Author’s Note:

This is my first attempt at writing a TG story and my first time writing fiction since college. I first read The Professors’ Ovid Chronicles and was captivated by the writing and the plot. I also enjoyed the assorted short stories. When I first read the three published Deity Arms stories, I was once again impressed with the writing, but also very intrigued with the whole premise and creativity of the universe. When I heard it was open to other authors and read the wonderful follow-up stories by Barbie Lee, I knew it was finally time to try my hand at writing again. I highly recommend that you read the existing five stories before reading What’s In Your Wallet?

Since I’m a Scandinavian half-breed myself and have a deep interest in Norse Mythology, the god I used had to be from that Pantheon, with its plethora of major and minor gods, many of which are interesting characters in their own right. I apologize in advance to any reader who finds the introduction of the god I have used to be lengthy and too detailed; my only excuse is that if readers enjoy my story, I plan on writing additional stories using this basis as a launching point. Subsequent stories will not require such a lengthy introduction. If any readers are inspired to write stories in this universe, please feel free to use or link to the gods I have created in mine, keeping with the original intent of the character.

I have tried to keep to the spirit of the Deity Arms universe when integrating my characters with existing ones, attempting to keep the association minor and limited in regards to the characters and writing of previous stories. If The Professor or Barbie Lee takes offense to the way I have used these associations please let me know, and I will remove them and re-post the story.

In summary, please leave comments if you enjoyed the story or if you have constructive criticism or suggestions. I am open to ideas for new stories or changes/corrections to this one. If any of you have comments too lengthy to post, you can contact me at [email protected]. If anyone has their own story they would like me to read or edit, please contact me as I enjoy doing that. If you enjoyed this and want to read more, please let me know.

Sincerely,
Stephanie Hanson

Deity Arms 6 “What’s in Your Wallet?”

By Stephanie Hanson

Val was irritated. This was nothing new for him and he would be the first to admit it. He had been enjoying the spring weather in a ‘borrowed’ villa in Greece overlooking the Mediterranean. Enjoying might not exactly describe what Val had been doing immediately after the telegram came from the States. Hiding and running would have been more accurate.

Running was also nothing new to Val. He had been running, hiding, and narrowly escaping for much of his life, and he was much older than he appeared to be. Running was not what caused him irritation. What bothered him now was the fact that he had really, really liked the villa. He was also irritated because Diana, the Roman goddess of the hunt, and she was often on the hunt, was supposed to join him tomorrow for a short visit. Diana defined ‘Body of a goddess’ and she and Val had spent some time together on and off over the centuries. Val liked the villa enough that he had even toyed with the thought of using some of his not-inconsiderable financial resources and actually buying it. That was unusual for Val; he never paid for anything if he could get it for free, the result of which was Val’s spending a disproportionate amount of his time on the lam.

Material things such as the villa were Val’s downfall. He had made a lot of money in his lifetime. He had also squandered and lost a lot of it several times over. Six feet four, 250 pounds with shoulder length blond hair and ice-blue eyes, he had been living the fast-paced life of a rich playboy for quite a while. His likable demeanor and happy-go-lucky attitude had made him many friends over the years. Jealous husbands, overprotective fathers, jilted lovers, and cheated business partners had also garnered him many powerful enemies.

His most recent enemy and his reason for having to leave Greece in such a hurry was Luis Ernesto Rodriguez. He was the son of working-class Cuban exiles who arrived on the Mariel Boat Lift, as well as a Miami drug lord and the owner of the villa. Very wealthy and very well-connected both politically and in south Florida’s underworld, Luis had taken Val’s unauthorized occupation of his villa very badly, sending both Greek and international law enforcement in pursuit.

The fact he was not currently being interrogated in the back of Korydallos Prison Complex was not due to his skills, of which he had many, but to the telegram he had received.

The first part of the missive was a warning about the imminent arrival of Greek police, known as the Hellenic Police Force, as well as Interpol. This warning, coupled with the name on the telegram and Val’s past experiences with disappearing suddenly caused Val to grab his always-ready emergency bag and vault the rear wall of the estate just as several vehicles were pulling up the long drive to the villa.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of being killed. In his approximately two millennia on the planet, he was well aware of his immortality. However being shot really, really hurt and would make his escape difficult, if not impossible. Not to mention the additional complication of having to escape a hospital or yet another prison.

Paying for the two hour cab ride to the Athens airport, including tip and an extra $50 to buy the cabbie’s silence had used up all of his cash reserves. He had no intention of using the one-way ticket to New York that had been included in the envelope with the telegram. Thankfully he still had his AMEX Platinum card which he had pulled out to purchase a ticket to Tel Aviv at the El Al counter. Israel was a good place to confuse pursuit. Laying low there for a while with a friend of his should cause the trail to go cold. Much to his surprise, the card was declined. Val was stunned. The platinum card had an inconceivable credit limit and was paid each month directly from his numbered bank account in Bern. With the money he had stashed in that account, the card should never be declined. Val was beginning to regret appropriating the seldom-used vacation home of his former Cuban benefactor.

Val pulled the telegram and plane ticket from his pocket and stared at them again, pondering what to do. The plane to America had been boarding for the past half-hour and the airline was making its final boarding announcements. He did not want to use the ticket provided, however being stranded in Athens airport with no money and no friends was definitely unappealing. Hearing commotion by the door, Val looked up to see about a half-dozen uniformed officers of the Hellenic Police Force walking through the terminal, asking questions, showing a picture, and moving slowly toward him down the concourse.

This had been enough to make the decision easy; Val as a physical specimen was not an easy person to forget or miss. Being arrested at the Athens airport would cause…difficulties that might be hard to extricate himself from. Ducking behind a column and turning his back on the terminal, he pulled his hair under his hat and slouching as much as possible, walked briskly up to the gate agent with his ticket in hand. He regretted having to leave his extra clothes and favorite hat behind in the villa.

The young lady at the gate had been about to refuse him entry for his lack of boarding pass until Val stared deep into her eyes and turned on the charm. As her face went blank and her eyes became unfocused, Val pulled away from the gate agent and hurriedly made his way down the Jetway, going through the cabin door just before the flight attendant began to close it.

Val hadn’t relaxed until the plane was airborne. Now, safe and resting comfortably in the first class seat of an American Airlines 777 cruising at 38,000 feet over the Atlantic enroute to JFK from Athens, Val finally had time to re-read and ponder the telegram he had hurriedly stuffed in the pocket of his jacket. The letter that had alerted him to his danger was from a very old friend named El. It was this acquaintance that was the cause of most of his irritation, or at least the fact that he once again found himself owing El, if not his life, then at least his freedom and comfortable existence. Just as he had when Val had first met El during the early Renaissance Period.
____

Val was much older than he looked. He had been born Vali in what is now Sweden, a short time before the birth of Christianity. He was not the Vali, the Norse god of vengeance and the son of Odin, but the other Vali, son of the Norse god Loki and the goddess Sigyn. His father Loki was originally the god of Fire and later became the Trickster, due to his sense of humor and his increasingly vicious practical jokes.

Growing up in Asgard in Scandinavia was difficult and exciting. Vali’s childhood was relatively normal, for a god at least. He was a relatively minor god, and was unusually small for much of his early life. This was unusual because his father’s father was the giant or Jötnar, Farbauti. Most of the children were more often than not descended from giants on one side of their family or the other. This caused him no end of torment at the hands of the other children of The Æsir, the pantheon of what is now Scandinavia. Vali’s one consolation was that he quickly realized at a young age that he possessed a much higher level of intelligence than most of the other children. Indeed, he surpassed many of the adults. This intelligence was, like his small stature, due to his more distant giant genes; giants not being known as the fastest reindeer in the herd, so to speak.

With his intelligence from his mother and the quick wit of his father, Vali was usually able to avoid trouble with his playmates, except when trouble was large, bored, and very close at hand. Vali was mostly raised by his mother, while his father was off meddling in some other tribe’s or other god’s business, against their will more often than not.

As Vali had reached puberty, his body caught up with his mind, growing taller and filling out. He was not without powers of his own. What Val was unaware of was that he had been born and raised as a tool for revenge. As a young man he was often left to his own devices, never being assigned responsibilities and duties as were many of his peers. As a result, he became less and less aware of the politics, backstabbing, and power struggles that continuously occurred in Valhalla and throughout Asgard.

So it was a complete surprise to Vali when sometime after the turn of the first millennium, his Uncles Thor, Týr, and Forseti summoned Vali to Valhalla. With the aid of his half-brother, the half-wolf Fenrir, Vali was transformed into a wolf, and forced to attack his brother Narvi and tear his throat out as revenge for the death of his uncle Baldur. All this confused and hurt Vali. After the bloody violence, his wolf instincts ebbed and for a time Vali’s mind once again became his own. With anger at having been used and fear of what might happen next, Vali, still in the form of a wolf, used his heightened senses and increased agility to escape Asgard and disappear into the mainland forests of Eastern Europe.

Val had wandered and lived in what are now Romania and the Slavic nations for more years than he would ever know. In the form of the wolf that his family had forced him into, he found it difficult to remain self-aware and keep his rational mind separate from the instincts of a wolf. There were times when he had felt he had descended into madness; indeed there were spans of months and years when he had no recollections of what he did or where he went, other than living as any wolf would. Always, he eventually came back to himself, and was again aware of what he had been, how he had been used, and who he was.

It was El who had found him (or had sought him out; Val had never known which.) The strange man was tall and slender, with the healthy, shining, unlined complexion of a young man though his long hair was streaked with gray. Val soon learned that in the Canaanite or Levantine religions El had been a god known as the Father of humanity and all creatures, which gave him power somewhat greater than many of the former gods banging around different parts of the world. He wore well-cut robes of rich weave, which somehow never showed any sign of dirt or wear. El had befriended him and taught him how to use his own innate powers to return himself to his true human form.

Val stayed with El in a vacant charcoal maker’s cottage for longer than he probably knew. He learned to control his ability to transform into a wolf; a power inadvertently granted him when his clan had forced him into that shape. He also learned to change his form into that of other humans, including the opposite gender, an ability that Val shared with, and undoubtedly inherited from his father, Loki. The last thing he learned to control was his power to sway others to his will or way of thinking. These powers, as well as his good looks, were legacies of his mother, the Norse goddess Sigyn. Coupled with his natural charm, it made a powerful combination of assets.

Soon after Val had come into his legacy, El took leave of him. Val had no way to repay El for his aid; perhaps, as Val had pondered since, that was the way El had wanted it. With nothing more than a brief farewell, El vanished from Val’s life as quickly as he had entered it, leaving the cottage and a man in his debt. As Val spent more time in his natural human form, his memories again began to return to him in bits and pieces like falling leaves in early autumn.

As Val gathered information about his clan’s activities over the past several centuries of his self-imposed exile, he came to realize that much of his childhood memories did not match the common oral history and myths that had developed over the years. What wasn’t correct was that most of the Norse gods had been killed in the battle of Ragnarok, a great battle between the gods and their iniquitous enemies. What actually occurred was that the Norse gods, already having suffered many losses of worshippers to incursions by the Greek and Roman gods had again felt pressured by the followers of the Jewish god Jehovah, the Christians’ Jesus, and the Muslims Muhammad and Allah.

Realizing that the old ways were dying and that their time was at an end as it had been for many gods before them, the Norse gods had fought a rear-guard action and gone into hiding, letting everyone think that they had been destroyed. Some fled to unpopulated areas and disappeared. Others donned the guises and habits of mortals and melted into societies around the world. Many insinuated themselves into the Pantheons of tribes in South America and India, both of whom had many gods among which they could hide with a new identity.

Over the years he tried to figure out why El had helped him and what he might want. He had seen him and worked for him occasionally over the intervening centuries, usually when he was in a jam or needed money. It was never a pleasant task but Val had always done it as repayment of his debt.

Once his financial situation improved, he was back to his old ways of drinking, womanizing, and misappropriation of goods. Over the years, El had tried unsuccessfully to get Val to change his ways and settle down, but Val always claimed to be having too much fun. His idea of “fun” had caused him to remain drunk or hung over from the height of the Ottoman Empire to the War for Independence in what had been known as the New World. Val might not have been getting old, but his lifestyle was beginning to.

Val's last contact with El had been sometime in the late 1800’s. El had pulled him from a prison in the Ottoman Empire, sobered him up, and gave him a job to do by sending him to Egypt to destroy some of the evidence of the Egyptian gods which was being found by tomb raiders.

With that completed, El once again asked if Val was ready to settle down, going so far as to offer him employment at a “retreat” that El and some of his associates were setting up in America. Val refused once again and went his own way, but he did manage to stay sober for much of the next century. While not drinking, he was taking more and more risk with both women and property, getting in more and more trouble as the years passed.

____

Val returned to the present as the 777 began its descent into Kennedy. Whatever El wanted, it had to be tied to his situation. Whenever El came into his life He cramped Val's style.

As the plane rolled to a stop at the gate, Val ignored the flight attendants warnings and stood up, removing his carry-on from the overhead. As he was in first class, Val was among the first to the Jetway.

Stepping out into the concourse, Val paused and looked around. Seeing no familiar faces, he wondered what he was supposed to do next. Remembering what some people claiming to be followers of Muhammad had done in this very city several years ago, Val realized that no one would be allowed to meet him at the gate.

Cursing his forgetfulness, Val made his way to the terminal, his mind wandering back to how angry Allah must have been, knowing what people had done in his name. Val had never met him, but Allah had the reputation of a stern, serious, but loving God. Val chuckled as he walked. “Would've loved to have been a fly on the wall when THOSE guys got to Paradise” he muttered. “On second thought...maybe not.”

Val's musings were interrupted by his arrival at the terminal and the frantic waving of a homely little man - short and rather nondescript. The little man was almost jumping up and down to get Val's attention, as if Val hadn't seen his old friend almost immediately. The diminutive man was wearing an ill-fitting suit, although of much better weave and quality than Val had seen him wear before. It seemed as if his friend’s fortunes had taken a turn for the better since Val had last seen him. Val figured that there was only so much that could be done to clothe that unusual frame.

Val walked briskly up to his friend and encircled him in a warm hug. The little man was a foot shorter and 150 pounds lighter than Val and almost disappeared as Val's arms encircled him.

“Nice to see you again, Luk” Val stated as they drew apart. “It's been what, 70, 80 years since I last saw you up by the Black Sea?”

“Closer to a hundred, my friend” responded Luk. “But what are years to us?”
As they walked through the terminal, they used the time to catch up on what each had been doing over the last century.

“So it seems you have not settled down much, my friend.” said Luk, somewhat quietly.

“After my most recent excitement in Greece, I’m beginning to think that it’s time to find somewhere to lay low for a while” Val replied, somewhat half-heartedly.

“I think that is what Mr. Logan has in mind for you. As you may have heard, I am now working for him. Since, as you know, I have no special powers of my own, I do errands and special projects for him, which is why he sent me to meet you.”

They exited the terminal and walked to the pickup lane and a waiting black limousine with the requisite dark tinted windows. Luk introduced Val to Kemal, the driver. Kemal simply said hello and placed Val’s carry-on in the trunk, then opened the rear door for his passengers. Val thought he looked Middle Eastern; his accent sounded Turkish. He seemed vaguely familiar, though Val had spent very little of his wanderings in the Middle East.

“So, what have you and ‘Mr. Logan’ been doing here in New York?” asked Val nonchalantly.

“Mr. Logan and some of his associates have a rather plush hotel apartment building near Greenwich Village. The seventh floor is a boarding house and refuge for ‘people’ like you and I, as well as a base of entertainment for Mr. Logan and several of his associates. Your father Loki has been by a time or two and your uncle Thor stays there occasionally, that is when he’s not out doing his ‘superhero’ thing” Luk replied.

Val hoped that they wouldn’t come by during his stay. He and his family hadn’t really gotten along in the past. Fortunately they, like most of the Norse Pantheon, preferred the colder climates such as Scandinavia, Russia, Northern Canada, and Alaska.
The limo pulled up in front of a large building in the middle of the block. It was located right on the square. It had a brownstone facade which was weathered by age and city pollution. It was six stories tall, two floors taller than the next tallest building on the square. The non-existent seventh floor that Luk had mentioned didn’t surprise Val in the least.

Above the polished heavy oak front doors, two gargoyles perched on a ledge. They looked down at Val and quickly whispered to each other. Val smiled. Between the two gargoyles, carved into the stone, was the name Deety Arms. But part of the stone on one of the words had either worn or been chipped away, for the second “e” looked more like an “i” at first glance.

Val was amused at the name. ‘Very clever’ he thought.

Val and Luk entered the lobby of the building. The polished oak wainscoting and plush green carpet showed signs of old wealth. The hunter green wallpaper above the wainscoting reeked of money. The entire building was reminiscent of a far more opulent age.

Once inside, Val noticed a huge, well-built man who stood silently by a small desk. He was dressed in a doorman’s uniform of impeccable cut. It looked and fit like a thousand dollar suit. Val strode strait up to him with a menacing stride and what looked like anger in his visage. Luk stood frozen in place, a look of fear and dread of what was about to happen on his face.

Val raised his voice. “What’s a mangy SOB like you doing in such a nice hotel as this?!”

Luk looked like he was about to faint. No one talked to this giant of a man like that…not if he wanted to remain in one piece. Val was well-built, but the doorman was a monster.

Horace just looked the blond man up and down, and then replied “Well, they’ll let anyone in this place. There goes the neighborhood.” His face broke into a big grin. He stuck out one meaty hand. “How ya doin, Val?”
Luk visibly relaxed. He looked as if he were about to fall down. It became obvious he was witnessing a reunion of two old friends.

Val shook Horace’s hand with vigor. “I haven’t seen you since we cleaned up that mess that you and your family left in Alexandria.”

“I told you” Horace replied, “We were still being worshipped when we lived in that part of Egypt. How were we to know the evidence that we existed wasn’t destroyed in the fire that wiped out the library along with most of the city? Hell, half the knowledge of the world of that time was destroyed in that blaze.”

Val and Horace quickly got caught up in the generalities of what each had been doing lately. Val soon realized that someone else had entered the room. They both turned and recognized El at once. “We’ll catch up over mead later” Horace muttered.

Val stepped toward El.

El was still tall and slender, Val noticed and though his skin was still that of a young man, his hair was white and cut very short, unlike the long, salt and pepper that he had had when they first met. A new look for him, Val mused, since neither of them would show signs of ageing if they didn’t want to. The dark charcoal suit the man wore was very expensive and like Horace’s uniform, was obviously perfectly tailored to his slender frame. He stared at Val with intense steel blue eyes.

”I am glad that you decided to take me up on my offer,” said El quietly.

Val replied “It’s good to see you again, El…or should I call you Mr. Logan?”

“Mr. Logan will do fine here, though there is no reason to be so formal when it is just us.”
“Just what is it that you do here, El? Luk was a little vague on the details”

“Why, we have fun, Val.” El responded with a smile. “There are quite a few of us living here on the seventh floor. Many have businesses and other pursuits in the general vicinity. I have provided you with a rather nice suite of rooms here. The balcony used to overlook the Grand Canyon; I have taken the liberty of diverting it to view a rather beautiful fjord in Norway. I think you’ll find it rather homey.”

“Very much appreciated, El.” Val replied gratefully. “I could definitely use a little down time. I think it would be good to have a little R and R, especially until things cool down for a while.”

“If you are referring to the ‘gentleman’ in South Florida, don’t worry. I have prepared some special plans for him” El replied with a slight smirk.

“How appropriate” Val said with a wry grin. “Thank you.”

“Not at all, my old friend. I’ll let you get settled in. We’ll have dinner soon and catch up with each other. Your rooms are next door to Trick’s.”

“Trick?”

“He’s known here as T Rick Running Bear, hence ‘Trick’. You know him as The Trickster or as some of the Native Americans call him, Loki. He owns the Southwestern Grill down the block.”

“I remember him” mused Val. “Not only does he share his name with my Father, they’re in the same line of work, so to speak. Although he isn’t quite as disagreeable as my dear old Dad.”
“Precisely” El replied with a smile. “Though generally a nice guy, he does like to have his fun, too.”

