“Dying, he found salvation from a can of mysteriously-mutated Hugglebugs spray, and sanctuary in the form of a dead girl.”

The Inheritor

A Hugglebugs story

by Prudence Walker ©

Readers note: Although this story is complete and stand-alone, this story follows on from the conclusion of Clothes Horse 2 (The Sequel), but two years later on. Readers are advised to read Clothes Horse and Clothes Horse 2 first, as it explains the presence of the can of spray used in this story.

 

Chapter 1

    Somewhere along a tree-lined road between Celoron and Jamestown there rests an unused can of Hugglebug spray, exposed to the heat of direct sunlight and sub-zero temperatures, It has lain there, undisturbed for several years. The nanites inside have undergone a number of unplanned physical and electrical changes since their original programming. Polarisation shifts and subtle molecular changes, due to extreme thermal differentials have altered the properties of the nanites, far beyond those that its producers ever expected

    Not far from where the can lay, a young man stumbles along an old railway track dressed in ragged clothing, held tight against his freezing body. He cut across the tracks, looking for some sort of shelter against the inclement weather. He then heads for the trees that line the same road where the can had lain undisturbed for so long.

    In the nearby city, a girl breathes her last as two thugs toss her naked and weighted body off from the boat landing at the corner of Jones and Gifford Street and 8th into the icy waters below. Picking up her discarded clothing, some showing the fresh blood that had come from her recently inflicted wounds, they then bundled it up in a bag ready for disposal far from the murder scene. They drove rapidly toward the outskirts of town, the two killers heading in the direction of Celoron.

    Drax finds some respite from the wintry winds between the trees, and he sits down thinking again of the circumstances that brought him to this sorry state. Once, some months ago, he was a healthy young man with good prospects for a job, having a knack for artistic design. His world came crashing down around him as he discovered he had only scant months to live. What began as a routine medical check-up ended up as a sentence of death, as the doctor found he had an inoperable tumour at the base of his Cerebellum that would end his life within a month or two.

    Drax, (a name he had adopted from a comic book hero) was devastated by the pronouncement of his impending fate. He walked around for hours in a daze before making a profound decision to live the good life with his savings for as long as they lasted, before he got too sick to enjoy himself.

    Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, his money ran out before the doctor’s prediction became a reality, and he was forced to beg and scavenge for food and shelter for the past few weeks. Wandering from place to place in the futile search for better sources of sustenance, he eventually managed to board an empty boxcar that he assumed was heading south away from the winter snows in his hometown. While sleeping, the train changing tracks had gone unnoticed, as it went from a southerly direction to an easterly one. In the comparative silence of the rail yards, the banging of the boxcars as they were being shunted had awoken him. Startled, he then stumbled out into the night in freezing icy winds not knowing where chance had placed him.

    Meanwhile, not far away, speeding along on Livingston Street, the two murderers checked for observers, before they opened the car’s window, and threw the bag containing the murdered girl's belongings out in the direction of the trees that bordered the road.

     “Well that’s the last we’ll see of Phoebe,” Tom, the larger of the thugs said.

     “Yes, I’ll be glad to get out of this stinking burg,” replied Dan. I still wonder why we had to kill her off though.”

    “Boss’s orders you know that” replied, Tom.

    “Yeah! But she looked a nice kid, must have pissed the boss something awful to warrant her death.” Dan said sullenly.

    Just then, Drax, hearing the loud thud of the bag landing almost on top of him where he sat against a tree, thought, ‘I wonder why someone’s throwing rubbish from a car at this time of night.’

    Thinking that whatever had been tossed might come in handy as a windbreak, he started to search for it in the gloom between the trees. Luckily, a car passing threw enough light to show him the whereabouts of the bag. Bending over to grab it, the light from another car glinted off something metallic shinning in the grass.

    Reaching down, he felt the outlines of a spray-can with its lid still securely fastened on top. Never one to throw something away until it was used up or broken, he took both the bag and the can back to the tree he had been using as a windbreak.

    By the feel of the bag and a quick fumbled exploration inside, he knew it was some sort of clothing. Thinking that he needed to use one of his few precious matches to show just what it was he had, he got up, and started looking for a more sheltered area. Walking just off the verge so that he could duck out of sight should a vehicle start to slow, (the last thing he wanted was to be picked up as a vagrant). He spotted what looked like an old abandoned railway storage shed nearby.

    Walking round it, he saw the single window had been broken and hanging partially open. Managing to chin himself into the room leaving the bag outside, he found that he could unlock the door. Retrieving the bag, he went back inside and shut the door. Looking around the shed he saw an old Hurricane lantern that was once used in signalling trains. Sniffing, he detected the pungent fumes of kerosene. Managing to use only one match he got the rusty lantern lit, leaving the top open, it threw strange shadows around the tiny shed. For a minute, he cupped his hands over the flame, relishing the small amount of heat to warm his near-frozen hands.

    Looking down at the bag, he moved the lantern closer. Opening the bag, he found what seemed to be a complete, previously worn outfit for a young woman including handbag, shoes, and even jewellery.

    ‘How odd?’ He thought, but then as he held the clothing up he saw the bloodstains and surmised that something bad had happened to the young woman Going though the handbag he found credit cards and a drivers license plus the usual makeup and other female paraphernalia. Thinking of the cold outside he wondered if any of the items would fit him as added insulation as long as it was hidden under his old clothes it shouldn’t matter. From the blood, his instincts told him that Phoebe (according to the ID) was beyond caring who wore her clothes.

     Normally, the thought of wearing clothing from a dead person’s body especially those of a female would have been repugnant, but this wasn’t a normal situation. It was survival, and anything that prolonged it was acceptable.

     He stood there scratching at the scabs from the lice that had infested his once clean and unblemished skin. Seeing the can sitting next to the now empty bag, he lifted it up to the light to read what was left of the label. It mentioned something about hugglebugs, he shook the can, and he could feel that it was full by the way the fluid inside sloshed around. Removing the top, he sprayed a little on his skin to smell it. ‘Hmmm nothing detectable, could this be a bug spray?’ he thought. Returning to the bag, he started to remove his tattered dirty clothes.

    Then standing naked, his skin starting to get Goosebumps in the cold air he reached for the spray and generously sprayed himself head to toe, thinking it may get rid of the lice if he’s lucky. The spray when it hit his open sores stung a little, but it soon wore off and feeling cold, he reached for the clothing. Grabbing the woman’s panties, he quickly pulled them on, then her slip. He was careful pulling on her dress, fearing that it might split, so delicate seemed its construction. With it over his head and smoothed into place, Drax was surprised by how well it fit. Reaching for the pantyhose he started to pull them on, but paused, thinking these need extra care if he wasn’t to tear them. Easing them gently up his legs, the enveloping nylon feeling unexpectedly pleasant as the gentle compression seemed to massage his legs. He had discarded the bra as unnecessary, and put it to one side.

     As he started pulling on his old clothes, the sudden odd feel of his body struck him. Nothing felt right, it was if his skin was crawling over his bones. Even his bones felt like they were altering. Getting worried that the final stages of the tumour might be affecting his mind, he sat and waited to see if the effects would pass off.

    Sitting there alone in the shed, the flickering light of the lantern seemed to be causing the shadow of his body to alter; he laughed quietly to himself. ‘If my friends could see me now,’ he thought. Dressed in female clothing, filthy, with sores all over my body, my short blond hair now grown to long silky black hair…

    “What?... I don’t have long black hair,” he exclaimed out loud, putting a hand up to his head and bringing a handful round to look at it.

    “What’s happening to me? Why does my voice sound different too?” Looking at his hair, he noticed his hands had shrunk and were slender and his fingers were long and elegant. ‘Elegant?’ looking more closely, he noticed that his nails, once broken and grime encrusted now sported feminine tips, nicely rounded.

    ‘These are a woman’s hands,’ he thought. Now seriously doubting his sanity, Drax did a quick check over the rest of his body. Starting at his head, he could tell there had been major changes in his features. Higher cheekbones, smooth soft skin where before there had been beard stubble. His lips felt fuller and his eyebrows and lashes were different too. Getting more panicky by the minute, he felt his arms losing what muscle tone they had, becoming slender and graceful.

    Looking down, he could see and feel something different about his chest. Not only was it pushing the dress front out where it shouldn’t be, but he could also feel what seemed like breasts there. Confirming his suspicions as he cupped them with his hands, he guessed they were very large. The sense of weight as they rested on his chest pulled his thoughts over to the bra sitting nearby. ‘Yes it looks as if it should fit,’ he thought.

    ‘What am I thinking?… Fit!… Now I know I’ve lost my mind.’ Suddenly the words of his old Sensei came to mind, about centering one’s self. Going into a near trance like state as he sought his Chi, Drax found himself calming then, as his feelings of panic washed away, he found himself able to think clearly again. Clinically and calmly, he continued his examination of his or should that be, her body. Logic told him/her that he/she had been fully transformed. Drax’s hands confirmed that indeed, she was now a woman. His once proud male organs were gone, replaced by the mysteries of a woman’s sex.

    At about the same time Drax was discovering her new sex. In a run down house some 50 miles beyond the outskirts of Celoron, a phone conversation was going on.

    “Yes boss all done.” Tom said. “The girl’s gone forever,” he continued.

    “And the evidence, the clothes and belongings? Destroyed?” came back across the line.

    “Um… yes boss,” Tom said nervously.

    “You don’t sound so sure, I want them destroyed completely, nothing to come back haunting us in the future. I need for her to just disappear without trace, you understand that?” The voice demanded.

    “Yes boss.” Tom replied, silently signalling to Dan.

    “Remember, I want no one to have cause to question the acquisition of her inheritance. Without her, the estate will eventually fall into my hands.”

    “No problems boss,” Tom answered.

    Hanging up the phone, he turned to Dan who was standing next to him with a questioning look in his eyes.

    “What’s up Tom?” he queried.

    “The damn bag is what! I knew it was stupid to just throw it out the window, we need to get our asses back there and recover it before anyone else does, and more importantly, before the boss hears about it.”

    With that they went and got back into the car for the race to the bag.

     Realising that if… ‘She’ wanted to walk anywhere; the bra was now a necessary requirement. So pulling off the dress again Drax reached for the bra ... suddenly, a thought flashed though ‘her’ mind and instead, reached for the half full can of spray.

    Turning it over carefully, as if it was a bomb, she tried again to read what was left of the label. She could see what looked like the words… Hugglebugs Company and what looked like directions of use, but they were too small to make out in the poor light. Vowing to make sure, he/she kept the can to find out if there was some sort of antidote to the spray, realising that somehow the spray, impossible though it seemed, had been the agent of the changes. It had given him a body that seemed directly linked to the putting on of the girl’s clothes, had he now become the person that had worn these clothes?

    The frigid air on her near naked body, (Changing to the feminine pronoun seemed a necessity). Stopped further speculation as to how it had happened and the true identity of her new body form. Pulling on the bra seemed like an exercise in gymnastics, but at last her breasts were sitting comfortably in the cups. Pulling on the dress again she noticed the fit was better. Starting to put on ‘his’ old shoes, she found the size of her new feet swam in them.

    Sighing, she startled herself with the, oh so very feminine sound coming from her lips. She looked again at the shoes that had come with the clothes. They had 1  ½ inch heels and she was grateful that they weren’t any higher, slipping them on, she tried walking a few steps.

    Meanwhile Tom and Dan had stepped out of the car along where they guessed they had jettisoned the bag, and were walking a few feet apart searching the undergrowth along the roadside.

    “Too damn cold now?” grumbled Dan; “Can't we come back in the morning?”

    “If you want our bodies joining the girl’s if someone else comes across that bag, then fine, go back,” snarled Tom. “Me, I want to live a little longer, thanks.”

    “Okay ... I was only saying...” Dan trailed off, as he resumed searching the roadside. After having found nothing, they continued walking until Dan tripped over a root nearly falling. He cursed out loud, till Tom told him to shut up. Continuing on, they came up to the old shed where they leaned against it out off the wind were they discussed their options.

    “I still say we come back in the morning,” Dan said, as he stood shivering.

    “Well if we don’t find that bag you threw out and the contents show up, then we are as dead as the girl, you know that don’t you?”

    “Well I feel nearly frozen to death now,” replied Dan, “I say we get back here at first light when we can see what we’re doing.”

    “It should be here, we dumped it only an hour ago. You better hope nobody found it,” cursed Tom.

    “At this time of night? Who’s likely to be out here now, in this freezing weather?” Dan replied, caustically.

    Then before Tom could reply, Dan walked back towards the car with Tom reluctantly following.

    As they walked away, inside the shed Drax shivered in the darkness, knowing that the bag in question was sitting at her feet. Luckily, she had doused the light when she had heard someone cursing nearby. Fearing discovery, she had huddled under the window out of sight from anyone looking in. Putting two and two together she realised that the two men outside had been the killers of the girl, whose clothes, she now wore and more than likely, resembled. She waited, silently praying that they didn’t want to look inside. As she heard the men saying that they would come back in the morning, she drew a big sigh of relief.

    Drax looked in the purse searching for clues about why would people need the girl dead. The ID in the purse was for a 20 year old girl going by the name of Phoebe Wilson. As Drax suspected she now was identical to the dead girl’s body, it seemed that she might as well assume her name and identity. After all, what else could she do? Being a male on the streets was one thing, but a young girl. No, she’d have to find a way to begin again.

    Wait a minute... If he was identical to the girl then might that mean the tumour was gone? This would change everything, if she were now a healthy young woman... that meant a full life as a female.

    Coming to a decision. Phoebe… as she had mentally renamed herself, decided to wait till just before dawn before leaving the shed. Five hours later, she picked up the rest of her belongings slipping the jewellery on her wrists and fingers and finding that the spray had duplicated the holes in her ears, put the earrings in. Slinging the bag over her shoulder and giving her old clothes one final look, she cautiously stepped outside into the pre-dawn light.

    Thinking that she should get away from this spot in case the men returned earlier than expected, Phoebe started walking, finding that her old training in Tai Chi was helping her balancing on these heeled shoes. The feelings generated by her new form as she walked, the swivelling of her hips and the gentle bouncing of her breasts, and even her long hair blowing in her eyes as the wind blew it around her face was decidedly erotic.

