't know the distress I had caused, back at the house. Misty and Christine had decided to surprise me by dressing up. When they tiptoed into the kitchen, they were surprised to see me silently shaking with my back to them. When they spoke and I turned, they saw I was crying, with tears streaking my face.

Upset and alarmed, they called and begged for me to come back as I fled outside. They followed only till the driveway before realizing that they needed to change clothes. They scrambled into jeans and tops, before heading out after me. They followed for about a mile before finding the first piece of my clothing torn to shreds. Seeing a trail of clothing heading into the trees, they feared that I'd been taken by a large bear or worse.

Christine had brought the cell phone and wanted to call in the police, but Misty stopped her, suggesting they call Alan. After telling Alan the facts that I'd been upset and had disappeared, he said he'd bring a friend along who had some hound dogs, trained in tracking. The girls returned to the house, to await their arrival. They made up some sandwiches from the chicken in the oven, not knowing when they would next have time to get to eat.

By the time the men arrived with the dogs, the girls were frantic. There was no sign of my returning and it was dark now. Alan tried to reassure the girls that there were no bears in this vicinity, but when he examined the scene, the torn clothing disturbed him as he noticed the teeth marks.

The hounds had started baying the moment they arrived at the scene. They pulled at their leashes and Steve released them, knowing when the dogs reached the end of the trail, they would bay to attract their master's attention. All four started off in the direction of the dogs, with the girls bringing up the rear. Both men carried torches as the night deepened around them. After a mile of two, lead by the occasional howl from the dogs, they heard the distinctive mournful howl from the dogs as they located their quarry. The girls shuddered at the sound, as it seemed so final.

They stumbled into a small clearing where the dogs were nosing round a hole in the ground, occasionally scratching at the entrance.

"It's just a coyote den,' Steve cursed, as he struggled to leash the dogs.

"Lets get back to where the clothes are," Alan suggested, shining his torch around one last time.

Meanwhile, I was asleep deep in the den, not realizing how close help was at that time.

They had retraced their steps and upon finding the clothes, they circled the area, seeking any other signs in the trees. After several hours of fruitless searching, Steve suggested calling in the police. Alan looked at the girls as if to say it was their decision. The girls were torn with indecision, they didn't want police looking into things just yet, but they did want to find Jan. They were not sure if Jan's gifts hadn't altered her body in some way, becoming a monster, so the last thing they wanted was having someone shoot their friend by mistake.

They came up with a decision to hold off till the next day. Alan shrugged, but went along with the girl's choice. He suggested that they all get some much-needed sleep and they promised to return at dawn's first light, to resume the search.

The girls, still dressed, spent an uneasy night huddled together on the couch. Waking groggily from too little sleep, they stumbled around to get some coffee inside them, before the men returned. By the time I had woken in the den the men had arrived with the dogs and had already gathered with the girls at the place my clothes had been found. The girls felt awkward knowing about my morphing ability, but unable to mention it was a possible lead.

The hounds remained leashed as after sniffing around the clothes they surged to follow the scent. The men were baffled by the lack of footprints leading away, but allowed the dogs to continue to lead. When at last they arrived in the same clearing as before, the men snorted in frustration. Ready to return and get further help, Misty asked them to wait while she called my name.

=======

I thought I heard something through my straining ears, so I opened my telepathic sense to the max and nearly fainted as the thoughts of those gathered above the den threatened to overwhelm me. My relief was short lived as I read their intentions to leave, having already been here last night. I needed to show them I was here somehow. I tried yelling but the sound went nowhere and pounding on the roof of my prison just brought more dirt down on me. Seeing the area though their eyes, I saw the hounds sniffing and whining somewhere where I assumed I was buried. Their keener senses must have picked up some hint of my whereabouts.

I nearly despaired as I saw the men turn to leave. I willed the debris over where the dogs were to move around in a circle, using my telekinetic power. This made the dogs howl as the leaves and dirt swirled around them. I felt Misty's mind register the movement and intuitively guess its cause.

"Over here, I think she's in the den of the coyote," she shouted in relief.

"No way, that holes too small for even a child," retorted Steve.

"Please, Alan trust me, we need to dig here," Misty begged.