“Have a good evening, El” said Val. Luk showed Val up to his rooms and helped him get comfortable. The rooms and the décor were lavish. The furniture was oversized and rugged; heavy log construction was dominant. It reminded Val of his home when he was growing up. The bar and the walk-in clothes closet were both well-stocked. As Luk said his goodbyes and politely took his leave, Val muttered aloud “This is just what I needed. I think I’m gonna like it here.”
____

As the week went by, Val began to settle in and get comfortable. He transferred some funds from one of his numerous offshore bank accounts to purchase a four story parking garage a block away from the square. With three storefronts on the street and three shop bay doors on the alley around the side, it was well-suited to Val’s needs. It even had several parking spaces in the alley, a rare find in the area. Two of the stores were rented to a bakery and a head shop, both run by some of his neighbors on the seventh floor of Deity Arms. The parking garage entrance was by the rear in the alley. ‘I’ll open my shop in the third office with the garage, and I can use some of the parking for my cars.’ thought Val. The monthly parking rent will be $500 to $600. At the very least, the building will be a good investment.’

“Val seems to be settling in quite nicely,” said L to Mr. Luk. “I think it is time to show him what we do here for fun.”

____

“Where in the hell am I?” I thought angrily. I had been driving around the city for about an hour, trying to find my soon-to-be ex-wife’s lawyers office. I wasn’t used to driving in the city; I usually took the train and subway from my house in Connecticut to my office on Wall Street. My former house, that is. The settlement on the house would be this Friday. That’s right; I am a stock broker, and a fairly successful one at that. I am 45 years old, Vice President and well on my way to becoming the youngest junior partner at Livingston and Martin, a small but successful brokerage house. I was Aiden Brookstone the III, and I fancied myself a powerbroker.
At 32, I had put together one of the most successful stock deals in Wall Street history, making a fortune for some of our clients and quite a commission for myself. I had invested that commission wisely so that by now I had parlayed it into a tidy nest egg that was approaching the $7 million mark. More than half of that would go to my ex-wife. Much of what remained of my share had gone to the purchase of a condo in Manhattan. I was sick of the commute from suburbia. Besides, what better place for a newly eligible bachelor than the heart of the Big Apple? Having been away from the dating game since I was 24, I was looking forward to playing the field again.

Not that my marriage had always been bad. Sylvia and I had been college sweethearts, marrying right after I graduated with an MBA from The Wharton School of Business. Sylvia had majored in Nursing in college. My parents had died just after my high school graduation, leaving me just enough money to complete my Bachelor’s Degree in Business. Sylvia went to work at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania as a nurse to put me through graduate school.

After graduating near the top of my class and getting the job at Livingston, we were able to move to a modest house on Long Island, with me taking the train to the city each day. By mutual consent, Sylvia quit her job and we settled down to start a family. It was not to be. After several years and a few miscarriages, the doctors said any more attempts to get pregnant could have detrimental effects on Sylvia’s health.

By this time my career was taking off and we had moved to a large house in a Greenwich, Connecticut. Sylvia was more disappointed about not being able to have children than I was. As a result, she threw herself into volunteer and civic organizations in order to fill the hole she perceived in her life. She began drinking more, spending many two, three or more martini lunches with the upper-crust ladies at the country club. The more she drank, the more she took her frustrations out on me. To escape, I spent more and more time at work. Everything became my fault; not having kids, not being around, and not taking her out to dinner and to see shows in the city. I began to drink more as well. The more I worked and drank, the more she nagged. It was a vicious cycle.

I don’t know why we stayed married for the last 10 years. That isn’t entirely true. We were codependent. I liked to maintain the impression of a happy marriage and a happy life for my career; Sylvia liked her high standard of living and the big house. I think the reason that Sylvia picked now to file for divorce was due to the fact that one of her friends was a high profile divorce attorney and she convinced Sylvia that she could finally take me for enough money to maintain the standard of living to which she had become accustomed.

So here I was, in Manhattan traffic at rush hour, trying to find Sylvia’s attorney’s office in order to finalize our divorce and sign over four and a half million dollars to her. Oh well, at least she wasn’t asking for alimony. Another lady in her ‘Lunch Bunch’ was going to invest her share of the money, leaving her with some capital and a tidy monthly stipend that would keep her happy.

I wasn’t totally destitute. I paid cash for the condo and still had a couple of hundred thousand in the bank. We had sold all of our assets and investments in order to settle the divorce. But hey, wasn’t I still Aiden Brookstone, Powerbroker? I still had my job and a bright future. I could rebuild my fortune and still retire early. That is, if my ulcer or a heart attack didn’t get me first.
Now where was I? I had passed a street sign that said ‘8th Street’ a few blocks back. Across the intersection was the West 4th Street subway station. I was in Greenwich Village? How did I get here? I was way off course. I went a few more blocks and made a couple of turns, thinking I needed to turn south. I wasn’t sure; as I said, I hardly ever drove in Manhattan.
Just as I was about to stop for directions, my pride and joy, a BMW B12 5.7 Coupe which had never given me a problem, started to buck and pitch, a strange noise coming from under the hood. I could have afforded a newer BMW; I loved the sleek, modern design of the I8, but a 1.5-liter three-cylinder hybrid wasn’t my idea of a real engine. I was in love with the sound and the performance of the V12. This was a custom car based on the 850CSi, with the 5.7-liter S70 V12 engine producing 416 HP with a 6-speed manual gearbox. I know a lot about cars, but not much about maintaining them, but I knew enough to see that I wasn’t going to make it much further.

Right before I reached the next block, I saw a sign on the corner of a building that said “Val’s European Autohaus” in yellow and blue letters. Smaller print stated that they specialized in German cars, with all the major European automaker’s logos prominently displayed. There was an arrow pointing to the wide alley next to the building.

There were three large garage bay doors, all wide open to admit the early summer breeze. As I pulled up, a man who looked like a mechanic waved me into the middle bay. As I shut off the car and got out, the tall, blond mechanic put out his hand and said “Hi, I’m Val. From the sound of that car I figured we better get it right inside; it might not have restarted if you parked it outside.” He spoke with just the slightest hint of a Scandinavian accent; like a man who had been away from the Motherland for a long time.

I looked at Val after receiving his firm but not crushing handshake. He was a tall, well-built man, about six three or six four, 240 to 250 pounds and not an ounce of it looked like fat. He had shoulder length blond hair and eyes the blue color of a glacier in the far north. Though I was thoroughly heterosexual, even a man could see that he was handsome, with a bright smile. I bet he had women eating out of his hand. With a crew-cut, he could have been on a recruiting poster from World War II Germany. I hoped he knew his cars like a German.

“I’m Aiden Brookstone” I said, glancing around at his immaculate garage. As I said, the shop had three bay doors, but each was two bays deep, leaving room for six cars with an office and work area off to one side. Three mechanics were working diligently on a Mercedes, another BMW, and a Saab. In the back bays were a Ferrari and a Lamborghini. There was another car under a cover that seemed to have exotic lines as well.

“If you’d like to grab a cup of coffee and have a seat in the lounge,” Val said as he motioned to a nearby door “We’ll take a look at your Beemer. It sounds like some kind of fuel problem.”

“Thanks,” I replied as I walked towards the lounge. I was barely able to keep my temper. A quick glance at the wall clock made me realize I was already late for the lawyer. Sylvia was going to be pissed. I pulled out my cell and tried to dial but the screen was blank. As I tried to turn it on, I realized the battery was dead. “Just great’ I muttered to myself. My whole life was on that smart phone. I didn’t even have Sylvia’s cell number memorized. Come to think of it, I couldn’t even remember the name of the law firm her attorney worked for. I could feel my ulcer churning. I popped a couple of Tums that I kept in my pocket for that purpose.

I had the address in the GPS in the car. I could always take a cab, something I should have done in the first place. ‘Screw it’ I said to myself. ‘The bitch will just have to wait until tomorrow to get my money’.

I chilled out with my coffee on the very comfortable leather couch, leafing through this month’s issue of European Car magazine and barely listening to CNN on the widescreen TV. Looking around, I realized that Val was running a pretty successful business here. I wondered how he ran the whole place without a receptionist to take care of things for him. The lounge was well-appointed in dark wood, leather, and plush carpeting. There was even a little kitchenette with a coffeemaker, fridge, microwave, and vending machines. It was very clean. Come to think of it, the entire operation was cleaner and better run than any shop I had seen before. It was even nicer than the dealer I had been to when buying my BMW.

After waiting about a half-hour, Val came through the door, smiling. He seemed like a very happy person. Of course he would be, considering what I was probably paying him.

“Well, I was right” Val said. “It seems it was your fuel pump making that noise. It wasn’t letting enough fuel to the engine to keep it moving when you pressed the accelerator. You’re lucky it didn’t quit entirely before you got here.”

“So do you have a fuel pump here?” I asked hopefully.

“Not for that car. There just aren’t enough of them around to justify keeping parts for them in stock. I can special order one for you overnight and have it here by ten. I’ll have you back on the road by lunchtime”

“I guess that’ll have to do.” I replied dejectedly. “I’ll have to get a hotel for the night; my condo won’t be ready until Friday and I can’t see taking the train or a cab back to Connecticut this late, only to come all the way back tomorrow.”

Val looked at me like he was looking into my soul, then made a suggestion. “A good friend of mine runs an apartment hotel right around the corner. You want me to give him a call and see if he has any vacancies?”

“That would be great” I said gratefully. I didn’t really feel like taking a cab to one of the hotels farther downtown. This way, I could get up, eat breakfast somewhere, and pick up some fresh underwear, socks, and maybe a clean shirt.

Val walked over to the small desk near the office door and picked up the phone, quickly dialing the number. “Hey Luk, it’s Val. Is L around? Okay, I’ll wait. L, its Val. I have a customer here whose car won’t be ready until tomorrow; you have any rooms…any ‘special’ rooms available? Okay, I see. I’m sure that’ll be fine. Thanks, I appreciate it. How about lunch tomorrow? Noon’s fine. See you then. Thanks again.”

“He said he doesn’t have any hotel room vacancies, but he does have a couple of rooms that belong to residents that are out of town, and he has an arrangement with them to rent out the rooms while they’re gone. Fully furnished, of course.”

“That’ll be fine” I said thankfully. It did sound very convenient.

“It’s just a few blocks. Go up the alley to the street, turn right and go one block, then right again and it’s two blocks on the left, right on the square. It’s called Deety Arms. You can’t miss it. It’s a brownstone; the tallest building on the square. It’s quite nice. I even live there. I have a suite on the seventh floor.”

“Thanks again; I really appreciate it. If you need me, you can call me there. My cell phone is dead. I’ll come by tomorrow about eleven”

“See you then. If you want breakfast, try the Southwest Grill across the square. The food’s great; tell the owner I sent you. He’s a friend of mine.”
As I left to walk to Deety Arms, I thought to myself ‘This guy is certainly well-connected, but it is a nice little neighborhood.’ If only I had known.

____

I found Deety Arms without any problems. I stood in front of a large building in the middle of the block, its brownstone facade weathered by age and city pollution. It rose six stories above the pavement, making it by two floors the tallest building on the square. ‘Six floors?’ I pondered. ‘I thought this Val guy said he lived on the seventh floor?’ I wrote it off as being tired from the stress of a long day. Above the polished heavy oak front doors, two gargoyles perched on a ledge. ‘Perfect touch,’ I thought. ‘Makes the place a little eerier than ever’ I already had goose-bumps forming on my arms. ‘The place was already giving me the creeps. Forget it; there’s nothing unusual about the place.’

Between the gargoyles, carved into the stone, were two words: Deety Arms. But part of the stone on one of the words had either worn or been chipped away, for the second ‘e’ looked more like an ‘I’ at first glance.

I entered the building. Instead of a tired old lobby with Gothic overtones and deep shadows, I was met by a brightly lit scene of near opulence. The polished oak wainscoting and plush green carpet in the lobby shouted old wealth. Even the hunter green wallpaper above the wainscoting reeked of money with its raised, silk-like surface. A long hallway was off to one side. The path displayed a series of doors, each made of wood below and frosted glass above, like the old run-down office buildings around the city. But this place wasn’t run down. Everything looked new and polished. It was like stepping back into a simpler time, like 1930’s opulence and décor.

By a small desk a mountain of a man stood silently. He was dressed in a doorman’s uniform of impeccable cut, resembling a businessman in a thousand dollar suit from my firm, rather than the ill-fitting suits on dumpy little men who served as Doormen in most of the city’s apartment hotels. I surmised that he acted as Security as well as a doorman. I got the impression that anyone starting trouble in Deety Arms would be handled roughly and without difficulty. His tasteful gold named tag identified him as ‘Horace’.
Then there was the janitor. He was the exact opposite. Short, sort of homely and dumpy in a nondescript sort of way, he carefully polished the wainscoting in the lobby. I caught a look at his name embroidered on his tan coveralls: ‘Lucky’. ‘Yeah right.’ He looked like he had nothing but a string of bad luck in his lifetime. He was a homely little man – no more than 5’ 6” tall, chubby and rather nondescript and frankly I doubted if a thousand dollar suit would have made him look any better.

I was ushered into a suite of offices decorated much like the lobby. I wasn’t sure exactly what I had been expecting, but what I saw could have passed for offices anywhere in the world. Attractive young secretaries sat at neat workstations, their eyes never leaving the screens of their computers, while young executives in neat business suits studied documents or talked on the phones in small, tasteful offices. Some were entering and leaving through an archway connecting the hotel to the office building next door.

I was led into an office that was by far the largest, situated at the far end of the suite with windows overlooking the square. There was a man seated at the large, carved wooden desk that dominated the tasteful furnishings of the room. Once again, everything in the room smelled of old money.

The man was tall and slender, his face a series of contrasts. His skin and build were those of a young man in the very prime of life, but his hair was completely white, cut closer than current styles would dictate. And his eyes... the steel blue eyes seemed older than dirt, as if this man had seen it all. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, obviously tailored specifically for his narrow frame by a professional tailor at one of the better shops in the Fifth Avenue Garment district. His shirt, tie and shoes had been selected with impeccable taste. I suspected the clothing on his back cost more than most people made in a month. He was obviously a man of sophisticated interests. Yet there was an air of mystery about him, as if seeing him was only seeing the very tip of an iceberg.

“Mr. Brookstone, allow me to introduce our landlord, Mr. Logan.” Horace said in introduction. As the man rose and walked around the desk, I noticed that Mr. Logan carried himself with the poise and dignity of a man who is in charge and knows it - and doesn’t have to flaunt it. And as I was to learn later, I didn’t know the half of it. Although not extremely tall, he was taller than I was at six feet, and his bearing was one of a being who saw no threat from me.
He offered me a firm handshake. “Welcome to Deity Arms.” His voice was deep and cultured, lacking any trace of the harsh New York accent I would have expected. There was a twinkle in his steel blue eyes that hid the gaze of a predator. He was obviously a man of sophisticated interests. Yet there was an air of mystery about him, as if seeing him was only seeing the very tip of an iceberg. He carried himself with the poise and dignity of a man who is in charge and knows it - and doesn’t have to flaunt it. “I think you will find our accommodations more than sufficient to your needs. I think over time you will find yourself quite comfortable here.”

“I only need the room for one night.” I replied. “I’ll be picking up my car in the morning and be on my way.”

“We’ll see,” said Mr. Logan enigmatically. “Mr. Luk will see you to your room.” He returned to the desk and began looking over some paperwork.

‘That’s odd,’ I thought, feeling dismissed. Everything about this place felt strange. Lucky led me out and to a pair of elevators whose doors were covered with bronze stamped with a scene of Greek or Roman gods; probably Roman, thinking back on the mythology classes I had taken as a U Penn undergrad. These too, like the rest of the lobby, were polished to a fine luster.

We got out on the third floor and walked to a room on the right, facing the front of the building.

“I am sorry for the feminine décor and the full closets,” apologized Luk, looking ashamed. “The apartment belongs to a local receptionist who is out of town for a few weeks. The rooms we sublet for our long-term residents are emptied of all but the furniture; however all are currently occupied”

“It’ll be fine” I replied. “I’m only staying for one night and I don’t have any clothes anyway.”

“Of course” said Lucky with a smile that seemed to mean that he knew more than I did. “We will see you in the morning.”

I opted not to go out to eat. Even though it was only eight o’clock and I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch, I was feeling rather tired. I decided to have a look around before watching some TV and going to bed.

The apartment was not particularly large; just one bedroom, a bathroom, living room, and an eat-in kitchen. The rooms were somewhat spacious for a New York apartment. The furniture was all rather nice, though very feminine and not particularly expensive. Still, this apartment anywhere in Manhattan, much less The Village, seemed like it would be well beyond the means of a receptionist, no matter how well-paid she was.

The bathroom was full of skincare products and cosmetics. There was even a hair dryer hanging on a hook by the sink. ‘What kind of woman goes away for two weeks and doesn’t take all this stuff with her?’ I wondered absently.

I took a peek in the ample closet. On the left side were quite a number of professional looking but sexy skirt-suits of various colors and styles. I realized from my married life that they were just what a young, attractive professional woman would wear to work. Size 6, I saw, taking a peek at a tag. Whoever she is, she has a nice body and isn’t afraid to show it. There were also a couple of pantsuits, dress pants, business style dresses, and many stylish blouses. The casual part of the wardrobe was dominated by short skirts and dresses. Both the floor and shelves were full of shoes of all styles and colors, dominated by high-heeled dress shoes.

I wasn’t so nosy that I peeked in the dresser and bureau drawers. I had already satisfied my curiosity about the tenant by looking in the closet. I turned on the television and watched a little bit of news, then settled in to catch Letterman. I always thought he should have gotten Leno’s job. Shortly after it was over, I turned off the TV and got ready for bed.

I used a toothbrush that I had gotten at the front desk to brush my teeth, and washed up using some of the bodywash that was in the shower. It had a vaguely floral scent, but it wasn’t too bad. Since I usually just sleep in my boxers and t-shirt, I had no need for pajamas, not that I would have had any, anyway.

I turned down the sheets and crawled into bed. The comforter still had a trace of the young ladies perfume. I don’t know much about perfume, but it smelled expensive. As I inhaled her scent, I thought ‘At least she has good taste.’

____

I didn’t seem to sleep very deeply that night. Usually after a 12 to 14 hour workday and a couple of Scotches, I sleep like a log. It wasn’t that I actually woke up throughout the night; it was more like I went from dream to dream all night long, not fully waking between each.

In the first dream it seemed that I was still lying in this same bed, in the same room, but I was not alone. It appeared to me that two shapes were standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me. I thought I heard Mr. Logan’s voice say “She will be superb, Vali. You have done a fantastic job for only having done a few transformations since I taught you a few centuries ago.”

“Thank you, El” said the voice of Val, the shop owner that had my Beemer. “You were always a good teacher, although I was never a star pupil.”

‘What were Mr. Logan and Val doing in my room?’ I wondered before falling deeper into sleep.

The next dream was even stranger. I noticed two shapes outside my window that appeared to be the gargoyles that should be perched on the front of the building. ‘What were they doing at my window?’ I wondered.
____

“Look out, Grimcost! I think she saw me.”

“But Garmon, I wanna see too.” They spoke in deep, guttural tones, and with a New York accent, no less.

The creature shrugged, refolded its wings and scooted over a bit to make room.

“She couldn’t see you, though,” Grimcost growled, side-stepping toward the other gargoyle. “They never wake up during L’s transformations.”

Garmon rasped “But L didn’t transform this one; that new Scandinavian god did.”

“You mean Vali? So what?” said Grimcost irritably. “I heard Horace tell Luk that L taught Val all about using his power years ago. ‘…brought him into his own’ is what Horace said.

Garmon wasn’t so sure. “But it’s not like L did it himself.”

“You worry too much,” muttered Grimcost. “L stood by watching the whole time. He wouldn’t let anything happen. Besides, look at her; she’s gonna be great!”

“I guess.” Said Garmon somewhat reluctantly. “Do you think she’ll talk to us and tell us stories like Bridget did?” There was a childish excitement in his raspy voice.

“I doubt it. There aren’t many ladies like Bridget. Besides, L wasn’t too happy with us giving ourselves away. We’re supposed to just watch the building.”

“Aw, Horace can handle anything that comes up; he doesn’t need to sleep anyway.” Gorman continued excitedly. “C’mon, let’s go to the back and tell Gorm and Grim about her. They never get to see much of anything.” He spread his wings and took off with the second gargoyle hot on his heels.

I fell back into a deep sleep.

____

The early morning sun from the window falling on my face woke me. Not moving, I just laid there, trying to remember my strange dreams the night before. I still felt tired, like I had been up all night. My body seemed a little sore and my muscles felt different.

As I rolled over and sat up, my body shifted strangely; my equilibrium and center of gravity seemed strange to me. At the same time I was pondering this, the sheet and comforter fell away from my chest. Though not understanding, I instantly knew why my body felt and looked different. I had breasts! Big breasts on my OWN chest! I was in shock. “What the fuck?!” It came out as a higher pitched, feminine gasp.