    Knowing that this was now her body made her feel like some sort of voyeur. Feeling sensations not meant for males to understand, it took all her control to keep calm. Feeling decidedly odd, wearing a dress, and walking in heels, Phoebe felt exposed and scared that everyone could tell she wasn’t a real woman. When she was about a mile from the hut the light grew brighter as dawn started breaking and Phoebe could now see that the bloodstains on her clothing were plainly visible. Wishing she had brought her old shirt to cover them, she tried vainly to cover some with her bag.

    Five hours after getting to sleep in an old abandoned house, Tom woke.

     “Come on you lazy sod, wake up,” shouted Tom, as he shook Dan in his bed. “We’re going to be late.”

    “Mflfle..whaa..oh, bu…” Dan grumbled, trying to clear his head.

    “Okay, hold your horses.” He said scrambling into his clothes. “What’s the time anyway?”

    “F**k**g 5 O’clock you moron, by the time we get there it will be light already.”

    “I’m coming already,” Dan snarled back, running to the car while he pulled his jacket on.

    While the killers had started driving back towards Celoron, Phoebe had begun walking along the road. Realising that she needed to reach the address on her new ID, to get some new clothes and to take the time to decide what she was going to do next. At that hour, there were very few cars on the road, but she kept an eye open for a possible ride. A car coming up from behind had her holding her thumb out in the universal gesture. As the car passed then slowed, stopping just ahead, she saw another vehicle going the other way with two men in it. She noticed them looking her way and hurriedly ran as fast as she could to the waiting car, wondering if their looks were just from curiosity or something more sinister. She anxiously climbed into the front passenger’s door, smiling at the woman driver, as she started moving again.

    As Tom, was driving back along the road towards the lost bag they passed a female walking towards them. Something about her seemed familiar, then it struck them, it was the girl…Alive!… By the time these thoughts had gelled into actions, they were almost a mile further on. Tom slammed the car to a halt with a screech as the wheels locked up, then smoking the tires again; he spun the car and accelerated back.

    “Damn! She was right there,” yelled Tom, looking past the edge of the road towards the fields, looking for any possible hiding places. Slowing, they cruised slowly past where they had spotted the girl.

    “Maybe we were seeing things, or maybe it was her ghost,” retorted Dan, smirking a little. “I mean she was dead. There is no way she could have survived.”

    “I tell you, it was her. I saw the bloodstains, oh shit! Are we ever going to get it, if it’s her.” Maybe she got a ride with that car that had stopped by the road. With that, they sped up trying to run down the car that, by this time had disappeared.

    Phoebe looked nervously though the rear window checking on the other car as she saw the brakes lights come on, she knew with a sinking in her heart that that car meant trouble with a capital T. The woman noticed her worried glances in the rear window, looking in her mirrors, she saw a vehicle some distance away making a U-turn.

    “Honey are you in trouble?” she asked, looking at her bloodstained dress.

    Thinking fast, Phoebe said,

    “I’ve been attacked… I think the men in the car behind are still after me.” Looking back, the woman saw that the other car had slowed, opening the distance between them. Accelerating, she managed to put more distance between them, until a bend in the road hid them from view. Still keeping her speed up, the woman asked if she was hurt, or did she want to go to the police?

    “No, only a few superficial cuts. I just need to get home,” replied Phoebe, trying to get comfortable with the unaccustomed pressure on her breasts from the seat belt.

    “Oh! And just where might that be?” The woman enquired politely.

     Phoebe gave her the address. 6 Hillcrest Street. Celoron, which was in her purse, hoping it was still valid.

    “Well that’s good. I live in Avalon Road that’s not too far from you so I can drop you off at your home. My names Rose by the way.”

    “Thank you so much, I’m greatly indebted to you, the names Phoebe, Phoebe Wilson.”

     Rose had by this time taken the first road off to the left and was going the long way to Phoebe’s address hoping to shake off any pursuit.

    “Do they know your address dear? If so, I can wait till you’re inside and you can call the police.”

    “I don’t know Rose,” Phoebe replied, “They may do…” She trailed off.

    “Well here we are,” as they drew up to a small, but pleasant looking house in cream with green trim. “Now are you sure you’re going to be okay?” asked Rose, looking concerned at the rather bedraggled girl.

    “Yes thank you,” replied Phoebe, giving Rose an awkward one armed hug before getting out of the car. Then she slowly made her way to the front door of the house.

    After cruising the neighbourhood for what seemed hours, Tom snarled,

     “We lost them, goddamnit.” Dan looked at his partner in crime and shrugged his shoulders.

    “Well if you were the girl, where would you go?”

    Tom thought a moment, considering, would she go to the police or to her home.

    “Well, what say we cruise past her home and see what’s what, and if there’s any police we skedaddle okay? If there’s no sign of the police, we wait and see what develops. We can always enter at night and grab her then.”

 

Chapter 2

    Meanwhile Phoebe had managed to open the front door with one of the keys in her purse. Hoping the delay in trying the others first hadn't alerted Rose's suspicions, as she waited in the car by the driveway. Turning to wave goodbye to Rose, she entered. Standing just inside the door, she looked around taking in the clean and simply styled interior. Quickly establishing that the house was empty, she went back and locked the door.

    First priority. The bathroom, the uncomfortable feeling of a full bladder, insisting that she discover rather quickly, just how to relieve herself. Looking sadly at the toilet seat she realised that unless there was a cure/antidote to the spray then she was destined to having to sit down to pee. Pulling down her panties she sat and waited. Feeling the pressure build, she tried relaxing, letting nature take its course.

     Hmmm, she thought, you still get the same sense of relief although it feels different and the sound... She found that you had to wipe after, unlike a man where you just flicked it dry. Finishing, she thought, now! The mirror, to get her first look at the person she had become. Walking to the bathroom where she found a  ¾ length mirror, steeling herself for the shock, she stepped in front of it seeing for the first time, her new image.

    At first it was hard to think as this person in the mirror as being her, years of seeing her old male image in a mirror was familiar and comforting. She or rather Drax knew every inch of himself, every expression and every little imperfection. Coming to grips with seeing a totally new and strange face was unnerving, especially when the movements mimicked her every thought. ‘She’s beautiful’... ‘I’m’... lost in the beauty of the image in front of her, Phoebe stood there entranced. Although now she was dirty and bedraggled, clothes ripped and bloodstained. The beauty of this young woman wasn’t to be denied.

    Slowly, she brought her hands up to her hair watching the image do the same. That, which was still Drax was in love with this image. Suddenly an incongruous thought entered, I’m filthy, and I need my hair washed. Stripping off, she kept her eyes on her body admiring the full breasts and pert nipples. Brushing against one as she was removing the bra sent shivers though her new anatomy. Pausing, she started touching them, getting engrossed in the waves of pleasure coming them as she continued.

     Her nipples hardened and the feelings increased spreading downward to her other as of yet unexplored pleasure centre. Reluctantly she stopped, thinking first things first. Clean up, get some new clothes then find out more about this person that I’ve become. Looking around the bathroom, she found all manner of scented bath soaps, shampoos, lotions and other feminine products. She suspected she’d have to learn all about them and their uses if she was destined to remain female.

    Deciding to shower rather than have a more relaxing bath knowing speed was preferable at this time, she washed her hair and cleaned any smudges of blood from her body that had come from the clothes. She was conscious that her new body was far more sensitive to the ministrations of the soap and washcloth. Feeling she could have spent all day in the shower getting to know this gorgeous body, she reluctantly finished, and grabbing a nice warm towel, dried herself off. Then finding a hair dryer, went to work on her hair, spending more than 15 minutes getting it dry.

     Not knowing a lot about styling, Phoebe just brushed it gently after it was fully dry, fortunately it seemed to fall into a natural style of it’s own, ‘either that, or it had been permed,’ thought Phoebe. Feeling somewhat exposed just in a towel, the next stop was the bedroom and some fresh clothes. Opening drawers, she found a bewildering array of underwear in all colours and styles.

    All the knowledge Phoebe had of where and how woman’s clothing went on, was limited to the fact that women wore matching coloured underwear. Thinking that this young woman, whose place she had taken, was meticulous in her habits, she more than likely would have organised her clothing in an order ready to be worn. So taking note of where everything was, she took the top pair of panties, (which just happened to be a pale blue) then opening the drawer with the slips and bras picked out the ones that seemed to match.

    Finding a new pair of hose, she took these to the bed and laid them out.

     Walking over to the closet, Phoebe contemplated her next decision, what to wear. Laughing inwardly at the clique expression, knowing this would be literally true, as she had no idea of how to match woman’s clothing.

    Staring at all the variety of clothes there, made her pause. Seeing there were a couple of jeans, she took a pair off its hanger, thinking ‘I can still wear pants although I’m a girl now.’ They seemed rather small to fit her body and holding them up against her, she realised that it would be such a tight fit that it might even be uncomfortable.

    Opting for something that looked a little more comfortable, she picked out a yellow dress that had an elasticised bodice with a full skirt. Getting dressed this time was easier having the light to see what she was doing; in addition, having done it once, she knew the basic idea.

    Having dressed and wearing slipper like shoes, (what she was to learn later were called mules). She started exploring the house, going from one end to the other. In her search, she found boxes of what looked like baby girl’s clothes, but there seemed to be no signs that a small baby had ever lived here. ‘Maybe they were from her childhood and was just storing them for her own sentimental reasons,’ thought Phoebe. Finding a photo album seemed to confirm this, as several pictures showed a child wearing the same clothing. The album seemed to be a record of the original Phoebe's life showing her growing up. Pictures of her parents were there too, a nice looking couple Phoebe decided. Wondering if she was ever destined to meet them, knowing there was no way she could fool them into thinking she was their daughter.

    Phoebe started looking at the mail that had been delivered. Most of it was on a table near the hallway, but some were still in the mailbox by the front door. Taking these and some of the already opened mail Phoebe sat down at the kitchen table and started to read. There were a few from her parents, saying they would be arriving on the tenth of November and that they were looking forward to staying with her for a week or so. Looking at the electric clock in the kitchen Phoebe noted that it was already the 14th of November. Strange she thought if they had arrived, there should have been some sign in the house, but she knew from her search that only Phoebe’s belongings were here.

    Looking at one of the unopened letters, she found it was from a lawyer and another from a funeral director. Getting a bad feeling she opened them hoping that this had nothing to do with her, well the former Phoebes death. Inside one was a police statement and contained a coroner’s report.

    “Dear Miss Wilson,

    We regret to inform you of your parents' death…”

     Phoebe hurriedly skimmed the letters. From the information she gathered, Phoebe’s parents had been killed in an accident on the way to her place. Apparently, the rental car had veered off the road and had crashed into the lake, drowning the occupants. The only thing that was found to be rather suspicious was some dents and scratches on the car that may indicate an impact with another vehicle.

    Phoebe sat back in the chair, thoughts rushing though her mind. ‘Somebody wants this family dead, hmmm…that puts me right back in the firing line. They killed ‘me’ once, now if they know I’m alive again…’ Phoebe shuddered, thinking, ‘I’ve just possibly been given a new lease of life even if it is as a woman, and now somebody wants to end it, before it’s really started.’

    ‘Well this little lady will not go down without a fight,’ she thought. Looking though the lawyer’s letter, she read that there was a considerable inheritance coming from the will that her parents had made. Noting a contact phone number in the letter, she decided to give them a call, even though it was late afternoon, hopefully, someone would still be there.

    “Yes, this is Phoebe Wilson from 6 Hillcrest Street.” she answered, after informing them of the letter she had received. She wondered if the inheritance could be motive enough, for someone to consider killing people for.

    “No! ... You’re kidding! And it’s all mine? Okay I’ll come in tomorrow to sign the papers.”

    Phoebe dropped the phone not caring if it lay off the cradle; the information she had just been given had stunned her. She was rich, rich far beyond anything she could have imagined, 20 million dollars and a property at Lakewood. The reality of it was still sinking in. This changed everything, did she want to find a possible reversal of the effects of the spray and live as a male again without any money? Plus, there was the tumour; there might be no guarantee that it be gone. The other choice… if she remained as she was, a beautiful young woman, she could live in comfort for the rest of her life.

    Tomorrow she would try and find the company that made the spray, mainly to see if the change was permanent or not. Deciding that, no matter what she found out, learning to live as a woman would an interesting challenge. Phoebe relaxed then, thinking about the possibilities of being attacked, she stood up and went into the living room where she sat cross-legged on the floor preparing the go into a meditative state. As she sank into a lotus position, she marvelled at the ease at which this new body attained it without strain. Then changing her mind, she thought what better way of uniting body and mind than a few exercises. One of the reasons she had taken up Tai Chi was the graceful moments of the kata. Now with this highly flexible body she found that she was able to do the most difficult moves with ease.

    Working until the body felt familiar and comfortable, she ended the exercise, feeling confident of her ability to defend herself against several attackers if worse came to the worse. Showering after her workout, she walked into the bedroom and slipped into a very comfortable nightgown that she found under the pillow. Then deciding that food was her next priority, she went into the kitchen. She did a quick check in the fridge seeing if there was any food handy. Making and eating a light dinner of rice and lightly sautéed vegetables, savouring for the first time in ages, food that hadn’t been thrown out or stale. Feeling fatigued, she decided to go to bed early as tomorrow promised to be a long day.

    Later that same evening, Tom shook Dan awake; saying it was nearly time for them to make a move.

    “I hate sleeping in a car, I end up all stiff,” moaned Dan.

    “Rather stiff than being a stiff,” replied Tom testily, “I still can’t figure out how she survived, and then finding her clothes again, in the dark. I tell you, it’s downright spooky.”

    “Maybe it’s not really her, maybe a sister?”

    “No, she’s an only child, there is no sister,” replied Tom. “Anyway we’ll find out in a few minutes, I saw a light go out in the bedroom, so she’ll be sleeping soon and we can finally finish things.”

    Meanwhile, lying in a bed with clean sheets was heaven, feeling the silky slipperiness of the nightgown against her skin was an unexpected bonus. ‘All because of this,’ she thought, as she turned the can over in her hands. Putting the can on the night table beside her bed she turned the bedside light off, and snuggled deeper under the covers and closed her eyes.