Alan, looking at Misty's imploring gaze, nodded, and ran back to the truck to pick up the emergency shovel he carried to get out of muddy situations. He was back in 5 minutes, driving the truck smashing down the undergrowth. He was still looking rather out of breath from his run to get the truck so he handed the shovel to Steve.

Steve started digging reluctantly at first, thinking it was a waste of time, but as the hole got deeper, the hounds grew excited trying their best to help. I could see this though Misty's teary gaze and promised I'd buy those dogs the best plate of steak I could get.

I shouted as the shovel edge penetrated the den, narrowly missing my head. I reached up as it retracted, pushing my hand up through to the surface. I felt the shock from Steve's mind as he spotted my slim dirt stained hand sticking out of the seemingly solid earth.

I could feel the relief in the girl's minds as they realized I was alive. In minutes, they had carefully uncovered my muddy naked body. Alan, who had removed his jacket from the run to get the shovel, hastily threw it around my shivering body.

On the careful drive back to the house, I was bombarded with questions. The men were more concerned about what happened from the time the clothes were ripped off to how I'd ended up in the den. The girls were more concerned with the reasons I'd fled from the kitchen and why had I been crying. I managed to hug the girls in the truck, which forestalled answering them for now, but the men needed an explanation, before they got suspicious.

"I got upset over some personal issues, and wanted to escape the house." I started. "Then, as I ran into the forest I got confused, and thought I heard a large animal after me. I threw off my clothes, hoping it would delay them while I ran on. I saw a hole in a clearing and scrabbled inside but the hole collapsed behind me and I couldn't turn around to try and dig myself out." I said weeping.

I checked the men's minds, seeing them fill in the details by themselves. I didn't say anymore and they, seeing my emotional state, left it at that.

The girls still wanted more, but were willing to keep silent until we were alone. Boy, was I dreading that.

I was hurried into the house, where I was promptly escorted by the girls into a shower to get rid the worse of the grime, before being placed into a hot bubble bath to soak up some warmth. Misty stayed with me gently washing my body while I lay back with my eyes closed. I heard Christine clattering around in the kitchen, sounding very domestic. I knew by a quick peek in her mind that she was preparing breakfast for everyone, including Alan and Steve, who were looking at the boat in the boathouse.

Reluctantly peeking in Misty's mind, I saw only concern and love for me. Her ministrations were so gentle, that I hardly needed to confirm it by peeking. When my shaking stilled, and I felt almost human again. I grasped Misty's hand with mine pulling her closer. I reached up with my other hand and pulled her into a hug, kissing her on the cheek. I smiled wryly at her and made as to stand up. She helped fold a fluffy towel around my body, before scooting out to the bedroom.

By the time, I'd dried myself, and pulled on the wrap hanging on the door, she'd returned with some clean clothes. She helped me dress although I protested that I could do it on my own. She obviously didn't want to leave me alone without someone being with me. Was she afraid I'd run again? I resisted the urge to peek and went along with it, till just the three could be alone and we could talk privately.

Alan and Steve came in and sat down, when Christine announced breakfast was ready. I know I was famished, what from first missing dinner, and then the added energy drain of the transformation. Luckily, Christine had added extra eggs to the pile of bacon she had piled on my plate. I gave her a look of gratitude, which she acknowledged with a smile. God, I didn't deserve these girls, I felt remorse at what I'd put them though.

The men were surprised as I tackled my plate with gusto. I think they thought I'd never eat it all, but I wasn't bothered checking to see it was true. I thought about the promise I had made to give the dogs their reward of some prime steak. I mentioned it to Steve, only to have him laugh, good-naturedly.

"I'll take care of that, Miss Baxter, it will be my pleasure. Not that my dogs don't eat well already," he smiled. "I guess they earned an extra treat today."

They left soon after breakfast. Steve stopped and told me that when the boat was operational again, I should try fishing in the lake.

"The fishing is great around here and even if you're not into fishing, hiring out your boat can bring in some money," he commented as he turned to go. "I hope you're okay now, and sort out any problems, I don't want to have to rescue more beautiful naked ladies," He winked.

