This is an extended version of the one I posted last month. Thanks to Robyn Hood and Cressar for the support and proof reading!

Part 2

The examination with Doctor Fields couldn’t be more embarrassing. He’s come up to Manchester especially and has been given an office at the Manchester Royal Infirmary just for this purpose. I suppose I should feel special, but all I do feel is the cold plastic of a chair against my bare bum as I sit here in the inadequate gown they gave me.

I have already gone through the indignity of blood and urine tests, as well as a short physical in a weird little gym. The worst part was the nurse chatting away to me like I was a real teenage girl. She asked me if I had a boyfriend yet and, when I answered that I wasn’t really in to all that, she just gave me a knowing look and said, “It won’t be long now,” before changing the subject.

Julia sits next to me trying to be positive. She talks about what we are going to have for our tea, what’s on TV this evening; I barely hear any of it.

“Don’t sit like that with your arms crossed,” she whispers.

“Huh?” I grunt unappreciatively.

“Holding your arms like that pushes your breasts up and out,” Julia says calmly.

I can see a little smile on her face as I quickly drop my arms by my side. All I can do is sit here watching the medical staff go by. I wonder how many of them know about me. I have never felt smaller or more vulnerable, towered over even by the other women, with a breeze coming under my gown.

Eventually Doctor Fields comes out of the office they have assigned him and invites us in. I wonder what could have been keeping him; as far as I know I’m the only patient he is seeing up here.

After we have taken a seat and Julia and the Doctor have exchanged the usual nothings about the weather and traffic he turns to me.

“So Mark, how have you been?”

There seems so much I could talk about; Jessie and her gang, having to live as a sexless roommate with my own wife but, being British, I reply, “Fine thanks.”

“Good,” he says nodding like I’ve imparted some great wisdom. “You haven’t experienced anything unusual?” I look at him and he laughs, “Apart from the obvious.”

His acknowledgement of the situation I am in breaks the ice a little.

“No, I don’t think so,” I answer. I notice Julia looking a little uncomfortable, but she doesn’t say anything.

“So no mood swings, nothing like that?”

“No…” I start, but Julia cuts in.

“Well actually, you have been a little moody,” she says, not looking at me directly.

“Of course I have.” I look between them - their expressions are grave. “You’d be ‘a little moody’ if you found yourself in a completely strange body!” I realise I’ve raised my voice and I catch them exchanging glances.

“Of course you have been through a major change, Mark, we’d be very surprised if it had no effect on your emotional state.” His voice is slow and professional, calming me down. “You also need to be aware that your brain and your body are still getting used to each other. Your brain will have to adjust to the new signals your body is sending.”

“It won’t need to get used to it,” I realise I am crossing my arms again and quickly drop my hands into my lap, “because I’m not going to be in this body for much longer.”

“No, quite,” I don’t like the note of uncertainty in his voice, “but until you are ready to change back we do need to take good care of you.”

“Hmph,” I assent grudgingly.

“Do you think all this could explain the recent reckless behaviour we discussed over the phone?” Julia addresses the doctor; again she can’t look straight at me. They’ve been discussing me over the phone!

“I think that sounds very likely,” Doctor Fields says, speaking directly to Julia.

“Is there anything we can do?” It’s as though I’m not even in the room.

“Well I wouldn’t worry too much,” he says, turning to look at me, “I think we are in the transition period right now. Once the body and mind have had time to match up I think this little problem will resolve itself.”

I don’t like the sound of my body and mind ‘matching up’ as he puts it. My mind is expecting the body of a 36 year old man and I’m pretty happy with that.

“Could you get up on the bed here?” he asks, indicating one of those mechanical hospital beds they use in examining rooms. I do as he says, just wanting this to be over. “Now, could you lie back on the bed for me?” I notice two metal stirrups protruding from the bottom of the bed but don’t think much of them. This must be the women’s health section of the hospital.

“OK Mark, please could you put a foot in each stirrup?” Doctor Fields asks, I notice his voice has taken a detached, professional air.

“Hey, what? No one mentioned this to me,” I look around the room wildly and try to get up. I feel Julia’s hand on my shoulder holding me down.

“Is this really necessary doctor?” she asks him. The concern in her voice does little to calm me down.

“I am afraid it is,” he says. “We need to be sure everything is working, if it’s not it could lead to a major problem down the line.”

I try to calm myself down as I feel his strong hands guide my feet into the stirrups. With my knees up I can’t see much but I feel his hands move away and can hear him putting on plastic gloves.

“Now, this will be a little cold, Emma.”

I lie back breathing slowly; somewhere at the back of my mind it registers that he is now calling me Emma. I feel cold metal against parts of my body my mind still hasn’t come to accept exist yet.

I feel Julia squeeze my elbow and I reach up and grab her hand. I realise I have been holding my breath.

After what seems like an eon Doctor Fields finally speaks to me.

“Okay, Emma, everything appears to be in order.” He turns to look at Julia. “You’ll be pleased to know she seems completely healthy.”

“Good,” she says in a whisper and I can see she’s as freaked out by this as I am. I’m sure she never expected to be holding her husband’s hand while he gets a smear test.

“Can I ask you, has she had her period yet?” He asks such an extraordinary thing in such a casual way.

“I think Mark would prefer it if you referred to him as a ‘he’ doctor,” Julia says looking at me and I nod my head in conformation.

“Oh, I am sorry Mark,” says the doctor, standing up so I can see him, “it’s just from the view I have…” his voice trails off, “but getting back to my question?”

“Er… no, I don’t think so,” Julia looks at me for confirmation again.

“No,” I say in a voice barely above a croak.

“Well I wouldn’t worry. It will take a while for all the body’s functions to ‘come on line’, but I think we can expect the cycle to start sometime in the next month to six weeks.”

We just nod dumbly; I can see from Julia’s expression that this is as much a shock for her as for me.