    She never heard the two men, as they pried open the window in the bathroom. Suddenly she was jerked awake as the two men grabbed hold of the sheets, pinning her in seconds. A light was turned on and she saw her assailants for the first time, there was a gasp as the two men saw her fully.

    “It is her, Tom, you were right.”

    “SHUDUP! You idiot, don’t you ever think?” growled Tom. “Never say our names.”

    “Well seeing as she’s not going to be talking to anyone, ever, it doesn’t matter,” Dan replied.

    “Just how did you survive, girlie? Come on, I want some answers.” Tom demanded, shaking her violently.

    “Er… it’s a long story…” Phoebe tried to say, but was interrupted when Tom ripped the nightgown exposing her breasts.

    “Look Tom, there’s no wounds, how can there be no wounds?” Dan said, sounding very frightened.

    Phoebe realised if she didn’t do something soon; she would end up dead in minutes. She remembered a lesson in her martial arts course about how anything can be used as a weapon. Looking to the side she saw the can of spray, thinking if she could reach it she could spray it in their eyes blinding them, which could give her the precious seconds to fight back,

    “I’m a witch, you can’t kill me,” she shouted. They drew back a little at the venom in her voice.

    Dan moved back loosening his hold on her body, enough so she got her arm free. Grabbing the can she flicked the lid off with her thumb and sprayed it directly into each of the thug’s eyes.

    Reeling back with a yell, they started rubbing their eyes trying to clear them, flinging the now released covers back, she jumped out of bed. The thugs stumbled after her, bumping into each other in their rush. Phoebe pivoted with one leg held out in a high kick to Tom’s head felling him like a sodden tree. Vaulting over the bed she came at Dan and evading his clumsy attempts at catching her, she spun, placing her back against his chest. As he grappled her, she sank her elbow deep into his solar plexus. As he staggered back clutching his middle and gasping for breath, Phoebe executed a perfect backward spinning high kick to the head. Dan‘s head snapped back knocking him to the floor unconscious.

    Standing there in the middle of the floor breasts heaving from the exertion, Phoebe considered the two thugs, should she call the police, or could she dispose of them another way? Getting the police in at this stage might cause more problems, until she had established herself comfortably into the original Phoebe’s role. Getting an idea, she retrieved the can of spray thinking if it could change her, it should do the same for them. Swallowing her distaste, she stripped the two men of their clothes, and then she used the some more of the spray over their bodies. Walking into the other room, she came back with an armful of clothing, which she hoped the spray would act upon.

    Coming to some hours later, Tom realised something was terribly wrong. His body felt odd and the feeling of strange fitting clothing was even stranger. Looking down at him....herself, she promptly fainted. Dan, too, was feeling odd, as he woke, surprisingly without the pain he was expecting, knowing the girl had overpowered him. Looking around he saw a young child about 5 years old lying next to him, her pink dress bunched up under her body as she lay on the floor. Looking for signs of either the girl or Tom, he called out. The voice that issued from his throat sounded like a little girl's, high and sweet. Swallowing he looked down at himself and went faint. No longer was there any sign of his old body. Instead, he saw that not only was he now wearing a little girls dress similar to the other little girl, but his body was now that of a girl, too. Getting a suspicion that Tom was the other child he ... she shook what she guessed was Tom

    “Tom? Is that you in there?”

    “Uugh!... who... why’s my voice... ahhh... noooo... please tell me I’m dreaming,” Tom’s voice cried, plaintively.

    “Ah! You’re awake at last,” came a voice from behind them. As they turned, they looked up to see the young girl they had tried to kill looking at them speculatively. "So what were your names again," she asked with an eyebrow raised?”

    “I’m Dan, and that’s Tom, at least I think it’s Tom," Dan replied fearfully.

    “Well I don’t think Tom or Dan are suitable names anymore,” she replied with a grin. “In fact, I think I’ll call you Tammy and Danielle.”

    “Lady, how, and what did you do to us? This is impossible,” moaned the renamed Danielle.

    “Impossible?… oh I wouldn’t say that, merely a simple spell,” Phoebe retorted. “I did warn you I was a witch.”

    “Change us back now,” demanded Tom, trying unsuccessfully to sound threatening.

    “Please lady, change us back and you’ll never see us again,” pleaded Dan.

    “I don’t think so, as far as I see it. I can either take both of you to an orphanage where you’ll probably be fostered out to who knows who, or I can keep you here as my long lost nieces. When I come into my inheritance I will be rich enough to raise you in comfort, where you can grow up as ladies of style.” She looked at them expectantly watching their expressions of dismay changing to ones of speculation. “Well, what’s your decision ... girls?”

    There was silence as the two former men thought about their changed circumstances, then suddenly, the fight seemed to visibly drain from them.

    “Okay, you win,” sighed, Tammy. “I guess we were dead the minute we failed to eliminate you. If we have to be girls for the rest of our lives I would prefer to be rich than the uncertainty of being fostered out.”

    “Well, there is one condition on your staying with me,” said Phoebe. “I need to know who hired you to kill me and I assume, my parents as well.” She looked at the two cute girls in their pretty dresses, thinking they made better girls than men. Maybe they could lead productive lives and redeem themselves for their past acts of crime.

     “Remember, your lives too, depend on mine. Do you think he will let you live even if he does have me killed? Plus, my spell is the only thing keeping you alive,” she lied.

    “If I die… then so will you,” thinking this would stop any acts of revenge on their part. “Should you think of going to the police, do you think they will believe your story? You’ll be lucky not to be put in an asylum for the insane.”

    Danielle looked at Tammy and shrugged as if to say, 'up to you,’ Tammy sighed, which brought look of surprise to her face, as she had momentarily forgotten that her vocal cords were those now of a child.

    “It is your Uncle, he’s the one that would eventually get the inheritance if no other members of your family showed at the hearing tomorrow. He knew of it before your family did, so he took steps to ensure that there would be no one but himself there.”

    “Hmmm. Well we’ll just have to spoil his plans won’t we?” she mused. “Well girls... time for bed, seeing as you know how to do that, I’ll leave you here. There are pillows and a mattress on the floor here, and you can get your own nightgowns out from these boxes of clothes. For your own safety I’ll lock this door, you never know who might break in,” she said, grinning at the two former men.

    Tammy and Danielle struggled with their unfamiliar clothes, finding that with since they were fastened at the back, they needed help, finally getting the other to unbutton them. As they looked in the boxes sorting out some nightwear, they felt the shame of not only having to wear such feminine clothes, but that they were those of a child.

    Getting into some cute little nightgowns, they dragged two blankets over themselves as they lay on the mattress.

    While the girls were trying to get comfortable, Phoebe, being too tensed up to sleep, got out the phone book. She leafed though it looking for the address she needed to discover about the contents of the can. Examining the can again, she tilted it under the table lamp. It looked as if there was an l or something using a vertical stroke before the uggle part, the last part she decided, was company. Going though the letters of the alphabet thinking what sounded feasible, she came up with huggle, juggle, luggle, tuggle. Starting with the H’s she soon found what she looking for. Noting the number, she decided that first thing in the morning she would ring them. Finally knowing there was nothing more to accomplish that night, she went to bed.

 

Chapter 3

    The next morning Phoebe woke suddenly, wondering where she was until she moved and felt the sensations of the nightgown against her breasts. Then the previous day’s events flooded back. Jumping out of bed, she checked on the children, opening the door quietly she saw them cuddled together still asleep. Closing the door she took another shower, revelling in the way the spray felt against her nipples. Iit was mildly erotic. As she used one of the perfumed, shower gels, rubbing it gently all over her body the feelings from caressing her breasts started something she didn’t want to stop.

    Using one hand on her nipples, she slowly started exploring her new sex, her fingers entering the folds and slipping into the opening. Going further she stiffened as her fingers felt? What! At the electric shock-like sensation she felt when touching that small bump, a surge of an oncoming orgasm threatened to overwhelm all rational thought. Rubbing at her breasts and teasing at her joy button, Phoebe could only gasp as the waves of her first ever orgasm flooded her body. Sensations that while similar to her male orgasm, felt even better as they filled her whole body. Slowly coming down from the natural high, she thought this was something she could live with.

     She finished and walked out from the bathroom rubbing at her hair, unmindful that to an observer, she looked like any typical girl doing a normal everyday task. Then she walked into the room with the girls. Stirring them with her foot as they lay on the floor, she told them to find some clothes and get dressed. Going to her bedroom, she started doing the same, selecting a smart suit combination with a white blouse, knowing that she needed to look mature and responsible for the hearing.

    Drying her hair using a hair dryer and brush, she managed to get her hair looking reasonably neat, then looking at jewellery she selected some rings and a gold necklace with a locket that contained photos of her mum and dad. Looking at the makeup on the vanity, she decided that until she knew more about it she would only use lipstick and go for the clean natural look.

    Just as she finished her breakfast of orange juice and cereal the two children came out of the room looking like two patchwork dolls. Having even less of an idea of how to dress they had grabbed the first things that fit. As they were only in 5-yr old bodies they were dependent on Phoebe to get them something to eat, not being able to reach the cupboards were the food was.

    As they were picked up and seated, seeing bowls of cereal sitting before them, they started complaining. Phoebe looked at them and laughed at their antics saying, "Get used to it, girls, you are going to be reliant on others for some time yet, until you grow up into young girls. You’ll eat what I say you eat or you can go hungry.” Phoebe made as if she was going to take the bowls away, but a chorus of plea’s stopped her, and she walked back into the kitchen leaving them to their breakfast.

    Checking the time, Phoebe decided to ring the Hugglebug Company to see what answers she could get. When the receptionist answered, she explained about finding a can of their spray and asked what was in it. After a short delay another person came on the line and asked for the serial number of the can, explaining it could be found at the top of the can under the lid. Phoebe read it out and was told to wait while they looked up the records. After waiting for about 5 minutes, he came back and said that it was a normal batch of clothes adapting nanites.

     When asked what they did and if they could duplicate someone else, he laughed, and said. “No way.” That would only take place if a blood sample had been taken for the DNA. Thinking of the blood on the murdered woman’s clothes Phoebe insisted that it might be possible. The man came back with the fact that the can in question had been sold two years ago and should not be used, especially if it had been lying outdoors. He said the nanites may have undergone unforeseen changes and might not be safe, in fact, he said he would check up on the original recipients of the can and get back to her.

     Phoebe told him to tell them she needed the people’s name so she could contact them herself, but he refused, saying it was against company policy. Phoebe begged saying she had accidentally used it and need some information. The man relented, saying he would tell them her story and let them decide if they wanted to contact her, so giving him her phone number she hung up.

    Going back into the dinning area, she saw the two girls had finished and were arguing with each other.

    “Quiet! There will no arguing here!. If you can’t get on without blaming each other for the fix you're in, I’ll send you to the orphanage.” Phoebe said bluntly. Just as she was going to add more, the phone rang, picking it up, she asked who was calling.

    “Hello, this is Michelle calling. I hear you found a can of HB spray that we threw away two years ago.”

    “Boy, that was quick, I wasn’t expecting a call today,” Phoebe replied, surprised.

    “Oh the Company rang me right after your call luckily, I was here. I thought I’d best ring you, as it sounded as if you were In need of information rather quickly. I felt sort of responsible for having just thrown away the spray where any one could find it.” came the reply over the phone.

    Phoebe explained that she had found the can and had sprayed herself with it, leaving out the fact of her being male before using it. She then asked what sort of spray it was and how long the effects lasted, having found out more about the product from the Company.

    “Well it was the fit to clothing type.” Michelle’s answered. “And it was only for a three day period. How long ago did you use it?” asked a concerned sounding Michelle.

    “This is the third day,” said a dejected Phoebe. Was she going to revert back? She felt let down that it wasn’t going to be permanent, now her plans of living the rich life had gone out the window.

    “What’s wrong, Phoebe?” Michelle asked, sensing that she wasn’t telling her the whole story. “Has the spray done something to you that you’re not telling me?”

    “It’s not something I can say over the phone.” sniffled Phoebe, her emotions overcoming her as the upsetting news of possibly losing this new lease of life all, but dashed her hopes.

    Sensing that something was terribly amiss with the girl on the phone, Michelle asked for Phoebes address, saying she would come over.

    “I live with my husband in Celoron, so I can be there in 5 minutes,” Michelle said, when Phoebe told her the address.

    A little while later, Phoebe opened the door to see an attractive woman standing there, dressed in a lovely figure hugging dress in pale lavender. Phoebe was admiring it when the unexpected thought of ‘what would I look like in that’ crossed her mind. Then the reality of the situation and her imminent return to her old form washed over her flooding her eyes with tears.

    Michelle with that innate ability of women everywhere, stepped forward, hugging Phoebe, knowing she needed her. Holding onto Phoebe, Michelle steered her inside, and seeing the two girls in the dining room, stopped, and asked their names. Getting a rather subdued ‘Tammy’ and ‘Danielle’ she followed Phoebe into her bedroom, after telling the children to stay where they were, as some privacy was needed.

    Michelle was shocked, when after much coaxing, she found out that Phoebe was once a man and that the children in the other room were once killers. She was puzzled as to how the can had made Phoebe into an exact duplicate of the dead Phoebe, saying it wasn’t that type of nanite.

    Maybe she should call the Company, she suggested. Phoebe shook her head, not trusting her voice until she calmed. Finally, Phoebe explained the inheritance and the Uncle’s plans in getting it for himself. Phoebe told how her old body was dying and how she had been hoping to start afresh by stepping into Phoebe’s life.

    Michelle thought a minute about the nanites, and then told Phoebe, "I think the nanites must have altered their programming over time and used the dead girl’s blood for a DNA sample and then changed you into her, I’m wondering if anything else about the nanite programming has changed. Maybe the change is permanent. Have you noticed any signs of reversion to your old body?”

    “No, I don’t think so, at least nothing obvious,” replied Phoebe, brightening a little. “Do you think this might be permanent?”