I blushed at his words, feeling my face heat up. I wasn't used to being called beautiful. Especially from a man, it did weird things with my body, besides the obvious blush. I thanked him again and then from an impulse from… wherever; I kissed him on the cheek. He looked shocked for a second then grinned like he'd won the lottery, his face went red, matching my blush. He hugged me with enthusiasm, and I felt a strange sense of comfort in his arms. Talk about leaping in at the deep end, I had never felt this way before, and I found it wasn't in the least repulsive.

As soon as they were gone, the girls pounced. They ignored my comments about cleaning up breakfast, and pulled into the lounge where they sat down beside me on the couch. They wanted first, to know why I ran away, and why I'd been crying.

I hung my head, not knowing what to say to them. How could I say I was jealous of them and the feeling of looking in from the outside at their fun together? Just then, I felt a trickle of fluid running from between my legs. I got up to rush to the toilet, thinking that I'd peed my panties somehow. The girls tried to restrain me, thinking I was avoiding the question, until Misty looked down and saw the blood. I followed her gaze as she got to her feet, pulling me up with her.

Blood had soaked through the thin panties and was showing on the dress where it had been creased between my legs. I felt faint at the sight, not realizing the cause for a moment. I sagged as I grew light headed and Misty strengthened her grip, holding me up. Christine, realizing what was up. Got up to help and assisted me to the bathroom.

There, they told me to undress and remove my panties. Misty reassured me that it was just my period and that it was nothing to be alarmed about. 'Yeah right!' I thought, seeing blood flowing out of your body in a place you never had before, would alarm most people, even if it were just a natural thing for a woman to experience.

I've seen blood before, copious amounts of it in the course of my police work, but this was different, it even smelled different. Wiping it with the warm cloth, Misty had soaked for me felt nice. Christine was looking at me in an odd way; probably realizing her time would be next. Whether she was looking forward to it, as a final confirmation of her wish to be a real woman, I don't know. I did know I wanted this messy business over and done with.

Misty handed me a tampon. I looked at it with distrust, was that tiny cylinder of white going to stop blood? Just how did one place it? As I took it and looked uncertainly at my crotch, misty, seeing my indecision, said, "wait," and went into the bedroom. Moments later, she handed me another packet. This contained a panty shield, which she showed me how to tear off the adhesive backing and place it in my panties. I smiled my thanks at not having to deal with the mysteries of tampons at the moment, and pulled my panties up and put on another clean dress.

Feeling human again, I went back into the lounge to continue where we had left off. I could feel the pad as I walked and wondered if anything looked different in my movements, as it seemed the pad was trying to keep my legs farther apart. The girls followed me, resuming their positions alongside me.

I started to explain what had happened to set me off, the feeling of being left out, and the jealousy, along with the hurt that they hadn't seemed to care. It just flooded out, along with tears that I couldn't hold back. I felt them holding me as I blubbered out apologies, for what I had put them through. My emotions were all over the place. I didn't seem to be able to control them.

As a man, I was restrained in my emotional releases and then only in private as colleagues in the force where killed or the stress of seeing too many wasted lives took their toll on my emotional control. I had always thought the public release of grief and the attendant flow of tears was something to be frowned on, coming from a man. I lived by a code of never showing public grief. I bottled it up tight inside me until it got too much. I would sometimes weep alone at my place where others could never see it.

Now, I was wearing my emotions on my sleeve, allowing them to be seen by all and sundry. It felt good to get them out in the open and not worry about stupid macho values of what's proper behaviour. I could feel my body's tensions easing as I unburdened myself.

Misty lifted my chin, making eye contact. I saw only compassion… no anger or annoyance at my confession.

"Silly girl," she said, smiling. "You only had to join in, we weren't excluding you. We even sorted the clothes out between all THREE of us," she continued, stressing the three. Sometimes you act like our mother sop that we forget you're the same age as us, now."

I thought back, and realised it was true. My accumulated years of experience had made me take over the role of leader, or 'Mother,' if you will. Me! A mother? What a thought… and yet, It felt sort of nice, like we were a family, even if we were, all nearly the same age.

"We were about to come and get you to try on something too, when we saw you crying." Christine explained.

"I'm such a stupid cow," I added with feeling. "I messed up the celebration dinner I was working on, and upset everything, all because of my silly fears." I said shamefacedly.