“So, does this mean Emma, I mean Mark, could get pregnant?” Julia asks, putting an actual voice to what I am screaming in my head.

“Well, yes. This technology has been used for surrogacy programmes for couples with fertility problems. All those have been through IVF. I don’t know of any examples of pregnancy through sex with the New Bodies but I guess it is technically possible.”

I try to get up, forgetting that my feet are still trapped the stirrups, causing myself to nearly fall off the bed. I’m only saved by Julia grabbing me. It takes her nearly fifteen minutes to calm me down.

Outside in reception I finally break down completely. I can’t stop myself from crying, sobs so strong that they shake my body. Julia puts her arms around me hugging me close. It lasts only a few minutes and I slowly regain my composure. Patients and medical staff walk by; all they see is a mother consoling her teenage daughter.

I call Julia’s name out as I come in through the door. Thank fuck it’s Friday, I think to myself as I sling my school rucksack down by the coat stand and drop my keys into the key bowl. I can hear voices coming from the living room; “Mum” I call out, remembering to keep my cover.

“In here, sweetheart,” Julia says, popping her head out through the living room doorway at the other end of the hall. “Some of the girls from work are visiting, come say hi.”

God, after the week I’ve had all I want is a beer and curry and a night in front of the TV. But, relationships are made of moments like this so I suck it up and slouch my way down the hallway.

I wait on the edge of the doorway but Julia beckons me in.

“Come on, come say hi to everyone,” she smiles warmly at me. I spy a half empty bottle of wine on the coffee table and full glasses in the hands of the four women in the room. “You know Ms Patil of course,” Julia puts her arm around me hugging me close as I nod at Inspector Deepa, “and these are Kelly and Sophie from the office. Everyone this is my daughter Emma.”

I wince slightly at Julia calling me her daughter; I know it’s the cover but I still can’t quite get used to it.

“Hi everyone,” I say, giving them a lame little wave and the women beam back at me.

“How’s the new school Emma?” the woman introduced as Kelly asks. She’s a tall woman in her late twenties / early thirties; quite hot looking in a ‘power dressing’ sort of a way.

“Oh you know, school is school, one’s pretty much the same as the next.” It means nothing but I hope it is enough to satisfy them.

“You poor thing, I hated starting a new school when I was a teenager,” Sophie says. She’s a short woman, a little round at the hips, wearing a sensible trouser suit. She makes a sympathetic face at me. “I was an army brat so I went to three different high schools,” she says addressing the whole room.

“Yeah, it sucks,” I say hoping to end this conversation as quickly as possible. I am hoping they will let me go to ‘my’ room; at least so I can change out of my school things and play computer games for a bit.

“Emma, Ms Patil has a surprise for you,” Julia says smiling. I shoot her a suspicious look. The other women in the room exchange glances - what the hell is going on? It is then I hear the sound of a toilet flushing coming from the hallway. Who? What?

A tall boy in black jeans and a Nirvana t-shirt enters the room. I recognise him as one of the Sixth Form kids I saw hanging out around the art block. He smiles sheepishly at everyone. I clock his age as being around seventeen. He probably wasn’t even born when that t-shirt first came out.

“Emma, this is Noah, my nephew,” Deepa says. I can tell she is nervous about my reaction. Damn right, she should be.

“Er, hi Noah,” I say glancing nervously at Julia who is still smiling at me. Is this some sort of prank?

“Nice to meet you,” Noah says. I guess he’s not too happy to be here either - I wouldn’t have been happy being stuck with some strange fifteen-year-old girl on a Friday night when I was his age. Noah looms over me. It gives me butterflies; he must be at least a foot taller than me.

“Noah,” says Deepa, “why don’t you help yourself to some wine?” She turns to Julia, “can Emma have a glass as well?”

“I guess.”

Her eyes flicker to me then she turns to Noah.

“Emma can have half wine, half lemonade, Noah.” He shoots me a sympathetic look and I feel myself burning up with embarrassment.

The room breaks into different little conversations as Noah heads to the kitchen looking for glasses.

“Looks like someone is already smitten,” I overhear Kelly saying to Sophie. Damn! They’ve interpreted my embarrassment at the situation as some sort of hopeless teenage crush; I pray Noah doesn’t do the same.

“Sorry love,” Julia whispers to me, “is it okay if I go out for a drink or two?”

I nod; I guess this is hard on her as well, and I suppose I could do with some time alone.

I nod again and she says, “We’ll be leaving in about half an hour,” with a smile.

“Great.” I breathe again - at least my ordeal will be short.

Noah returns from the kitchen and hands me a large wine glass. I take sip realising that he has only put a small splash of lemonade in it, I look at him in shock and catch him giving me a sly little wink. Well, at least one person isn’t treating me like a kid.

Deepa comes over and hands Noah a twenty-pound note saying, “Here’s some extra cash, you can order pizza for you and Emma if you want.”

Hey, wait - Noah is staying here with me?!

“Emma, why don’t you show Noah your room? Noah you are going to love Emma’s record collection,” Julia says, catching me off guard. I try to think of something to get me off the hook but I can’t think quickly enough.

“You collect vinyl, Emma? That’s very cool,” and despite myself I blush at Noah’s flattery, glad of an excuse to get out of the living room and prying eyes. I can see Kelly and Sophie giggling a little as I turn to Noah. As we leave the room I hear Julia’s voice.

“Emma,”

“Yes?” What now?

“Don’t forget to leave your bedroom door open, dear.”

I feel my face burning red hot; I don’t dare look at Kelly, Sophie or Deepa.

“So Deepa is your aunt then?” I ask as I stand in the doorway of my supposed bedroom, afraid to cross the threshold with Noah inside.

“Yeah, Aunty Deepa is married to my father’s brother.” He looks around at me, “This is a pretty cool collection, how did you get so much?”

“My dad left some of it to me when he died,” I reply, which is partly true, although I have had about twenty odd years to build it up since then.