    “Well, seeing the way the nanites have exceeded their original programming, anything’s possible. You’ll just have to wait till tomorrow at least. My husband took more than the three days to revert from being a little girl. Mind you, it was delayed by a lack of calcium in the diet.”

    “Your husband was a little girl?” Phoebe gasped in surprise.

    “It’s a long story, but essentially he became a little girl because I can’t have children of my own.” Michelle sighed at the recollection of that time.”We have been waiting to adopt a child for over two years, but there’s such a demand and the process takes ages.”

    “Take those two out there in the living room,” Phoebe joked.

    Michelle got a thoughtful look in her eyes, “That's not such a bad idea.”

    “Oh! I couldn’t burden you with them, that wouldn’t be fair.” Phoebe said wistfully.

    Michelle could see that the idea was taking root, so she added a further incentive. “Look you need to go to the lawyers about this inheritance thing. Why not let me take them off your hands for now. You see to that business, and I can check with Bill and see what he says.”

    Phoebe could see the logic in Michelle’s argument so she agreed, saying, “Okay, but only if you think you can handle them.”

    Just as she was going to add more, they heard two voices raised and the sound of little fists banging on the door alerted them to trouble brewing in the other room. They both got up and opening the door saw the two girls pressing their hands between their legs and complaining loudly that they needed to go to the toilet. Danielle was so embarrassed, as she had wet her panties. Michelle promptly took over the task of helping them, opening the toilet door for them after learning its whereabouts from a gesture from Phoebe.

    Tammy and Danielle had never felt so vulnerable and embarrassed as when they needed someone else to help them go to the toilet and having them explain how to hold their skirts clear while they sat down to do something that had been doing all their lives.

    Michelle gave them their first lesson in feminine hygiene on how to wipe themselves dry afterwards. The former men cringed inwardly at having to finally touch their altered sex, mentally denying it had happened couldn’t stand up to the physical sensations they felt while patting themselves dry. It wasn’t until then that it finally sank in. This was their life from now on ... to be female ... Emotions that until now had been held in check suddenly burst forth in a flood of tears.

    Michelle’s heart melted at the sight, and sound of two very distressed girls. She knelt down, and holding out her arms, she grasped them to her bosom.

    Phoebe, walking in to see what all the noise was about, was stunned to see both girls sobbing in Michelle’s arms. Hiding a grin, she looked at Michelle with an eyebrow raised, Michelle, unseen by the girls winked back at Phoebe. As if to say, ‘see I can take care of them.’ The girls, strangely enough, found an odd sort of comfort in Michelle’s arms and seeing there was no censure from acting like the children they were, felt as if the tears were washing their fears away. Tammy and Danielle settled down and Michelle dabbed at their eyes with her hanky, telling them to go play out in the living room while Auntie Michelle talked to their Aunt Phoebe.

    Turning the television on for the girls, Phoebe drew Michelle into the bedroom for another private talk,

    “I have to see about my inheritance in a couple of hours. I need help getting dressed in suitable clothing and I know nothing about makeup, or even what to expect when I get there.”

    “Well the suit your have on is fine, but you do need earrings and some makeup. Here, let me show you.” So, while they kept a watchful eye out on the two girls, Michelle started Phoebe’s first lesson in makeup. Phoebe was very attentive, as she was hoping that the lesson would still be necessary in a few days time, if she didn’t revert to her old form.

    Finally, she was ready. Looking into the mirror, she was stunned to see how beautiful a young lady she was. She thanked Michelle, who just waved off the thanks, saying it was her pleasure. Feeling very nervous about going out all dressed up as well as knowing her every move would be under scrutiny at the hearing, she hugged Michelle before going out to the garage to get in her battered looking Buick.

    Knowing that Michelle would be looking after the two girls was a relief for Phoebe, as she didn’t need the added complication of explaining why she had two children with her at the hearing. If things went well, then maybe, she could think about Michelle’s idea of taking them off her hands.

    15 minutes later she was seated in a spacious office, tastefully fitted out in teak panelling. The man sitting behind an old well worn desk, greeted her with enthusiasm saying, what a pleasure it was to meet her at last. Shaking her hand in a friendly manner, he introduced himself as the family lawyer, saying his name was John Thomson.

    “I’m going to be representing you on your behalf, as there seems to be another claimant present, but he hasn’t a chance, as you are the next descending relative in this matter.” he said, as he smiled at her.

    Phoebe shivered, knowing who the other claimant was, ‘her Uncle.’ Wondering if she was supposed to recognise him on sight, she decided to ignore him and concentrate on keeping her cool.

    “You brought the papers I asked for over the phone?” John asked.

    “Yes I did. Here’s my birth certificate and current driver's license,” answered Phoebe nervously handing them over.

    “Oh! One more thing if you don’t mind, I’d like to take your fingerprints, just for the record.”

    Phoebe felt rather trapped. ‘"What if they have a record of them somewhere. Will they match? Too late now do anything,’ she thought as she applied her fingers to the inkpad and then had her fingers placed on the paper provided.

    John then led the way into another room where three more men were seated. Phoebe looked at each of them, seeking the Uncle that had given her a death sentence. Her eyes caught a flash of something in the eyes of an oldish man that was quickly veiled. Looking him over more carefully, she noted the expensive looking suit and the air of power about him.

    John pulled a chair out for her. Remembering the tips Michelle had given her, she swept her dress as she sat, smiling her thanks at him. John sat to her left and nodded to the man with a pile of papers sitting in front of him.

    “We’ll begin with saying that the estates in question have been bequeathed to the direct descendants of Catherine Johnson, who passed away last month. Her estate, plus monies come to a total of 20 million dollars.” At this, he looked at both Phoebe and her Uncle.

    “Now as I understand it, as her first descendants, your parents,” he said looking at Phoebe. “were killed just the other day, so that means you are the sole beneficiary of her estate.” At this, her Uncle stood up and said,

     “I dispute her claim, I say this is not the Phoebe Wilson named in those papers.”

    “Oh? You have evidence to show that this is not the person named here?” the executor of the will demanded.

    “I DEMAND PROOF!” Shouted her Uncle. “No child is going to just waltz in here and take it all from me.”

    “Calm down, we can verify everything in a minute. If you’ll take your seat.” said John, looking shocked at his outburst. Continuing he said, “I just took Phoebe’s prints not 5 minutes ago,” sliding the forms across the table to the executor.

     “I took the steps of asking a friend of mine in the police department, who specialises in fingerprints to be here today. In addition, he will be bringing Phoebe's prints from the records kept there. She reported a burglary not two months ago, and the police needed her prints then to eliminate them from the crime scene.

    Going to the door, John opened it and called for the man waiting outside. A man bearing that unmistakable stamp of authority entered, introducing himself as Sergeant Kowalski of the local precinct. After been given the set of prints that John had taken and comparing them with a set, he produced from a folder he carried, he set them both down and turned to Phoebe, saying with a smile, "It’s nice to meet you, Miss Wilson. Congratulations are in order, I believe?”

    “Ah yes,” stammered Phoebe, blushing at all the attention. Glancing over at her Uncle, she saw such a glare of hatred and frustration that she thought that if she’d been alone with him just then, he may have attacked her himself.

    “Well I see no reason to delay passing the property over to you, Miss Wilson.” The executor said, pulling out some forms. “If you’ll just sign here and here,” he continued, marking the appropriate places with a pen.

    Phoebe signed the papers, then asked how long before she could see the house and property.

    The executor coughed and remarked that the house, as she called it, could be visited anytime, seeing as there was no problem with her identification. He explained that the estate was mostly in shares that were still providing a sizeable yearly income, and there was about 3 million in Catherine’s bank account that would be transferred.

    John interrupted, saying, “The inheritance taxes and transfers would be handled by him, and that she needed to give him power of attorney, so he could draw funds to settle everything on her behalf.”

     The executor, after John had finished, continued saying, “The deeds she'd signed would be registered, and then she could pick them up anytime after that. In the meantime she was free to move in at anytime,” handing her a bunch of keys.

    In a semi-daze that everything had gone so smoothly, Phoebe was escorted back out into John’s office, where he offered her a drink.

    “Ah… No thanks” she replied, “I have to drive back, and anyway I’m too excited for any more stimulants.”

    “Well, anytime you need me for anything concerning your estate, just call me or my office.” John concluded before shaking her hand again and then escorting her back to her car.

    Driving home, she noticed a black car with tinted windows following at a discreet distance. Wondering if this was her Uncle, she drove deliberately in a roundabout route back to her home. It stayed with her and as she neared the turn off to her house, she saw it slow then do a U-turn and speed away.

     Only partly relieved, she continued towards the house. Then turning up her drive, she drove the car back into the garage. Michelle was there at the door, an expectant look on her face.

    “Well what happened?” she said looking at Phoebe’s face for a clue.

    “I’m rich” was all she said, as she hugged Michelle. “I can’t believe how rich I am.”

    “I’m really glad for you,” returned Michelle, smiling at her.

    “Look, I think I was followed. I don’t think it’s safe here anymore.”

    “Hmm… I have a suggestion, why not pack up what you need and we’ll drive to my place? You can stay there with us till you get sorted. We have plenty of room, even with the girls, and there’s no connection between us that they will find out.”

    Phoebe, after a few moments thought, agreed, and started to pile a few clothes into a suitcase. Michelle helped, telling her the things she should take with her. As Phoebe looked around at her bedroom, she felt a little sad at the thought of leaving, she had begun to like this most feminine of rooms. Spying the can on the dresser she lifted it up, thinking, 'This saved my life twice, I’m not abandoning it now.' Shaking it gently, she could still tell that it wasn’t empty yet.

    Grabbing some extra clothes for the girls from the storage boxes, they then packed everything into Michelle’s car. Bringing the girls out, they seated them in the car, while Phoebe lay out of sight on the back seat. Fortunately, the journey only took 15 minutes, Michelle, going the long way while checking her mirrors, was satisfied no one was following. She drove straight into the garage, the door closing behind them automatically. Using the connecting door from the garage to the house, they soon had everything moved into a spare room.

    Sitting around the table nursing a cup of coffee, Michelle and Phoebe discussed their next move. The girls, having explored the house in search of something to do, soon settled in front of the TV.

    Just then, the front door opened, startling Phoebe, who thought it was her uncle or his minions, but Michelle laughed, saying it was only Bill home from work. He looked a little startled himself seeing not only Phoebe, but also two young girls sitting in the living room. Phoebe could see the curiosity showing in his eyes, but he said nothing, waiting as Michelle made the introductions. She liked the open friendly manner Bill had, not condescending or impolite. After getting a fresh coffee, he sat down as Michelle told him the whole story.

    Phoebe watched his face as the story unfolded, waiting for derision or disbelief, but all she saw was concern and wonder. He looked up at her when Michelle mentioned she had been a male, surprise in his eyes, but as Michelle continued, she saw anger and worry war across his face. Finally after Michelle had finished, he turned to Phoebe and said,

    “Damnit! You should have voiced your suspicions to the police, even if you have no proof, there’s plenty of motive, and seeing the way he was at the hearing, it wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to see the a connection.”

    Bill... hold on, she’s only just come to terms with being a woman, she still doesn’t know if she’s going to revert back yet.” interjected Michelle. "Don't go so hard on her.”

    Sorry... it’s just those sorts of people get me angry. I’m only concerned with your safety,” he said, looking at Phoebe "and yours too," looking at Michelle.

    “You took a risk too, you know? Not that I blame you.” He said smiling, “I would have done the same.”

    “What we need is a plan, dear, to help her with her Uncle,” Michelle said.

    “Well, I’m not too busy at work. I could take a day off and take Phoebe to see her new place at Lakewood. That way there’s less likelihood of anything happening.”

    Michelle hugged her husband and said, “That makes me feel better, I can stay here and look after our two girls. Maybe I can teach them something that will help them later in life.”

    “Mothering them already?” laughed Bill, “Okay, it’s settled then. Now what’s for dinner? I’m starved.”

    Michelle gave Phoebe that look that said ‘men’ and then laughed, thinking of the incongruity of giving Phoebe, (a former man) that look.

    Phoebe, on the other hand, understood the look, and felt oddly pleased in the fact that Michelle felt she belonged alongside her on the man/woman equation. It was as though there was a sense of joining an exclusive clique or club. It gave her a warm feeling inside, a feeling of acceptance.

    Phoebe helped Michelle in the kitchen, preparing a quick meal while Bill watched over the girls. The two women talked about the inheritance, wondering what sort of place it was, and whether Phoebe was going to live there or sell it.

    Danielle and Tammy had been bored out of their skulls and resorted to watching some shows on the TV. Strangely, they found the cartoon channel took their minds off their predicament and as they got absorbed they would start to giggle at the antics of the characters. At first, this would shock them into silence at the very feminine sounds issuing from their mouths and they would glance at each other, but as time went on, it was as if they had got used to it and soon it didn’t seem to matter. It was as if with the shedding of their adult bodies, they had shed all the cares and responsibilities as well, knowing that in their present form they had escaped the threat of being caught or prosecuted for any past crimes.

    So it was with a sort of release, knowing they were stuck as young girls, they then began to enjoy things without the onus of responsibility and just tried to be the people they appeared outwardly to be. Not knowing the nature of the relationship between the people whose house they now found themselves in and Phoebe, or whether they knew who they had been before. They decided to act as if they had always been girls and when the man had asked their names, they responded with the new names Phoebe had christened them with.

    Bill was quietly amused as he tried to draw the two girls out, asking them their names and what they liked to eat. They didn’t act like men, less that they were now ex-killers he wouldn’t have guessed as they came to him asking for ice cream. He promised them that if they behaved themselves and ate their dinner nicely, then ice cream would be for dessert. Squealing with girlish delight they gave him a quick hug and went back to watching cartoons.

    Bill wandered back into the kitchen to see what the women were doing, satisfied that the two girls were okay. Entering the kitchen and seeing them working and talking together, he smiled, thinking that Phoebe seemed to be adjusting very well to her change. Thinking about his own reactions to becoming female, plus the fact that Phoebe had a good probability of living a full life now, he felt that she would accept being a woman and enjoy living as a female.