"YOU'RE not a stupid anything," chorused the girls, both trying to hug the living daylights out of me. "Don't you realise that when you start your period, you are subject to mood swings, sometimes any petty thing can set you off?" Misty comforted.

"You mean, how I feel now is temporary?" I asked eagerly.

"Well, you are now an emotional creature, that's the way we women are, but the wildly fluctuating moods swings are generally restricted to just around the onset of your period." Misty went on. "Welcome to the whims of femininity," she laughed.

I felt much better and wiped my eyes, before continuing on about what had happened to me after I'd left the house. They were amazed that I'd been able to transform into an animal. Discussion then changed to the subject of the trigger that caused the change. They both came to much the same conclusion that I did, that it was triggered by a defence mechanism powered by my panic.

Christine suggested we go back to the motel and check out, and then do some shopping to stock up the house. It seemed a good idea to me, so we drove into town and loaded up. Misty stopped off to see Alan, while we shopped for essentials like makeup and hair products. Hey! We even bought food. Christine wanted to buy some clothes, but I said maybe later. The last thing I wanted was to be dragged into stores and conned into trying clothes on, while I still felt icky with my period. I promised Christine, we would do it in a few days.

We would have needed two trips to carry everything, if Misty hadn't volunteered Alan into driving out to the house for dinner. I could see myself cooking again and smiled at the thought of being 'Mother' again. This time, the girls pitched in, speeding up the job so we had time to 'doll' ourselves up. The girls had everything laid out after I relaxed in another soothing bath. Alan gasped as we all sashayed in looking like models.

Misty had on a strapless silver lame gown that hugged her figure like a metal coating that glittered at every movement. Matching four-inch heels adorned her feet. Christine was wearing a black gown in satin and lace with a low cut bodice that showed off her figure to perfection. I entered last, feeling somewhat nervous. The burgundy red velvet gown with spaghetti straps felt like a soft vice. It was tight and I was scared I would burst out of it if I breathed too deeply. It hugged my figure in a tight but flexible way as I tottered in on 4 1/2 inch heels. I was frightened I would trip and encased as I was, with little leg movement, I would surely fall flat on my face.

I minced with tiny steps, knowing I was under the intense scrutiny of a man. My ass was swivelling like a streetwalker on the prowl and I knew it was only the supporting look from the girls that stopped me from turning tail. A low whistle from Alan made me blush, almost matching the colour of my dress.

I felt something no man would ever feel, proud of looking like an attractive woman. I didn't feel like a man in a dress, not with my whole body being caressed with this sexy feeling fabric. Every inch of me, from my breasts, to my ankles, was sending me signals that screamed female; I was no man, especially, encased in that gorgeous gown.

We stood together looking at a flustered Alan as he gazed at each of us in turn. We made a game of it by leading him to the table and pulling his chair out. Each took turns in attending to him in one tucking a napkin on his lap while another brought him a beer. We took turns serving him his food as we sat down to the meal. We allowed him to open the wine for us (men have such a knack at that). Poor Alan. He didn't know what to think, I'm sure. I know if it had been me, I'd have thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

The meal was delicious and we chatted on about our plans with the house, staying away from the mysteries contained within it. Alan did broach the subject by saying he had found a lead about who had supplied the hardware down in the cellar. Apparently, a discreet inquiry had led him to a Bob Arnold, a communications expert and former NSA employee.

Alan said he was still living in the area and asked if we wanted him to confront him about the equipment.

"Not yet Alan," I said. "There are a few things we need to check out first." I added.

We got the address for Bob, before Alan mentioned that Warren Matheson, a friend of his, might come out tomorrow to check out the boat.

"I thought you said John was interested in boats and could check it out?" I asked.

"Yes he is, but he's at a conference at the moment and can't get here till next week sometime. Don't worry, Warren runs a small boat rental further down the lake and is a qualified mechanic." Alan explained.

We offered Alan a brandy, but he declined, saying he needed to get back.

"Ladies, it's been a great pleasure to be with you tonight. I hope I'll be invited again soon."

He gave us a kiss on the cheek and a quick hug, although I noticed Misty got a kiss on the lips and the hug lasted a little longer. I grinned at Christine knowingly, as we could almost see the sparks of passion building. I wondered what Misty was feeling, but squashed the impulse to peek.