I panicked, pulling the blanket away from the rest of my body. As I did so, I noticed that my arms were slender, almost hairless, and ended in smaller hands with delicate fingers with longer, feminine shaped nails. I felt a silky, soft tickle on my neck and back. Reaching up, I drew a handful of dark, almost black hair, with just a touch of auburn. It was thick and lustrous and cascaded over my shoulders to the small of my back.

“Oh my God,” I gasped again, still amazed at the female-sounding voice. “This isn’t possible; it can’t be happening.” But it was.

I reached down between my legs, knowing from the emptiness what I would find…or more importantly what I wouldn’t find. A vagina, my vagina. On MY body. I couldn’t see it because it was positioned farther between my legs than my old equipment and because of those enormous breasts on my chest. I realized later that they weren’t really that huge, but I never wanted breasts of any size on my own body.
I began to try to calm myself down; I was beginning to hyperventilate. ‘You’ve got to think, Aiden’ I said to myself while taking, slow, deep breaths. Bits and pieces of my dreams were slowly coming back to me. ‘Val…and Mr. Logan…had they done this to me? How is that even possible? It isn’t, but it happened. They were both in my dreams. Hadn’t they said ‘She’ and ‘Her’? Had they used any other feminine pronouns? What is going on?’

My once again rising panic was interrupted as I realized my ‘new’ body was trying to tell me something. I had to pee.

Standing up a little unsteadily, I made my way to the bathroom, very aware of the sway of my hips and breasts. My ass felt wider and softer too. Even my skin was softer.

As I pulled down my boxers, which were almost falling off me anyway, I noticed that I had long, slender, very shapely legs. They were hairless. ‘Well, at least I won’t have to shave them anytime soon’ I thought gratefully, with a shudder.

While I was thinking all this, I suddenly realized that I had peed then wiped myself without even thinking of it. It was automatic, like I was on autopilot or something. It wasn’t like I had been in a trance or anything like that. I remembered the strange sensation of peeing; it was more like a flow than a guided stream. I also remembered wiping like I had been doing it all my life, like I instinctively knew what to do without even thinking about it.

I stood and padded into the bedroom. The clock on the wall said 7AM. I had to see Mr. Logan right away. I remembered him saying he would be in at eight. How could I go out looking like this? Somehow I knew that he and Val were responsible for my predicament. I couldn’t call; I didn’t know the phone number of the hotel. My pants with Val’s business card were nowhere to be seen. My dress shirt and shoes were missing as well. Not that they would fit me in this body.

This damn body. I needed to find something to wear. Standing in front of the mirror, I removed my t-shirt and let my boxers fall to the carpet. For the first time I saw this body fully nude. It was a magnificent body. It was average height for a woman, about 5’6”, but it made me feel extremely short compared to my usual 6’0”. The breasts were high and firm, perfectly formed, with half-dollar sized aureole and pencil eraser sized nipples.

This woman I had become…this girl, maybe; she appeared to be in her early twenties. Her skin was light and smooth. Not so pale that it would easily sunburn, but soft with just a hint of color. Her waist was smaller than average, especially in proportion to her ample chest. It appeared to be about 22-23 inches. The hips were quite a bit wider, but once again perfectly proportioned; they were probably about 34 inches.

The face was perfection. It had fine, symmetrical features with large green eyes and long, thick lashes that would never need curling. The eyebrows traced a high, slender, feminine arch. The lips were full and pink; the teeth white and perfectly strait. The nose was just the right shape and size with a slightly upturned tip. If I had still been a man, this was a woman that I would have gladly given my left nut to spend the rest of my life with.

‘If I were still a man…?!’ I WAS a man, at least inside. I simply had to find a way to force Mr. Logan to return me to my old body. There had to be a way. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that anyone with the power to do this to me was not someone to piss off. From his demeanor last night, he was a man who was used to getting his way. Perhaps I should try to appeal to his better nature, if he had one. After all, I was healthy and younger. Anyone with the power to do what had been done to me could always make it worse, couldn’t he?

I stopped looking at this incredible body when I got to the long, well-defined legs. I had to stop looking at it and get myself together. Just staring at my (my?) body was making my nipples start to get erect and causing a warmth to spread between my legs. I had to stop this.

What to wear? Upon going through the closet last night, I had spied several pairs of jeans. I quickly grabbed a pair and went back to the dresser. Opening the top drawer, I noticed that it contained bras. Well, I was going to need one of those, I thought with another shudder; I can’t go downstairs with these two things bouncing all around my chest. There seemed to be every color of the rainbow in all types of fabric, lacy, silky, satin, scalloped, it went on and on. Most of them seemed to be of the underwire and pushup types. I guess I did need the support, but I certainly didn’t want to be pushed up out of my shirt, with cleavage for everyone to see. Hell, I didn’t even want them at all!

I eventually settled for the plainest one I could find. It had no frills or decorations of any kind and it was a front close like my ex used to wear occasionally. That should make it a little easier. The only drawback (aside from needing and wearing a bra at all!) was that it was a smooth, satin fabric and that it was peach-colored. I did notice that the tag said ‘36C’. ‘Not gigantic,’ I thought’ but large enough to be noticed and appreciated by men. I groaned. The last thing I wanted was to be ogled by hoards of horny guys. I was able to get it around me, connected the clasp, and adjusted the cups. It was snug but it felt good to reduce the jiggling.

That done, I moved on to the second drawer, which as I correctly surmised, contained underwear, or should I say panties. Once again, there was a multitude of colors and fabrics, at least two styles for each color that even my male brain realized would match the color of at least one bra. ‘It makes sense,’ I thought logically. ‘My ex always liked to wear matching bras and panties.

I sorted through and found the peach colored panties, figuring I may as well match too. The two peach panties I could find turned out to be a tiny satin thong or a pair of low rise boyshorts. The boyshorts might be cut a lot different, but at least they were a similar style to what I was used to. Yeah, right! I pulled them up over my well-rounded ass and they fit as snugly as a second skin.

Having conquered women’s undergarments, I felt confident I could dress casually. I grabbed a scrunchie from the dresser and put my hair into a ponytail to make it easier to put on the smaller women’s t-shirt I had found in the third drawer. After donning the shirt, I still had to pull my ponytail out of it.

Next came the jeans. How hard can it be? As a man, I wore jeans all the time. What I failed to take into consideration was the differences in a woman’s body and the styles they wore. Sitting on the bed, I put one leg at a time into the jeans, then stood and pulled them over my thighs. It was when I got them up to my ass that I ran into trouble. Just getting them up to my waist was a struggle. I pulled and tugged on one side then the other, gaining an inch at a time. I had to lie back on the bed as I had seen women do just to get them buttoned. I stood and looked in the mirror.

I had thought that with a ponytail, no makeup, and jeans and a tee, it would at least make me androgynous, but I could see I was sadly mistaken. This face didn’t need makeup, the hair was still obvious, and no clothes, especially these jeans, could do anything to hide these curves. Even trying to dress down, this body I had still looked like a million bucks. No way was I leaving this room wearing these painted on jeans.

Getting them off was almost as difficult as putting them on. I reached into the bottom drawer and grabbed a gray NYU sweatshirt and the only pair of sweatpants I could find. Unfortunately they were pink…and had a big P-I-N-K lettered across the ass. What did I expect; the underwear drawers looked like a Victoria’s Secret store, why wouldn’t I expect this young girl to buy her sweatpants there too?

The clock said it was almost eight. Time to go. I took one last look in the mirror at myself. ‘What was I DOING?’ I muttered with exasperation. I was checking the mirror to see how I looked. “I look like a damn girl!” Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a chauvinist. I love and respect women. I just never wanted to be one.

I grabbed the room key off the nightstand and went out the door. I wasn’t looking forward to meeting with Mr. Logan. Yes, I wanted to get my own body back, but deep down I was afraid of what he might do to me if I angered him.

I walked down the hall to the elevator, feeling self-conscious the whole time. As the door opened, I was glad to notice that there was no one inside. I didn’t want to have to try to make small talk with some stranger, or worse yet to be ogled or hit on.

Walking into the lobby, I was grateful that it was empty. Horace looked up from his small desk, then rose with a greeting. “Good morning, Miss Brooks.”

I was confused. “Who is Miss…?” I managed to stutter. “I mean, is that my name now?”

“What’s in your wallet?” Horace asked with a pleasant smile.

It was a friendly smile, but I wanted to wipe it off his face. Inside I giggled. (Since when do I giggle? I had never giggled in my life). Even if I wasn’t stuck in this weaker, female body, I had never been large or strong enough to wipe the smile off of Horace’s huge visage.

“I need to see Mr. Logan right away” I stammered, amazed at how meek I was sounding. I wanted to be forceful and strong like I had been before, master of my destiny. Now I just wanted my destiny not to include skirts. I have always been a good judge of character. From the impression I got of Mr. Logan, he was a man that was used to doing exactly as he pleased.

“Mr. Luk,” Horace turned and asked, “Will you see if Mr. Logan will see our Miss Brooks this morning?”

I turned around to see Lucky standing behind me in the lobby; I was positive he hadn’t been there when I arrived, and there was no way he could have walked up behind me without my hearing him. Today he was wearing a cheap, ill-fitting suit rather than his coveralls, although the problem of fit appeared to be his build more than the suit. I doubted if Brooks Brothers suit would have made him look distinguished.

Lucky led me back to the suite of offices belonging to the mysterious Mr. Logan. He opened the office door and I saw Mr. Logan seated at the desk, a pile of paperwork in front of him. He was on the telephone and motioned me into the chair across from him. I sat in the comfortable leather, briefly wondering where I could get chairs like this for my office. If I still had an office, that is.

Mr. Logan continued with his conversation. “Yes, things are proceeding as planned. I think she will be arriving this morning. You’re welcome. I’ll see you for lunch.” Mr. Logan returned the phone to its cradle.

He looked up at me with a stern but not unfriendly expression on his face. “What can I do for you, Miss Brooks?”

I felt a small bit of my confidence returning. “You can start by not calling me that.” I stated. “I am Aiden BrookSTONE. You have to return me to my old body and my old life.” I had tried to make it sound stern and forceful, but with my feminine voice, it came out more like a plea.

“I have to do nothing of the sort,” Mr. Logan said with a slight smile. “Your name is now Patricia Brooks, Trish to your friends.”

“But I have a life! I put together million dollar stock deals!” I was almost crying in desperation now.

“You had a life,” Mr. Logan responded. “The life you now have is that of Patricia Brooks. You dropped out of college after two years, determined to leave upstate New York and become a model in the Big City. Unfortunately for you, your body is rather too, shall we say ‘well-endowed’ to be a successful model in an industry that prizes flat-chested, waiflike young ladies. With your attractive looks, you attempted to become an actress, however you do not have quite enough acting skills to have any success in an industry that rewards only the most talented of performers.”

“I still have my financial skills.” I declared. “I can go back to Wall Street and make my living there.”

“How will you do that?” asked Mr. Logan. “You are now a young woman with little education whose only work history is a night waitress at a local diner. Your family is dead, so you cannot go back upstate.”

I was crestfallen and hung my head, staring at my smaller hands in my lap. I noticed my long fingernails had the white tips of a French manicure. I knew when I was defeated.

“Don’t look so sad. I’ll make a deal with you; something I rarely do. I will give you a somewhat more professional job. You will do it to the best of your ability. You will live in the body and life that you have been given. You will behave and dress appropriately as Trish Brooks in every way. At the end of one month you may return to this office and we will see how you feel about it all”

“And if I don’t?” I asked with the last of my defiance.

“Then your rent for the apartment will be due at the end of the month. Although rent-controlled and reasonable as that rent might be, you will not be able to continue staying here. I can assure you, life on the street, and most likely prostitution, will be a far worse fate. To make this easier on you, I will make it so you won’t menstruate or get pregnant for the month.”

Periods. I hadn’t thought of that. As for pregnancy, I had no intentions of exploring this body with a man. I realized I had no choice. I must live and act the role of Trish Brooks for the next month. I only hoped that Logan was wrong about my lack of acting skills and I could be convincing for the next 30 days. It felt as if I had received prison time. At least if I could do this, it wouldn’t be a life sentence.

“You are the receptionist and secretary for Val’s European Autohaus. Get ready for work, have breakfast, and report to work by 11AM.”

“I work for Val?” I groaned. “He is in league with you.”

“Actually he is responsible for your transformation. I only helped. You see, his business has become more successful than he expected, and he is in need of an assistant.”

“Why have you done this to me?” I pleaded.

“Well, it is fun, of course. I assure you, had you come in here yelling and making demands, life on the street would have been your lot. I am very glad you did not. This way will be much more interesting, and Val’s requirements are fulfilled.

I was dismissed. I stood and left the office, going through the lobby to the waiting elevator with only a nod to Horace and Lucky. I realized that they were both a part of this charade.
____

When I got back to my room I threw myself on the bed and cried. As a man, I hadn’t cried since I was a young boy, but I realized that this body was awash with female hormones and I couldn’t help it. I had to admit it was cathartic.

When I finally stopped sobbing, I did feel better. Looking at the clock, I was stunned to see it was only 8:30. I had been lying in bed for at least a half-hour. That meant that my conversation with Logan, which had seemed to take a half-hour, had taken virtually no time at all. I guess for beings such as I had been thrown in with, messing with time was no difficulty whatsoever.

I didn’t want any additional magical transformations in my life. Yes, I was beginning to realize that it was magic that had done this to me. I was even developing a theory regarding these ‘beings’ I had been surrounded by since the change. At least I would have plenty of time to get ready for work. I was sure it would take much longer to prepare than it had in my male body.

I walked to the bathroom, realizing that I had no idea how to prepare for the day. I figured I would start with a shower. That part couldn’t be that much different as a woman than it was as a man. I realized that I had to pee again. My female body must have a much smaller bladder than before the change. The urge to go was also more pronounced than it had been. I sat on the toilet, realizing that I would miss my ‘parts’ as much for going to the bathroom as I might for ‘other things’. The thought made the absence between my legs more pronounced than ever. I realized that when I wasn’t thinking about it, I didn’t notice the difference unless I moved. Did that mean I was beginning to accept the changes? I hoped not.

As I was getting into the shower, I noticed the shower cap hanging from the rack. I had the presence of mind to realize that this thick mane of hair would take forever to dry, and was probably beyond my abilities. I donned the cap and turned on the water, letting it warm to a comfortable temperature, and then stepped in.

I immediately realized how sensitive my new soft skin had become. I couldn’t stand with my breasts directly in the spray; the nipples were becoming erect and tender, causing a warmth to once again to spread in the area between my legs. ‘Oh my God!’ I thought, ‘even a shower was becoming erotic to me.’ Either I was just responding to my new body, or a woman’s entire body was an erogenous zone. I thought it was somewhere between the two.

I proceeded to finish my shower, taking care to wash my feminine parts without stimulating myself more. ‘Time enough for that later’ I thought absentmindedly. ‘What later?’ I had no desire for self-stimulation. Sure, real women probably did it, maybe as often as some men, but I had no intention in my male mind of trying to experience THAT part of womanhood. Using the detachable massaging shower head to rinse down below almost broke my resolve.

Disgusted with myself and how this body I had was responding, I turned off the shower and grabbed a big, fluffy towel and dried myself off. Now for the difficult part.

Sitting at the vanity, I wondered how to apply the various types of makeup arrayed before me. I then remembered the ‘autopilot’ that had seemed to work before. Could I do that again? I let my mind go blank, and my body complied by doing what it needed to do. Once again I wasn’t in a complete trance. I managed to follow what my body was doing enough that I thought I could do it myself next time, though maybe not as well.

The finished product was amazing. I admit, this body I was in had been extremely attractive even without makeup and with my hair in a ponytail. With just a small amount of makeup adroitly applied, I was stunning. The shadow and eyeliner made my green eyes stand out and appear larger, while the mascara made my lashes long and thick. The lipstick and gloss accentuated my full lips. My hair was long, dark, and thick, cascading over my shoulders and down to the small of my back. It was silky and shiny enough to appear in a shampoo commercial. I looked the actress Natalie Portman…no, more like Megan Fox.

Now it was time to get dressed. I needed to use the autopilot again, as I had no idea what I should wear to work. I was a little leery of going on automatic too much; I was afraid I’d start to lose my old identity to my new body. I guess I should be thankful that Trish had so many clothes, since the thought of shopping for women’s wear gave me a shudder.

Allowing my body to take over, I found the outfit it selected to be more than a little disconcerting. I was wearing an olive colored skirt-suit, the hem of which seemed short to me, falling about four inches above the knee. Under the tailored jacket, I had on a black satin cami with spaghetti straps and lace around the low-cut neckline. It seemed to me to show off too much cleavage, but from my memory I guess it didn’t show much more than the average attractive young professional women I had seen before. I had on a black satin half-slip under my skirt. Underneath all this my body had selected a black satin and lace underwire push-up bra with, to my chagrin, a matching satin thong. I could feel it riding up my butt, but I was sure I would get used to it. After all, real women wore them all the time. I guessed it was probably necessary because the thin, tight fabric of my miniskirt would certainly show panty lines.

On my legs, I wore off-black, smoky thigh highs. I would have to see if Trish had any pantyhose. Although I admit my legs felt and looked good, I did feel quite exposed down below. I also noticed I was perched on black pumps with a three inch heel. They were not as tall as some of the heels I had noticed in the closet, but I thought I would have difficulty walking in them if I didn’t rely on the auto feature.

I noticed that my body had finished off the outfit with a gold necklace, bracelet, some rings, and two inch gold hoops in my pierced ears. A small, feminine watch dangled from my left wrist. I had to admit, when I was married, jewelry really completed a woman’s ensemble. A small spritz of perfume had added the final touch.

Ready to go, I looked at myself in the full length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. I had to admit that I looked gorgeous. As Aiden, I would have fallen in love with the creature staring back at me from the mirror, mimicking my every move. ‘Well,’ I thought, ‘If I have to be a woman for the next month, I guess it’s better to be a sexy woman.’ I just hoped I could deal with the inevitable male attention.

It was time, now or never. As I grabbed my key I noticed a black leather purse on the table by the door. I had noticed it last night and had wondered what woman would go away for a few weeks and not take her purse. I had just figured it was an extra one she had emptied before leaving. As I looked at it now, though, I realized from its shape that it was far from empty.

Picking it up, I became aware that I would need it while I remained a woman. Ladies never went anywhere without them. I also realized that I couldn’t just stick a wallet in my back pocket. Even if I had a back pocket, my clothing would be too tight to carry it there. This all reminded me of something. When I had asked Horace about who I was earlier, he had responded with the question, ‘What’s in your wallet?” Horace had put the emphasis on the word ‘your’ like in the Capital One bank commercials with the Vikings. That made me have a sudden revelation. ‘Maybe…no, impossible’ I thought. I filed the idea away for later.

Under the extra cosmetics, tic-tacs, hair ties, and (ugh) tampons, I pulled out a ladies brown leather wallet. My driver’s license picture actually wasn’t too bad. I guess I was photogenic. My full name was Patricia Ann Brooks. I was 21 years old, 5’6” tall and I weighed 120 lbs. My checkbook had a balance of just over a thousand dollars and my savings about three thousand. At least I wasn’t destitute. Seeing my license and other ID seemed to make it official: I was Trish Brooks for the next thirty days.

____

Walking through the lobby was a little easier this time. While I still felt self-conscious, especially in the sexy, tailored clothing, I was beginning to gain a little confidence. Walking in the heels didn’t seem as difficult as I expected it to be. Perhaps some of it was instinct and some was the new proportions of this body. I did notice that the shoes caused my hips and ass to sway more than usual. I also noticed the men and women now coming and going through the lobby noticing too. The men’s looks were admiring; the women seemed to be jealous or comparing themselves to me.
Horace and Lucky both gave me a smile and wished me a good day. I’m not sure if it was my imagination or my acceptance, but their smiles seemed more genuine. In either case I was grateful; I was heading to my unfamiliar new job and appreciated any well-wishing that I could get.

As I was leaving, Horace called out “Would you like me to call you a cab, Miss Brooks?”

“No thank you, Horace.” I answered. “It’s only three blocks to work. I think I will enjoy the walk. And call me Trish.” If I had to be this way for a while, I may as well make some friends.

“If you insist, Trish. The area is certainly safe enough.”

For some reason Horace’s expression looked a little dubious when I said I would be walking. As I stepped out the door and started walking down the sidewalk, I heard the unmistakable clicking sound of a woman’s high heels. I instinctively looked around for the source of the sound. As a man, I had always appreciated the sexiness of the sight and sound of a woman’s legs and the swaying of her ass as she walked in high heels. Seeing no one, I suddenly realized that the sound was coming from MY high heeled shoes. It was so ironic that I had to laugh. It was the first hint of humor that I had since the day began.