“Bummer,” says Noah.“My dad died a few years ago as well,” he looks at me directly. I see a moment of sadness behind those blue eyes and then it passes. I suppose he isn’t such a bad kid; it might be okay to spend a few hours with him.

I kneel down next to Noah and we spend ten minutes rummaging through my box of records. Noah pulls out The Rocky Horror Show.

“It’s red vinyl, a collector’s edition,” I tell him, a hint of pride in my voice.

“My aunts go mad for this,” he tells me and I try to picture Deepa in full costume. I hear a knock on the open door and nearly jump out of my skin. I realise how close I am to Noah.

“We’re leaving now, honey,” Julia says, standing over me. I can hear the other women putting their coats on in the hall way, “I wont be out too late love, but no staying up past twelve, okay?”

“Mum!” I exclaim, blushing red when I realise how like a fifteen-year-old girl I must sound.

“Noah, here’s a menu for the pizza place Emma likes,” she says, handing Noah a cheaply produced flyer. “Don’t let her order a side of chips, she’s on a diet.”

“My god ‘Mum’, he’s not my babysitter!” I snap, my mouth wide open in disbelief.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Julia bends over and kisses me on the forehead, my kneeling down only adding emphasis to the difference in height between us. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your new friend.” She smiles at Noah and then exits the room.

My cheeks are still burning as I hear Julia and the others calling out goodbye by before leaving. I am sure I can hear Kelly and Sophie cackling away.

“Hey, I’ve just put together a new playlist, do you want to hear it?” Noah asks, bringing me out of my bad mood and back into the room.

“Sure,” I say with a sigh, “the speakers are in the living room.”

It takes me a while to get Noah’s phone and our speakers to connect. While I am doing that Noah calls the takeaway on our landline. We sit at different ends of the sofa talking about our favourite music. Noah talks about the tracks we listen to and new bands I haven’t heard of, his enthusiasm is endearing. I curl my legs up underneath me; the sensation of feeling the sofa through my tights is still new to me. It makes me realise I am still in my school uniform. Is it too late to go change? Would it give the wrong impression?

As I am weighing up my clothing options the doorbell rings.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” Noah says, standing up and leaving me sitting there. I tell myself off for being so passive. This is my place, I shouldn’t be letting him take the lead. While he’s gone I pull off my school jumper and tie, just leaving the oversized white shirt and black skirt. I notice the skirt has risen up my thighs so I try to pull it down. I wonder if I have time to change into jeans and a jumper but Noah is back in the room before I can do anything.

We eat the pizza straight out of the box. I notice he’s ordered a side of chips.

“Fuck your mum, eh?”

He smiles at me again making me snort through my nose as I laugh, mouth full.

“Yeah,” I say, sounding stupid. I was rather hoping I would get the chance to ‘fuck her’ tonight.

“Hey, is that the latest Call of Duty?” He sounds excited and I look where he is pointing.

“Oh yeah,” I pause, trying to think of an reason why a fifteen year old girl would own a game that isn’t even out on the high street yet. “Mum got it from America, she has friends there.” Well, it was true about the America bit, although Julia hates me playing this game.

“Cool, can you load it up?”

I kneel down in front of the TV setting things up. I try to connect the player with the TV and have to bend right down to reach underneath our plasma screen. As I finally get the thing in I realise I’ve been waving my bum in the air for the last five or so minutes. I don’t dare look around at Noah, I can’t bear seeing the expression on his face.

As I load up the game Noah talks about missions he’s been on with his mates as if they are real, damn millennials. Suddenly he jumps up.

“Wait there,” he says. He heads into the kitchen where I hear him rummaging around. I feel like an idiot just sitting here waiting for him to come back, my hands placed neatly on lap, but I don’t move.

He returns with Julia’s bottle of vodka and two glasses. He sits down cross-legged next to me; even sitting he is much bigger than me. He pours out two generous shots and hands one to me.

“If you get killed, you take a shot,” he smiles.

I realise how much I need a drink as he hands me the glass. Hell, I know this isn’t a good idea but, what with school and Julia working late so much, this is the nearest thing I’ve had to adult company in a long while. Anyway, I should be able to show this little punk a thing or two. He may tower over a foot above me but I can still hand him his arse on Call of Duty any day.

A couple of hours later and we are both a little drunk. The game is starting to get a little stupid as we are joined online by more and more drunks coming back from the pub. I look at my phone, nothing from Julia; I wonder if she’s gone into town?

“You want to do something different?” I ask Noah.

“Sure, what have you got?” He’s leaning back on his arms, his muscles taut.

“You play cards?” I mimic him leaning back, then realise I am pushing my boobs out. I over correct and hug my legs to my torso, unbalancing myself and causing me to wobble unsteadily.

“Sure,” he says, laughing at me, “during break in the common room, but I’m not going to play strip poker with you Emma,”, still laughing a little.

I blush again realising how I must have sounded. I try to recover.

“Aw, tease,” I say as I swerve into the corner. “How about we play for dares?”

I get the cards and we start to play. The first round goes to me and I make him sing ‘I’m A Little Tea Pot’ with the moves while I film him on my phone.

“No social media Emma,” Noah says sternly while I giggle - a little too girlishly for my liking.

The next game goes my way as well and I make him tell me who his first kiss was (Gabby Thomas, final year of primary school; she stood on his Yoda figure and made him cry).

The third game he wins and makes me do ten press-ups while he lies on the floor making sure I lift myself completely off the floor. I have to redo almost as many press-ups as not, but it is worth it, he has a tell. His left eyebrow goes up when he thinks he has a good hand.

Our next game goes on longer than the ones before. I can see he thinks he has a good hand but I have four nines and doubt he can beat that.

“What are you going to put on the table?” he asks, meaning what will the forfeit be if he keeps playing.

I want him to fold so I think quickly.

“Loser gets spanked,” I giggle. My, my, Emma - where did that come from?

“Well, now I have to see your cards,” he grins. I may have miscalculated; perhaps my slapping his bottom isn’t such a deterrent after all.