Later in bed, (Misty was sleeping with me) I asked her what it felt like to kiss a man on the lips. She told me, sleepily, to look in her mind. After thinking if I should or not, I opened my mind to hers and experienced what she was thinking as she recalled it to mind. I felt almost as if it was me, Alan was kissing. I felt his hard lips against my soft ones and the way my body reacted to his musky scent. My nipples tingled and I felt like I was putty in his arms as his tongue wrestled with mine. I withdrew slowly, thanking Misty with a hug as we spooned together in a sisterly fashion.

=======

A phone call alerted us to the arrival of Alan's friend Warren, who said he'd be around in a half an hour. We were still tidying up after breakfast when he drove up in a Chevy pickup, so I went out alone to meet him. He climbed out and whistled his appreciation of the view, before turning towards the sound of my approaching footsteps as they clicked clacked on the concrete path. I saw the surprised look on his face as his eyes met mine. A smile warmed his sun weathered face, crinkling the corners of his eyes, bringing out a boyish look of happiness, as his gaze lowered, taking in the rest of me.

"Hello, you must be Warren? Alan told me you might be able to get my boat going." I greeted him pleasantly.

"Ma-am… that's me," he answered, blushing and shuffled his feet, as he looked a bit tongue-tied

"You're a Ma-am?" I joked, sounding surprised.

"Um… no, I meant you." He replied quickly, getting even redder.

"Ma-am?… hmm, that make me feel like an old lady," I teased gently.

"Miss…"

"Call me Jan, please, or Miss Baxter if you want formal." I interrupted. "My friends call me Jan."

"Where's it at, this boat? Ma-am…um, Miss Baxter," he said, stumbling over how to address me.

"Jan," I reminded him, gently chiding him.

"Jan," he managed to correct himself.

"This way," I said, leading him over to the boathouse.

He lifted the covering and whistled, appreciatively. Then he removed the cover completely, seeming to have forgotten me as he climbed into the boat. He examined the engine, checked oil and fuel levels, and then looked at the battery, checking the acid levels in the cells. He moved forward and turned the key. I heard a faint click, then nothing. He grunted and turned to me.

"The battery is flat. I'll need to take it back into town to charge it or replace it if it has had it, okay?"

"No problem, will it take long?" I asked.

"Depends if the battery is still ok, it will take a few hours to charge. It does look fairly new so I'd hazard a guess that it will be round lunchtime before I get it back. If you like, I can change the oil as well," he added.

"Okay, whatever you think best," I agreed hurriedly. I needed to think about going to the bank and thought I could leave the boat in good hands. I left him to it and went back inside.

=======

I gathered the girls in the bedroom and outlined the plan I had in mind and asked for a volunteer for a driver come lookout, Misty volunteered and we got ready to put the plan into action.

I knew what Misty was seeing as she waited in the car by the bank. A raven haired women, age around the mid thirties and dressed conservatively in a tailored three-piece suit, was walking confidently into the first national bank. I could 'hear' Misty, wishing me good luck as I entered the bank. I didn't exactly feel as confident as I looked. True, I looked outwardly like Freda Parton, but inside, I was a quivering Jan Baxter, the latest addition to the female population. I clutched my handbag with the bank statements, credit card, and ID close to me as I fronted up at the teller. I explained I wanted to get a balance check and with draw some cash.

I handed over my credit card to the teller and after punching in the number on her computer, asked for some ID, as the account hadn't been activated in several months. I handed over my driver's license and held my breath. She looked at the photo and then gave it back with a polite thank you. I sighed silently in relief, with passing one hurdle. She handed me a statement of 'my' balance. I nearly fainted at the amount I saw on the bottom of the sheet.

"I'd like to draw out the total amount and close this account," I said as authoritatively as I could manage.

"With the amount you are asking for, I must let the manager settle the account. Please wait while I'll check to see if he's available," the teller explained, as she put up the closed sign and walked to an office in the back of the bank.

I sweated out a few minutes, while I waited for the manager. My worst fears arose, as a man walked forward and greeted me by name.