As I was walking to work, I realized that I had begun taking all of this very well. Whether it was the hormones racing through my body or simply that my attitude had changed knowing this was temporary, I wasn’t sure. Don’t get me wrong. I was still a man and would switch back immediately if I could, but I did consider this an excellent learning experience. This would make me a better person and a better man in the long run. It would give me more sympathy and understanding of all that a woman went through. Also, to be perfectly honest, though I had never had any desire to dress in women’s clothing, I had to admit that the silky feeling of the camisole against my breasts and the slight breeze around my stocking-clad legs did feel a little good…sexy even.

With time to think, I began wondering who these people were that I was dealing with. The only thing I thought could cause this change in was magic or God. ‘Or was it gods?’ I wondered to myself. I had been fascinated by the elective courses in Comparative Religion and Mythology that I had taken as an undergrad. It seemed too far-fetched, but who else could do this to me?

Horace, could he be the Egyptian god Horus? I didn’t remember any myths about him changing anyone. What about Logan? That didn’t sound like a name for a god. May as well call a god Ted. I had overheard Horace or Horus call Logan ‘L’. I had thought it was short for his name, but what if it was ‘El’ with an ‘E’? The Canaanites had an over-god figure named ‘El’ and I thought I remembered his changing some worshippers. Then there was Luk. I had never heard of a Luk or Lucky as a god anywhere, and he didn’t seem like much of a god, but many cultures had gods and goddesses’ of Luck.

That left Val. He had a Scandinavian accent; that would mean the Norse Pantheon. According to myth, Odin and Loki had changed themselves and others into women, as well as animals and even plants, but that didn’t sound quite right. Val…Vali? Both Odin and Loki had a son named Vali. Couldn’t Loki’s son turn into a wolf? I thought I was on to something, even if I wasn’t sure I believed any of it. I had a month to think it over.

By the time I was nearing the garage, I began to understand why Horace had been looking at me funny. My feet were already killing me. If I was to walk to work again, I would wear the sneakers I had seen in the closet and carry my pumps. I could have cut off a little distance by taking the alley for the last block, for some reason the idea made me uncomfortable, despite being broad daylight and Horace’s reassurance of safety. Perhaps I was just more aware of my smaller body or realizing that since I didn’t have nearly the strength I was used to, I was more vulnerable. Did all women feel like that?

Pausing and taking a deep breath, I stepped inside my new office. Despite the fact that I had tried to confront Mr. Logan about my transformation, I was under no illusions that Val wasn’t involved. If the fragments of my dreams the previous night were any indication, Val may have even precipitated the change. Wasn’t that what Logan had said? I simply hadn’t been ready or willing to walk down here at the time, especially with Mr. Logan so near, having all the answers I needed. Or most of them, anyway.

The lobby and what I assumed was my desk were empty. They faced the street and had large plate glass windows on the front. Behind my desk and the counter were two empty offices with the doors open. I assumed the larger of the two belonged to Val. The smaller office had several desks with computers, ostensibly for the technicians to do research and paperwork. A bookcase loaded with technical manuals lined the back wall. Through the doorway I spied another door which I presumed opened into the large shop area. The last door in the lobby I thought would open to the lounge, which it did. Val and the three technicians I had seen yesterday were seated on the leather sofas and chairs, taking a break.

“I knew that was you, Trish, welcome back.” Val said with a genuine smile.

Given who I was beginning to suspect he was, I had no doubt that he knew exactly who had entered the front door.

“Thank you, Vali.” I ventured with a stammer. “It’s good to be back.” I had ventured to use his real name and see if I could confirm my suspicions. If he was going to be polite, I figured it was best not to piss him off, especially since he had a say in returning me to my old body. I needed to be on my best behavior.

“You figured that out faster than El told me most people do.” Val replied. “It changes nothing. You will continue to behave as you were told.” The three mechanics in the room appeared not to notice our conversation.

“I think you’ve met my technicians yesterday, though you weren’t introduced. This is Salvatore, Hans, and Bjorn.” Val stated, indicating those I assumed to be an Italian, a German, and a Swede. “Salvatore handles the Italian exotics, Hans the BMWs, Porsches, and Mercedes, and Bjorn the Saabs and Volvos. All are factory trained expert mechanics with quite the reputations. They can all help each other on all the cars; we do extensive custom tuning as well as repairs.”

I greeted and shook hands with each of the handsome technicians. ‘Handsome?’ I wondered. ‘Why had I thought that? Was I beginning to notice that some men were handsome? I was afraid that I was. I only hoped that it was just this body I was in. I had no intention of doing anything with a man. I was still attracted to women, wasn’t I?

“You don’t do any modifications on the Japanese luxury cars?” I asked. “I know they are extremely popular lately.”

“There is a…an ’associate’ of ours by the name of ‘Chimi’. He has a shop specializing in Asian cars on the other side of the square, one street back. We complement each other quite well.”

‘Chimi’ had to be ‘Chimata-No-Kami, the Japanese god of crossroads, highways and footpaths. How appropriate, I thought. My good memory and interest in mythology was finally paying off in the real world, though not in any way that I would have expected.

“Let’s give you a quick tour and a rundown of your duties.” Val announced. He took me into the shop, which I again noted was well-organized and immaculate. The three front bays each had a hydraulic lift. The rear bays had a computerized alignment station, diagnostic equipment, and specialty tools and equipment. The workshop located behind the offices contained welding and machine shop equipment, as well as spaces to park the technician’s ample toolboxes. From what I knew of garages as a man, I could tell that this was one to the best-equipped shops around.

“In addition to providing monthly parking to customers, we use the parking garage floors above us for overflow and storage of cars.” Val told me. “I even have quite a few of my own up there.”

I didn’t see my Beemer in the shop. I assumed it had been moved to the parking garage to make room.

From the shop we went back to the lobby. I was expected to keep the coffee full. Val showed me to what I had correctly assumed to be my desk. “You can take care of the customers, access the computer, and answer the phones from your desk or the counter.” Val told me. “Just smile and make the customers feel comfortable. We are a professional but friendly business. It won’t take long to get to know them all. We also try to have fun here. We have quite the reputation and have gotten very busy as a result. My office is back there,” he said, pointing over his shoulder at the larger of the two. “Feel free to ask for anything you need. If I’m not doing paperwork or making estimates, I’ll be in the shop. I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty; I’m quite a good mechanic in my own right.”

Val went into his office and closed the door. It seemed odd to me that he hadn’t mentioned much about my transformation and his part in it. Oh well, I was sure he had spoken to Mr. Logan after I saw him this morning, so he was undoubtedly up to speed on the situation. If he wanted to ignore it and play it cool, then I could also act like nothing happened. Maybe playing this role for four weeks wouldn’t be as hard as I thought. Things were already becoming more natural and easier. Wow, I can’t believe I was even thinking like this.

The rest of the morning went quickly as I familiarized myself with the computer system and phone, as well as the records. It was pretty straight-forward and I was by nature an organized person. Before I knew it lunchtime had arrived.

Val came out of the shop with the three mechanics in tow. “We’re going down to Pasquale’s Forum, an Italian restaurant for lunch, would you care to join us?” Val asked me politely. I was wondering if any of the technicians were what I was beginning to think of as ‘Their Type’ meaning Val, Mr. Logan, and Horace. I wasn’t sure about Lucky.

“No, but thanks. I think I’ll just order a salad from that trendy little café a few doors down. A girl’s gotta watch her figure.” I don’t know what made me say that, especially with the mischievous little smile I had given. I guess I just wanted to yank his chain a little.

After they left I had a little time to myself. I had put on the answering machine when lunch break began; Val had said we were fairly casual around here. When my Caesars Salad arrived, I kicked off my shoes and relaxed. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. With all the events of the morning, I hadn’t thought about breakfast at all. I tore into the salad in what I was sure was not a very ladylike fashion. ‘Fuck it,’ I thought with a smirk. ‘Despite how I look, I’m no lady.’ Despite my lack of breakfast, I didn’t even finish my salad. This smaller body didn’t seem to need as much food.
The rest of the day also went by fairly fast. To my surprise, the work was fairly interesting, if not particularly challenging. The customers that I met or spoke to on the phone were polite and friendly. When it got slow, I grabbed the cordless phone and went out into the shop. I had always been interested in exotic cars as a man, and had owned a few myself as I got successful. I think I surprised the technicians with my ‘girls knowledge’ of cars, though they were all friendly and not the least bit condescending. In fact, the more interested I was, the more they enjoyed explaining things to me. By the time I returned to my own body, I would have gained quite the automotive education. At the very least it would enable me to do my current job better.

At four-thirty I packed up my stuff and straightened my desk. The mechanics usually stayed until five. Val told me that I had done a wonderful job, especially for my first day. This made me blush like a schoolgirl. The realization that I was now almost a schoolgirl made me blush all the more.

As I left I decided to go to the Southwestern Grill for dinner. I didn’t feel like going right home to an empty apartment and after the day I had, I needed a drink. It was just down the street and Val had recommended it highly. Besides, I hadn’t noticed much in the way of food in my apartment.

It turned out to be a good choice. It was just what I was looking for. The exterior was made of some sort of adobe lookalike, complete with the requisite log ends showing where the eaves were. The windows were recessed and the ceilings were low. The customers were all upscale New Yorkers with a substantial number of them being professionals just getting off from work. Unfortunately it seemed to be a bit of a singles scene, even on a Thursday night. I had no intention of meeting anyone. I entered the fake adobe bar which occupied a third of the floor space and found a table near the bar being careful how I sat and positioned my legs so as not to give any guys more of a look than I wanted to.

The bartender came over and introduced himself. He looked like he was right at home in a place called the Southwestern Grill. Tall and well-muscled under his denim shirt; his features were clearly American Indian, accented by the single long braid of black hair down the center of his back. He grinned, showing perfect teeth. “I’m Trick; can I get you anything to drink?”

“Rick?” I asked.

“No, Trick. My given name is T. Richard Running Bear. T and Rick make Trick. I make the world’s best margueritas.”

“That would be wonderful” I answered. “I’m Trish Brooks.” He held out his hand. As I shook it, I felt a tingle and warmth in my fingers. ‘Another one of them’ I thought to myself. ‘Trick…the Native American Trickster? I was almost sure of it.

“You’re new here.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I just moved into the Deity Arms.”

“Logan and Val were just here for lunch. You must be Val’s new receptionist. He’s a great guy”

“Yeah, great.” I said with more enthusiasm than I felt.

“Well, I’ll go get your drink. The waitress will be right over to take your order”

With that he left and the waitress came over. I noticed that she was a little unsteady on her heels and kept pulling on the hem of her skirt like she was trying to cover more of her exposed legs. She also seemed to be keeping an eye on Trick at the bar. Was she another transformee of Mr. Logan’s? Or Trick’s? I ordered a petite filet, southwest style, and a loaded baked potato, since all I had to eat today was a salad.

The marguerita really was the best I ever had, and the food was delicious. I could see why the place was so popular. After I ordered, a pretty, petite redhead in her early twenties came over to my table.
“I’m Linda Donovan.” The redhead offered her hand in introduction with a friendly smile. “I work in your building. I’m the decorator at Anna’s Bakery next door to Val’s. You’re his new receptionist?”

“That’s right,” I returned the smile. She seemed warm and open. I was grateful for a friendly face. “Today was my first day.”

“Your first day at work or your first day as…?” she let the question hang.

“You know about what happened to me!?”

“I wasn’t certain until you confirmed it just now, but I had a sneaking suspicion. There were a few clues. If you had been confused by my question, I would have brushed it off, but I was right. May I sit down?”

“Absolutely.” I replied. “Was it that obvious that used to be a...a…”

“A man? It’s nothing to be ashamed of, and no, it’s not obvious unless you know what to look for.”

“Easy for you to say, being a woman.” I countered.

“Gotcha.” She said with a laugh. “Until six months ago I was as male as you were. I was an airline mechanic with Atlantic Air Express out of New Jersey. I was a bit of a rogue with the ladies, especially flight attendants. Not an ogre, mind you. I treated them with respect generally but I looked at them as somewhat inferior to men, almost like second class citizens. One of my former ‘conquests’ had a rent controlled apartment and offered it to me, and here I am.”

“Let me guess, Deity Arms, and you met Mr. Logan?” I was already thinking of it as ‘Deity’ rather than ‘Deety’ Arms.

“Too easy.” She said with another laugh. She seemed like a very happy person and a natural woman. She continued. “Have you figured out how, what is going on around here?”

“I have a theory,” I hesitated. “But you’ll think it’s crazy; crazier than Deity Arms itself.”

“Try me.”

“Okay,” I continued. I told her about my interest in mythology and the classes I had taken in college. “As strange as it may seem, I think they are retired gods, or whatever it is that they become when they aren’t worshipped anymore.”

“Right in one!” She exclaimed. “I think you caught on faster than anyone I’ve met. My boss, the owner of Anna’s Bakery, is Anna Purnell, a.k.a. Annapurna, the Hindu goddess of Cooking and the Hearth. She is such a sweetheart, and a great person to work for.”

“Are there a lot of us?” I asked.

“More than you’d realize, but many of them move away or get married. There are a few who stay here in the area, but some of them are hookers, drug addicts, menial laborers, or worse.”

“Worse?”

“Linda went on. “Let’s just say many of the pets, strays, and rats around here used to be some unsavory characters. It seems the gods have a sense of justice.”

I shuddered. I was right in thinking it wise not to piss off Logan and Val. Things could have become a LOT worse. No wonder the neighborhood was safer than most.

“I’ve got to go; I already finished dinner. Here’s my card with my cell on the back. We’ve got to get together and I’ll help you with some pointers. Why don’t you come to the bakery and tomorrow and we’ll go out to lunch?”

“I’d love to,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. She was very nice to talk to. I was sure she’d be very helpful and I found that I really wanted a friend to talk with. Women really did connect quickly and on a deeper level than men. “See you then.”

Just as she left my dinner arrived. As I ate I noticed that I was getting a lot of attention from the single guys in the room, and quite a few of the ones with dates. It was only a matter of time before I would have to try fending off advances. I decided to leave as soon as I was finished eating.

Sure enough, just as I was finishing my meal, I noticed a man approaching my table. ‘Oh no’ I thought. The last thing I wanted was male attention. When I looked up, I saw it was David Parker, a customer of Val’s that I had met this afternoon. He was a handsome man. (Why did I keep noticing things like that?) The proverbial tall, dark and handsome man; he was about six feet tall, tan, with dark brown hair and a strong but not overly muscular build. I found out later he was 28 years old. He drove a nice Mercedes sport sedan, an S65 6.0L AMG twin-turbo V-12. He seemed to be a nice guy. At least he wasn’t one of the men that talked to my breasts or undressed me with his eyes.

“You’re eating alone?” He asked. “I would’ve thought you’d have to beat the guys off with a stick in this place.”

“I just moved into the area, I haven’t met anyone yet. I have noticed there are quite a number of sharks schooling around” I said with a smile.
“Do you mind if I sit down?” He asked politely. “You can consider me your personal shark repellant.”

“Please do” I answered, telling myself it was just because I was lonely and I needed a protector right now. We continued to talk for a while. I found out he was a CPA at a rather large accounting firm in the city. He admitted it was not a very exciting job but he found the work interesting and fulfilling. It surprised me that a CPA could afford a Mercedes like his. Maybe he saved up for it.

He bought me another marguerita. When he asked me about myself, I related to him the rather meager history that Mr. Logan had given me, filling in the details with pieces of my upbringing so it would be easier to remember in the future. He seemed genuinely interested and I found it was a pleasant conversation. He was easy to talk to and was a good listener.

I lost all track of time. Before long I realized it was getting late. “Thank you for your company; I really enjoyed it. Thanks also for preventing a feeding frenzy.” I said with a wave to indicate the guys at the bar. “I have to get home. I have to be at work by 7:30 tomorrow.”

He stood and pulled out my chair. “Let me walk you home” he said.

I didn’t really want him to, but despite Horace’s assurances of the safety of the neighborhood, it probably wasn’t a great idea for a young, single woman to be walking around alone in the dark. This was still the Big City. “Thank you that would be nice.”

We walked along the sidewalk toward the other side of the square, the clicking of my heels the only thing breaking the silence. He held my hand. Rather than run screaming, I realized that it felt comfortable and safe. It was a strange feeling. We didn’t talk, but it was a comfortable silence. Before I knew it we were back at the Deity Arms. David walked me up the steps and stopped at the door. He had been the perfect gentleman the whole evening, but I was terrified that he would try to kiss me goodnight. I was surprised he couldn’t hear my knees knocking together.

“Thanks for a lovely evening, David. I really enjoyed it.” Lovely? Had I ever used the word ‘lovely’ before? The funny thing was I had enjoyed his company. He was a good conversationalist and probably someone Aiden could have been friends with.

“The pleasure was all mine.” He replied, letting go of my hand and stepping away from me. I was so relieved to avoid a goodnight kiss that his next words took me by surprise. “Tomorrow’s Friday, how about dinner and a late movie?”

“Uh, sure.” I answered. Why had I agreed? I was a guy, damn it! At least I was on the inside. My only excuse was my relief at avoiding a kiss and my surprise at the question.

“I’ll pick you up here at eight” He said as he turned away.

I went inside and up to my room. I locked up and went on autopilot to remove my makeup and get ready for bed. As I pulled back the comforter and climbed in, I realized I had put on a red silk nightie. It had spaghetti straps and came to about mid-thigh. There was lace at the neck and hem. I had to admit the slick fabric felt sexy against my skin. I was too tired to think about it. It had been a long and very eventful day. I lay down and almost immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

____

The next morning I woke early, without an alarm clock, just as I had always done as Aiden. That was where the similarities ended. The shock from yesterday’s surprises was gone, replaced by reservation and surprisingly, a greater amount of acceptance of my situation than I would have expected.

Not that I accepted the changes that had been made to me; I simply resigned myself to finishing the month as a woman and maybe even learning something from it. The last thing I wanted to do is screw up Mr. Logan’s ‘parole’ and be stuck like this, or worse, for the rest of my life.

The morning routine was the same, with the exception of washing my hair. For that, I went on automatic. There was simply too much hair to attempt washing and conditioning it by myself the first time. Having awoken early, there would be plenty of time for me to dry it.

Stepping out of the shower, I squeezed the excess water from my long, dark tresses and even managed to wrap a towel around it like a turban the way I had seen women do. I wrapped another large, fluffy towel around my body, remembering at the last second to secure it over my breasts rather than around my waist as I was used to doing as a man.

Walking into my bedroom, I decided to select my own outfit for work today rather than let my body do it for me. I wasn’t going to make any changes in style; I decided on a navy blue skirt suit similar to the olive one that I had worn yesterday. The only difference was that the jacket had three buttons rather than two. I selected a white tank top without the lace my black cami had possessed yesterday. However, it was made from a slick, satiny material. I decided on a white satin bra and panty set so that they wouldn’t show through the tank, and a full white satin slip that ended at mid-thigh. I went with black pantyhose this time rather than the thigh-highs. The skimpy panty was a thong, though. I found I gotten used to the feeling of the underwear quickly and I had actually learned to like the feel of the satin against my softer, more sensitive skin.

Wearing everything but the suit, I walked over to the vanity and sat down, removing the towel from my hair to allow it to air dry a little. I did my makeup myself, only allowing the autopilot to make small adjustments. I found that with my natural beauty and clear skin, I really didn’t need much makeup to look good. I needed very little foundation or powder, and just a little blush to accent my high cheekbones. I went a little heavier on the shadow, eyeliner, and mascara; I really liked the way they accentuated my big, green eyes. Lipstick and perfume added the final touches.

Going on auto to dry my hair, I found that it didn’t take as long as I had expected. The slight natural waviness caused my hair to fall right into place. The sheen of my clean, dry hair still amazed me.

Returning to the bed, I carefully put on the skirt and jacket, taking care not to mess up my makeup. Like yesterday, the hem of my skirt was just a little short, falling just below mid-thigh. Jewelry once again completed the outfit. I grabbed a pair of black strappy sandals with a slender three inch heel and placed them in a carry bag. There was no way I was walking to work in heels again. Instead, I put on a pair of white Reeboks that almost reminded me of my old sneakers. The difference was the pink stripes and laces. Oh well, you can’t have everything.

By now it was 7:10 and I grabbed my purse, keys, and shoes and went out the door. In the lobby, I passed Horace with a little wave and a smile. Once on the street, I wondered if my ability to cope was the hormones or the magic of my transformation.