    After dinner, Phoebe decided to exercise, so going out in the backyard, she started her Tai Chi, going though all her routines. She becamw so involved in her exercises she didn’t see both Bill and Michelle come out to watch her. The thoughts went though both their minds as they watched the graceful movements of the kata, that she looked extraordinarily beautiful. As Phoebe finished she was surprised and a little embarrassed to hear soft clapping. Turning, she saw both Bill and Michelle smiling at her.

    “Oh God that was beautiful,” Michelle said, awe struck. “I wish I could do that, it seems a graceful way to exercise.”

    “Well I’ll trade you, if you teach me all about makeup and the other necessities that being female entail, and I’ll teach you Tai Chi,” offered Phoebe, smiling at Michelle’s elated expression.

 

Chapter 4

    Next morning, Phoebe awoke feeling great, knowing she had passed the three day limit of the original spray's program. Getting up, she had a shower, luxuriating in the hot water as she cleansed herself. After drying herself and dressing in a green silk robe, she wandered into the kitchen where Michelle had already made breakfast for the two girls, and had started on hers.

    “I knew you’d be along soon when I heard the shower running, hope you like omelette and coffee for breakfast.”

    “Yes, thanks, Michelle. Iit smells wonderful,” she said, sitting down at the table in front of the plate set out. “Are you joining me?”

    Michelle laughed. “Well I had mine already when I got the girls, but I’ll have another cup of coffee.” Sitting down she looked at the two girls as they finished their cereal.

    “Do you girls want anything more to eat? If not, you can watch TV if you like.”

    The girl’s chorus of “No thank you Auntie Michelle,” surprised Phoebe, and when they had run into the living room she said to Michelle.

    “You seemed to have them under control already.”

    “Well when I had to help them dress I had little talk I said that we were considering looking after them until they get old enough to move out. I told them that they wouldn’t want for anything as long as they behaved themselves and learned all I had to teach about being female.”

    “Wow, I thought they would have preferred staying with me, seeing I will be rich.”

    “I think that they are frightened you might try something else on them, especially if they misbehave. I nearly burst out laughing when they said you were a witch.”

    Phoebe grinned ruefully saying, “Yes that was the first thing I could think of to explain the changes. If they knew they could revert back by going to the HB Company I’m sure they wouldn’t be quite so obedient.”

    “Actually, I wouldn’t bet on it being possible anyway,” replied Michelle “I think that it’s probable that these forms are resistant to further alteration by any nanite spray. Mind you, I’m not going to tell them anyway. I don’t want to risk them attempting any sort of experiments. I like them just the way they are.”

    Phoebe looked searchingly at Michelle. “So you still want to adopt them, be it unofficially at least?”

    “Oh yes, they are at a great age. I can start their training, and having adult minds they should be able to remember it. They should be in school, but as I was a teacher, I can do their schooling at home. Anyway, they don’t need it till later, until they need to interact with boys, that is. I hope that by then, they will be comfortable in their new roles.

    They sat there nursing their coffees until Bill surfaced, when Michelle stood up and got his bacon and eggs ready. Bill looked over at Phoebe and asked if she was up to going to view her new property.

    “Oh yes, I can’t wait to see my new house, hopefully it will be a little bigger than my old place.”

    “Well as soon as I finish breakfast, we’ll take my car. Nobody will know it’s us by the car, that’s for sure.” Bill replied between mouthfuls of food.

    Michelle looked at her husband and laughed. “I think I need to remind you we have guests and eating with your mouth full isn’t very polite.”

    Bill had the grace to blush, and apologised to Phoebe, saying, I wasn’t thinking, except with my stomach.”

At that, Phoebe laughed. Don’t worry about it. Remember, I was a man till a few days ago.”

    “I have an idea about further disguising Phoebe,” interrupted Michelle, “I still have that long blonde wig from Halloween. If Phoebe wears it, it may fool anyone watching the property.”

    “Great idea! Why not get her dressed in some of your clothes as well, then we can pretend to be a couple, further confusing the issue.”

    “Okay, just as long as you remember you’re my husband, not hers,” laughed Michelle, looking at Phoebe with mock jealousy.

    Michelle led Phoebe into the bedroom where she started pulling out some clothes. Looking at them, Phoebe realised that with a blonde wig and wearing these clothes, even she wouldn’t recognise herself. Michelle's experienced tips greatly aided Phoebe's dressing. Stepping to the mirror revealed an amazing sight. The reflection there revealed a new person altogether. Then Michelle adjusted the wig, and brushed it into a mature style. This complimented the clothes Michelle had selected. When she added some subdued, but tasteful makeup, Phoebe disappeared entirely.

    “Wow, you look great” Bill enthused, “I think this is going to work.”

    Michelle gave Bill a hug and then turning to Phoebe, gave her the can of HB spray “just in case,” she whispered in her ear. “Look after yourselves now,” she said to them, as they left to get in Bill’s car.

    Driving along East Terrace Avenue they made a right turn into New York Avenue, then driving slowly, they came to a ‘T’ intersection. Turning left along East Lake Street, they marvelled at the expensive looking properties facing out towards Chautauqua Lake.

    “It’s number 41,” Phoebe said, looking at the tag attached to the bunch of keys in her hands.

    “Well it looks like your house isn’t just a house,” replied Bill, as they stopped at number 41.

    “OH MY GOD!” Exclaimed Phoebe, as she looked up the driveway leading to the ‘house.’

    “Exactly my thoughts,” laughed Bill, “I think you’re going to enjoy living here, and is that a boat shed I see? It looks as if it’s attached to the property.”

    “Oh boy, I never imagined something this big, I’m going to get lost in this place,” Phoebe exclaimed in surprise. They drove slowly towards the front entrance, taking in the immaculate gardens and pathways.

    Pulling up at the front door of this mansion like building, Phoebe sat stunned as Bill stepped out and opened the door for her taking her hand like the gentleman he was.

    “Come on my dear,” he offered, as he led her towards the imposing oak door. Just as Phoebe was about to try one of the many keys, the door opened and a young woman in a maids outfit about her age, greeted them. Phoebe was taken aback for a moment, but then she told the woman her name and that she believed this was now her property.

    “Oh yes Miss Wilson, I’m Karen, the maid, although my duties cover more than that… or I was, until now,” she said uncertainly. Opening the door, she bid them welcome, saying she would get the others.

    “Others?” Phoebe queried, feeling rather confused. “What others?”

    “Well there’s Sara the gardener, well she’s more a horticulturist. Catherine, ah… Mrs. Johnson wanted nothing but the best. Then there’s Sandra the butler/driver. Last, but not least is Kim our handy person, who does all the maintenance on the house and vehicles and is a handy sailor. Then there’s Pickles, the cook, that’s not his real name.” She said laughing. “It’s just the nickname we have for him.”

    “There’s four women staying here full time, plus a cook?” Asked Phoebe, in amazement, wondering who was paying them at the moment.

    “Yes, Catherine was all for letting women enter into what would normally be traditionally, a man's job. Right now, the estate is paying for our services until the new owners decide whether to keep us. Please sit down in the Ferguson room, oops! Sorry, here let me show you.” Karen led them into a spacious room with oil paintings lining the walls, gesturing to the sumptuous leather covered chairs. Turning to Bill, she indicated the liqueur cabinet-cum-mini bar saying, "Please make yourself and your wife a drink while I go and get the others.” Turning, she exited the room, leaving them alone before Bill could explain.

,

    Blushing furiously, Bill asked Phoebe what would she like, as he walked behind the bar. Grinning mischievously, she replied in a sexy voice. "I'll have a Gin and Tonic, darling.” almost spoiling the effect with a giggle

    Bill looked at her. Seeing the twinkle in her eyes, decided to play along.

    Pouring out two Gin and Tonics, he brought them back to where she was sitting, then sat beside her on the lounge suite, handing her one of the glasses. Before she could sip it, he entwined their arms, looping them, bringing their faces close to each other as they drank. Bill grinned at her. Suddenly the door opened, and they hastily broke apart both blushing a little as the women and the cook entered the room.

,

    Karen introduced Phoebe and Bill to the rest of the staff, saying they were the new owners of the property. The staff looked nervous, obviously all thinking the same thoughts. ‘Were the new owners going to keep them employed, or was this meeting to be where they get their marching orders.’

    Bill spoke up, saying he was only a friend escorting the real owner, indicating Phoebe.

     Phoebe looked over the staff, seeing a petite raven-haired beauty with a glorious tan. Standing up, she walked over and took her hand. Then, instead of shaking it as she would have done when she was a man, she embraced her.

    “Nice to meet you Sara,” before turning to Sandra, a typical blonde bombshell, saying. “I do hope we’ll get on well with each other.”

    Turning, she walked to stand in front of Kim, another blonde, but with reddish highlights in her hair. She oozed confidence from her statuesque build. She was a perfect 10 in Phoebe’s old standards. Kim started to bring her hand out to shake Phoebe’s, but realised with embarrassment that it have some oil and grease on it. As she started to put it behind her back, Phoebe reached out quickly and grasped it, not worrying about the dirt.

    At last, she turned to the cook, seeing a slightly built young man with a white apron, and a smudge of flour and his face. She smiled and said to him, “I hope to taste the quality of your work soon.”

He blushed and said, It will be my pleasure ma’am,” with a wide friendly grin.

    “Ugh! Please not ma’am, it makes me feel old.” She shuddered.

    “Please listen for a moment,” Phoebe continued, “I have just come into this inheritance, and I would like to continue to maintain the status quo as regards your continued employment. Now I would appreciate a tour of the house and property, and please, use first names. I don’t want to be stiff and formal unless I say otherwise.”

    Phoebe thanked everyone and said they could resume whatever it was they were doing. As the staff filed out, Karen said she would take them around the property immediately, if that would be okay. Phoebe nodded,so Karen started showing them the ‘house.’

    “This is the master bedroom,” Karen said as she entered what to Phoebe, was more like a mistress’s boudoir. The decor was very feminine, done as it was in pink and lilac. Knick knacks were dotted everywhere; in fact, there was nothing masculine about the room at all. Karen saw the expression on Phoebe’s face and said, "She lived alone, never married, but she did have the occasional gentleman staying overnight. I did take the liberty of removing most of her personal belongings and put it in boxes in the other bedroom for sorting out. If you like, we can go though it later.”

    Phoebe looked into the walk-in wardrobe. It was bigger than her bedroom at her other home. A huge vanity lined one wall, with lights ringing the huge mirror. There was a wash basin, and the vanity top was covered in all manner of makeup items. Looking to the other wall, she saw loads of expensive looking gowns in all manner of colours and styles hanging off a long rail.

    “I didn’t move those,” Karen said, “I thought I’d wait to see who would be taking over the place. Some of these are brand new and are very modern.” She sighed, and fingered a gown wistfully. "I wish I could afford to wear these.”

    Phoebe turned to Bill, who had been following her though the house. "Bill, I want to stay here tonight. Can you arrange some moving people to pack up all my belongings at the other place, and have them sent here?”

    “No problem, but you’re sure you want to stay here? What about your Uncle?”

    “I think with everyone here, he won’t try anything, unless he can get me alone.”

    Turning to Karen, she explained her theory about the deaths of her parents, and the possible threat on her own life, from her Uncle. Karen was shocked, and said that they all would protect her, as they had protected Catherine. She explained that all the staff had, as a condition of their employment, undergone varied courses of martial arts. Catherine had been more than a little paranoid about her safety, and wanted people around her that could protect her at any time.

    Bill asked to leave so he could get things moving along, saying to Phoebe that she seemed in good hands. Phoebe hugged him, thanking him for coming with her and said she’d be in contact with Michelle tomorrow.

    Leaving Bill, she continued with her tour. The place was enormous, having a room with an individual en suite for each of the staff. The staff also had their own common room, complete with an adjoining games room. Nearing the rear of the building, Phoebe could smell a delicious aroma wafting though the place. Opening another door following her nose, she came to the kitchen. There, she saw Pickles and Kim in an intimate embrace. Coughing quietly, she grinned, as the pair sprang apart, blushing furiously.

    “I’m very sorry ma’am… er… miss,” spluttered Pickles, “I was just… ”

    “Look no apologies,” Phoebe interrupted, “I’m not an ogre, as long as you do your job properly, there will be no problems. The last thing I want is to interfere with your love life.”

    Kim blushed, and said she was on her break and usually had to pay for her treats (meaning the cookies she had in her hand) with a kiss.

    “Hmmm,” mused Phoebe.“ Will I have to pay too, to taste some of that delicious bread I smell in the oven?”

    Pickles hung his head to hide his embarrassment, and Phoebe guessed that he often got paid in that manner. Pickles suddenly remembering, rushed to the oven to check on his baking, having been absorbed in certain other things. Opening the oven, he slid a bread paddle in under the loaves, bringing out bread with the most tantalising aroma Phoebe had ever smelled.

    “They’ll be too hot for a while, come back in ten minutes and try some then,” Pickles said with a smile. “I’ll not charge my usual fee for it,” he continued.

    Phoebe replied jokingly, that she may pay him anyway, if it tasted anything like it smelled. Looking at Pickles blush, she thought to herself. ‘Strangely, that idea isn’t repugnant to me, to kiss a man. Maybe, I’m accepting this change better than I thought I would.’

    15 minutes later, the tour finished, Phoebe was directed into the dinning room where lunch was being served. Seeing only one place setting, she asked Karen, whose duties seemed to be more than just a maid, where the others were eating.

    “They are in our common room, Miss, that’s where we generally eat.”

    “Hmm, think they’ll mind me coming to eat there too?”

    “You want to eat with us?” Karen seemed taken aback at the thought.

    “Yes I do, I’d like to think of this as more a family than as a split you/me household.”

    Well you’re very welcome to join us. It’s your home now, you can do as you like and we would welcome you to our group, so can get to know you better.”

    “Thank you, it’s just I don’t like to eat alone, and from now on, I would like for all of us to dine together, whether it be in the common room or the formal dinning room.”