Hastily, I scanned his thoughts to see if he knew me personally and what sort of 'voice' I had, if he did. The 'voice' he was expecting sounded a little more structured than the voice I used to the teller. Fortunately, I didn't need to speak until we were out of earshot of the teller. My smile sufficing until we were in his office.

"So nice to see you again, Miss Parton," he said, pulling out a chair for me. "I hear you want to withdraw all your monies from this bank, I hope it's not something to do with our service, now?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," I replied in 'my' voice. "I'm emigrating to New Zealand, I hear it's for sale," I joked.

He laughed, and brought out some paperwork for my signature. This was the tricky bit; I scanned his mind as I picked up the pen. I was left-handed, and knew my practice signing 'my' name, showed up big discrepancies. I saw the surprise in his mind that I wasn't writing with my right hand, and I immediately set about altering my right hand beneath the gloves I was wearing.

I signed my name and looked at it in feigned disgust.

"Sorry, it's a poor signature, but the accident means I have to write with my left hand now," I apologized.

"Accident?" he asked, sounding puzzled, as he looked at my signature.

I pulled off my glove from my right hand, to show the crippled ruin I'd formed of my fingers using my morphing power.

"It's one of the reasons I've not been around," I grimaced as if from bad memories.

"I'm so sorry you were hurt, look how do you want this money to be handled? A bank draft? Or a direct transfer? Just let me know." He offered sympathetically.

"I'm flying out today, so I'll take 500,000 in cash now and the balance I'll leave to my niece to handle tomorrow, if that's alright?" I replied.

"That's over 5 million dollars. You're sure you want someone else holding that sort of money?" he asked incredulously.

"I trust her like I do myself," I said honestly, grinning inwardly at the joke. "Here's a photo of her." I went on, showing him a one we had taken of me with a Polaroid only an hour ago. "She will have a signed waiver from me authorizing her to act on my behalf." I continued, forestalling any further arguments.

I left soon after he organized the money into a satchel. I kept my mind open to see if there were any suspicious ideas floating around in that head of his. Thankfully, there were none, and I was soon out of the bank with the money and walked quickly back to the car. Misty had the car running by the time I got there, and it was throw the money in the back and head back home. I whooped in relief and gave Misty a one-arm hug as she was driving, and then told her how it all went.

She laughed in relief, knowing we were financially set, courtesy of our dead mystery person. I worried that I'd have trouble changing back into my Jan body, after all, the last few times, I'd let nature do it's thing by sleeping though it. Now, I'd have to do it by my own memory. I concentrated on visualizing the image I had been seeing in the mirror lately, and slowly, my form starting changing.

Before we were halfway home, I had managed to change back to my comfortable Jan form. It seemed to me, that after initially visualizing the form wanted, and the onset of the change started, the process took over automatically, and I could relax and let the details take care of themselves.

I had only just changed back out of Freda's suit and into some tight jeans and a crop top, when I heard the sound of Warren's pickup pull up outside. Christine had taken Misty down into the basement to stash the cash, so I went out to talk with Warren. He had the battery under one arm and a container of engine oil under the other.

I followed him into the boatshed as he explained that the old battery had refused to charge so he had brought out a new one. I watched him install the battery and start to drain the old oil out of the motor. I wanted to help, even if it meant getting my dainty hands greasy, but I managed to refrain and stuck to looking awed at his expertise and handing him a tool, occasionally.

He replaced the oil filter before refilling the oil, and then he refastened the covers over the engine. I thought he was going to fire the engine up, but instead, he went and opened the main doors leading to the water. Climbing aboard, he showed me the start up procedure. Moving the throttle forward an inch, he pulled out a choke knob on the dash and then turned the key.

A whirr and the motor turned over…coughing a few times as the fuel started to circulate… then a roar as the motor caught and thundered its annoyance at being woken. The noise was deafening in the semi-enclosed space, no wonder Warren opened the doors. Warren shut down the motor immediately, to my disappointment.

"It needs to run in water for the water pump to work, otherwise we risk seizing the motor." Was his quick response to my look of inquiry?

The girls had rushed out to see what the noise was and Warren's eyes grew big at seeing more fine specimens of feminine pulchritude.

"Can we try it in the water?" I asked pleadingly.