I arrived at work just before 7:30 and let myself in using the key Val had given me yesterday. I got the coffee going then put on my heels, stowing my purse and the bag with my sneakers in my bottom desk drawer. Although I had developed the ability to walk in heels, I was thankful for the sneakers; my feet weren’t killing me this morning.

I turned on the computer and grabbed a cup of coffee before returning to my desk. I organized some files and printed the day’s work schedule and appointments. Most of our work was done on the computer, but I made sure the hard copies of the estimates and work orders were available for today’s customers to sign. Everything was in order by the time Val and the technicians arrived right before opening at eight o’clock.

Most of the work that day was routine. There was the normal amount of oil changes and tune-ups with assorted tire changes and alignments. In between routine jobs, the mechanics worked on long-term projects such as tuning and performance modifications. The Autohaus was getting such a reputation as a tuning shop that customers were shipping their cars from all over the country for Val’s performance modifications. I actually found I was enjoying myself and I was learning a lot about cars.

The morning sped by. At noon, I turned on the answering machine and grabbed my purse as I headed out for lunch. I walked two doors down and entered Anna’s Bakery, inhaling the heady aroma as I went in. Linda was just coming out from around the counter, hanging up her apron and grabbing her purse. A beautiful Hindu woman in a traditional Sari came out of the back room. Linda introduced her as the owner, Anna.

“I am pleased to meet you, Miss Brooks.” She greeted me in a pleasant voice with barely a hint of an accent. “Mr. Logan and Val have told me about you.”

I returned her warm smile. “Linda said very nice things about you. She really enjoys working here.”

“She is a great employee and a wonderful person. We both have a lot of fun here. Something about baking and cooking is so pleasant.”

“So I hear.” I said with another smile. We both knew about the other, but since Anna hadn’t acknowledged it, I decided not to either. It seemed the best way to handle it.

Linda broke in. “We’re going to the deli for lunch, then maybe some shopping. Can we bring you something?”

“Now Linda, you know I do not need anything.” Anna said warmly. “You girls go along and have fun. No need to hurry back.”

“I only have an hour for lunch.” I interjected.

“Take all the time you need, I know how to handle Val.” Anna said.

We walked to the nice deli down the block. I wondered if it was owned by the Germanic god of Bratwurst or someone like that. Maybe the head shop between Val’s and the bakery was run by the god of opium. I’d have to ask Linda who else ran businesses around here. I didn’t get the chance. Linda introduced me to two of her friends. Rosa was a gorgeous Latina and Pam was the waitress I had met at the Southwestern Grill last night.

I found out later that they were both transformees like Linda and I. Rosa had been a woman for a little longer than Linda, and was so comfortable as a woman that she didn’t often talk about her past or the change. Pam was changed only a few days before I was. Like me, Linda was helping her get accustomed to her transformation, but she seemed to have more difficulty adjusting to her different life. Although I seemed to be having an easier time, I could sympathize. Perhaps it was because for me, the change was temporary; I understood Trick had refused to change her back and threatened her with a much worse fate than a life as a waitress.

We enjoyed a pleasant lunch and enjoyed normal conversation, normal for four girls, that is. We eventually got around to the subject of men. Rosa was engaged to a chef at a five star restaurant in the neighborhood. While Pam grew silent, I got up the guts to tell them about meeting David last night and about our date for this evening. I guess I was hoping to get some advice, but instead I got teased about landing a ‘hunk’ so quickly.

“We HAVE to go shopping for a dress for your date!” Linda exclaimed, excusing us. “Would either of you like to join us?” Rosa had to get back to the law firm where she was a paralegal, and Pam’s shift at the Southwestern Grill began in an hour. “Don’t worry about Trick, Pam. I’ll have Anna tell him to ease up on you some.”

That made Pam’s face brighten. We paid the check then went our separate ways. Linda and I headed to a chic, quaint boutique down the street that specialized in fashionable women’s clothes.

We looked around for about 10 minutes and each found a couple of sexy summer blouses and I found a pair of short shorts and a miniskirt, both made of denim, that Linda insisted I buy along with the blouses. After trying it all on, Linda came to my dressing room carrying the proverbial ‘Little Black Dress’ in my size. “Try this on,” she ordered me with a smirk. “If it fits, you’re buying it”

“Isn’t a little…well…revealing?” I asked, slightly embarrassed. It was low cut, showing what seemed to be an inordinate amount of cleavage. From the thin straps holding the top onto my shoulders to the lower part of my waist the dress was very fitted. The skirt of the dress, while still narrow, flared out slightly in what I was sure was a very sexy manner. The dress was thin silk; but no bra was evidently needed or wanted with it.

“Nonsense!” Linda said with a grin. “It’s perfect, and you look positively delicious in it. You’re getting it and you’re wearing it tonight.” I knew I couldn’t talk her out of it. Plus, she was trying to teach me this woman thing and she knew better than I did. Besides, a small part of me agreed that I did look great in it.

Loaded down with our purchases, we returned to our building. As we split up at our respective doors, Linda gave me a quick but heartfelt hug. “Things will work out fine, don’t worry.” She told me as she went in. She really buoyed my spirits.

The day rest of the day went by fast. It was 4:30 before I knew it, and time to go home. Although I enjoyed my work as Aiden, my days had been much longer and I realized, less satisfying. The money had just been a way of keeping score.

With my sneakers on, I walked to Deity Arms. Passing through the lobby, I greeted Mr. Logan, Lucky, and Horace with a smile and returned to my room.

I decided to take a nap before my ‘date’. It had been a long day. After I dozed off, I had another strange dream in which the gargoyles were watching, jostling for position, and talking about me outside my window.

____

“She seems to be adapting quite well” Horace said to L.

“Yes, she does.” L replied. “Part of it is the hormones, and I gave her a little boost at first to make it a little easier. The main reason for her adaptation is her belief she will be returned to Aiden’s body at the end of the month.”

“I thought you told her you would transform her back when this was done?” asked Horace, puzzled.

“What I actually promised her was ‘At the end of one month’ she ‘could return to my office and we will see how’ she ‘feels about it all’. The rest she simply filled in herself with what she thought I was saying. As you and I both know, by the time a month has passed she will be so comfortable with being Trish she will have no desire to be changed back. That is assuming she discovers the ‘joys of womanhood’, that natural magic that many humans discover on their own. Besides, if she resists, I can tell her about the massive heart attack Aiden would have died from within weeks.”

“I was wondering why you had agreed to change her back” stated Horace. “You NEVER do that. You are right, of course. Given the choice, none of them ever want to change back.”

_____

I awoke from my nap about six, feeling refreshed. Since I wasn’t going out until eight and was meeting David here in the lobby, I figured two hours was plenty of time to get ready, especially if I used the autopilot, which I would probably need to get ready for my evening.

I started with a long, luxurious shower. I had thought about a bubble bath since woman seemed to like them so much, but since I was a shower person as Aiden, I decided to try the bath over the weekend. I didn’t want to waste time.

I took care not to get my long hair wet, using the shower cap. Once again, my sensitive skin was like an erogenous zone. As I washed my breasts, I seemed to pay special attention to my nipples. I must have zoned out, because the warm feeling that started to spread between was accentuated when I began washing my private areas. As my hand brushed my clitoris, an electric feeling went through my body and caused me to gasp. I realized then that the feeling had been slowly building throughout the day.

I touched it again, more slowly this time. It caused me to shudder. There was a sudden desire to be filled and the more I touched myself, the more that feeling built. There seemed to be no stopping it; or maybe I didn’t want to.

I remembered how the shower head felt. I turned the nozzle to the massage setting and pointed it down between my legs. ‘Oh My God!’ I gasped, pulling the wand away. The feeling was incredible and I realized that I had braced one hand on the shower wall. I returned the wand to between my legs and was almost instantly rewarded by a return of the original ecstasy. I slipped one finger into my now thoroughly lubricated vagina. The feeling was exquisite. I added a second finger and directed the shower stream to my clitoris. The pleasant feeling built extremely rapidly and I was overcome by my first orgasm as a woman, followed quickly by another. Eyes closed, I leaned back against the support of the corner of the shower, the cool tile feeling good against my overheated skin.

‘Wow!’ was all I could say. The feeling was just as intense as my male orgasms had been, but the pleasant feeling of buildup had increased. The gradual ebbing sensations and several ‘aftershocks’ made the feeling last much longer than a sudden male eruption, followed by sleepiness. As for rapid multiple orgasms, well…

When I regained my composure, I realized the water was beginning to cool, so I quickly rinsed off my body and turned off the shower head. Since I had no intention of experimenting with a man in my new body; the shower head was going to be my new best friend. That was a type of practice that I was looking forward to trying again.

I realized I had lingered in the shower much longer than I had intended and was now running late. I had no choice but to turn myself over to auto-mode. Before I knew it I was standing before the full-length mirror admiring myself. My makeup was heavier than previously, but looked exquisite. I remembered that my ex-wife had told me women wore heavier ‘evening makeup’ and my body must have agreed.

What got my attention was what I was wearing. My body must have gone all-out without me. I had on the proverbial ‘Little Black Dress’ I had purchased during lunch. All women say it is a must-have. I had notice two others in my closet. The panties were the thinnest of black satin thongs, otherwise, like a bra; they would be extremely evident under the dress.

The most shocking part of the ensemble was the stockings and shoes. Like the thigh-highs and pantyhose I had worn previously, they were black. I now had to admit they looked and felt extremely sexy. What was shocking was that they were held up by a satin and lace garter belt. The shoes were the tallest I had worn, four inch black stiletto sandals with just one strap across the toes and another around my ankle. Most shocking of all was that I liked how sexy they looked.

Despite how I thought I looked, I was about to strip off the clothes and start again more conservatively, but a look at my watch made me realize that it was eight o’clock. There was no time to change.

I grabbed my purse, making sure my keys were inside. I took a quick glance in the hallway mirror to check my makeup- and stopped short. What had I just done? Was I really becoming that much of a girl, er, woman? I was going on a date…with a guy?

‘Just play it all through to the end’ I told myself as I left the apartment and walked to the elevator.

____

David stood waiting in the lobby, chatting with Horace and sensing nothing unusual. Horace gave me a sly smile and a wink. “I was about to call up for you,” he said.

“Thank you, Horace,” I replied with a smile. “You know it takes a while longer for us girls to look pretty” ‘Why had I said that?’ I wondered, and then realized it was partly that I was getting into the role and partly to tease Horace. I was definitely changing, getting more comfortable in my role.

“You look far more than merely pretty,” David stated with a genuine smile. “Are you ready to go? I figured dinner at Pasquale’s then the late movie. Are you in the mood for Italian?” The comment should have made me uncomfortable; instead I had a rather warm feeling and blushed deeply. I nodded.

As we walked out the doors of Deity Arms, I realized I felt nothing of the stress of trying to impress my date. Sure, I wanted to look good, but the pressure of trying to make the date enjoyable and fun was no longer mine. I realized the lack of pressure, along with the looks I received at the restaurant last night, were part of the power that women had over men. Sure, it was a different kind of power, but it was strong nonetheless. Reaching the street, David took my hand. Rather than freaking me out, the gesture felt somewhat natural and made me feel safe. We walked down the square to Pasquale’s.

Just ahead I spied the traditional green and white striped awning and the obligatory neon sign designated the restaurant as Pasquale’s Forum. It was your typical New York Italian neighborhood restaurant. It was a storefront location nestled between an Italian market and a used book emporium.

David pushed open the heavy glass door and held it for me like a gentleman. I had to admit I liked the attention. Inside, the pleasant odors of garlic and oregano rose up to greet me. The restaurant was appropriately decorated; red and white checkered tablecloths were complemented by white napkins and of course, the typical Chianti bottles topped with wax from the small candle graced each table.

A slightly rotund, Mediterranean appearing man greeted us at the station inside the door. “I’m Arturo Romano, the owner. Welcome to Pasquale’s,” he said cheerfully, extending his hand. Although he had no discernable accent, his accuracy in pronouncing the name of the restaurant told me he was probably a second-generation Italian who spoke the language fairly well. “I’m sorry to say that our hostess, Gina Russo, excuse me, Gina Capella Conway now, has recently married and I am currently between hostesses. Mr. Logan from Deety arms says he may have found a suitable replacement.”

Mr. Romano, or Arturo as he insisted we call him, led us to a quiet little table in the back. He must have thought we were two lovebirds and that we wanted some privacy. David probably did too. I realized that I didn’t mind.

We shared a carafe of rather good red wine. After a second glass, I decided that I should refrain from having another. Remembering my two margueritas from last night, I realized this smaller body of mine didn’t seem to be able to handle as much alcohol as I could as Aiden. I certainly didn’t want to have too much to drink and end up in bed with David yet. ‘Yet?!’ I thought with a sliver of fear? When would these changes stop? Was I to be ruled by these new hormones?

We enjoyed a lovely dinner of veal parmesan and nice conversation. I learned more about David’s childhood and it felt like I was really getting to know him. It was a closer connection on an emotional level than what I had experienced with dates as a man.

During dinner, my dress hem was trying to ride up my thighs. I kept my knees together or crossed my legs to keep from showing more of my curvy legs than I wanted to. Even so, I noticed David as well as some of the other male diners taking peeks at my legs. I would have done the same yesterday.

After dinner we took a cab to the movie theatre nearby, located below an office building. It had two screens. One was showing a romantic comedy, a typical chick-flick as I had always called them. As I read the marquee David asked me “Is that the one you’d like to see?”

“No,” I replied, “Let’s see the action movie.”

David asked me if I was certain, and I assured him that I was. “That’s one of the reasons I like you” David said. “We like the same things, and you are so easy to talk to” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I guess it was somewhat unusual for a girl to be able to talk about cars and things in depth as I was. It must have been my background; I could understand why a guy would like that. As Aiden, it would have been refreshing and interesting.

The action movie wasn’t as good as I expected it to be. I had always liked lots of shooting and car chases. The movie had a lot of them, but I just didn’t seem to be as interested in them as I had been as a man. The male lead was handsome enough (okay, I realized I was starting to notice that more) but the female lead was rather shallow, there simply to be pretty, weak, and to be saved by the hero. I didn’t really connect with the characters. That had never bothered me before.

During the movie David put his arm on the back of my seat, later putting it around my shoulders. I didn’t mind; in fact it felt comfortable and secure. As we were leaving the theatre, he put his arm around my waist, something else I didn’t feel uncomfortable about. What felt strangest was that being close to him didn’t give me the tense unease that I had felt previously when I was close to him. The changes were becoming more evident.

David hailed a cab at the curb. The driver was Middle Eastern looking with an accent. His name was Kemal. I told him we were going to Deity Arms and was about to give him the address when he told me he knew where it was. When I thought about it, I realized that I had seen him in the area before.

It was just a short time later that we pulled up to the building. As David paid the fare, Kemal handed me his card. “I’m in this area a lot. Call me whenever you need a ride.” He told me with a smile.

I politely thanked him as he drove off. David and I walked to the door and then turned to face each other. “I had a wonderful time tonight.” David said to me.

“I did too.” I replied. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

As I looked into his eyes, he leaned forward to kiss me. I knew it was coming and was a little apprehensive. We closed our eyes as our lips met. After a few moments my conscious mind gave in and I returned the kiss with a little more passion. After a few minutes as we broke apart, I was a little breathless as well as slightly disappointed. A warmth had spread through my body. David didn’t make any innuendos about coming upstairs. As usual, he was a perfect gentleman.

“Thanks for the evening” David said as he turned with reluctance. “I’ll give you a call this week.” I stood by the doors for a few minutes, watching him walk towards Val’s parking garage where he had parked his car. I turned and went inside, smiling at Horace, ever-present at his small desk, and smiled a second time as I saw Mr. Logan step out of his office suite and pause in the doorway as he returned the smile. I turned to the elevator and then up to my room.

____

“Things seem to be coming along nicely, L.” Horace stated.

“Yes,” L replied, seeming to be deep in thought. “No matter how many times I experience it, I am always surprised by the resiliency of the human spirit, and how fast it can adapt. It is still amusing; that never gets old. Though things will soon become more…complicated.”

“Oh?” Horace asked, puzzled. “How is that?”

“You shall see, my old friend, you shall see.”

____

“She looks so beautiful lying there like that.” Grimcost said.

“They always look more peaceful when they’re asleep.” answered Garmon. “It’s when they’re awake that they’re trouble.”

____

The next few weeks seemed to fly by. I enjoyed my work and learned a lot. I actually found it quite interesting. I began to consider Salvatore, Hans, Bjorn, and even Val my friends. David and I had continued to see each other every weekend and occasionally during the week. Though always a gentleman, he was beginning to hint about taking our relationship to the next level. I got the distinct impression that he was falling for me.

I was slightly divided on the matter. The male part of me was trying to tell me this was wrong, but that voice was getting quieter as the weeks went on, shunted to the back of my increasingly female mind. I had continued to explore my female body with both the shower head and my fingers, and I was beginning to wonder what it would be like to experience the real thing. Not with just anyone, but with David. He had been figuring more prominently in my mind as I explored my body.

I also enjoyed spending time with Linda. She was becoming a very close friend, closer than anyone I had known as a man. Women seemed to develop deeper friendships, perhaps due to their innate need to communicate. In addition to Rosa and Pam, she had introduced me to a group of her friends, who I had also become close to. We often went out for shopping, drinks, or a meal after work or on the weekends, but Linda had become my best friend.

____

Maria Clara Laferriere was nervous. Perhaps uncomfortable was a better word for it. She had been summoned from her store early on this Saturday to this lavish suite in South Beach by Luis Ernesto Rodriguez, whom everyone knew was the undisputed Crime Boss of Miami-Dade County’s underworld. It was not the suite Maria felt uncomfortable with; it was the presence of the silent man seated behind the mahogany desk in front of her.

His reputation for ruthlessness was every bit as bad as the role of ‘Scarface’ played by Al Pacino who’s life Luis’ bore much more than a passing resemblance. Anyone growing up in South Florida during the heyday of the reefer smugglers in the seventies and the Cocaine Cowboys of the eighties knew that movie was as close to reality as Hollywood could get.

Maria was not too concerned for her own safety. She was not without power and a reputation of her own. The daughter of a Brazilian Candomblé Mãe-de-santo Priestess and a Haitian Houngan Vodou Priest, she had become an adept practitioner of both at a young age. Forced to flee her mother’s native country in 1950, they settled in Cuba, from which they again fled when Fidel Castro came to power in 1953. The family finally settled in Miami with the first wave of Cuban exiles. She learned the art of Santería, the Cuban version of her adopted practices and with her increasing powers, quickly became a Santera Priestess in addition to being a Candomblé Mãe-de-santo and a Vodou Mambo.

Coming fully into her powers as a teenager, she quickly became one of the most powerful practitioners of magic in the south, rivalled only by one or two older Voodoiennes of New Orleans. For safety purposes, the practice remained hidden outside the immigrant population, virtually unknown and unbelieved by the Gringos. If anything happened to her, either of her daughters would see to it that Maria was avenged properly. Everyone in the South Florida Latino community knew it.

Luis knew it as well. He walked around his desk and seated himself in the chair adjacent to Maria’s. “I need to hire you to find someone” he opened with the utmost respect. “The person I am interested in is most likely in New York city.”

“That will be difficult” Rosa replied. “And expensive.”

“As you well know, cost is no object.”

Maria named her price and Luis agreed readily. “I will require an item belonging to the person that you wish to locate.” She added.

Luis reached into a cabinet along the wall, removing a hat and a shirt. “These belong to and were worn by the person in question. Anything else you need will be provided to you.”

Maria looked at Luis. “A spell of this magnitude and at this distance cannot be performed over the blood and carcass of a rooster. It will require an offering of your blood.”

Luis was somewhat taken aback, then realized he shouldn’t be surprised. The undertaking he was asking of her would require significant power.

“I will bring you your payment…and offering in person, say tomorrow evening?” Luis offered.

“Be at my ilé behind my store on West Flagler Street at eight” Maria said, “That will give me ample time to prepare.” She rose and departed through the double doors without another word.

Luis returned to his estate in Coral Gables on the outskirts of Miami late the following evening, a bandage wrapped around his right forearm. He had arrived promptly at the appointed time, accompanied by two bodyguards. These waited in the storefront while Luis was escorted into the inner sanctum of the ilé, also known as a Casa de Santos or ‘House of Saints’. In front of him stood an igbodu altar lit by many candles, on one side of which sat a vial, brazier, and a cut glass bowl, on the other was salt, rum, a plate of food, and an ornate ceremonial dagger.