    Walking into the common room, Phoebe saw the others were already there. She greeted them and repeated what she had told Karen. Kim, Sara, and Sandra all came up to Phoebe and made her feel welcome by giving her a hug. They showed her where to sit, just as Pickles brought out two large platters. One with the promised fresh bread and another piled high with fresh cookies. On the table were salad items including what looked like and she confirmed by tasting, freshly smoked trout. After having tasted a little of each food on offer, Phoebe leaned back from the table, and holding a mug of freshly brewed coffee, she looked at Pickle and smiled.

    “I do believe I owe you some payment for that magnificent spread.”

    Kim, who was just swallowing some coffee, choked as the other women looking at Pickles embarrassed expression, burst out laughing.

    They told Phoebe, “Pickles hasn’t started that with you already, has he? We only let him get away with it because he’s so cute.” Pickles blushed even darker, mumbling something about not having had any complaints, at which, everyone giggled. Coming to a sudden decision, partly born of curiosity, and partly because she wanted to see how she would feel about it, Phoebe walked over to Pickles and kissed him right on the mouth. The chorus of WOohoOW ‘s from the other girls made them both blush, but Phoebe did find out a couple of things. First, that Pickles was a great kisser, and second, being kissed by a man made her want to experiment more. The feelings that had run though her body had made her shiver in delight.

    “Well? What’s the verdict? Does he deserve being paid?” Giggled, Sandra.

    “Hmm, I think I’ll reserve judgement on that for a while,” said Phoebe, trying to show that it meant nothing to her.

    The crestfallen expression on Pickles' face, that he hadn’t impressed her, made the others laugh, and relenting, Phoebe joined in. Pickles tried to show nonchalance, but couldn’t hold it long as the girls all came and gave him a quick peck on the cheeks.

    As Pickles excused himself, saying he needed to clear things away and start preparations for the evening meal, Phoebe asked the rest of the girls if they would stay a moment.

    “I have an idea, I need to sort out some of Catherine’s clothes and I wondered if you would care to help me? I was thinking of sharing them with you if you wanted them and they fit.”

    The glad cry’s of, “Oh yes” and, “You bet,” from the girls was enough to prompt a mass exodus to the main bedroom. There, they started pulling things off the racks and doing an impromptu fashion show, holding assorted gowns up against themselves while admiring their reflections in the mirror.

    Phoebe wasn’t left out of this as they gathered round her with particular outfits, saying this would look great on her, or this would go with her colouring.

     Suddenly realising she was still wearing the wig, she hushed them, saying she wasn’t a blonde. Pulling off the wig, she gave them the explanation that her Uncle was after the inheritance. After their cries of surprise and disgust about what a dirt-bag the Uncle was, Sara spoke up saying she wasn’t surprised. Apparently, he had tried to enlist her help with a bribe when he had visited, trying to get inside information on Catherine's personal life. She had refused and had promptly told Catherine, who had shown him the door, and told him he would never own this property.

    Getting back to the matters in hand, she let them advise her on what looked good and what didn’t, saying she wasn’t used to wearing such expensive clothes. Finally, everyone had a pile of clothes in front of them which each had picked out.

    Then Phoebe said, “Okay, you can have those as long as you do a fashion show for me.” The girls looked at each other for a moment then gathered together whispering. Breaking apart, they turned to her with a broad grin saying, "Okay, we will accept your gracious offer, but only if we all do a fashion show.”

    Phoebe looked at their determined faces and sighed. “All right, you win, but you’ll have to help me.”

    Half an hour later when Phoebe looked in the mirror, she was amazed at what new clothes and some expertly applied makeup could do. She looked sophisticated and glamorous and had she been able to look at herself from the male perspective she knew she would have been as hard as a steel bar. Now all she could feel was a sense of pride that this was her body now, and that looking nice made her happy. Looking at her image in the mirror, Phoebe knew her days of becoming sexually excited over the female form were over. Instead, she found herself thinking of that kiss with Pickles and how it might be fun to find out exactly what a woman felt when she eventually decided to have sex with a man.

    Eventually, when Phoebe said she was thirsty, Karen excused herself saying, she would get afternoon tea. Kim then came up with an idea.

    “Why not have a cruise on the lake and have afternoon tea on the boat"?”

    Phoebe said, “Excellent idea. You will join me, of course?”

    Kim went down to the boat to fire it up, ready for everyone to board her. Sarah went down to see Karen and tell her of the change in plans, while Sara helped Phoebe into some more suitable attire.

    Walking down to the boat shed with Sara, Phoebe asked how big the property was.

    “Well we are on the end of this road and the property extends from there another 300 yards further along and all the way to the water's edge, and totals about 5 acres. Those fruit trees you see there are the far boundary and there’s a sizeable garden, which gives us a lot of our fresh veggies. We even have… um, I mean, you have a glass house, where that tomato and lettuce we had at lunch, came from.

    “Wow, I certainly have got a great place here. This boat I have ... will it take all of us okay?”

    Sara laughed. “It’s a bit of a squeeze, but we’ll manage, it has a name, the boat I mean, it’s called the ‘Dreadnought,’ it was named after a type of British fighting ship.”

    As they neared the boat shed, Phoebe was surprised at its size. She noted that it went a fair way into the water and had piles that supported the whole thing. A door at the shore allowed access to the interior. Entering the shed, she looked up in shock, stopping so abruptly that Sara bumped into her. The boat was huge. She guessed it at being around 40 foot long. A sleek vessel of an unusual design in white with blue trim, it filled the shed and she could hear the low-throated sound of an engine that reminded her of the race cars at Daytona.

    A cheery hail from above her made her glance up. Kim’s grinning face was sticking out of the bridge. “WELCOME ABOARD,” she yelled down at her.

    Phoebe turned on Sara, looking at her grinning face.

    “You, you,” she spluttered. “Yes it will be a squeeze, my foot.” She lightly punched Sara on the shoulder for her deception, then hugged her, saying, “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

 

Chapter 5

    “Don’t cry, you’ll ruin your makeup,” Sara responded, hugging back.

    Climbing aboard, Phoebe went on another tour, starting at the engine room. Kim was very proud of her baby as she called it, a supercharged V12 Rolls Royce Merlin aircraft engine, nestled in an immaculate engine bay.

    “You see Catherine got more and more paranoid about her safety, and wanted to be able to get from one place to the other as fast as she could, if need be,” Kim explained.

    “I wonder if my Uncle was after the estate before her death?” Mused Phoebe thoughtfully.

    “It would explain a few things she did then, if true,” answered Kim. Then sighing a little, she patted the engine lovingly.

    “I wish I could get to open her up to full throttle more often. Catherine used to like going out for a spin, but usually only at a modest rate of knots. It’s been modified from the original design, it has a secret weapon, Kim added cryptically.

    “Well how about now, I’d like to see her put though her paces.”

    “YOU mean that,” exclaimed Kim excitedly, she blushed and apologised, saying, “Sorry I feel so excited.”

    “Me too, laughed,” Phoebe. “Come on, let’s see what’s holding the others up.” Climbing back up to the main deck they saw both Karen and Sandra bringing loaded trays of food. Pickles, was trailing behind carrying a cooler, ogling the girls behinds as they walked down the path. Phoebe smiled, as she knew just what he was thinking, the randy devil.

    Helping get the food aboard, Phoebe could smell fresh baking coming from the covered trays and when Pickles arrived he handed her the cooler, saying, the bottles were chilled and didn’t need to be placed in the boats fridge. Looking up at her he commented on her hair, saying he liked blondes, but preferred black hair, which got him a dirty look from Kim until he smiled back at her indicating he was just pulling her leg.

    Kim pretended to be hurt and walked off towards the stern, where she started casting off the mooring lines. Phoebe watched this by play between them and giggled, getting a wry smile from Pickles.

    ‘I’m going to learn a lot from these two,’ thought Phoebe. ‘It should be fun watching them both.’

    At last everyone was aboard, bar Pickles, as he said, “Someone has to get dinner ready.”

    As Kim throttled up the engine and she began manoeuvring the boat astern, the boat-shed doors started opening, “Remote control” Kim said, when asked.

    As the boat gathered speed, Kim expertly reversed directions and headed out on the lake. As the speed built up the engine throbbed with the throaty roar of bridled power, Kim yelled out to Phoebe, asking her, if she wanted to navigate.

    “Where are we heading?” Phoebe yelled back, grinning like a maniac as she took the helm.

    Kim shrugged and waved her hand vaguely in the direction of open water then grinned, as she went below to tinker with her baby.

    After about 5 minutes Phoebe pulled the throttle back till the boat was dead in the water, gently rocking in the backwash. Going back to where the others had arranged the food, she sat as Kim stuck her head out asking if the picnic had started.

    Karen laughed, saying, “Kim had a 6th sense whenever food was ready.”

    Kim blushed, muttering something about needing refuelling because she burnt it off, working so hard.

    Sitting round the cabin while the boat drifted in the light breeze, they ate scones and muffins, while drinking chilled white wine. Phoebe was curious about the lake, asking if there were any fish in it. Sandra looked at Kim and grinned,

     “Kim caught the Trout we had at lunch, from the lake,” she said.

    “Yes, there’s Bass and lots of other varieties,” said Kim smiling.

    “I love fishing too, so tell me next time you go,” Phoebe mumbled, with a mouthful of scone.

    Finishing, they started putting things away, while Kim went back and fired up the motor. Just as Phoebe bent down to get her bag, she heard a loud splat and looking up she saw a hole in the bulkhead where her head had been moments before. Puzzled, she had just turned to mention it as something tugged at her hair and she heard a tinkle as glass broke behind her. She ducked instinctively and spotted the remains of the barometer on the wall.

    Yelling out that someone was shooting at her, she ran forward to where Kim was standing near the bridge.

    “Move it,” she shouted, crouching down out of sight.

    Kim opened the throttle to full and the boat accelerated so rapidly, the girls back in the cabin were thrown off balance.

    “Can you see anyone who might be shooting at us?” inquired Phoebe.

    “Well, there’s a craft behind us with three guys in it,” replied Kim. “It’s coming after us.”

    “Can we out run it?”

    “It’s one of Jose’s hire boats. We should be able to keep ahead of it, as long as they don’t keep shooting at us. Here are a pair of binoculars, check them out.”

    Grabbing them, Phoebe managed to hold them steady long enough to focus them on the following craft.

    “It’s him, and one of the others has a rifle with him.” Phoebe exclaimed.

    “Your Uncle?” Queried Kim.

    “Yes, the bastards trying to kill me, he must be really desperate to try this.”

    “I have an idea,” said Kim, as she swung the boat around in a sharp turn and started heading for the other craft. As they began heading towards the smaller boat, it slowed as if uncertain of their intentions, but as it became clear that they were intent on ramming them, they turned tail and tried running away from them.

    Kim laughed. “Not so high and mighty now, are we? Well you’re not getting away that easily.” As she pulled on another lever, Phoebe heard a low thrumming sound and the boat started to lift upwards and the sound of the bow wave changed.

    “What’s happening?” Phoebe asked as she felt the boat increase its speed.

    “Our secret weapon, hydrofoils, with them, we can overhaul that boat in minutes.”

    Looking at the fleeing boat with her Uncle on board, she could see the gap closing, then suddenly, she saw a puff of blue smoke come from the overtaxed outboard motor and the boat slowed dramatically.

    Kim chortled in glee, “I’ve told Jose a hundred times to service those motors properly.” The gap closed fast and Phoebe could see the frightened faces of those aboard, as they loomed nearer. When they were only 10 yards apart the men, seeing death advancing, jumped overboard swimming frantically away.

    Kim expertly judged the distance between them, turning away at the last possible moment, there was a slight bump as the edge of the hydrofoil wing just grazed the boat ripping a gash along one side. As Kim turned and slowed, retracting the hydrofoils back into the hull. The small boat started to sink, only the built in flotation devices kept it from disappearing under the water.

    Kim slowly moved the boat forward towards the men, who by now, were widely separated, Phoebe pointed to one of them.

    “That one, we need to bring him aboard, leave the others, they can swim back to their boat.”

    Kim inched the vessel forward until Phoebe, with the help of the other girls, managed to hook onto the clothing of her Uncle with a boat hook, hauling him towards the stern so he could clamber aboard.

    Wet, cold, and bedraggled, he spluttered indignantly.

    “Let me go this instant, or you’ll hear from my lawyers and I’ll sue you for everything you have.”

    “Oh shut up you blustering old fart,” Phoebe returned, just as vehemently. “We know you tried to have me killed as you did my parents. Now we find you shooting at me, I think I have every reason to punish you myself.”

    Hauling him below decks they found some ropes and tied him securely then gagged him for good measure. Phoebe asked Kim if she had a phone on board.

    “Yes, go into the forward cabin, there’s a cell phone there and you can have some privacy,” was her reply.

    “Hi, Michelle, it’s Phoebe… Can you come over to my house tonight for dinner? Oh, and I want you to pick up something for me first… make sure Bill comes.”

    “Oh! You have news about the girl’s. Hmm, Interesting, we’ll discuss it later.”

    “Yes, I have my Uncle here. No, he’s all tied up at the moment, ha ha. Okay, here’s what I want you to get me.”

    Phoebe continued speaking for a few minutes then put the phone down with a satisfied grin on her face.

    On the way back, Phoebe asked everyone for their silence on the matter with her Uncle, saying she had a plan to get him out of their hair permanently.

    “You’re not going to kill him are you?” Asked a worried looking Karen.

    “No, I’m not letting him off that easily,” replied Phoebe cryptically. “He’s going to learn a lesson that will last a life time. One that is rather different from his present one,” she added, under her breath. “Remember your own safety depends on my plan succeeding, if he gets away, your own lives could be in peril. I’m sure he wouldn’t stop at killing you, to get at me.”

    Kim informed them, that she had radioed the plight of the others in the craft to the police, saying she was unable to affect a rescue as they were experiencing problems of their own. And that she had radioed the house for Pickles to meet them on their arrival.

    Phoebe asked if that wouldn’t cause problems if the police wanted to verify her claims.

    Kim grinned, saying, “As soon as we dock, the engine will get overhauled and there would be no questions she couldn’t handle, should the need arise.”

    Phoebe hugged her in thanks and said she would have dinner sent down to her with someone extra… something extra she corrected, laughing at her slip of the tongue.