I place my cards on the table in a pretend coy way expecting him to concede. Too late I notice the shit-eating grin on his face. He places his cards down one at a time, first a ten of hearts, then a Jack of diamonds, a Queen of Spades and a King of Clubs. He holds the final card in his hand for moment or two longer for dramatic effect, my heart in my mouth, before putting the Ace of Spades down. Fuck! A straight flush, the bastard.

He gets up off the floor and sits down on the sofa. Slapping his knee he says, “Come on Emma, hop on.”

Damn he’s played me. I can’t welsh on a bet.

“You wont be too hard will you?” God, I sound pathetic!

Slowly and uncertainly I lie over his knee. He holds my wrists together with his left hand pinning me there.

SMACK!

“Ow, that’s too…”

SMACK!

“… hard!”

SMACK!

“Noah, please!” I squeal.

SMACK! SMACK!

“Are you going to delete that video off your phone?” he asks in a mock reasonable voice.

Stupidly I pause before replying.

SMACK!

“Okay, okay, I’ll delete it! Please stop!” I plead

“Let me see you do it.”

He lets go of my right arm so I can reach over to the table and grab my phone; all the while he slaps my arse although in a softer, more playful way now. Finally I find the ‘Little Teapot’ video and delete it. I hold my phone up to show him.

“Good girl,” he says, giving my bum one last playful swat for good measure before releasing me.

I go sit down on the other side of the table pouting slightly. My bottom hurts as I sit on the hard floor but I wont let him see my discomfort.The next game is my chance to get my own back on the rotter. I have two pairs, kings and eights. By the look on his face he has nothing; there’s no tell.

“What are we betting?” he asks.

“Revenge,” I say, perhaps a little more huffily than I had planned. I get up and go in the kitchen. After rummaging around I come back holding a roll of gaffer tape.“Loser gets taped up,” I say, “and then we’ll see who is the big man.”

I am fed up of feeling loomed over and like a fragile little girl. Time for some payback, Mr Spanky. He agrees to carry on and tries to keep his face straight, but I can see the worry lines on his forehead.

Finally I ask to see his cards. I put mine down feeling fairly confident. He puts a two down, and then another. Well he’s got a pair at least. Then he puts a three down and then another. Well, well respectable at least. Still I’ve won and I reach for the tape, only before I can pick it up he puts his hand on top of it stopping me. I look at him confused; he just smiles putting down a third three. Shit, I’ve been played again!

Before he can say anything I am up and running into the corridor - perhaps if I can make it to my room…

He’s too fast; I feel him grab me from behind and pick me up. He then carries me, fireman style, back into the living room and plops me down on the sofa.

“Hold still, Emma, and this will be over in a minute.”

He isn’t lying; within a few minutes my legs are bound at my knees and ankles. The tops of my arms are bound to my torso and my wrists are bound together in front of me. I wriggle about but I only manage to slip off the sofa bumping my bum again.

“Right,” he says, looking at me like a cat who has cornered a mouse, “I guess there’s only one place left to tape.”

“Hey, wait, what? Mmph!” I cry out as he puts a strip of tape over my mouth. I squeal and can feel my eyes go wide in shock. Damn it, I’ve let myself become his total bitch. It is like there’s some part of my brain that’s just stopped working.

“Look, don’t worry,” he says suddenly sounding reasonable, “I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“Hmmm,” I growl at him, narrowing my eyes. You better not, buster.

“Well,” that shit eating grin returns, “I might just tickle your feet a little.”

I try to pull away but my reaction time is slow and he puts his left hand on my legs holding me there. I feel his finger on the smalls of my feet through the tights I am wearing. Why did they have to make the tights so thin? Come to think of it, why did they make my body so ticklish?

I wriggle about trying to get free, like some helpless trapped worm. For some strange reason I don’t feel scared. Despite everything Noah seems an OK sort of kid. I don’t feel like I am in any real trouble, in fact I feel calm. He works his way up my body tickling my sides through my thin school blouse. My skirt is no longer protecting my modesty; it has ridden right up my thighs. I am wriggling about but it is really only for show. I don’t find him attractive, not any more than in an abstract sense, but it does feel good to be touched. How long has it been, what with the hospital and Julia treating me like a kid?

Ouch! I wasn’t thinking and I’ve banged my head on the side of the table. Darn it, that hurts.

“Hey, you OK?” says Noah and he looks genuinely concerned. “Let me get you out of this”

He gently pulls the tape from my mouth, stroking my hair where I bumped my head in a soothing fashion. I see his concerned face looking down at me and before I know it I am sitting up and kissing him. Not him kissing me, I am kissing him!

It is not him I am thinking about as I close my eyes. Poppy comes into my head. Is it wrong to be fantasising about a fifteen year old girl, even when I am one too? I try to change the mental image to one of Julia, but he pulls back and ends the kiss. Why did I do it? I guess it has been a while since I’ve been touched, what with Julia being freaked out by my new body and the month I was in the hospital.

“Sorry,” I say, “did I just make this feel weird or what?” Suddenly I don’t feel so drunk.

“Ha, I think I may have had more than a hand in that,” he laughs. “Let me give you a hand getting out of that and cleaning this place up.”

I smile at him. He has a calming effect; maybe it is his slow, reassuring way of speaking. A weird thing to think, but as I sit there, him unwinding the tape from around me, I think how he’ll make a great dad some day. He’ll just have to stay clear of girls who want to play kinky games.

As we get up I realise how unsteady I am. Damn you are drunk, girlfriend! I look at the vodka bottle as he picks it up from where we have been sitting. It is almost empty; it was nearly full when we started. Noah sees where I am looking

“Is your mum going to be angry?”

“I’m bound to get it in the neck,” I sigh, although she’s still out and looking at my phone it’s nearly one am.

“Well if it’s any consolation Aunty Deepa’s going to read the riot act at me if she finds out,” he shrugs. “I was supposed to be looking after you.”