Fortunately Luis remembered little of the rite that followed, beyond the painful cutting of his forearm. He seemed to have gone into a trance. When he once again became aware of his surroundings, he found himself in the store, supported by his two bodyguards.

One of Maria’s daughters stood before him. “Maria is resting, she began. “The person you are looking for is near Greenwich Village. He has surrounded himself with exotic automobiles. That is all my mother was able to determine.”

“It will be enough” replied Luis as he went out the door.

After arriving home, despite the late hour, Luis was able to arrange a chartered jet for himself and his henchmen for the next day. ‘Things are coming together’ Luis mused. ‘I will soon have Val in custody and will show him what happens to someone who crosses me.’

____

Monday of what was to be my last week as a woman began like the previous three weeks. I showered, put on my makeup, and dressed in one of my nice work sundresses. Like most of my skirts and dresses, the hem was quite short, but I had found that I enjoyed dressing in these clothes. The selection of colors, fabrics, and styles were astounding. I liked to feel and look sexy.

I gathered up my purse, making sure I had my keys and the leather pumps I was going to wear at work. Leaving the elevator and crossing the lobby, I gave Horace my usual smile, adding a wink as I did when in a good mood.

The walk to work was refreshing. My diet and exercise combined to keep this young, healthy body I had been given in top shape. Just before I got to the door of the Autohaus, I noticed two men standing in front of the business directly across the street. I had begun to recognize the locals over the last three weeks, and these two were not familiar. They were two very large Latino men, and they seemed to be trying a bit too hard to remain inconspicuous. I may not have even noticed them in my previous life as Aiden. Perhaps I was only aware of them now due to my increased vulnerability as a woman. I saw a taxi passing by on the street between the men and myself. I waved, recognizing the driver as Kemal. He waved back as I entered the office door.

Per my routine, I opened the office at 7:30, got the coffee going and completed my morning paperwork. By the time the guys arrived at eight I had everything ready to go for the day.

Around nine I wandered out into the alley where Bjorn was washing a customer’s Lamborghini for a ten AM pickup. I looked down the alley and noticed that the two men were no longer across the street. I shrugged to myself as I continued to chat with the big Swede.

Around ten Val came into the office from the shop and told me he was leaving. He said he was taking the rest of the day off as he occasionally did. I told him I would hold down the fort. There were no appointments scheduled for the rest of the day. The mechanics were busy with a few long-term projects and things were quiet.

Just before lunch I heard the door open and in walked the two Hispanic men that I had seen loitering across the street earlier in the morning. From their appearance, they seemed to be bodyguards or goons of some other sort. They were tall and large of build, with the typical tan skin and black hair of most Latinos. Despite the summer heat, both wore large shirts over their t-shirts, possibly to hide weapons of some kind.

The smaller of the two spoke up. He seemed to be the brains of the pair. “We would like to see Val.” The man made me feel uneasy. He spoke with a Spanish accent.

“Mr. Lokisson is out for the rest of the day. If I may have your names, I will tell him you came by when he returns in the morning” I replied, as pleasantly as possible.

“That won’t be necessary” the man replied, leaning over my desk intimidatingly. “We will return tomorrow.” There seemed to be something sinister about them, as if they didn’t have the best of intentions. With a lingering look around the office, the two men turned and left. I experienced an unusual feeling of relief as they passed out the door.

The whole event gave me an uncomfortable feeling. I decided that it would be best to tell Val about it as soon as possible. I tried to call him on his cell phone, but received only the recording that the customer was unavailable. Punching the ‘end’ button, I silently cursed the fact that Val detested voice mail and had disabled it. I had teased him that he was merely confounded by the technology. It probably wasn’t far from the truth. He always avoided the computer.

I went into the shop and asked the guys where Val might be found. I was surprised to learn that none of them knew where Val went when he left for the day. I had never realized that Val was out of touch when he left on these excursions. I guess the situation had never come up.

For some reason my unease made me suspicious. I decided that the next best thing was to tell Mr. Logan. The menace I felt from the two men somehow seemed to make the situation feel important. I sat at my desk, slipping off my stilettos and pulling on my running shoes with the pink laces. I grabbed my purse and walked back to Deity Arms.

Entering the lobby, I saw the ever-present bulk of Horace standing by the reception desk. Going up to him I asked if I could see Mr. Logan.

“He is at lunch with some city councilmen and The Judge at the moment.” He informed me. “I expect him back within the hour.”

Horace had said ‘The Judge’ as if it had capital letters, but I didn’t hear a name. I thanked him and decided I may as well go upstairs and get something to eat. If Logan still wasn’t back after my lunch I would unburden myself to Horace and let him worry about it, if indeed anything worried him.

In my apartment, I made myself a tuna salad sandwich and sat down to eat it. While watching some news on CNN, I wondered if I was being silly or paranoid. I thought about forgetting the whole thing then realized it was better safe than sorry. I would mention the incident then put it behind me.

When I returned to the lobby after my lunch, Horace informed me that Mr. Logan had returned and was back in his office. I knocked on his door and was told to enter. I went in and sat in one of the comfortable leather chairs in front of Mr. Logan’s desk as he indicated with a wave.

“If this is about your transformation, Miss Brooks, I regret to inform you that our appointment is not until the end of the week; though I must admit you have been fulfilling your role admirably.”

“This isn’t about that.” I replied politely. “I need to get in touch with Val. He left for the day and I can’t reach him on his cell. Do you know where he might be?”

“Val is in San Diego for lunch and some surfing with Apollo, one of… our associates’, Mr. Logan stated, knowing I would understand the veiled reference. “He will not be returning until this evening.

The fact that he said ‘in San Diego’ and not ‘on the way to San Diego’ did not surprise me in the least. These were ancient gods I was dealing with, after all. I related my entire story to Logan, along with my suspicions and my uneasy feelings. Mr. Logan didn’t seem perturbed or upset in the least. “This does not surprise me in the least, Miss Brooks. In fact I have been expecting it, but thank you for making me aware of the situation. I will begin to take steps to deal with these two and their benefactor.”

The fact that Logan was on top of the situation put me at ease with the situation. Mr. Logan rose and I knew I was being dismissed. As he walked me to the door, he told me “Be at ease, Miss Brooks. Continue with your day. If you have any further contact with these gentlemen, please let me know.”

____

With that, I left the building with the burden removed from my shoulders and the spring back in my step. Looking at my watch, I realized my lunch break was over. While things at the Autohaus were casual, I was by nature a prompt person and liked to save my ‘executive lunches” for occasional shopping trips with Linda or one of my other friends.

Nearing Val’s building, I again waved to Kemal as he sat in his cab across the street, probably waiting to pick up a fare. He smiled back. I decided to take the shortcut through the alley rather than circle around the building. I had done this before when running late, having become used to the safety of the neighborhood. I noticed a Cadillac parked in the alley with the trunk open. The only reason I noticed it was because it was somewhat unusual to see an American car there, given the European specialty of our business and the fact that only a few others in the surrounding buildings used the alley. Familiarity breeds complacency.

As I was passing the dumpster, I heard a noise. Just as I realized that the commotion was too loud for a stray dog or a rat, a hand went over my mouth as an arm grabbed my body. I tried to fight back, but my diminutive female body was no match for the strength that had me trapped. I realized the hand over my mouth and nose held a rag smelling of some sort of chemical. The last thing I was aware of was a Spanish-accented voice I recognized saying “Tie her up and put her in the trunk.” I descended into the darkness of unconsciousness.

I came to in what I assumed to be the cramped confines of the trunk. The ether or whatever the goons had used on me had for the most part worn off. I still felt a little fuzzy headed. I realized that my ankles were tied together and that my wrists handcuffed behind my back. My mouth was gagged with a rag. I felt the rhythmic bounce and heard the steady clack that told me we were going over a bridge, probably leaving the city. I tried to fight the panic rising within me. To distract myself I concentrated on looking for the emergency trunk release. I realized it was futile. Even if I could find it in the near total darkness, with my hands fettered I wouldn’t be able to pull the cable. Gagged, I couldn’t even grab it with my teeth.

I began to feel a depression bordering on despair. I had no idea where I was, and due to my unconsciousness I didn’t even know how long I had been traveling. Worse yet, no one else knew where I was. The mechanics at work would think I was taking a long shopping lunch. If I didn’t return, they would probably assume I was taking advantage of Val’s absence by playing hooky for the afternoon. The relaxed atmosphere of my workplace was biting me in my beautiful, round ass. ‘Why,’ I wondered to myself,’ hadn’t I told the guys about my suspicions and my going to see Logan?’ Twenty-twenty hindsight and all that. No one knew I was gone and no one would know where to look by the time I was missed. My only hope was to escape and try to find help. In my smaller, feminine body I had no hope of fighting off either goon, much less both of them. I vowed to try escape if I had the chance.

Eventually I came out of a doze when I felt the car stop. I could hear nothing around the vehicle other than the two henchmen slamming the doors. Soon the trunk opened and the bright mid-afternoon momentarily blinded me. The smaller, relatively speaking, of the two men leered at me as he looked down. “My, my, my, what have we here?” he said lasciviously.

At that point I realized that the short hem of my suit skirt had ridden up my thighs to my waist, exposing my long, shapely legs as well as my garters and tiny silk thong. If I could’ve moved I would have cringed in embarrassment. While I was being ogled, an older, distinguished-looking Hispanic man came over and peered into the trunk at me. “Never mind that,” He commanded in a stern voice that I could tell was used to being obeyed. This was the goon’s ‘benefactor’. “There will be plenty of time for that tonight as we wait for our ‘friend’ to arrive.” The sneer and innuendo were both apparent in his menacing voice.

I realized I would have to do anything to escape. Perhaps if I got one alone and seduced him, I might have a chance. The thought repulsed me. ‘Big Carlos’ as I thought of him picked me up out of the trunk as if I weighed nothing. Looking around quickly, I saw I was between rows of rundown warehouses, the kind you can find in almost any small city in Northern New Jersey, which is where I guessed I was. Knowing it was futile, I tried to kick out with my legs. I hoped they would want to keep me alive, at least until they got whatever it was that they wanted. They seemed to want Val. Did they even know who they were dealing with? I surmised that they didn’t.

My struggles were in vain, as I knew they would be. “Get the shot” the leader ordered. “We don’t want the chance of anyone hearing her pathetic struggling.” I was abruptly and forcibly turned over in the goons arms. I felt a sharp jab of pain in my well-rounded ass and I knew immediately that ‘Little Carlos’ had stabbed me with a hypodermic needle.

‘I’ve been drugged.’ It was the last thought that crossed my mind as I once more slipped into unconsciousness.

When I came to I was in a shabby office. I could see through the one outside window that it was dark outside. Beyond the half wood, half glass walls, I could see the dark and gloomy interior of a warehouse, presumably one of the metal structures I had seen when I was unceremoniously pulled from the trunk. I found I was shackled to the bed. ‘Little Carlos’ was sitting at a desk, reading some cheap detective novel. We seemed to be alone. The small lamp in front of him was the only illumination in the room.

‘Little Carlos’ rose and came over to the bed. “Sleeping beauty has awakened,” he leered. “And what a beauty she is.” He ran his hand rather roughly through my long, dark hair. He seemed to think his touch was seductive.

“Please,” I asked. “I need to use the bathroom.” I had woken with a desperate need to pee.

“I’ll let you go if you don’t try anything funny. Luis said we don’t really need to keep you alive now that Pablo has delivered the note to Val’s apartment. You’re only here to provide us with a little, shall we say, entertainment while we wait.”

I agreed with another shudder. It seemed my worst fears were going to come true. ‘Little Carlos’ cuffed my hands in front of me and unlocked the shackle. He stepped back, sweeping aside his shirt and resting one meaty paw on the grips of a nickel-plated Colt 1911 .45. He pointed to the door in the wall.

I entered what was a small, dirty bathroom, lit by a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. There was no window, and even if there was and I was not handcuffed, I doubted if I would be able to open it and escape before ‘Little Carlos’ could get in to stop me. I used a wad of toilet paper to clean off the toilet seat as best I could, then pulled aside the crotch of my panties as best I could with the handcuffs. The relief was as immediate as it was sudden.

I wiped myself as well as I could under the circumstances and let my skirt fall back down my thighs. I exited the bathroom and returned to the office. I noticed that Luis and Pablo had returned and were talking outside the door. ‘Carlos’ was by the bed with another pair of handcuffs and a couple lengths of rope.

“Please don’t cuff me back on the bed.” I pleaded. “I promise not to try to escape.”

“I know you won’t” ‘Carlos’ replied, un-cuffing my left wrist to one side of the headboard and my right wrist to the other side. “This is to keep you from bucking too much while we have a little fun. A girl with a body like that probably gets a little wild in bed.” He used the rope to tie each ankle to the foot of the bed in a similar fashion to my wrists. My skirt was once again around my waist and I felt a draft where I hadn’t quite gotten my panties repositioned.

The others entered the room and laughed when Carlos opened a three inch penknife and stepped towards me. “Don’t cut her too bad, Carlos.” Pablo laughed. “It’s my turn after you.”

‘His name really IS Carlos?’ I thought to myself. I was afraid he was going to cut or stab me, but instead her reached down and grabbed my panties, slicing first one side and then the other, and yanked the tiny satin thong away from my body, sniffing the musky aroma of my sex before tossing it to the floor. He left my garter belt and stockings alone.

As I lay there completely exposed from the waist down, I saw Carlos unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. The others merely looked on with grins on their faces.

“You’re gonna like this, Puta.” Carlos said to me.

He unzipped his pants and pulled them down. I could see what seemed to be a sizable erection in his boxers. He pulled them down and his penis stood at attention. I caught a glimpse of it before I looked away. It wasn’t as big as I thought; about six inches, but the girth was larger than mine had been as Aiden. I was terrified. I didn’t know how that thing could fit inside me and I didn’t want to find out.

I had realized from playing with myself that this body I had been given was a virgin. My hymen was intact. I guess since this body was newly created and I had never had sex with a man, it made sense. I had begun to wonder what making love to a man would be like while pleasuring myself, and even toyed with the idea of trying it before I returned to being Aiden at the end of the week. I told myself I would regret passing up the chance to experience it, but that was my analytical part of my mind trying to convince the rest of my mind and my body to do what it wanted to do.

In my imaginings, I had always been making love to David. This wasn’t going to be making love, this would be rape. I was pulling on the ropes and handcuffs in desperation. I have never been so scared in my life.

“Quit struggling, chocha.” Carlos almost snarled at me. “Give it a few minutes, you gonna start to like it, a lot.” Carlos finished removing his jeans and boxers. He climbed up on the bed and knelt between my widely spread legs.

‘Oh my God!’ I screamed in my mind. ‘This is really about to happen!’ I felt tears welling up in my eyes and running down my cheeks. I could feel the weight of his body below me and the skin of his knees against my inner thighs. I could smell stale beer on his breath and the rank stench of his body odor.

I stared glassy-eyed at the far wall and waited for the inevitable to happen. Suddenly I saw two large figures appear in the room. Now, I don’t mean they quickly came through the door. I mean they suddenly appeared out of thin air in the middle of the room. There was no flash, no bang, and no puff of smoke. They were simple there. At first glance the smaller of the two, (smaller being only a matter of comparison,) appeared to be a large Viking warrior Berserker with braids in his long hair and his beard. He wore a Viking helm and armor and had a sword and dagger at his belt. In his hands he clasped a broad bladed battle axe. The other, a giant of a man, appeared to be a huge man with the head of a falcon, wearing battle armor that looked like it came from Pharaoh’s tomb.

As soon as they moved, the image disappeared, and it was simply Val and Horace. Val charged the bed, slamming his fist into the side of Carlos’ head, knocking him off the bed and into the wall with a crash.

Meanwhile, Horace closed the distance between himself and Luis and Pablo faster than such a mountain of a man should be able to move. It was, in fact, faster than I had ever seen anyone move. Horace grabbed each of them by their throats, one in each meaty paw, and calmly slammed their heads together. Instantly unconscious, instead of falling, they hung in Horace’s grip. He negligently tossed them against the wall in a pile atop the prostrate Luis. He turned to Val, who was watching him with a grin. Horace simply smiled and shrugged.

Turning back to me, Val broke the thick ropes tying my legs like they were threads. He turned his attention to the handcuffs. They instantly grew hot around my wrists and they fell off. I looked at where they dangled from the headboard. They appeared to have melted.

Val helped me to my feet. I looked around the room. I glanced at the three bastards who had done this to me were they lay crumpled in a pile against the wall. I turned to Val and Horace and looked into their eyes. Then I promptly passed out.

____

I awoke in a strange room, disoriented by my surroundings. Sunlight streamed through open blinds over the single window. The walls were a light beige color and the ceiling was hanging tiles. Balloons and flowers were scattered around the room. There was a TV mounted on the wall. I saw Mr. Logan standing by the rail of my bed. I realized I was in a hospital.

“Welcome back, Miss Brooks.” Logan said in his deep, commanding but compassionate voice. “We were getting worried about you.”

“The Latinos…” I began, but Logan cut me off.

“They are…detained. Do not worry yourself about them”

“Are they under arrest?” I asked hopefully.

“Let us just say, they will be experiencing a more appropriate judgment in a short time. They are currently entrusted to Horace. You are completely safe.”

“How long was I out?”

“You were brought here Monday night, suffering from stress and mental trauma. The doctor gave you a sedative to help you sleep. It is now Tuesday.”

“How did you know where to find me?” I asked quietly.

“I think it is best that you rest. There will be plenty of time for explanations after you are released tomorrow.” There was genuine concern in Mr. Logan’s voice.

“But I’m not tired now.” I countered. “If you don’t tell me what happened, I’ll wonder and worry and not get any rest at all.”

“You do have a point. I will try to be concise and brief as possible.”

“If you remember, Kemal was across the street from your building. I believe you waved to him. After you told me about the confrontation with the two ‘gentlemen’, I asked him to keep an eye on things. Even I did not think we had to worry about anything so quickly. When Kemal saw the Cadillac leave the alley shortly after you entered it, he immediately got the feeling that something was wrong. He followed the Cadillac.”

“He followed at a discreet distance across into New Jersey, into Hoboken and down near the waterfront to the old warehouse district and noted where they stopped. Kemal’s powers lie in a different direction, so rather than try to confront them himself, he wisely decided to return to Deity Arms and inform me of the developments.”

Mr. Logan continued. “I immediately contacted Val, and when he returned from California, I had Kemal take Horace and Val to Hoboken. There they discovered that Luis and Pablo were away, so they hid nearby to await their return while Kemal watched you from the warehouse to make sure you were okay.”

Just as Kemal came out to tell Val and Horace that things inside were about to get more dangerous for you, Luis and Pablo returned and went inside the warehouse. Val and Horace prepared themselves then entered the building. The rest you know.”

“What happened after I passed out?” I inquired of Mr. Logan.

“Val carried you to the limo and put you in the back seat. They carried out the three fellows and placed them, appropriately, in the trunk. They were in suspended animation and will remain so, in the basement, until such a time as I see fit to dispense justice upon them. They took you strait here to the hospital for observation.”

“Now, I believe, it is time for you to rest.” Logan told me with sincere feeling.

The sun outside the window was going down, so I knew it was already evening. Despite my insistence that I didn’t need rest, I did feel a little tired.

I closed my eyes and began to drift off. The last thing I remember before falling into a deep sleep was the sound of Mr. Logan saying quietly “Pleasant dreams, my beauty.” I’m sure he thought I didn’t hear him.

____

My dreams that night were indeed pleasant. I dreamt of David. I dreamt of him holding me securely in his arms. I felt safer and more relaxed than I had in years.

I woke to the feeling of warm sun on my face. When I finally opened my eyes, I saw David asleep in the chair by the bed. Upon hearing me stir, he was instantly awake. He smiled at me. “How are you feeling?” he asked with concern.

“I feel great.” I said, smiling. “How did you get here?”

“In my Mercedes.” I knew he was teasing me. “Actually, Val called me yesterday evening and told me what happened. I got here just as Mr. Logan was leaving. He told me you had awaked and assured me you were fine, but had just fallen back to sleep. I came in and sat by your side. I wanted to be here for you when you woke up. I guess I fell asleep sometime early this morning.”

“That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” I meant it. “Come here and give me a kiss.” He kissed and hugged me. “Now get out of here and go get some coffee. Send the nurse in; I want to get checked out then get myself together so I can get out of here.” He laughed at my mock anger and orders and snapped to attention. I gave him another kiss and shooed him from the room. After he left, I realized that being around him just felt…comfortable…and natural.