    Kim laughed with her, knowing exactly what she meant. Phoebe felt very happy at this feeling of camaraderie between them, thinking. ‘I’m going to love living this life.’

    Pickles met them when they docked, expressing concern over the closeness of the shooting. He took her Uncle back up to the house, and secured him into a storage locker in the basement. Arriving back upstairs in time to meet Michelle and the girl’s, who’d arrived with Bill. Introductions over, dinner was served and conversation ceased as they started eating another marvellous meal. Pickles excused himself, saying he would take his and Kim’s meal to have in the boat.

    The meal over, Phoebe got back to business, asking if she and Michelle could speak alone with Bill. Moving into the main living room, leaving the girls with Karen, Phoebe asked Michelle what she meant on the phone.

    “Well, it seems there have been some mental changes with them,” replied Michelle.

    “Oh! I thought the nanites were not supposed to be able to do that,” said a surprised Phoebe.

    “Normally they can’t, but remember these are normal nanites anymore.”

    “So what changes have there been.”

    “They seem to be acting more childlike, more like the girls they physically are, certainly not like men, anyway. I have a theory that combined with the altered nanites, their brains are becoming more physically childlike and the extra knowledge they have is being slowly unwritten, mainly memories, I quizzed them and it seems that they are losing most of their old memories. Their intelligence isn’t affected and they seem to be quite happy. Actually, I think in some ways they are doing it to themselves.”

    “What do you mean?” Asked a curious Phoebe.

    “It’s as if, their brains can’t store all their old memories, being mostly unformed yet, as would most 5 year old brains. They are choosing to rid themselves of anything that conflicts with their changed bodies, so in fact, they will become girls, retaining only memories that are suitable with being happy in their bodies. They still know who they were, but accept who they are now. The trauma of becoming girls seems to be fading away.”

    “Well that will probably be best for them in the long run,” Phoebe said looking at Michelle. “Oh no.”

    “What’s wrong, Phoebe? Why the worried look?”

    “I need to ask them something that’s been on my mind, I need to find the original Phoebe’s body. Not only do I owe her so much, but it would complicate things if her body showed up somewhere.”

    “Let me do it then, I have their trust and I think we are bonding together with a mother daughter relationship.”

    “That’s great news. Okay, you do that while Bill and I take care of my Uncle. Have you got those items I asked for?”

    “Yes they’re in the package by the front door, Bill? Will you get them for Phoebe, while I question the girls.”

    In the basement a few minutes later, a strange scene was going on.

    Bill, having released a struggling, angry man, was stripping him of his clothing, ignoring the protests and curses. Finally, stripped, he stood shivering looking at Phoebe in undisguised fury.

    “Now stand still, while I release you, if you much as move an inch I’ll use this,” Bill said, brandishing a meat cleaver.

    Phoebe got out her can of HB spray, and used it all up on her Uncle’s body, while he cursed. Then bringing out the selected items, she slowly began the job of dressing her Uncle. His outburst of laughter as her intentions of trying to get them on his body appeared to be ludicrous, changed to shocked silence as his body began to shrink. Then screams of outright disbelief turned to plea’s of mercy and then, as he continued to change, his voice started to change in pitch as well. Finally, only sobbing was heard as the changes reached the final step.

    Sometime later that evening, a thunderous knocking on the front door announced the arrival of the expected police. After being invited in they, said that because of a serious complaint, they needed to search the house.

    “What are you looking for officer…um… Sergeant McTavish?” Phoebe inquired, looking at his badge.

    “We have reason to believe you have Mr Dobson in your house under duress. Now we don’t have a search warrant at this short notice. But if you object to our search we will leave, keeping a man outside while we get one.”

    “Please, search away, we have nothing to hide, but I’ll tell you now, we have no one of that name here. Please look around. Karen will show you around if you like.”

     “That’s okay I’d rather you assembled your staff here so we can question them while we search your property.”

    Gathering in the living room, Michelle walked out cradling a baby in a pink sleeper and wrapped in a blanket, a bottle of formula held tightly in the baby’s mouth. As the baby wriggled and tried to make itself heard, it kept choking on the milk Michelle was feeding her and as the milk dribbled out of her mouth, a solicitous Michelle cooed at her. She asked the officer in charge if she could leave, as she needed to put Linda to bed.

    Getting the okay, she whispered in Phoebe’s ear for a moment, then bid everyone good night. Bill said he would be back tomorrow, and would help her on that chore she wanted done.

    After they left, the police came back from their fruitless search and started questioning the staff. Finding that all their stories matched about being shot at, then fleeing from the pursuing craft. Apologising for troubling them, they said they would investigate the shootings. After retrieving one of the bullets from the bulkhead, the police then left.

    Looking round at everyone and they way they had stuck by her, Phoebe came to a decision, gathering them together she told them everything about her, from finding the can, till now.

    Waiting anxiously for their reactions, she was surprised when they gathered her into a group hug,

    “Your secret is safe with us, we need you to stay here with us. We would have to leave this place if you weren’t here to take over.”

    “I can’t get over the fact that your Uncle is now a baby girl,” Pickles said.

    “Well, if what Michelle said about the girls is true, then soon, he WILL be just that,” laughed Phoebe.

    Karen grinned, “It’s only what he deserved, from a creep to a darling little baby, how appropriate.”

    Pickles looked at Phoebe in a new light. Knowing that she had once been a man, he couldn’t see anything about her that seemed masculine.

    “I can’t believe I kissed an ex man,” he said, with a wry grin.

    “What about me? I kissed a man, and found I liked it,” Phoebe replied, with an answering grin.

    Kim stood up and said, “Well I’m off to put my baby back together, we are going to need her tomorrow.”

    Sandra sighed, “I suppose Michelle is going to keep Linda.”

    “I don’t know, why do you ask? Don’t tell me you want her?” Laughed Phoebe.

    “I like the idea of raising her, and Michelle has her hands full with the other girls,” replied Sandra, wistfully.

    “I’ll talk to Michelle, but we had better wait till things settle down and we get this other business over with,” Phoebe continued.

 

Chapter 6

    The next morning, Bill arrived just after breakfast, and, smelling the aroma of freshly baked bread muffins, he cajoled Pickles into getting two for him, then with a mouthful of food, mumbled about getting a move on.

    Karen told them that the gear they needed had already been stowed on board the boat. Phoebe and Pickles walked with Bill down to the boat shed showing him the property on the way. He was duly impressed and asked if they could visit again sometime.

    Setting off in the boat heading for Jamestown it was a sombre crew, each of them thinking ahead to the gruesome task before them. Kim asked Phoebe to join her as she navigated her way eastwards, saying she wanted the company. The two men stayed below talking.

    Kim, ever curious, asked Phoebe, “What did she think of becoming a female and how did the two compare?”

    “Kim, it’s really hard to explain, but so far it has been great, I mean I get chased by two men then threatened with death and shot at and now I’m looking for a dead body.”

    She laughed. “No seriously, it’s been a blast, dying as a man is nothing compared with living a healthy life with friends like you and to top it off I’m rich.”

    Kim giggled. “You know what I mean, stop evading the question, is it better being female?”

    “Well... both have their good points, but I do like the way my skin feels when I’m in the shower especially my nipples when the spray hits them. I haven’t had sex yet for the simple reason I haven’t had time to think about it, but when I kissed Pickles, it did something to me that I never felt as a man. It sent shivers all though my body and I felt like I wanted to melt into his embrace.”

    “Yes, he has that effect on all the female staff,” Kim giggled.

    So do you think you’ll be having an active sex life with all that entails?”

    “I think so, when I get settled and learn more of the female graces including makeup. Then I’ll just need to find someone.”

    “Karen is a beautician, it was one of the many skills she has that Catherine hired her for. She will teach you all you need to know.

    “Talking about finding someone... hmm... Sandra has a brother... I think his name is Keith.”

    “Owwwh! What did you do that for?” Kim protested, as Phoebe kicked her gently in the shins, looking at her with a pained expression.

    Laughing at Kim’s hurt expression, she said.

    “I’m barely a week old in this body and already you’re trying to play the match maker.”

    Kim grinned ruefully, “Well you can’t blame a girl for trying.”

    Phoebe fell silent then, thinking of her future. She owed so much to the murdered girl. The least she could do was give her a proper burial and have words spoken over her so her soul could find some peace.

    Soon they were wending their way up the river mouth, arriving at the jetty by the boat ramp. Tying up at the jetty adjoining it, they moored

    “So this is where they dumped the body,” muttered Kim.

    Bill came up to them, saying, “At least the waters cold at this time of year. Her body should be in good condition even after almost week in the water.”

    Phoebe shuddered, knowing that beneath her, only a few feet away, lay her twin. Talk about someone walking on your grave.

    “Why don’t you girls go into town while we do our thing, take the cellphone and we’ll call you when we have her secured.”

    “Alright,” agreed Kim, anxious to be away from this scene.

    “Come on, Phoebe, we can browse though some fashion boutiques.” Phoebe although not sure whether she was up to buying women’s clothing, decided it was better than staying here and watching the men retrieve a dead look-alike. So gathering her handbag she stepped on to the jetty and followed Kim.

    Hailing a passing cab, they arrived in the centre of Jamestown at 10.30 in the morning. Spotting a nice cafe Phoebe said she was thirsty, and needed a coffee. Kim laughed, and said these delaying tactics won’t stop her for long. She was determined to get Phoebe into a dress shop if she had to drag her screaming.

    Phoebe sighed, and said, “You can see right though me. I’m okay getting dressed in the clothes that I have at the moment, I didn’t buy those, but the thought of trying on clothes in a shop and looking at lingerie with the thought that I’ll be the one wearing it, scares me.”

    “You never shopped with a girl friend? Never picked out lingerie for gifts?” asked Kim with surprise.

    “No, never. I didn’t have a girlfriend as such at least none that I went shopping with, just casual friends. When my mom used to shop when I was little and she dragged me though the women’s clothing shops I was too embarrassed to do more than look. And when I did, I never really looked at anything for long in case someone thought I was interested in it.

    “You poor girl,” Kim chortled, “Think of what you’ve been missing all these years. Well never mind, I’ll hold your hand and you’ll enjoy yourself, I guarantee it.”

    Phoebe looked at Kim with a somewhat doubtful expression on her face, but decided to try and do her best to overcome the feeling she was the lamb being lead to the slaughter.

    After coffee and a sandwich they both needed to go to the toilet plus touch up their lipstick. As they stood in front of the mirror after doing their business, Phoebe asked Kim.

    “Does it get any easier putting on makeup?”

    “Well I don’t use a lot while I’m working, only when I’m going out on a date. I guess it becomes automatic for my general stuff. I only need to think a bit when I’m after a certain look or co-ordinating it with what I’m wearing.”

     “Don’t worry, you’ll soon pick it up. You did say you were good at artistic design, think of it in those terms.”

    “I’m glad I have you and the rest of the girls to help me when I need it,” replied Phoebe.

    “Never be afraid to ask any of us for help.”

     Finishing in the ladies room, they went back to the table and opened up their handbags in preparation for leaving. Kim started getting out her purse.

    “My treat,” said Phoebe quickly getting her own purse out and leaving the tip on the table.

    Kim quickly had Phoebe into the nearest shop and led her to racks of dresses, saying.

    “We’ll start off with the easy stuff and work our way back to the lingerie section, maybe by then you’ll have got over your shyness.”

    Phoebe stood there looking at the bewildering array of dresses in all many of styles and colours.

    “They all look great to me, but I wouldn’t know what to pick out,” she murmured.

    So began an hour of discussion of what women wore to different functions and the ins and outs of colour matching and the mysteries of what should show and what to conceal. Phoebe found she had ended up with three gowns two casual sundresses, several skirts and had tried on over twenty others while Kim had explained their various merits.

    Next came the lingerie, Phoebe by this time felt not so much of an intruder, she felt not as conspicuous, as all the women there either ignored her, being occupied with their own shopping or helpful like the shop assistants, giving advice or saying that something looked particularly nice.

    She felt odd when looking at bras and panties when holding then up against her, knowing that she could wear these without any one thinking she was weird. There seemed to be as many styles and colours and many different fabrics used. One thing did strike her, was the fact that they felt nice. In the past, as a male, he had mainly worn cotton /wool or nylon or blends of the three. Now there was a myriad of fabric’s soft and sensuous from satins to silks, velvets to all the many synthetics.

    When she had tried on the gowns, the sensations from their fabrics felt wonderful almost orgasmic.

    She was starting to enjoy herself, making jokes with Kim. Saying wouldn’t Pickles eyes pop if he could see them now. Kim laughed throwing a rolled up satin panty at Phoebe’s head. As she dodged the pink missile it hit a gentleman who was passing behind her with his wife. He stopped, picking them up then with a strange expression he said.

    “I think these are for you.”

    Phoebe felt herself blushing furiously as she took them from him.

    “They really do so suit you,” The man continued with a twinkle in his eye, then moving after his wife who was standing waiting, looking at him with a baleful eye.

    Phoebe turned back towards Kim trying to suppress a giggle that just wanted to get out. As she looked at Kim, her face a picture of innocence, she burst forth with it. Kim started laughing with her and the pair hugged each other, tears running from their eyes.

    “Did you see the expression on the wife’s face,” giggled Kim. “I thought she was going to say something to him.”

    “Poor man, he was only being nice,” burbled Phoebe, collecting herself together.

    “Well, did you enjoy shopping? I noticed you had your eyes full looking at the half naked women in the changing rooms.”

    “Funnily enough I did, and looking at those half naked women as you put it, told me something important,” returned Phoebe.

    “Oh, what was that?” Asked a curious Kim.

    “Well, I thought at first I’d be embarrassed, then feel like a perv, but that didn’t happen. At first they seemed just like me...”

    “Silly, they are just like you,” laughed Kim.

    “No not that, I meant it just seemed natural to be among them like a group of friends, all polite and friendly. Then as I looked at their bodies I found myself comparing them against mine, seeing if I measured up. I never felt any sexual feelings towards them, Why is that?”

    “Hmmm, I think you’re destined to have sexual relations with the male half of the population,” said Kim thoughtfully. “It looks like your days of lusting after women are over,” grinned Kim.