“Wait, what?” looking after me?

“Don’t you get it? I was supposed to be your babysitter for tonight.” He must be able to see how angry I am. “Don’t look at me, I thought it was pretty lame too but your mum and Deepa offered me £50. They said you got into a fight earlier in the week and they thought you need someone to talk to.”

I realise I have my arms crossed and am tapping my feet in the classic angry teen girl stance. I don’t know what to say - they thought I needed a babysitter?

“What do they think I am? Ten?” I blurt out.

He comes close, touching my shoulder. The gesture relaxes me a little. What can I say? He really does have a calming effect on me.

“Look,” he says and I have to strain my neck to look up at him, “don’t worry about the alcohol,” I wasn’t thinking about that but I guess I must have looked worried. “I’ll take the blame. Just say it was my idea, I don’t mind,” he says before I can get my protest out. “I’ll even give the money back. I’m just glad you turned out to be so cool. I thought they were going to lumber me with a nerdy little kid.”

After we finish cleaning up I see him to the door, “Thanks,” I say, feeling a little stupid, “for being so nice to me,”

“No worries,” he smiles, “come say hi at school, I’m sure my mates would love you.”

I may be a little rusty at being a teenager but I know being invited to hang out with the sixth formers is going to send my street cred through the roof. Maybe next week wont be so bad.

“Can my friend Poppy come too?” I ask on a whim.

He laughs, “Sure, I’m not going to say no to another pretty girl,” I blush from my head down to my feet and he laughs again.

“Anyway, take care, Emma - see you around,” and with that he’s off.

That was bloody weird, I don’t know what to think. I lean against the door once he’s gone. I go to our bedroom and write a text to Julia calling her out on all this babysitter bollocks but, after a few moments, I delete it. I may be drunk but I know not to text when angry. We’ll just have to sort it out in the morning. In its place I write a text telling her that Noah’s left and that I am going to bed. I finally get changed out of my school uniform and into those bloody Hello Kitty pyjamas. I don’t clean my teeth or wash and I am asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

It must be a couple of hours later when I am woken by Julia stroking my hair.

“Hello sweetheart,” she is in a good mood, “sorry to wake you.” I just grunt; it’s hard to be in a bad mood when Julia is so happy. “I am sorry but I’m going to have to move you into your room.”

“Huh?” I get my voice back, “you mean the little room?”

“Kelly is staying over dear, she missed her last train home,” I take the hint in her voice to stay in character.

“Why can’t she stay in ‘my’ room?” I ask.

“You have to admit, dear, it’d look a little strange for a fifteen year old girl to be sleeping with her mummy,” she laughs a little, I laugh too. I guess she has a point. I start trying to get up. Julia surprises me by taking my hand and leading me out of the room.

I want to protest but I am too groggy from booze and sleep so I let her. Hell it feels nice to be physically close to her again. I feel my eyelids closing as she leads me into the corridor. Kerry must be near by as I hear Julia say “She's still my little girl.” I hear Kerry say something but I can’t make out what it is. Julia puts me down on the single bed and puts the cover over me.

“Thanks for being so understanding, honey,” she whispers kissing me on the forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

I can feel her tucking me in as I drift off. She really would have made a good mother and I feel bad about not giving her kids. Maybe we can look into something after all this is over?

I wake up a little later when I hear the door of the main bedroom bang shut. I hear whispering and giggling coming from there. I guess they must have had a really good night. I try to turn over but Julia has been overly officious with the tucking in and I am pinned where I am. I want to struggle free but my head starts spinning and I fall back asleep.

“Wakey, wakey sweetheart.”

I wake up to Julia standing over me pulling my covers back.

“Urgh,” I grunt in reply, my head pounding. My mouth tastes like something died in it. I screw my eyes up trying to shield them from the bright early autumn sun coming in through the window.

“Come on sleepy head, Kelly is going to buy us breakfast as a thank you for letting her stay.”

Hmmm, I suppose a fry-up might be what’s called for, although I don’t fancy playing the little girl around Kelly any longer. I pull myself up and grunt my assent.

“Good girl,” Julia ruffles my hair. “Ooo, sorry love.” She lowers her voice, she must have caught the dirty look I gave her. I am still smarting over the whole ‘babysitter’ bollocks from last night, but now’s not the time.

“Urgh, how are you up this early in the morning? You were up a lot later than me,” I shake my head, still not used to seeing hair cascading down in front of my eyes although it does give me some privacy.

“I paced myself, and drank plenty of water before bed and also, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re a fair bit smaller than me now. You don’t have the body mass for drinking lots.”

“Don’t remind me,” I say in a huff. God, I sound more like a teenage girl every day. I stand up and feel the room spin for a moment then I’m fine.

“Come on girly, get a move on, Aunty Kerry has a train to catch,” Julia swats my behind, which stings badly after last night, and then shoves a clean towel into my hands. ‘Girly’? ‘Aunty’? There’s no time to pick her up on it now and a hot shower does sound like a good idea.

Steam pours out of the bathroom as I step out and wrap two towels around me, a pink one around my body and a smaller red one around my hair. That was a good idea.

“Emma, can you step in here please?” I hear Julia’s voice coming from the living room and she sounds annoyed.

“Err, sure, what’s up… err mum?”

Moving cautiously I join her in the living room. As I enter I see Kerry looking sheepish.

“I’ll... I’ll just go into the kitchen,” she says. “Anyone want a coffee?”

I just nod at her as she leaves. Julia has a face like thunder and I wonder what I have done now.

“Can you explain this please young lady?”

She’s holding up the nearly empty vodka bottle - well, I guess she had to find out some time. I scratch the back of my head.

“Er... I guess we got a little carried away. Sorry about that.” This feels odd, after all she knows I am a grown up.

“And I got a call while you were in the shower,” - I look at her blankly - “from downstairs complaining about the noise. They said they heard shouting and screaming, they nearly called the police.”