"Okay but lets clear the rowboat out and check out the winch," Warren suggested. "Maybe the others would like a run in the boat too?" he added. "Why not let them change into something less fancy, while I get the boat in the water.

Getting a chorus of 'yes, we want to,' I went back inside with the girls. I suggested they change into something suitable for the water, as I went to put on a bathing suit. Soon, we were gathered at the end of the narrow jetty alongside the boatshed. Misty was wearing a silver bikini that left nothing to the imagination. Christine had picked a pair of cut off shorts, so tight they looked painted on, and a blue sports bra top. I chickened out, by wearing a one piece in purple, with a silver slash running diagonally from shoulder to hip.

Warren got the boat out and poled it over to the jetty, where we jumped in. Warren then fired up the boat and guided it slowly out into deeper water. He then vacated the driver's seat, offering it to me while he moved in the seat opposite. I opened the throttle, revelling in the throaty roar as the boat leaped forward. Unfortunately, the G forces pushed me farther back in my seat and I lost my grip on the wheel. My other hand holding onto the throttle was pulled backwards opening the throttle to the max. I was about to flip over into the rear of the boat as the acceleration took hold of my lighter body, when Warren flung himself over mine. He pulled the throttle back, slowing the boat, as we untangled ourselves. The girls were okay as they were seated in the rear and had a firm grip on the side rails.

I grumbled about needing a bigger cushion to sit on, as the seat was too low. Warren offered his services as a temporary cushion, until I could get the seat altered. It felt odd to sit on a man's lap, while he had his arms about my slender waist. I took control again, slowly increasing speed until we were clipping along at a good rate of knots. I leaned back against Warren's chest, feeling that same feeling of security I'd felt before.

Now that we were able to cruise along on the nearly flat water, Christine grew curious about the boat itself. Misty, on the other hand, was only interested in the scenery, as we flashed passed with a roar. I looked over the dash looking at the row of gauges that indicated oil pressure and engine temperature. There was another indicating our speed in knots. I saw a lever and turned my head to shout out to Warren if he knew what it was for. He shook his head and indicated I pull it.

Wondering if I was doing the right thing, pulling a lever on a boat that belonged to a mystery person, I pulled it, half expecting to be ejected like in one of the James Bond movies. I remained firmly planted on Warren's lap, but the sudden reduction in exhaust noise made me check that the engine was still running. We all felt the boat slow as the engine came under load as the engines exhaust was diverted away from the rear facing pipes and into the pipes that went underneath the boat.

We could see the steam and hear the muted burble coming from the prop wash as the boat sped in near silence, as compared from before. Talk about James Bonds or the movie Blue Thunder, we now had our own 'Whisper Mode.' Obviously, those box like objects were diverters. I moved the lever back about half way so that the noise increased to a subdued roar and the speed increased.

Christine looked at me with a quizzical expression. I knew what she was thinking without even peeking. It was just another item on our growing list of unexplained matters to be looked into. This was looking more James Bondish by the minute. I saw Christine opening the shallow compartments lining the sides of the hull. Possibly looking for more clues, I kicked myself for not doing the same when I had more privacy.

I peeked into Warren's mind to see what he thought of the boat and its unique modifications. I was Pleased to note his thoughts were more about the sensations he was getting from my butt on his lap, than the noise-reducing device. I had noticed a lump pressing upwards, but had been too busy to worry about it. I blushed as his thoughts turned to the possibilities of getting into my pants (no he wasn't a cross dresser). I stopped peeking, as he thought about how he wished he could hold me tighter and higher up.

I felt flattered and gave him a wriggle of my bum as I settled back. I then did something surprising to both Warren and myself. I lifted his hands up to cup my breasts using my free hand. He rested them there, content to gently squeeze them. It felt wonderful to have someone's fingers gently kneading my breasts. The girl's saw what I'd done and I caught a wink go between them. I didn't care, it felt great, and I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by. It was just a little harmless fun that I knew wouldn't go any further than that.