    Phoebe sighed, “I can’t see it, but I guess you’re right, I really felt something when Pickles kissed me.”

    “When Pickles kissed YOU, ha ha from where I sat I’d say it was the other way around.”

    Phoebe blushed, “It was just a spur of the moment thing.”

    “Yeah right, pull the other one,” Kim grinned, “It has bells on it, admit it, you were attracted to him.”

    “Well… yes alright, I was attracted, does that make me gay?” Phoebe asked worriedly.

    “Not from where I’m standing, in fact I’d say you were a normal hormone driven female.” If what Michelle said is true then you have a female brain, only your memories and attitudes remain male, she said that the influence of the hormones from your body should change your sexual orientation. How fast that might happen depends on how well you accept it. Your brain will provide all the emotional needs of the body. If the original body was heterosexual then it will follow that you will be too.”

    Phoebe sighed, “Well when you have been as close to dying as I was, this is heaven. To be able too have a full sex life again even if it will be with a male seems a minor detail. At least I’ll be able to find out the answer to the age old question, which way is best, as a male or as a female.

    Kim looked at her with a speculative eye. “When you do find out, I want to be the first to know.”

    Without thinking, Phoebe said “Yes okay.” Then as she realised what she had agreed to, she looked at Kim with surprise. “Did I just agree to tell you when I have sex with a man?”

    Kim looked innocently away, “Umm, yes.”

    “Okay, you’re on,” laughed Phoebe, at which Kim smiled back and began hugging her.

    “First rule, girlfriends tell all.”

    “Okay then, tell me then what it feels like.”

    “Later.”

    “Hmm.”

    “I promise,”

    “Hmm.”

    “Had enough?”

    “Huh?”

    “Shopping, had enough?”

    “Oh right… yes for now, but I will want to buy you something first. For all the help you’ve given me.” Phoebe replied, her mind still full of thoughts of sex with men.

    “I’ll take a rain check on that, we need to get this stuff back to the boat and see how the men are doing.”

    “Hey let’s buy something for lunch for all of us,” begged Phoebe.

    Kim looked at her. “You’re worse than somebody else I know, always thinking of your stomach.” The twinkle in her eyes belying the reprimand.

    “Oh, who?” Queried Phoebe.

    “Just a friend I have on the Internet.”

    “A bit of a pig is he?” rejoined Phoebe, laughing a little.

    “She actually, no it’s just every time I log, on she seems to be having a meal.”

    “Well I like nice food and just recently I’ve developed an appreciation for good food, especially after what I had to go though.” Phoebe went quiet as they walked along the street, thinking of the times looking in bins for scraps of food.

    Passing a bakery they smelled fresh bread wafting out the doors of the shop. As one they stopped, looked at each other, the thought of each clearly written on their faces.

    Entering, they proceeded to buy a loaf of crusty bread along with four fresh cream filled doughnuts, the jam was oozing out. Kim licked her lips, saying she just felt herself put on ten pounds.

    Next stop was a deli where they purchased some freshly sliced ham. Hailing a cab they bundled everything in, telling the driver the destination.

    Arriving at the jetty, they scrambled out, clutching the results of their shopping binge. Hearing a shout they saw Pickles walking to wards them indicating they stay in that spot. As he came up to them he asked for the bags saying he would carry them. Instead Kim handed him the food saying, “Get started on that, we can handle a few bags,” with a wink to Phoebe.

    Phoebe asked if there was any progress, but Pickles just said, they would fill them in after lunch.

    Bill, when he saw them asked. “What’s that nice smell?”

    “Lunch,” chorused the girls.

    “Great, I’m starved,” he replied.

    Lunch was rather subdued, nobody spoke much, the men were obviously keeping something from the girls, but Phoebe didn’t press them for details. It was plain they weren’t going to say anything until lunch was over.

    When things were cleared away and the girls had refreshed their lipstick, Phoebe finally broached the subject.

    “Well what did you find?”

    “You sure you want to hear?” Replied Bill.

    “No, but I can’t hide from it, give it to us straight.”

    “Okay, we found her. Using the grapple though the live bait well,” Pickles said quietly, looking for signs of distress on Phoebe’s face.

    “We opened the bottom door like Kim suggested which gave us a clear route though to the lake floor and dropped our grapple though it. Luckily we only had to move once before we found her. No one from the outside could see what we were doing as we closed the top hatch and worked in the well itself.”

    “Where is she now?” Inquired Phoebe.

    Still in the well, but I took the ropes off her and wrapped a blanket round the body,” Bill replied.

    “I must see her, I owe her that,” Phoebe insisted.

    “No, not yet wait till we get back to the boat shed where can ensure a little privacy and let us clean her up a bit,” Bill pleaded.

    “Alright, please be gentle with her, she’s been abused enough.”

    “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of things.”

    Phoebe surprised Kim with a suggestion that they continue shopping while the men pilot the boat home. At Kim’s look, Phoebe said she didn’t want to stay aboard with her twin being so close.

    “It feel’s weird knowing she’s so close I owe her everything, but it’s not just a dead person, it’s me.”

    Kim said she understood and gave her a gentle hug, saying, “Let’s go. Pickles knows how to handle the boat so he will be okay.”

    Telling the guys they would see them later, they left, catching another cab into town.

    “We have two hours before we need to go back,” Kim calculated. “What with the speed restrictions going out to the lake and then the time to prepare the body. So where do you want to go?”

    “Please anywhere, I don’t mind, remember that rain check? Well the offers still open.”

    Kim laughed. “Okay, but I’ll warn you it won’t be cheap.”

    “Hmm, I think I can cover it,” Phoebe grinned. “Oh, can you help me pick out something for the others too. I wouldn’t want them feeling left out.”

    Two and a half, hours later, two tired shoppers hailed a cab for the ride home. On arrival, there seemed to be a hive of activity about the house. Plonking down on the lounge suite, Phoebe kicked of her shoes and started rubbing her toes. Kim smiled at her then grabbed the bags and took them away to their respective bedrooms. Phoebe smiled her thanks as she massaged her aching feet. ‘It wasn’t that the shoes didn’t fit,’ she thought, just her muscles were unused to putting most of her weight on the balls of her feet. Looking at the offending heels, she wondered why shoes that looked so great could make your feet so sore.

    Sandra came in with a gin and tonic for Phoebe saying she might need it to help her unwind a bit.

    Phoebe thanked her and asked, what was happening.

    “Well, Sara is making a lovely wreath from the flowers she’s grown. Karen is touching up ‘Phoebe’s’ appearance for you, and the others have sewn up a burial bag from some heavy canvas. I’ll call when we are ready, okay?”

    Finishing her drink, Phoebe went into her bedroom and finding some suitable paper, started wrapping the gifts she had bought for the staff. A knock on the door announced the arrival of Sandra, who, on entering, told Phoebe that everything was ready for the burial.

    Phoebe sighed, then got up walking over to her wardrobe to find some suitable clothing. Getting dressed in a traditional LBD with the help of Sandra, Phoebe sighed, thinking about what was about to happen. Looking in the mirror, she looked very elegant in the black dress even if it was a little provocative. Sandra handed her a black scarf and helped her arrange it around her head and hair. Looking for suitable footwear, she selected some black sling backs with a low heel and with Sandra helping her do her makeup she was ready.

    As everyone gathered by the boat shed, Phoebe could feel the tension. Everyone was looking at her, knowing that she had asked to see her dead twin and wondering how she would handle it. She climbed on board the boat where at the stern there lay a shroud-covered form. Bill was there looking at her, as she approached.

    “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

    “YES,” she said, walking slowly towards the body.

    As she stood beside the body, she watched as Bill drew the cloth away from her twin’s face.

    Looking down she saw, strangely, considering the manner in which she was killed, a relatively peaceful looking face. Karen’s work was evident as the cosmetics applied to her face covered the ravages from the water, and it gave her face a look, that almost seemed as if she was just asleep. Lipstick and the perfume that was from ‘Phoebe’s’ own collection had been added. Feeling as if she was looking in a mirror Phoebe got a feeling of ineffable sadness. This person didn’t deserve this fate. She should have been standing in her place with this beautiful house and living the good life. Bending down she whispered in ‘Phoebes’ ear,

    “I promise you I will try to live life as you would have wanted it for yourself. Rest in peace my sister, you have given me the gift of life and for that I will always love you. Go in peace, your death has been avenged in a manner I hope you approve of.” As Phoebe stood up, her eyes filled with tears.

    Turning she walked straight into Bill’s gentle embrace and sobbed. Bill led her to the others who had stood further away respecting her right to be alone with her sister/twin. They gathered her into their arms and let her weep quietly, while Bill went back to the body to make the final preparations.

    Kim reluctantly broke free from the group hug and started the boat up. Slowly, she manoeuvred it out of the boathouse and started cruising out towards the middle of the lake.

    Using the sonar equipment fitted to the boat as a guide, Kim located a spot she knew was the deepest in the lake. Cutting the motor, she anchored and then went back to the rest of the group. As they waited till twilight they drank a toast to ‘Phoebe.’ Bill and Pickles had placed the covered form on a ply wood sheet. Gathering round the body, they listened quietly as Kim got out her bible and spoke a passage from it, which brought forth a few tears and sniffles. As the last rites were finished, Bill lifted the end of the board and the weighted body slid into the water with a soft splash and sank out of sight in seconds.

    Sara threw the lovely wreath into the water where it floated bobbing gently in the calm water.

    Returning, the mood lightened as if the burden of ‘Phoebe’s’ burial had lifted, and thoughts of the future were once again on the minds of those on the boat. Kim called Phoebe up to the wheel where she was navigating by the GPS and looking for the beacon on top of the boat shed.

    “How are you doing?” she asked, as Phoebe came up to her.

    “I’m okay, it was very upsetting looking at her, but I needed to thank her for this,” (indicating her body). I wish she hadn’t had to die, it feels almost as if I’ve robbed her of her life by becoming her.”

    Kim snorted, “No way girl, you were as much a victim as she was. Be thankful you now have a life to live.”

    “Oh I am, I am… No, I think this will be something of an adventure that few people could appreciate.”

    “Remember we are here to help you for as long as you want us.”

    “Thank you, I couldn’t have done without all of you. I want you to stay with me for as long as you wish,” replied Phoebe.

    “Do you think the body will be okay where it is? We don’t want someone finding it accidentally.” Phoebe asked worriedly.

    “Unlikely, I found this place using my sonar. I don’t think there’s another soul who knows this spot. It’s a deep, mud filled depression according to my readings. ‘Phoebe’s’ body will soon be covered beyond anyone’s reach.”

    After they docked and walked back to the house, Michelle who had stayed behind with the girls and the baby, greeted them with cups of whisky laced coffee which were thankfully accepted. While everyone went into the main lounge at Phoebe’s request, she went and brought out the gifts she had bought.

    Phoebe handed them out, explaining that they were in appreciation for all of their help. Michelle loved the lovely black negligee that Phoebe had given her. The two girls were playing quietly at Michelle’s feet with the dolls that Michelle had given them looking and acting their apparent age and sex.

    Once the girls had opened their gifts, and exclaimed over the clothes that just happened to be what they wanted, Phoebe winked at Kim, knowing that it was she that picked out what each wanted. Then Kim opened hers, one was a new barometer to replace the one broken by the shooting and a pale lavender peignoir. Bill got a brand new fishing rod and the promise of as many fishing trips on the boat as he wanted. Pickles looked on not having been given a present, a little piqued at missing out. Finally with a grin, Phoebe pulled out a small gift from behind her back, handing it to Pickles.

    “We all know how you would like to get into our panties, so I thought, why not. So here is a pair from each of us for you to wear.”

    Opening the gift Pickles looked at the five pairs of panties with a grin as everyone laughed with him.

    “Pickles blushed, but quipped back, “I knew I’d get into your panties one of these days,” then he joined in with the fresh burst of laughter.

    Later as Michelle and Bill were leaving, Phoebe noticed that baby Linda wasn’t with her.

    “Where’s Linda?” she inquired.

    “Sandra expressed a wish to raise her as her child so I’m leaving her here. That is okay isn’t it?” she asked anxiously.

    “Of course, I’m sure she’ll be doted on in a little while, as everyone forgets who she really was.”

    They hugged each other as they left, Phoebe insisting that they don’t become strangers. Walking back inside to a supper that Pickles had hastily prepared, they sat around quietly talking. Phoebe grinned at the sight of Sandra holding Linda, feeding her a bottle of formula.

    That night in her bed, Phoebe lay awake, thinking of her future. At this point it looked great, she was rich, beautiful and had more friends now than she ever had in her old life. There was the question of what sex would be like with a man, but it didn’t repulse her, in fact she was looking forward to her first experience as a woman. As she drifted off to sleep she reminded herself to ask Sandra to invite her brother. May as well start looking for a suitable life mate was her last sleepy thoughts.

End

 

A footnote

    This story is a work of fiction. It was written half a world away from the actual locality, but there were several eerie coincidences that occurred while I was writing it. I used Jamestown because my friend Cathy lives there and could fill me in on local colour. I also downloaded a map, which showed me the streets of both Jamestown and nearby Celoron, which I used in my story.

    The character was originally going to be called Cathy Wilson (for obvious reasons), but got changed to Phoebe (another friend), who had asked to be in one of my stories.

    I chose Celoron for the main part of the story to be based in. Cathy emailed me after reading a part of a rough draft. She was rather shocked, she told me that a girl by the name Cathy Wilson had disappeared from Celoron two years earlier, and her body has not been found.

    Looking for a street near the lake for ‘Phoebe’s’ home, I picked at random, a street from my map. In the story, I had my characters drive along the street leading to the house.

    When Cathy read this chapter a few days later, she told me I had done it again. Apparently, the street that I had picked out randomly, was the one from where another girl had mysteriously disappeared. Talk about coincidence.

    As I said earlier, this story is a work of fiction. (I hope)

    Now to dedications, most of the people who helped me in the writing of this story are in the story as characters. I’ll let you guess who they are, (most are writers themselves) For those that aren’t, I’d like to thank Jenny Jane Pope, Cathy_t, Virginia Kane, and a very special thanks to Karen Summerfield who did most of my proofing lol.