I hope no one ever tries to kidnap me because our neighbours would be useless.

“We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile,” Julia says under her breath.

“Sorry, I guess we didn’t realise.”

It would have been pretty hard to explain if they had burst in while Noah had me taped up on the floor.

“So Noah made you do it?” It’s half a question, half an accusation.

“No, no, nothing like that.” I know Noah said he’d take the fall for me but I am not going to rat him out. “It was all me.”

“I bet it was. I bet you had him around your little finger.”

“Why are you being like this?” I whisper, shooting glances at the kitchen where I can hear Kerry moving around.

Julia follows the direction of my eyes.

“OK, we’ll speak about this later.”

I relax. I’ll give her time to calm down a little and it’ll be okay. She’ll see she is over reacting.

“Go get changed so we can get out of here,” she says, gesturing to the door. As I turn to go she continues in a louder voice, “...and don’t think you got away with it just because Aunty Kerry is here.”

I storm out, enough with this ‘Aunty’ business.

The cafe is bright and busy with customers, mostly young couples and families.

“I used to come here with my ex,” Kerry tells me while Julia is in the toilet. On the table next to us is a middle-aged couple with two boys. The oldest of which, probably around thirteen I’d guess, keeps glancing at me. His looks are getting bolder and crossing over the line into staring.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I mutter under my breath.

Kerry turns to see where I am looking.

“Just try to ignore him honey,” she says.

“Urgh, why do boys have to stare so much?” I realise I’m a big hypocrite; I probably stared just as much when I was a teenage boy. “It's been like this at school.”

“Well, school will calm down soon. At the moment you’re something of a novelty,” Kerry smiles kindly. I guess she’s not so bad. I can’t blame her for Julia’s mood.

“More like novelty toy,” I say in a huff, at which Kerry smiles.

“Well you should never let anyone make you feel like that,” She pauses and I can feel she is working up to something, “but remember they are just as afraid of you as you are of them. Even if it does seem like your classmates have suddenly shot up and you are living in the land of the giants. They may look intimidating now but they are still the frightened kids inside they used to be. It takes boys a while to get used to their new bodies.”

I just nod. I do remember how it felt trying to approach a girl when I was in my early teens. Still, I don’t like the staring.

Kerry has left to catch the train and Julia and I are heading home. I try to engage her in conversation but she ignores me. I take a deep breath and wait for the battle ahead. As we climb the stairs to our front door she gets ahead of me. I can’t climb stairs too fast in these skin-tight jeans and I am frustrated Julia wont slow down for me. By the time we get through the door we are both in a mood.

“Okay,” says Julia and I can see she’s trying to keep calm. For some reason, that makes me even madder “What the hell happened last night?”

“You tell me,” I say through gritted teeth. “What was all that about a babysitter?”

“He told you did he?” she sighs, “We were worried about leaving you on your own, especially after what happened in the week. I don’t think you realise just how vulnerable you are now. That’s a new body you’re in and you’re still a learner driver.”

“Don’t you think I know?” I’m shouting and waving my hands around. “Look at me!” I pull at the jumper I am wearing, only stopping myself when I realise I have just stamped my foot. I take a deep breath. “Don't you think I know I now have the body of fifteen year old girl and that half the gangsters in London are out to get me. Why do you think I was drinking?”

Ha, that should put her in her place. I give Julia a dirty look but she holds my gaze.

“But it’s not just the drinking is it?” she asks pointedly.

“W-what do you mean?” I am caught off guard. She turns and walks towards the living room and kitchen; I start to follow her but she turns and says sharply, “Just wait there.”

I don’t know why but I find myself rooted to the spot. It’s not like I can’t move, more that the thought of moving fills me with anxiety. Damn, this small body is easy to intimidate.

Julia returns with something screwed up in her hands. It takes me a few moments to realise that it is the gaffer tap from last night. Oh shit, I should have hidden it better, pushed it to the bottom of the rubbish, I think as Julia holds it up in front of my face.

“What’s this?” she asks but her face tells me she knows.

“It... we,” I’m stammering, trying to think how to explain that I let a seventeen year old boy tie me up.

“It was a game, we were just being a bit silly.”

“A game? One of your tie-me-up games no doubt?”

There’s no point denying it and I just look at the floor in shame.

“So you tied that poor boy up just like you used to do to me.”

Her eyes bore into me like searchlights looking for escaped prisoners. We used to have a few kinky sessions years ago but Julia was never that into it.

“Well actually, it was more a case of me being the one who was tied up,” I answer sheepishly. I can tell immediately I’ve said the wrong thing. If this were a cartoon, steam would be pouring out of Julia’s ears.

“So, you batted your eyelashes and got your new friend to tie you up. Did anything else happen?”

“Hey, that’s not what happened. It was a bet. We were playing cards and he was a total card sharp…”

Julia cuts me off “Did anything else happen?”

“Err..” there’s no point lying. I can only try honesty now. “There was a kiss,” my voice trails off.

“He kissed you?” her voice is calm but I can hear the fury behind it.

“Well no, I sort of kissed him.” I can see she’s about to explode, “but it was an accident, my head was all messed up.” I can feel it’s not working. “It was the booze.”

“So,” her voice is cool and emotionless, “when you’re drunk you can’t be expected to stay faithful to me. Is that what you are telling me?”

“No, it’s not like that… it was a bet,” I say pathetically. I’ve not sounded this much like a lame teenager for at least two decades.

“Has this happened before when you’ve been drunk? God knows you used to get drunk with your mates often enough.” She stares hard at me. I feel like I just want to melt away.

“No, no, never, that isn’t what this was. It’s this body, it does crazy things to my head.”

“No,that’s not true. The body doesn’t rewrite your brain waves. It can’t change your behaviour patterns or your sexuality. It’s all about how you use your body.” She turns and walks into our bedroom. “Follow me,” and I do.
Julia sits on the edge of the bed, “I think, seeing as I can’t trust you as a husband but I do still have a duty to keep you safe, at least until the trial.... well, given those things I think it is better if we keep our relationship to a mother - daughter one, at least for now.”