The nurse checked me over and gave me a clean bill of health. She also helped me get dressed, put on some makeup, and brush my hair. By the time I was presentable David had returned. He had brought me a cup of coffee just how I liked it, with a cream and two sugars. It was funny; as Aiden I always drank it black. Would I like it that way if I was changed back? If?

David escorted me down to the lobby and helped me to his car. We left the hospital and stopped at a diner for a late breakfast. The place reminded me of the diner from ‘Seinfeld’. We ate and talked.

When David dropped me off at Deity Arms, he offered to walk me up but I said I was fine. He asked if I wanted to go to dinner this evening, but I told him I was afraid I’d be too tired. “Why don’t we go over to my place and I’ll fix dinner for you.” David offered. “We can just relax and maybe watch a movie.”

“That sounds great” I replied, looking forward to it. “I’ll take a nap this afternoon and you can pick me up at six.” I kissed him goodbye and entered the building.

I saw Horace in his usual place. I didn’t think; I merely reacted. I walked briskly up to him and simply threw myself into his arms. He caught me easily. I gave him a big kiss. “Thank you so much!” I purred. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you for rescuing me.” I sounded like the female lead in the cheesy action movie I had seen with David during my first week as Trish. I didn’t care.

“You just paid me back, Miss Brooks.” Horace said with a big grin. “For one of your kisses, I’ll save you every day of the week.”

I slapped him playfully on the shoulder and felt the tears begin to fall. I hugged him fiercely and went to the elevator.

I reached my room and decided that after two days a shower was definitely in order. I started the water running to warm up then looked at myself in the mirror. To all appearances I was unchanged. The absolutely beautiful young woman that I had become was still staring back at me. Only the eyes looked different. A new, worldly look in my eyes was the only remnant of my ordeal. I had been terrified but I was basically unharmed.

I knew instinctively that I would be okay. I definitely would not live my life in fear. I vowed to begin taking lessons in Hapkido, the Martial Art from Korea that taught you how to quickly and permanently disable your opponent in order to make a rapid getaway. I had seen a Dojo down the street from the Autohaus. I decided to enroll myself during my lunch break tomorrow.

As I stood under the warm, refreshing spray of the shower and washed and was conditioning my hair, I paused. ‘Wait a minute” I thought to myself. Tomorrow I would return to the life and body of Aiden and would no longer have to fear a repeat of my ordeal of the other day. Why was I making long-term plans for Trish? I realized that over the last few weeks I had become completely comfortable in the role that had been forced upon me. Was my old life that much better than the new life I had been given?

In my old life I had been a middle-aged man with an increasingly stressed heart and was on the fast-track to an ulcer. Granted, it was a comfortable life financially, but was it fulfilling?

As Trish, I was young, healthy, and more attractive than I had ever been. Sure, I wasn’t making the money I had as Aiden, but I realized I was content and very happy with the life Trish had. My job was interesting, and the close friendships I shared with Linda, Pam, and Rosa were the best relationships I had ever had in either life. I was closer to them than I had been to anyone in either life. Then there was David…I realized my feelings for him had become deeper than I thought possible. I didn’t know when I had become comfortable with the idea of a relationship with a man, but it felt natural. I had some thinking to do.

I finished my shower, at last feeling. When I was wrapped in a towel, I admitted that I felt cleansed in mind as well as body, shedding the dirtiness of the last few days, something I hadn’t even realized I was feeling. I knew then that I would be able to put this incident behind me.

I put on black ribbed tank top with a built in shelf bra. While it wouldn’t do to go out in, the support was adequate for lounging around the apartment without a conventional bra. I stepped into a distressed denim cutoff miniskirt with a frayed hem. I didn’t put on any panties, and it made me feel absolutely naughty. I felt more comfortable than I ever would have as Aiden, in old jeans and a tee-shirt. I was about to curl up on the couch with a magazine, (Cosmo, no less!) when there was a knock on the door.

Wondering who it could be, I looked through the peephole then let Linda and Pam into the apartment. They were bearing balloons, gourmet brownies from Anna, and get-well cards from the guys at work and themselves. I was extremely grateful. As I was giving them hugs, I began to cry. The girls noticed this and began telling me things would be alright.

Pulling away from them, I told them “I really am okay, now. These are tears of happiness because I’m so glad to have some great friends like you both.” This caused them to begin to tear up as well and another round of heart-felt hugs commenced.

We sat on the sofa eating too many brownies and they caught me up on the gossip and general happenings in the neighborhood. It felt good and natural and, I realized, it was cathartic. Before long the girl’s lunch break was over. With more hugs all around, they took their leave and went back to work.

I decided to take a nap. Curling up under the covers, I drifted off to sleep. Once again, I had that strange dream of the gargoyles.

____

Grimcost and Gorman were jostling for position at the window. This time Grim and Gorm had left their posts on the rear of the building to get a peek.

“Aww, she looks adorable, laying there.” Grimcost said in his gruff, gravelly voice.

“I told you they all look cute when they’re asleep” muttered Gorman.

Grim pushed them aside to get his turn at the window. “She looks like an angel”

Gorm sat next to Grim. “She does look as beautiful as one. But we all know most natural female Angels are blond.”

“Whatever,” interjected Grimcost. “I just hope she stays.”

“You know as well as the rest of us that the ones who learn to enjoy their lives always move on eventually.” replied Gorman. “It depresses El more than he would ever admit.”

“Shut up about that!” growled Grim. “You know it’s the best way for their kind to reconnect with mortals. They wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He launched his heavy stone body off the ledge, followed quickly by the others. They dropped several feet before their wings and magic were able to pull them aloft and allow them to return to their posts.

____

I awoke at four, feeling completely refreshed. I decided since I really didn’t need another shower, I would soak in a nice, hot bubble bath. As the tub filled, I tucked my hair up into a shower cap. The hot water and bubbles felt heavenly. I luxuriated in the tub for a long time. I made up my mind that if I returned to my old life, I would continue to do this. Why shouldn’t guys experience this feeling of relaxation? I shaved my legs and armpits and stepped out of the tub. As I dried off, I marveled at how much softer my already smooth skin got from the bubble bath. To keep it that way, I rubbed my body with moisturizer.

Wrapping the towel around my body, I sat at my vanity. I brushed out my long, dark hair until it shone. I felt very good about myself, and had decided to go all-out tonight. I painted my long fingernails a bright red and painted my toenails to match. Standing in front of my closet, instead of hemming and hawing over the merits of different outfits as I and natural women did, I knew just the dress I needed for the evening. I pulled out a red, stretchy minidress with a hem that would fall to mid-thigh. It had a strapless Bandeau top and would hug my curves to my waist, where it would flair out whenever I moved.

I laid the dress on the bed and proceeded to my dresser. I pulled out a red satin strapless bra, a tiny red stretch satin thong, and my sheerest pair off smoky off-black thigh highs. I took these to the bed as well. I stepped into the panties and slid them up my long legs, adjusting them on my hips. I put on the bra, clasping it at the back. Even after almost a month, I was still amazed at the flexibility of this young, female body. I could bend my arms around my body and reach all the way up my back.

I sat on the bed and pulled the thigh highs up my shapely legs, enjoying the feeling of the tight, silky nylons against my skin. Standing, I pulled the dress over my head, letting in cascade down my body. I had never had the desire to dress in women’s clothing as Aiden, but I admitted to myself that as Trish, I loved the sensuous feeling of the fabrics. It just felt and looked sexy.

Seated again at my vanity, I applied my makeup with the skill I had acquired over the last month. I went for the evening look; going heavier on the eyeliner and mascara. For the eyeshadow I went with three shades of dark, shiny shadow that gave me the sexy, smoky-eyed look I had seen in the Cosmo Magazine. The effect was stunning if I do say so myself. Since my clear skin didn’t really need it, I had once again gone light on the foundation, powder, and blush. For lipstick, I went with a bright red to match my dress and nails. It was bold and accentuated my full lips. I then covered the lipstick with gloss, giving my lips a shiny, wet, and hopefully kissable look. Looking in the mirror, I was very happy with the beautifully made up face staring back at me. I looked great without makeup; with it, though, the picture was complete.

I grabbed a gold chain from my jewelry box, along with a thin gold bracelet and gold drop earrings, and of course my gold watch. To finish it off, I spritzed my neck and cleavage with Ralph Lauren Romance perfume. I put on a pair of red strappy sandals with a slender, four inch heel. I loved the way they accentuated my calves and ankles.

Standing in front of the mirror, I felt and looked like a million bucks. I really did look a lot like Megan Fox about to walk down the red carpet at a Hollywood movie premier. I grabbed my purse and emptied much of the contents into a small red clutch.

Throwing a lightweight black shawl around my bare shoulders to ward off any chill I might feel, I was ready to go and stepped through the door at exactly six o’clock. When the elevator doors opened and I walked into the lobby, I saw David standing by Horace’s small desk. He looked great in his dressy/casual attire of a dark Polo shirt, khakis, and loafers. Compared to him I was overdressed, but no one would care and neither did I. I stepped up to him and gave him a kiss.

“You look absolutely stunning!” David commented after he had picked up his jaw from the floor. “A beautiful girl who can talk cars like a pro and be on time too? I must be in heaven! I wish I was taking you out on the town and making everyone jealous, instead of going back home for lasagna.”

I looked away shyly before gazing into his dark eyes. “You look pretty good yourself.”

Horace and Mr. Logan were both standing by the reception desk, looking me over in a very polite and slightly protective way. They smiled, nodded, and gave me an approving wink which David didn’t see. I smiled back as I blushed slightly. I turned swiftly, deliberately causing my hair and skirt to flair out. I put my arm through David’s and walked out of the lobby with a little more swing of my hips and ass than was completely required. Just before going out the door, I glanced coyly over my shoulder at Horace and Mr. Logan. They laughed and smiled as they were now the ones blushing.

On the sidewalk, David opened the door to his Mercedes parked in the loading zone in front of the building. Before getting into the car, I glanced up at the top of the building at the Gargoyles perched on the ledge and gave them a quick smile and wink. With the sun having gone down behind the buildings, in the shadows I could have sworn I saw them quickly glance at each other before snapping their heads forward into the statues they were supposed to be. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I really didn’t think so. It was all part of the wonderful magic surrounding Deity Arms. ‘How did I ever find it creepy?’ I wondered.

Sitting down in the car seat and swinging my legs in as a lady would, I wickedly allowed the hem of my dress to ride up my thighs a little more than was proper. “You are SO bad!” David said with a smile. I merely smiled back with a look of feigned innocence on my face.

David drove us to a tall condo building a few miles from the Village. As I had when I first saw David and his Mercedes, I began to wonder again how he could afford such a lifestyle. Perhaps he had inherited some money. If he came from a wealthy family, he had never mentioned it to me. ‘Hell,’ I realized as we pulled up under the canopy, ‘the building even had valet parking.’

The parking attendant opened my door for me and helped me out. He was slightly embarrassed when I caught his polite, admiring glances. I simply touched his shoulder and gave him a sweet smile. As David met me at the passenger side and tipped the attendant, I realized I had been winking, smiling, touching, and hugging quite a bit lately. ‘Why not?’ I was happy and doing it just felt…right.

We entered the lobby and nodded to the doorman. Though nowhere near the size of Horace, it was quite apparent that he was also part of Security. The lobby was thoroughly modern, but every bit as expensive and lavish as Deity Arms. In the elevator, David pushed the button for the 49th floor. Though probably not as large as the penthouses on the 50th, I bet the suites on the next few floors from the top were just as luxurious as, and most likely larger, than the ones below.

David led us down the hall and opened the door to a corner suite, holding the door for me. I could smell the Italian herbs from the baking lasagna, making me hungry as I realized I had only had a couple of brownies since our late breakfast. The condo was larger by half than the one I…I, mean Aiden, had purchased, and probably twice as expensive. The living room off the foyer was sunken; two steps down from the entryway.

David took my shawl and hung it on the coatrack. I stepped down into the living room as David popped into the kitchen to check on the entrée and prepare some vegetables. The décor was modern, full of leather, chrome, glass, and brushed concrete. It was tasteful, expensive, and very masculine. The view out of the two plate glass walls that met seamlessly in one corner was expansive and breathtaking.

“Do you like it?” David asked shyly.

“It’s gorgeous!” I exclaimed expansively. “I bet you have the girls eating out of your hand when they see this place!”

“Actually, you’re the first lady I’ve had up here in the two and a half years since I bought this place.” He said, putting his arms around me. “I don’t date all that much and I would have to have very special feelings for a woman before I would bring her here.”

“Do you feel that way about me?” My eyelids fluttered involuntarily as I looked away and quickly looked back at him.

“You know, I’m beginning to think I do.” He said quietly, with a warm smile.

Shyly, hesitantly, I answered, “I’m starting to think the same thing. I was wondering, how can you affor…never mind. It’s personal and none of my business.”

“It’s okay, really.” He assured me, one hand around my waist and the other gripping my shoulder softly. “It’s time I told you everything and I can only hope you won’t be angry with me.” I nodded and he continued. “Let’s continue this conversation over some dinner and wine. I hope you like it.”

We walked up to the dining area near a gourmet kitchen. The entire floor plan was open with the exception of the two bedrooms and baths. It gave the impression of being even larger than it was and maximized the terrific views. I poured the rather expensive red wine while David brought in the lasagna, asparagus in a cream sauce, and small Caesars salads. He must have spent most of this afternoon preparing the food. He appeared to be an excellent cook and I felt a little guilty for napping the day away.

As if reading my mind, David said with a shy smile “I love cooking. Not to brag, but I think I’m getting pretty good at it.”

“It smells delicious” I said, as we began to eat. The food tasted even better than it smelled. I told David this and he blushed. We ate most of the meal in a comfortable silence that can only be shared by people who were becoming close.

After dinner and on our third glasses of wine, David again picked up the thread of our earlier conversation. “I really do work as a CPA, but that isn’t all I do. It’s actually my father’s firm. He is President and managing partner, though he is planning on retiring in the future and I am expected to take over day to day operations. You see, I’m also a Partner and the Senior Vice President. I really hope you aren’t angry with me for withholding information. I never tell any of my dates about it. I want anyone I meet to get to know and like me for who I am and not my money and lifestyle.” He looked a little uneasy. “I hope you aren’t mad at me.”

I let him off the hook quickly. “I’m not angry in the least; I understand your reasoning completely. Fortunately, I’m only interested in you for your charm, good looks, and your body…and of course, your car. You know I have a thing for nice cars.”

“Now you’re teasing me.” He interjected. “I have to admit I’m relieved that you are being so understanding.”

“I know you weren’t deliberately misleading me. Why, just a month ago I had the same prob…” I stopped abruptly. I suddenly realized what I had let slip. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice. No such luck. David was too attentive and too good a listener to miss anything. I was frantically trying to come up with some sort of explanation when David began to speak.

“I think it’s time for both of us to become completely honest and open with each other. It’s the only way we can continue, and I really want us to continue. You were about to say ‘just a month ago I had the same problem.’

“You know I was…I used to be…”

“A guy? I wasn’t sure, but I had suspicions. Val and I have been friends for a couple of months now; he isn’t infallible and let a few things slip. I came right out and asked about him and he admitted the truth. It hasn’t really changed our friendship. It may not seem like it to you after what happened, but he really is a nice guy.”

“You know about them too?” My mouth was agape.

“I know about Val. I have suspicions about others. Mr. Logan, very likely. Trick, probably. Anna, maybe. You make me believe those suspicions are correct.”

“Does any of this bother you? Doesn’t it feel…?” I let the question hang.

“Gay?” He again finished my sentence as if reading my mind. “Come here a moment. He took me by the hand and led me to the mirror. “What do you see? I see an incredibly beautiful young lady, the way you look, the way you move, the way you talk, maybe by now even the way you think. Everything about you is a beautiful woman. And I think I’m falling for that woman.”

David held me in his arms. I relaxed into the hug until he was practically supporting me. As close as I was to Linda and the girls, it didn’t compare to the intimacy I felt for this man. Now that he knew my secret, I felt even closer to him than ever. I would be able to talk to him about anything and everything. A sudden thought filled my mind. Tomorrow I would return to being Aiden and lose all this forever. Is that what I wanted? Did I even have a choice? Would Val and Logan allow me to stay as Trish?

There was one thing I was sure I wanted before tomorrow and I wanted it now. All of the feelings and friendship were beginning to pour out of me and become passion. I reached my hand up David’s back until one arm was around his neck. I placed the other hand on the back of his head and pulled his face to mine. I began to give him the most passionate kiss I had ever given in my life, either life. As our tongues explored each other’s mouths, I could feel my nipples harden inside my tight dress and a warmth spread from between my legs and throughout my whole body. With no doubts remaining in my mind, I knew I wanted David. Now.

I broke off the kiss reluctantly, and breathed huskily “Come on.” I grabbed him by the hand and began to lead him to what I assumed was the bedroom.

Always a gentleman, he stopped me with a light touch on my arm. “Are you sure?”

“I have never been so sure of anything in my life.” I whispered with passion and confidence that belied the fluttering in my heart.

That was all the encouragement David needed. As I reached down and unbuckled the straps of my stiletto sandals, leaving them right there in the living room, I noticed the front of his khakis had a very distinct bulge. As I stood and raised my arm to his waist, I let my nails gently drag across the tent in his pants, causing him to gasp. David gently grasped my hand and led me into the large bedroom.

The bed was dark mahogany, king size, on a high pedestal. I didn’t even notice the rest of the room. We stopped near the three small steps at the foot of the bed, sharing another passionate kiss. David considerately let me set the pace. I had always thought men wanted sex more than women and the women usually went along with it more because they loved the man and wanted to please him. From Trish’s conversations with the girls, I realized that wasn’t the case. I wanted him now and wasn’t going to wait for him to take control.

I broke the kiss and reached down and unbuckled David’s belt. Next I dragged his shirt over his head, immediately dropping it to the floor. I knelt in front of him and unbuttoned his pants and pulled his zipper down. As I yanked his pants off his hips, I followed them down, allowing my hot breath to caress the growing bulge in the front of his boxers. That was all I did, I wasn’t ready to do more with my mouth.

At this point David knew I needed help. David guided me to my feet and kissed me passionately while he kicked off his shoes and pants. He left them behind him on the floor as he broke the kiss. The kiss had stoked my fire to the next level. He paused as he reached down and pulled off his socks, tossing them over his shoulder. Barely breaking stride, he slowly lifted the hem of my dress, lightly dragging his fingertips along the tips of my thighs, then my hips, to my flat belly, and finally across my breasts and the tips of my nipples. By the time my dress and bra joined David’s khakis on the floor, I was absolutely on fire with desire.

Now it was David’s turn to kneel, sliding my thong off my hips and following them down. If I was on fire from David undressing me, his breath and kiss on my female sex fanned the flames into a wildfire. I turned and climbed up the steps and lay down on the bed, rolling over onto my back to face David as he came up. As I hoped, he had removed his boxers as he arose.

I got my first good look at his penis. It was rock hard and almost eight inches long. The girth was such that I knew that when I grasped it, I wouldn’t be able to put my hand all the way around it. As I did just that and found I was right, I gave the shaft and head a squeeze. I ran my hand up and down its length, knowing from experience exactly how to make him feel good.

I began to use his member to pull him between my legs, but David resisted, instead kneeling between them. He gently caressed my vulva and the lips of my vagina, taking extra care when he touched my sensitive, swollen clitoris. The cool air and his touch made me realize how wet I had become. As much as I had enjoyed my previous explorations of my body and masturbating myself to climax, the feelings I was experiencing now were multiplied ten-fold. David moved down so his face was between my legs, both index fingers just inside me, gently spreading my lips as he lowered his tongue.

My body reached new heights of yearning and desire. After a few moments I knew I was going to come if he didn’t stop, and I had the desperate need to be filled. I gently pulled his face away and guided his lips to mine. I could smell and taste myself on his lips and like a few girls I had known, it didn’t repulse me.

I released him and he got into position between my legs. I helped him guide himself to my entrance and then we both let our hands drop. As he slowly leaned forward, I could feel him entering me. I was so wet and horny it was not difficult. As he went further in, I felt no pain, only a mild discomfort as part of my mind realized that my hymen had broken. I didn’t care; I had one thing on my mind and it was happening.

I reached up and grabbed David’s buttocks in each hand and gently pulled him to me. Soon he was all the way inside me and I felt completely filled. After a few moments like that, I let David set the rhythm and it soon picked up speed. The feeling was unbelievable, better than anything I had felt as a man or a woman. I could feel my passion and orgasm building equally along with the tempo of our lovemaking. I could tell David was getting close as well from his increasingly ragged breathing. Logan had told me I couldn’t get pregnant and this would be my only opportunity to experience everything sex means to a woman.