Warren directed me across the lake to a large jetty that had a gas pump sitting on it. As we tied up, he explained this was his place where he hired out boats. He said most boaties filled up at the pump and paid at the small bait and tackle store at the head of the jetty. I decided to fill up, but remembered I hadn't brought my purse. That was one thing I had to get used to doing now, strange as it was to me. Warren saw my dilemma and offered a free tank full as a complimentary welcome gift. Smiling my thanks as he operated the pump, we walked to the store to browse inside.

I saw a few foam seat squabs that would do nicely to act as a booster seat for me. I went outside to see Warren on his way up to us. I asked him if I could purchase the foam seat and pay him when I paid for the oil and battery. He agreed and I did something that I hoped I wouldn't regret later. I kissed him on the lips. I was an impulse thing that came from somewhere in this hormone saturated body of mine. The funny thing was, it felt nice, and something that Warren obviously agreed about, looking at the smile on his face.

After making the return trip safely, now that I could reach everything with the added cushion, we tied up the boat and decided to clean all the dirt off that had accumulated over the months of disuse. The water that had splashed in during the full throttle experience had made tracks in the fine dust, giving it a streaky look. The girls offered to clean it and went to get hot water and sponges. I pulled out the removable foam cushions so they could be cleaned more easily. I saw something disturbing under the driver's seat, and waited for the girls' opinions on my gruesome find.

The girls returned with buckets of soapy water and sponges. I asked them to look at the driver's seat and tell me what they thought the stains were on the wooden base. Christine rubbed her finger in it and sniffed it.

"Looks like blood to me," she offered, looking puzzled.

Misty agreed and asked if we thought it was human blood. I said it looked like it, and there was too much to be just an accidental cut. This looked more like blood one would expect from a serious wound. The whole bottom of the seat compartment was covered in a mass of dark brown stain. On a hunch, I pried up the floor slats that protected the hull of the boat. Underneath, we could see more of the blood that had pooled there in a large area. Some of it had been loosened by the fresh influx of lake water that was sloshing in the bilge, and it was turning the water a reddish brown. I scraped a small sample off to study later, and asked the girls if they could manage to winch up the boat and open the bilge cocks. I wanted them to hose down all the boat and drain the waste out the cocks.

I took the blood sample up to the house, where I put it a clean snap lock plastic bag, and placed it in the refrigerator. I then rang Alan to see if he knew someone who could check the sample, (explaining the circumstances) and who could keep the information quiet. I then asked him to see if he could get hold of a reasonable microscope for me to borrow for a few days. He said he'd bring out one from home, as he had a 1000x magnification one from his university time.

Going back out to see how the girls were doing, I wondered what was next on our list of discoveries. The girls were looking at a blood stained rag that Christine had uncovered in a small compartment by the drivers seat. I saw that the compartment was part of the seat itself, and hardly noticeable when it was closed.

"Look Jan, there's something wrapped in this rag," Christine explained.

"Well show us, don't just stand there with it," I urged.

Christine unwrapped it gingerly, as if it would explode. For a second there, I thought to mention it might be dangerous, but too late, she'd already uncovered the device. Looking at it, we could see it was about the size of a remote control. It was made of some kind of composite material that I couldn't identify. There were three buttons on it and a bezel on it; two of the buttons were small, leaving one larger button. It seemed to have no openings for batteries and when I tried pressing on the smaller buttons the bezel lit up with a steady red glow. The larger button, when pressed, did nothing, or at least nothing I could see. The other small button turned the light off, so I assumed they were the on/off buttons and the larger one was the activator.

Misty suggested walking around the property while we pressed the activator to see if it would open anything around the house. After fruitlessly completing a circuit with nothing to show for it, we decided a council was needed. We found some paper and listed everything down.

1/ hidden room with secret communications centre.
2/ owner is a female who can become a man.
3/ hidden boat containing bloodstains.
4/ a remote that doesn't open anything.
5/ body was taken by M I B??
6/ a passport that showed varied world travel.

We looked at the list wondering if anything made sense. Wait a minute; the remote was hidden in the boat. Why there? Was it for opening something where the boat was able to go? I put it to the girls and they agreed it could be a possibility. The other things on the list seemed to indicate a secret surveillance of something. Was Freda fatally wounded by persons unknown, and she struggled home to die? If so, she must have come from somewhere else and travelled in the boat, bleeding all the way, to here, where she was eventually found.

To be continued.

  

  

  

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