“What?” I look at her, she means business. “Look, if that’s how I prove to you that I’m truly sorry then okay.”

“Good,” she smiles a little, “I’m glad you are being sensible now. This means from now on you call me mum or mother and I call you Emma, even in private. And you refer to other adults as Mrs or Mr, at all times.”

I nod my head. Jesus, I’m in trouble.

“Good. It also means you abide by the rules I set, and try your best at school. And you sleep in your room, not mine, from now on.” She looks tired but I can tell her mind is set so I just nod my head in consent.

“OK, good. I’m glad we’ve had this talk, Emma,” and I wince a little at her using my female name while in private, “now go to your room please and spend the rest of they day there.”

I protest: “I have to spend the rest of the day in my room? That's not fair!”

“Not fair? I should be putting you out of the door after what you did. Is it fair I’ve had to give up my whole life to look after you?”

Give up a job you hated, you mean? But I keep quiet, no point stoking the fire.

“But I’m an adult!”

Even as I say it I realise no one sounds like an adult when they are protesting that they are one.

“No, you’re not. In fact I don’t think you ever were, not really.”

I am stung, I can’t speak and my mouth just gapes open.

“I always felt sorry for you. I know you were traumatised when you lost your parents at fourteen. But I don’t think you ever moved on, not really,” she sighs, looking more sad than angry. “Now go to your room, Emma.” Her voice is stern and in control and I feel my body starting to move, even without me willing it.

“Y-yes,” I stammer.

“Yes what?” Her voice is clear in my head.

“Yes, mum.”

Staying in my room is no fun, especially when I realise that the Kindle and the tablet are both in the living room. I think about playing some records but worry that Julia will think I am not taking my punishment seriously enough. I figure my best plan is to stick to the new rules for a day or two and hope it blows over. I feel really bad about the whole ‘cheating’ thing. I didn’t think of it like that at the time but I have to admit it was pretty shitty of me.

I pick up one of the books Mr Hulse gave me for English. The book is Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson. I’ve heard it’s good, so why the hell not?

After about an hour and a half of a mixture of reading and dozing the pressure on my bladder gets so I can’t ignore it anymore. I’m not sure what the rule is for the toilet - do I need to ask for permission?

I open my bedroom door slowly and creep along the corridor; from the living room I can hear the sound of the TV, some sort of cookery programme I guess.

“Mum?” There’s no response so I raise my voice, “Mum?”

“Yes, Emma?” and the cookery programme stops as Julia puts it on pause.

“Can I use the toilet?” I can’t help keep the nerves out of my voice.

“Can I use the toilet, what?” she repeats back at me, not bothering to come out of the living room to speak to me.

“Can I use the toilet, please mum?”

“Yes Emma, thank you for asking so nicely.” It is some sort of progress, I guess.

I sit on the toilet reading my book; through the door I can hear the sound of Julia’s programme restarting. As I get up I wonder if I could ask to borrow the Kindle, as it’s clear Julia is not using it. I decide not to risk provoking an argument. It's not worth the hassle.

I flush the toilet, wash my hands and head back to what is now ‘my’ room. The TV is still on in the living room; Julia doesn’t seem interested in coming out to speak to me. I decide to take a small risk. At the end of the hall I find my duffel coat and very quietly take out my phone and earphones. At least now I’ll be able to listen to music without calling attention to myself. Feeling a little better about myself I settle back down on the small bed and take my phone out. I notice I have a text from Poppy.

Poppy: “Hey Em, how’s your wknd going? Me and a frnd are thinking of going into town tmrrw, wanna come? xxxx”

I read the text through three times; somehow it makes me feel better knowing someone out there actually wants to know how I am. I see it was sent about two hours ago, probably while Julia and I were having our argument. I text back.

Emma: “Hey Pops, wknd has been a rollercoaster, got wasted last night now locked in a tower by the wicked witch. xx”

I feel bad calling Julia the wicked witch when this is really my fault, but I need to vent. I also need to feel like there is someone on my side. I put the phone down not expecting a reply for a while but the phone vibrates again just two minutes later. I guess teenagers are less guarded.

Poppy: “Wasted, what have you been up to naughty grl??! Xxxxx”

It makes me laugh. I immediately look to the door half expecting to see Julia there angry at me but of course she’s not.

Emma: “Mum went out with her mates and I was left with my Noah from the 6frm! xxx”

I look at what I have written and think about how Poppy will read it, I change “Noah from the 6frm” to ‘a family friend’.

Poppy: “A family friend, is she cute? Xxxxx”

I think I’ve made her a little jealous, although I don’t like to think what that means.

Emma: “He’s a boy and it’s not like that, he’s just a cool guy”

Poppy: “A boy? Intriguing, you must escape the Ogre Princess and tell me all tomorrow. Is the handsome prince in trouble too?”

Emma: “Don’t think so, I covered for him. When the worst comes to the worst my peeps come first,”

I wonder if she’ll get the song reference.

Poppy: “Hashtag Double standards”

If only she knew the half of it. I hear the doorbell ring and Julia go and answer it. Through the door I can hear her speaking to another woman. I am pretty sure it is Deepa. I am not sure what to do. Should I come out? I text Poppy first.

Emma: “The Ogre has sent for reinforcements, better go. Txt you later.”

I hear Julia and Deepa heading off down the hallway, no one knocks on the door. Should I stay put? I guess I better had until further notice. I am not sure if I want Deepa to see me while I am in the doghouse (or should I say the Wendy house?)

I look at my phone - no reply from Poppy; perhaps I shouldn’t have ended the conversation so quickly. I am left sitting there for half an hour/forty minutes until there’s a knock on the door. Julia opens the door without waiting for me to invite her.