In a husky voice full of passion, I yelled out to David “Oh my God! I’m coming! Please come up inside me, David!”

That was all it took for David and myself. After a few more strokes, our bodies shuddered and our backs arched. David was buried in me to the hilt and I could feel the hot throbbing as he shot pulse after pulse into my eagerly waiting vagina. On our first attempt, we had achieved that most elusive of pleasures, the simultaneous orgasm.

David lay gently on top of me, his heart rate and breathing slowly returning to normal as I felt him growing soft inside me. We didn’t speak, there was no need. As our perspiration dried, we dozed.

I said ‘the first time’ we had achieved simultaneous orgasms, I meant the first time we made love to each other. The second time followed about a half hour later, and we both lasted quite a bit longer. While not simultaneous, we both reached our respective peaks. That time I discovered another joy of being a woman, multiple orgasms. I had three, two back to back. There simply wasn’t a requirement to take time to recover. The orgasms simply came. (Pun intended). I also discovered ‘aftershocks. Lying in David’s arms, my body would shiver with several mini-orgasms. David found this endearing.

The third time was slow and languorous. We took our time. After my last orgasm, David didn’t seem to be able to follow. Wanting to please him, I got over my fear and took him into my mouth and helped him to finish. I shouldn’t have feared it.

I realized David was a better lover than I had ever been. His touch was gentler, and he took the time to make sure I was ready. I had learned now the absolute way how to make a woman feel great. Now I had to decide if I wanted the opportunity to do it.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms rather late. I guess I should say early in the morning. We were both totally spent. The last thing I heard before we nodded off was David whisper the words “I love you” very softly. I hugged him as I nodded off. I woke up after a doze, enjoying the feeling of David’s strong arms around me, listening to his deep, regular breathing. My body felt satisfied and content. My mind was anything but. I kept going over the pros and cons of Trish and Aiden. The scales tipped one way and then back the other. I knew where my heart was, but not my head. At last I drifted off to a deep and peaceful sleep without coming to a decision.

____

I awoke to the heavenly aroma of fresh coffee and frying bacon. I got out of bed, and realizing I was naked, went to David’s dresser and found an old, extra-large t-shirt and threw it over my head. It fell to mid-thigh, just as many of my dresses and skirts did, so I figured it met the needs of modesty.

I entered David’s huge Master Bath, with a shower and a tub, each more than roomy enough for two. The shower had a nozzle on both sides, and the tub doubled as a Jacuzzi. I used the toilet, and then washed off what little makeup I had left. I borrowed David’s brush and made my hair presentable, as my purse was somewhere in the living room. I found a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and so was able to brush my teeth.

David was deep in concentration over making breakfast as I entered the spacious kitchen, so he didn’t hear me as I crept up behind him and threw my arms around his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to kiss his neck. Before my transformation, we would have been the same height. To his credit, he didn’t jump.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” He greeted me with a smile. “You look even more beautiful in the morning.”

I had grabbed a scrunchie from my purse on the way through the living room and put my hair in a ponytail. I guess that, with my fresh-scrubbed look made me look like the all-American girl next door. It seemed to be a look that David liked almost as much as my getting all dolled up for him last night.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I asked. “I could have helped with breakfast.”

“I told you I loved cooking. Besides, you looked so peaceful and beautiful sleeping, I couldn’t bear to wake you up. I was just about to come get you. Breakfast is served.

He put out biscuits, croissants, butter, and jam. He also had a large plate of bacon and sausage. The thing that surprised me was the Juevos Rancheros, a fried tortilla topped with fried eggs, cheese, salsa, and sour cream. I had been eating it for years but it was just starting to become popular in some restaurants.

“My favorite!” I exclaimed, making him smile.

“It’s one of the things I’ve always liked.” He replied.

Since we were stuffing our faces with the delicious food, we fell into silence.

“I wish I could take the rest of the week off to spend with you.” David said as we were finishing the dishes. “I know Val gave you off until Monday, but after missing yesterday I have some catching up to do. Maybe I can take Friday off and we can spend a long weekend together. Have you ever been down to the Poconos?” He asked, referring to the resort mountain area about two hours away in northeastern Pennsylvania.

“I went skiing there a few times while I was at U Penn.” I answered. “I hear it’s nice in the summer too. I have things to do today, too. Let’s set it up tentatively and see what happens.”

David looked slightly disappointed but hopeful. He gave me a kiss on the forehead and went in to take a shower. I followed him to the bedroom. While he showered, I gathered up my clothes that were strewn about the room. I pulled on my thong and bra, followed by the red dress. It was a little wrinkled from being on the floor, but would do for the short trip home. I located my stockings under the edge of the bed, surprised to see there were no runs on them from David pulling them off my legs after our first round of lovemaking. I decided to go without them and stuffed them into my purse. I was putting on my heels when David exited the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. I leered at him, looking him up and down like he was a piece of meat.

David laughed. “If you wait til I get dressed, I can give you a ride home on my way to the office.”

“Thanks anyway,” I said. “If I stay here you may never get to work. I’ll just catch a cab and leave you to get ready.”

I crossed the room without a word and gave him a kiss. Before he could stop me I left the room, grabbed my purse from the coffee table and let myself out of the condo, grabbing my shawl from the stand by the door. I didn’t want him to see the tears in my eyes as I wondered if I would ever see him again.

By the time I reached the lobby I had regained my composure. I was about to have the doorman hail me a cab when I saw Kemal wave at me from under the awning where he was standing next to his immaculate yellow taxi. Leaving the building, Kemal had the rear door open.

“I thought you would need a ride home, Miss Brooks.” Kemal said as he helped me into the back of the cab. He walked around to the driver’s door and got in, pulling into traffic. I noticed he neglected to turn on the meter.

“You forgot the meter, Kemal.” I reminded him.

“It has been taken care of.” Kemal replied ambiguously.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” I asked accusingly, but with a smile on my face and affection in my voice.

“I am sure I do not know what you are referring to, Miss Brooks.” Kemal replied with a grin.

‘He’s probably the Turkish god of public transportation or something’ I thought with a grin. I knew I would get no more out of him, so I let the matter drop.

The ride was short and uneventful. Kemal opened the door for me in front of Deity Arms. After I got out, I impulsively hugged him and gave him a kiss. “Thank you for the ride. And thank you for helping me the other day.”

“Make no more mention of it, Miss Brooks. The pleasure was all mine, I assure you. Remember, whenever you need a ride, call me and I will be there. Or do not call. I will still be there.” He was smiling. “By the way, whatever you decide today, it has been a pleasure to have met you.” With that he jumped in the cab and drove away.

‘I have made so many friends here’ I thought as I went into the building. Horace was back at his usual spot, and I gave him a hug as I passed him. I went up to my room. I threw myself on the bed and cried til I fell asleep.

____

When I awoke from my nap it was almost noon. I felt better for having cried, but I was no closer to a decision. I got in the shower, taking my time washing both my hair and my body, then simply standing and relaxing in the warm spray.

As Aiden, I had been addicted to the money and material things it bought. I attended functions at the country club and had the respect of many acquaintances, but I had no one I could call a true friend. I had enjoyed my work, but my marriage was a failure. I was middle aged but certainly not old.

As Trish, I had a young, healthy, beautiful body. I had several close friends. I also had a job I liked, but it didn’t offer me much of a future or very many things beyond the necessities. I also didn’t have much in the way of future prospects, since I no longer had a college degree. Sure, I could go back to school, but how would I pay for it? I also had a man who loved me, but my male mind and female body and hormones were at war. If all things were equal, I think I might have chosen Trish…but things were not equal.

The water had cooled without my coming to a decision, and I was almost out of time. I turned off the spray and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my hair and another around my body. I sat at the vanity and applied my makeup, and then dried my hair. I padded over to the closet to select something to wear. I decided that if this was to be my last day as a woman, I would pick something ultra-feminine. I found a white sundress with wide shoulder straps and large pink polka dots. It was one of my more conservative dresses; when I put it on the hem came to just above the knees and flared out from the bodice down.

Wearing it felt good. Seeing myself in the mirror, I realized that the dress looked a little like the one worn by the girl in the older T-Mobile cell phone commercials, with opposite colors. With our dark hair, I even looked like her. I decided to complete the comparison and grabbed a pair of pink patent leather pumps with a four inch heel. They were identical to the shoes she wore.

I grabbed my white clutch and transferred the contents from the red one into it. In the hall, I grabbed the keys from table and put them in the clutch. I looked at my face in the hall mirror. Would this be the same face staring back at me when I left Mr. Logan’s office?

I turned and left the apartment. The wait for the elevator and the ride down to the lobby seemed interminable. I had no idea what I was going to do and time was up. I walked into the lobby and up to the desk. Lucky was standing beside it. I gave the little man a hug and he looked back at me with embarrassment. “Can you tell Mr. Logan I’m here?” I asked. “He’s expecting me.”

Lucky went into the office and returned a short time later. “Mr. Logan will see you now.”

As I walked past him I gave him I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. If I thought he had been embarrassed before, now he turned beet red. I heard Horace chuckle. With dread, I walked across and opened the door.

Logan was seated at his desk. For the first time since I met him the desk was clear. Mr. Logan’s hands were steepled in front of him. He looked up at me and smiled. “Well, Miss Brooks. It seems that you have been with us for a month as of today. Have you met the requirements of, shall we call it your probation? We shall see.” On the wall beside us, images of my life as Trish passed rapidly by as if we were watching a replay in fast-forward. Even having lived through it, the visions were so fast that the majority of them were incomprehensible.

Mr. Logan seemed to have no such difficulty. When the images had finished, he said “It seems you have. Have you come to a decision about what you want to do?”

“No, Mr. Logan, I haven’t. Could I possibly have til the end of the weekend to think about it and make up my mind?”

“I am sorry, Miss Brooks. The life of Aiden Brookstone III has been in stasis for a month now. No one is aware he has ever existed. Even with my powers I cannot keep that life viable indefinitely. I will need your decision now.”

“But I don’t know what to do!” I wailed, the tears returning to my eyes.

“Allow me to help make the decision easier for you.” Logan said calmly. “Do you love David?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“I think you do.” Images of my time spent with David flashed up on the wall. They moved slower this time. Our conversation in the Southwestern Grill, our first date, the first kiss, David holding me, the passionate kisses of last night, David and I going to the bedroom, and finally the image of us in each other’s arms this morning. It had showed all the connections we had made, the deep conversations, and all the laughter we had shared.

I could no longer deny the truth to Mr. Logan that I had been denying to myself. “Yes. Yes I do love him.”

“Then your decision has already been made.”

I suddenly realized it was. I loved David. Trish loved David. I wanted to remain as Trish and have that love. The tears were returning, tears of happiness and relief. I ran to Mr. Logan and hugged him tight, crying softly on his shoulder. I knew the decision was the right one. I finally stopped crying and lifted my head. Mr. Logan handed me a very expensive silk handkerchief. I dabbed my eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Logan. Thank you for everything.”

“I did nothing, dear one. You did it all yourself. I simply enabled you to see it from an outside perspective.”

“But didn’t you use your…magic to make me fall in love with him…make him love me?”

“The magic was all inside you. It is a completely natural magic that most humans possess. You have an abundance of it. The only thing I have used my power for in the month since your transformation was to enable your instincts to come to the fore, helping with simple things like applying makeup and picking out clothes. Everything else was completely you.”

I was astounded. I thought Logan and Val had been controlling my emotions and influencing my thoughts the whole time. “So you would have changed me back if I had wanted to?”

“Of course, my dear. I would not keep you against your will.”

“But what about…”

Mr. Logan stopped me in mid-sentence. “Our Cubans friends are not worthy of my consideration. You have shown your potential as Trish. They have failed. Perhaps they will show potential in the new roles I have selected for them. If you return here at six, you can witness their…sentencing. Bring David if you would like.”

I shivered at this pronouncement. It made me realize that my decision not to anger Mr. Logan was the wisest one I had ever made. “Thank you again, Mr. Logan.” I said as I turned to the door. I stopped as Mr. Logan called to me.

“Trish, if you ever wonder if you made the correct choice, know this. Had you returned to the life and body of Aiden Brookstone III, you would have died of a heart attack, probably within a month. The stress of his job and his life had damaged his already weak heart.”

“You would have let me go back, knowing that?”

“I would have, Miss Brooks. The decision had to be yours alone. I could not influence you in any way.”

As I turned and went through the door, I heard Mr. Logan say “I am glad you are still with us, Miss Brooks. We all are.”

____

I called David and asked him to pick me up at six if he was still able get away for a long weekend. He was delighted. He said he was going to call a mountain resort that he knew of and reserve a private cabin on the lake for us on a lake. It sounded wonderful and I told him so. I was going to pack a bag and meet him in the lobby at six. Just before he hung up, I stopped him. “I love you, David.”

“I love you, too.”

At six PM I was standing in the lobby next to Lucky, waiting for David to arrive. Horace was nowhere to be seen. When David came in, I explained the situation to him and asked if we could wait a half hour or so to leave. “I wouldn’t miss it.” He replied. “Knowing these…people as we do, the punishment will be more appropriate than anything the criminal justice system could dish out.”

Lucky led us to Mr. Logan’s office and saw us to our seats. Mr. Logan said “Mr. Luk, bring them in.”

I was about to question the advisability of sending ‘Mr. Luk’ as Logan referred to him to retrieve three thugs alone, when Val came in, pulling Luis by his wrists, followed by Horace holding Pablo and Carlos by their necks. Luis immediately began threatening Mr. Logan with his connections and what revenge his money could buy. Mr. Logan waved his hand and Luis fell silent. He didn’t stop ranting; he simple was no longer able to speak. Luis stopped his histrionics and his eyes grew large. I’m sure he was wondering how someone was able to do what had been done to him. The goons simple stared in fear.

“Carlos and Pablo, you have both wasted your lives working for Mr. Rodriguez. You have used intimidation and brutality to force obedience and assert your will. From this day forward you will see what it is like from the other side.” With that, Logan, or El stood and began to chant in what sounded to me like Arabic. Being a god of ancient Egypt, he must have been speaking the language of the Nile region from 5,000 years ago.

When El finished, the two Cubans began to change. They grew shorter and their bone structure became finer. The skin on one was becoming lighter while the others grew darker. Both of them had hair that grew longer as we watched, one turning blond and the other a dark brown. They had become female, one black, and one white. Even their clothes had changed. Their pants had shrunk and the legs had fused together, becoming tight spandex minidresses that made mine look conservative and demur. They could have been attractive but looked like they had been ridden hard and put away wet, as the saying goes. Their makeup was overdone and garish, probably trying to cover the fact that they were old enough to be nearing the end of their usefulness as the prostitutes they clearly were.

“Since you have used force and intimidation to your advantage,” El continued, “You are now in the employ of a man who uses both…and enjoys it. Your pimp, Marbles, is probably somewhere in the neighborhood and is wondering where his money is. Enjoy your life, perhaps you can make something of it. Horace, remove these two.”

‘Carlos’ and ‘Pablo’ were too much in shock to voice any protests. I could see the fear in their eyes. Remembering the fear that had lately been in mine, I felt no remorse. Justice was definitely served far better than any prison would. Horace dragged them out the door.

“Luis Ernesto Rodriguez” El said as he turned to the other man, “You have used your power and influence to intimidate and hurt others. You have enriched yourself beyond greed by trafficking in narcotics and in so doing ruined countless lives. I have a…associate in Oklahoma that would turn you into a tree, fully aware of yourself and your surroundings. I have a different fate in store for you.”

After witnessing what had happened to Pablo and Carlos, Luis was well aware of what was about to happen to him. He knew that the people in front of him were well beyond the reach of mere threats and intimidation. Suddenly regaining the ability to speak, Luis began to attempt bribes of money, power and influence, mentioning his connections to all sorts of people and politicians in South Florida.

El cut him off abruptly. “My associates and I have more money and influence, not to mention Power, than you can possible fathom. We have spent more years than you can count amassing our investments and real estate holdings. We have even recently expanded into publishing. I play golf with the mayor and dine with the Governor. You have nothing to offer me.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” Luis managed to stutter.

In a stern voice El answered. “You have squandered your strengths and the life you could have lived. You have ruined countless lives. In short, you have become vermin in regards to humanity. I am ensuring that you stay that way. As for why, it is because I should and I can. And it is fun.”

With that, El again began chanting in Arabic or whatever ancient language he had been using. When he had finished, Luis began to blur, shrinking and elongating in size. His face became elongated; whiskers’ sprouting from what was rapidly becoming a snout. His face and body were being covered by dark fur. A tail emerged from his rear, long, thin and scaly. As he further reduced in size, Val released him from the grip of one hand and grasped him by the tail with the other.

When the changes were complete, a large brown rat hung from Val’s hand. From the bulging animal eyes we could tell that ‘Luis’ was fully aware of who he had been and what he was now. A look of animal terror remained on his rat face. El addressed him for a final time, “Now you will remain the vermin you have been for as long as you can remain alive. With animal cunning, you might remain alive for five to seven years. With your human intelligence, perhaps as many as ten. However, I have granted you the same life span as you would have had as a human. If you can avoid predators, you may remain alive for thirty or forty years, plenty of time to raise many little rat families…as their mother, of course. Remove this vermin.” With that, Val left the room, carrying the squealing, struggling rat with him.

After Val left the room, El turned to me. “What do you think of their punishment?”

I thought for a moment. “It was…appropriate. If our justice system could administer such punishments there would be much less crime.”

“We do our part. We like to keep our neighborhood safe. Given the circumstances, I thought you deserved to witness their punishment in person. Enjoy your weekend.” He escorted us to the lobby. When I turned to thank him, he was gone.

Val was coming in the front door as we crossed the lobby to it. I gave him a heartfelt hug. “Thank you for rescuing me and for everything you have done. I’m happier than I have ever been.”

“You are welcome.” Val replied. “It was my pleasure. Have fun this weekend. I’ll see you Monday. He shook hands with David as we went out of the building.

David held open the door to his Mercedes and I climbed in. He tossed my bag in the trunk with his and got into the driver’s seat. Silently, we headed off to our retreat and the beginning of the rest of my life.

Epilogue

Three months later.

I stood in the plush lobby of the Deity Arms, my home of the last four months. It seemed much longer than that. I had already had a tearful farewell to Luk and Horace. The movers were bringing down the last load of my clothes and personal belongings to take to David’s condo. The furniture would stay, maybe to be used by the next ‘girl’. I had no use for it and I wasn’t mine anyway. Technically, the clothes weren’t really mine, but might not fit the next occupant of the apartment anyway. Besides, I was sure that Mr. Logan could create more.

Speaking of Mr. Logan, when I turned around he was standing beside me. I spoke to him. ”You’ll be at the church at nine on Saturday?” David and I were to be married this weekend.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Mr. Logan replied. “Thank you for asking me to give you away. It is an honor. Here, I have some wedding presents for you.”

Val had already given me a wedding present. He had provided our honeymoon. It seemed he owned a lavish villa in the Greek islands which we would be using for the next two weeks. He had also provided two first class tickets to get there.

The first item Mr. Logan handed me was a rolled parchment. Unrolling it, I saw it was a diploma for a Bachelor’s Degree in Business from the University of Pennsylvania. It was in the name of Patricia Ann Brooks.

The second item was a bankbook. The balance was $1.7 million dollars. “It is the balance of Aiden’s account along with the proceeds from the sale of your condo. While we could create or destroy money, it tends to cause ripple effects in the financial markets that are best avoided. Though I am sure David would help you, you now have the means to attend graduate school again if you so desire.”

“I think the Bachelor’s degree will suffice this time.” I replied. “David and I have been thinking about starting a family in the future. But a girl should always have her own money. In the meantime, I’ll be staying at the Autohaus part-time; at least until you all find a ‘replacement’ for me.” I gave Mr. Logan a warm hug.

“One more thing,” Mr. Logan stopped me, handing me a small item. It was the key to my BMW. I had my baby back again. “A girl also needs her own transportation. It is parked right out front. Be well, Trish.”

With that, Mr. Logan turned and went into his office with a smile on his face.

I also was wearing a smile as I turned and left the building. On the sidewalk, I turned for one last look at Deity Arms where my life had begun again. Looking up, I waved at the statues of the gargoyles perched on the ledge. Surprisingly, one looked back, waving a heavy paw before snapping back to attention, once again the stone guardian of the building. This time I was sure I hadn’t imagined it.

With another smile, I climbed in my Beemer and the V12 purred with a throaty growl. I pulled out into the street and headed off into my promising future.

The End