“Emma, Inspector Patil is here to talk to you about last night. Can you come in to the living room please?” Julia’s voice is formal but not unkind. I hope I am getting through to her. Why does Deepa want to talk to me? It isn’t like we broke any laws. At least I hope not.

“Sure, but you say you’ve told her what happened last night?” I can’t hide my fear.

“Not everything,” Julia says quietly, “not about the sex games,” - shit, we’re still on that - “but about the drinking and yes, the kissing. And a couple of other things I noticed.” Why is she being so mysterious I wonder?

“Okay,” I say, “I’m coming.”

Julia still stands in the doorway blocking my exit. “Just remember what I said about how you should address adults. It’s Ms Patil unless she tells you different.”

I nod feeling my cheeks burning from embarrassment.

In the living room Deepa is sitting on the sofa, she motions for me to come and sit next to her so I do. Julia takes the armchair across from me.

“Hi Emma - is it okay for me to call you Emma?” Deepa seems to be smiling. That’s good, I was worried I was going to be in for another telling off.

“Emma is fine,” I glance over at Julia, “I suppose I need to get used to it.”

“Good, thank you for making the effort,” she smiles again and I relax a little. “I wanted to ask you what happened last night, in your own words.”

I tell all I can, leaving out the little bondage game and spanking. I notice Julia nod slightly when I skip over those parts.

“Well Emma, I suppose no harm has come from this, although you are going to need to be careful around alcohol when you are out in public. It could put you at risk. Especially as there are people out there who want to do you harm.”

“Sure Ms Patil, don’t worry, I’ve learnt my lesson.” Deepa looks a little confused when I call her ‘Ms Patil’ but doesn’t seem to want to push it. She seems happy I’m not going to be putting myself in any danger.

“Now this kiss, you say Noah didn’t force you?” I can feel her watching me intently.

“No, if anything I kissed him. Your nephew was the perfect gentleman,” (apart from tying me up with gaffer tape and spanking my bottom red raw…). Well, there’s no point throwing Noah under the train, I might as well take the blame.

Deepa seems to visibly relax; she must have been worrying she was going to discover something nasty about her nephew.

“That is good to hear,” Deepa smiles at me.

“I think it might be this body… something like the hormones it produces?” I ask.

“No, it can’t be that. The bodies have something built into them to ensure that doesn’t happen. Anyhow gender and sexuality is far more complicated than just hormones and the shape of genitals. There are many other factors ranging from brainwave patterns to social conditioning.” She looks to Julia and then looks at me. “The body can’t just change your sexuality the first time you come into contact with a tall skinny boy who looks good in a tight t-shirt.”

Julia giggles and then asks a question, “But we were saying that we both noticed some strange behaviour in you even before we left,” she says, looking intently at me then back at Deepa.

“Yes, that’s right. Emma, can I ask you how did you feel when you were around Noah?”

Feel? I didn’t feel anything except drunk, but then again I suppose there was something.

“I’m not sure it’s relevant but I think I did feel very calm when we were together,” I pause for thought, pressing my memory for more details, “and come to think of it, even before we drank anything I felt a little floaty, you know, light headed,” I look between the two women; could this explain my behaviour?

“Hmmm,” says Deepa, “I wonder,” she turns to Julia to explain further. I feel a little mad that she treats me like a child. “The New Bodies technology was, as you know developed for doing dangerous jobs that need humans to do them, such on oil rigs, nuclear power plants, deep mining and so on.” We both nod although Deepa isn’t really looking at me,.“In those cases the bodies are much simpler, and are controlled by remote control or human voice recognition. There’s no point putting anyone inside them as they would be in almost as much risk as they would be if they were in their own bodies.”

“And what does this have to do with Emma?” Julia asks tartly.

“Well, although Emma’s body is very different, far more complicated than those drones, it does share the same basic template. I am wondering if, buried deep down inside her body, there is some part of her that recognised something in Noah as a controller.” She gives me a quizzical look.

“What the f-,” I catch the look Julia is giving me and stop myself from swearing. “I mean are you telling me that there might be guys out there who can tell me what to do and that I can’t disobey?” This deal is getting worse and worse!

“No, not quite. These control patterns exist in all New Bodies, however they are deliberately toned down in ones like yours. No one can force you to do something you don’t want to do. It’s like hypnotism; despite what you may read in bad fiction no one can hypnotise you to harm yourself or to do something that goes against your nature; they can only put suggestions in your head. Also you need to have a deep connection with the person for it to be effective.”

‘Deep connection’, that’s something to think about. I see the expression in Julia’s face and it's not good.

“Usually the connection is activated by some sort of act, usually some submissive gesture on behalf of the New Body. In the case of the simpler models they will bow when they have accepted a new controller. Was there any moment like that?” She looks at us both with a bit of suspicion.

“Well, maybe. OK Deepa, thanks so much for explaining this to us,” Julia says to her, then turns to me, “Emma dear, I want to have a quick talk to Ms Patil before she leaves, would you mind putting the kettle on and getting the pasta going for our tea?” She must see the blank look on my face. “There’s a packet of M&S pasta in the fridge.”

I nod in agreement. I don’t much like the idea of them talking about me behind my back but I can see I still need to win Julia around so I let it go. It’s a while before Julia returns and I have already started the sauce for the pasta.

“What was all that about?” I ask.

“I just had a few questions,” and she says no more.

I begin to push her but she changes the subject by asking me to go fetch a blanket.

“Let's curl up on the sofa and watch crap telly,” she says in a friendly way. I’m too glad to be back in her good books to press things any further. Anyway I want to ask her permission to hang out with Poppy tomorrow.

A few minutes later we are both curled up on the sofa under the blanket eating our pasta from plates on our knees.

“What shall we watch?” she asks between mouthfuls.

“Don’t mind,” I reply, “just don’t make me watch The Voice or Britain’s Got Talent or any of that rubbish.”

“Wrong answer, kiddo,” she grins at me. “My house, my rules.”